A/N: Eh…I went and wrote this after my dad kicked me off the computer. I was pissy, so it's sad.

Warnings: It's sad. And mean, too.

Disclaimer: God I'm glad I don't own Petunia.

Summary: hp100 challenge. An old quill brings forth ancient memories.

The false quill had been stored away in the attic, hidden from prying eyes inside a long forgotten box. The feather had turned slightly yellow from age, the tip bent from being stuck under piles of paper. The ink, once a liquid blue, had long since dried out. It was a memory of happier times, when two young girls had promised to be the best of friends forever.

She hated it. Picking up a regular pen, she thought of what to write.

Dear Lily, the letter eventually began,

I wish your son had died with you.

-Petunia

And tears fell.