Photographs and Memories

Petunia sat back against the wall of her closet. Vernon had his own closet; he would have no reason to go into hers. Cautiously, she slid a hatbox out of the large stack. When Petunia was seventeen, she and her sister had watched her mother trying on hats for a party, trying to find one in the vast collection that would match her suit. Lily had rapturously asked if she could have the hats one day. Catherine Evans had told her that it was Petunia's prerogative as the oldest; Petunia had explained that she had never liked her mother's hats, and that all she wanted were the hatboxes. She used them to store things in.

Vernon had never gone through the hatboxes; he probably assumed they were hats, yet he had never questioned why Petunia rarely wore a hat, and why the hat, when she did, was the same one--a large straw hat with a wide brim and a band that slipped on and off easily, the only one of her mother's hats that Petunia had liked. The top six boxes, however, contained her wide assortment of scarves; most of the remaining ones contained jewellery. There was one hatbox, however, that was different than the rest.

Photographs and memories

Christmas cards you sent to me

All that I have are these

To remember you

While most of the hatboxes were floral prints, paisleys, plaids, or calicos, this one was a solid print. It was a dusky rose in colour, trimmed with seed pearls, made of plush velvet. Carefully, Petunia slid it out of the stack and stared at it. She could clearly remember the hat it had once contained--a pillbox hat of a slightly lighter colour than the box itself, with a pale pink mesh veil and a small sprig of artificial pink foxgloves stuck over the left ear. When Catherine had allowed her daughters to play dress-up in her clothing, Lily invariably chose that hat to play with. Petunia had many memories of adjusting the pillbox hat on her little sister's head. Never once had she told Lily to forget about the stupid hat, that redheads didn't wear pink--often she thought that if any redhead could pull off pink, it would be Lily Anne Mary Evans.

Now, of course, the box no longer contained the pillbox hat. Petunia carefully lifted the lid and looked at the contents. There was a small jewelled box that looked like a pillbox or a jewellery box unless one knew that it was a music box, lying next to the key. There was a small china figurine of a cat and kitten curled up together--the cat was golden, the kitten red. There were two braided lengths of hair right next to each other, of similar lengths and thickness, but one was pale gold and the other dark red. Nestled between the two braids was a small crystal that glowed slightly. There were six gold medals on lengths of ribbon, Underneath all of these things were two photographs.

Memories that come at night

Take me to another time

Back to a happier day

When I called you mine

Petunia lifted the items out one by one. The music box was an Evans family tradition, passed down to each child upon his or her sixteenth birthday. Petunia had given it to Lily, who had sent it to her for safekeeping, through a proxy, when she went into hiding. If she wound it, Petunia knew it would play Butterfly Kisses, which had replaced the waltz the box originally came with--Mark Evans had replaced the tune when the mechanism wore out. Lily, of course, had loved it when Petunia had passed it on to her.

Petunia remembered the day the cat and kitten had been done. It had been someone's birthday party--Petunia couldn't even remember whose anymore--but it had been at a paint-your-own-pottery store. Petunia had carefully painted a small ceramic box to keep her "special" earrings in. Lily had selected the cat-kitten statuette, then gone to get her paints. Petunia, who was trying to find the right shade of blue--her favourite colour at the time--had noticed Lily holding the end of her pigtail up to the various sample tiles before selecting a particular paint. Lily had painted carefully and diligently, refusing to show her sister what she was doing, then handed it over to be fired. When the boxes had arrived with the girls' artwork in them, Lily had eagerly unpacked the statuette and held it out to her sister, saying excitedly, "Look, Penny, it's you and me!" She was right--the colours she had selected had matched the girls' hair colours almost exactly.

The hair was still soft and silky under Petunia's fingers as she lifted the heavy braids. Petunia had been having headaches at school; her mother had had her eyes checked, but they were fine. The paediatrician had suggested that perhaps her long, thick hair was too heavy and giving her headaches, so Catherine had dragged Petunia to a hair stylist to have her hair cut short. Lily had tagged along, as she often did. Petunia begged with the stylist to "save the length" for her, so she had taken a large fistful of Petunia's hair at the nape of the neck and sheared it all off at once, then handed her a long shank of hair. While the stylist fixed Petunia's hair into a nice, even pixie cut, Petunia had fished a rubber band out of her pocket and quietly braided her hair. That night, however, she had sobbed herself to sleep; her hair had been her pride and joy. The next morning, Lily had counted up the money she had been saving up to buy herself a new doll. Satisfied that she had enough, she had walked down to the salon and made the same request of the hair stylist. Catherine had assumed that Lily was over playing with her best friend, but she had nearly had a heart attack when the small girl had walked into the kitchen and asked Petunia to help her braid the length of hair she had saved. The memory still brought tears to Petunia's eyes; her sister had been willing to sacrifice her own pride and joy to make her feel better.

But we sure had a good time

When we started way back when

Morning walks and bedroom talks

Oh how I loved you then

Petunia was hesitant to touch the crystal. Her best friend Shannon--a witch like Lily--had made it for her; she had called it a Memorex, after a popular brand of recording tapes at the time. It was similar to a video recording, only more...real, more like she was actually there, and it didn't require a player. Still...she touched it lightly. Fortunately Vernon wasn't in the room; it was a collection of times that Shannon and Petunia and Lily and Shannon's sister Morrie had got together and done songs. There was a recording of Petunia and Shannon singing On Eagle's Wings in church one Sunday...another memory of Petunia herself singing a song called Ten Thousand Angels Cried...one of Petunia and Lily singing Put a Little Love in Your Heart. There was Morrie with her violin, Shannon with the viola, Petunia with the banjo, and Lily with the dulcimer playing a medley of Red River Valley, Redwing, and Turkey in the Straw...Petunia and Shannon at a church talent show singing Matchmaker, Matchmaker from Fiddler on the Roof...and even one of Shannon, Petunia, and Lily singing Go Rest High on That Mountain. A smile tugged at Petunia's lips. Lily had loved to sing.

She lifted out the medals one by one. All of them were joint medals but one. Blinking back a couple of tears, she read the inscriptions to herself. Junior Swing Champions 1973...First Place, Partner Skating Competition, 1971...First Place, Three-Legged Race, 1967...Doubles Champions, 1970...Junior Swing Champions, 1971...Figure Skating Champion, 1968. Petunia had kept all the joint medals because she was older and had a trophy rack, but Lily had given her the medal for figure skating. Lily had earned it all by herself, of course, but she had insisted she wanted Petunia to have it, saying that Petunia had been the only person who had supported her all the way through. Petunia closed her eyes, hearing the strains of Music Box Dancer, watching her sister leap and spin across the floor of the skating rink, excitedly telling the person next to her, "That's my sister!" She had never felt so proud in her whole life.

The first of the photographs was of a large group standing on a stage in costume, obviously in full song, all waving furiously. Petunia smiled at the memory. Shannon had received a script for a musical called Into the Woods from one of her teachers and had got it into her head that they should put it on. A lot of people from their school had come to be in the musical that summer. The story was the meshing of about six different fairy tales, and the second act was what happened after the happily-ever-after. Petunia had been cast as the witch as a bit of a joke--she was the only Muggle in the play! Shannon had played the baker's wife; her boyfriend had played the baker. Lily had been Cinderella, Morrie had been Little Red Riding Hood. Shannon had even managed to convince two of her teachers to come take part in the play--their headmaster had been the narrator and the Mysterious Man, the deputy headmistress had been Jack's mother and the ghost of Cinderella's mother. Petunia flipped the picture over and smiled as she read the caption on the back--Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor! Here's to getting out of the woods and happy ever afters! XXXOOO, Shannie, Morrie, Lily, and the Marauders.

Summer skies and lullabies

Nights we couldn't say good-bye

And of all of the things that we knew

Not a dream survived

The other photograph was even older and perfectly still. A sob rose in Petunia's throat as she looked at the photograph. A very small girl with two dark red pigtails hanging over her shoulders, wearing a pale blue sweater and a kind of pale plaid skirt, shrieked with laughter. A slightly taller girl with a single thick blonde braid, wearing a red-and-white long-sleeved, short-skirted dress, stood behind her, arms clamped firmly around the smaller girl's torso, laughing as well. The redhead clutched the blonde's arms. Both girls were on roller skates. Petunia remembered that day so well--Lily had been probably about four, Petunia six. Petunia had been taking skating lessons for a few weeks, but Lily had never been skating in her life, so Petunia had been helping her around the rink. Probably Catherine had snapped the picture; Mark liked to skate and she didn't.

A single tear trickled down her cheek. Never had she missed her sister so much.

Photographs and memories

All the love you gave to me

Somehow it just can't be true

That's all I've left of you

Oh, Lily, Lily, she thought agonisingly, staring at the picture. I wish you were here. I wish we could go skating together...I wish we could sing or dance or something...I wish you could see your son. He's growing into such a young man...he looks just like his father...but his eyes are yours. His eyes will forever be yours. I don't want to lose him, Lily, but he's going away. I'm going to miss him so much...

"Muuuuuuuuum!"

Shattered out of her reminiscing, Petunia wiped her eyes and hastily repacked the hatbox, then stuffed it back into the closet and hurried out of the room, calling, "I'm coming, dear!"

Before she left the doorway, however, she paused and glanced back into the room, blew a single kiss in the direction of her closet, and touched her heart in a gesture of remembrance. Sniffing slightly, she turned and walked out the door, shutting the door behind her.

But we sure had a good time

When we started way back when

Morning walks and bedroom talks

Oh how I loved you then...