Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe on the rights of JKR or any other copyright holder.

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Mr and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. The neighbours were in general agreement that they were the last people you would expect to see involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Today, Mrs. Dursley was in a rather skittish mood. She told her neighbours it was simply because her little hellion of a nephew was due to return from St. Brutus', and in part this was true. Petunia had been growing increasingly worried for her nephew's safety in recent years, especially following the – she took a moment trying to recall – ah, yes, the 'Holler' from her sister's former headmaster. Not that she could mention this to Vernon, mind you.

The situation had never been explained to her satisfaction, no doubt details considered irrelevant when providing an explanation for the silly 'Muggle'. But the correspondence she had with the man years before had made one thing quite clear; She was Harry's last blood relative, and if she did not provide the boy a place under her roof to call home, the boy would meet the fate of his poor mother before him, without even a chance at a proper life.

She had given the matter a great deal of thought, and her decision was made long before the basket was ever left on her doorstep. She and Lily had been sisters, after all. And family is family.

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Memories came to her uninvited, of a much different time. Their early childhood was spent quite happily; despite the age gap, Petunia never minded when her younger sister tagged along. Trips to the park, days spent kite flying and making up games of their own. Petunia always said that the kite would always like it more when they worked together. Looking back, the interesting loops and the way it would always miss the trees when it landed were more than likely another sign of her sister's magic, even back then. Certainly they didn't always get along perfectly, there would be the occasional quarrel, but they were sisters.

Then the letter came that fateful day, the silly brown owl swooped in and ruined everything. Petunia thought it must be some sort of odd joke, after it interrupted their pleasant family breakfast with the special french toast she had made for her sister's birthday, but Lily squealed in glee and their parents gushed over the honour in the weeks that followed. They left Petunia at home when they went for supplies, returning loaded down with fascinating books, odd herbs, a cauldron, and that wand. Lily had a particular fondness for the wand, not wishing to put it away except when their mother insisted before going out. It wasn't until Petunia watched her sister pack her bags to go off to the strange school, when the matter had really sunken in, that she wondered why no letter had arrived for her. Lily, wonderful and caring Lily, had promised to ask everyone and with any luck the oversight would be cleared away, and the sisters would again be together and studying the amazing things described in her new books.

They went to the train station as a family to see her off. Lily was nervous about going off to such a strange place and timidly approached a boy who was there with an owl in a cage, apparently a fellow student. After chatting a minute, she was calmer and came back to say goodbye. Each of them hugged her tightly and wished her well. Petunia's vision was so blurred with tears that she wasn't certain if there had been a door or if her sister had simply vanished through a wall. But she stood there, watching the spot, until her father had finally tugged her back. The drive home was long and silent.

Letters came quickly by owl, one for her parents and one for her. Written on sheets of parchment in a scratchy style, they spoke of an amazing school filled with fascinating subjects, wondrous creatures, and classmates who spoke of a whole world kept hidden from the ordinary people of England. Details were sketchy, of course – they had those laws, certainly, and couldn't very well tell just anyone all that went on. Lily assured her sister that she had begun asking teachers and classmates, but wouldn't give her a real answer as to why Petunia couldn't come.

As time passed, the letters decreased in frequency. Petunia had her own studies and wasn't overly concerned, but every now and then her thoughts turned to her sister. Christmas vacation came, and they met Lily at the train station. She was eager to see her sister again, catch up and cram in as much fun together as they could before their schools forced them apart again. Lily grinned upon seeing Petunia and ran to her. Petunia hugged her sister tightly, part of her never wishing to let go again.

“I've missed you so much! How has everything been with you? Your letters could be a mile long, and they still wouldn't tell me everything.”

“Oh, I'll tell you all about it – but first, here.” Lily pulled something from her pocket and held her hand out. Petunia wondered what odd gift her sister might have for her and reached to accept it.

Being in a public place, she did her best to keep the shriek of disgust down as she flung something slimy and wriggly in the direction of the nearest bin.

Lily was laughing hard, but managed to gasp, “Frogspawn!” before they were both pulled to the car by their parents.

The holidays had always been a favourite time of year for the sisters, and this year things had started off with even more excitement than usual. The Evans were overjoyed to have their youngest daughter back, and of course they had gone all out to make this holiday special. But it all paled when compared to the stories Lily told them; caroling would bring about excited babbling on the enchanted candles the school choir used, a trip to the skating rink would include whispered comments on the now-frozen lake at Hogwarts with a squid in it, and even when Petunia assisted her mother in the kitchen for all of Christmas Eve to prepare a magnificent Christmas dinner, Lily still spoke in fonder terms of the magical feasts that would appear on plates in the great hall.

Their parents would hang on every word that Lily spoke, leaving Petunia feeling rather left out of things. And when Christmas morning came, a quiet check revealed that Lily had gotten a good dozen more presents than her. Certainly, some had been from friends who had their owls deliver them that morning, but it was the principle of the thing.

The days passed all too quickly, and Petunia was feeling more and more frustrated at the change in her sister. But still she made an effort, and one afternoon she caught Lily on her own, seeing off a strange owl. Probably another of her friends who couldn't bear to let their new companion just have some time with their family and their family alone. Setting the thought aside, Petunia smiled and passed Lily a gingerbread person she had made. A smear of red frosting for hair, a cute iced face, and dark blue icing robe offered a close enough resemblance that her sister could see what was intended. Petunia was rather proud of her work, all things considered, but Lily frowned.

“My school robes are black. Or if you go by house colors, red and gold would be better. Only Ravenclaws wear blue uniforms.”

Petunia blinked, unsure how to respond. They didn't have any black frosting colour. Best to change to a more positive topic. “So have you found anything out on why I never received a letter? If things have been cleared up, I'll need to hurry to have everything sorted out before term starts.”

After giving a glare to a crumpled bit of parchment clenched in her hand, Lily spun around and looked at her sister with uncharacteristic venom, then spat, “You never received a letter because you're a stupid little muggle. You haven't a drop of magic in you, you never will, and you'll never be able to do what I can.”

Petunia's face fell, her last shred of hope dashed. Glaring at her sister, she cried, “Better a muggle than a freak like you!” Turning away before the tears started, Petunia fled to her room and slammed the door behind her. Hours later, her parents were trying to talk her out and Lily was still trying to attempt an apology, but she wouldn't hear of it. It wasn't until the next day that Petunia emerged from her room. She slipped to the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat before fetching a box from under the stairs along with some furniture polish and some cleaning rags, then returned to her room. She was done before noon, and her room had been cleaned nearly to the point of sterility. All her old storybooks had been cleared away, and they had been packed neatly in the box along with all her old dress-up costumes. Magic was real, but it was limited to a special world – one she had been rejected from. Once you know that for certain, what point is there in make-believe?

The chiming of the hall clock snapped Petunia out of her memories, and she grimly noted the hour. She'd need to talk Dudleykins into turning off the telly now to have him ready in time, and Vernon would want an extra half-hour to grumble about having to put up with her nephew for another summer, before they needed to make a show of tolerating him at the station. They'd all be there to greet him, of course. After all, they were family. She gave a last glance around the kitchen. Spotless as always. Perfectly normal, again as always.

Dropping the folded dishcloth in the hamper on her way to Dudley's room, Petunia quietly hoped that, at the very least, the neighbours believed this. It was getting harder and harder to even convince herself.

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Author's note: The strength of Lily's outburst was due to the letter she had just received. It was the oddly cruel sort of thing that eleven-year-olds are capable of, from a pureblood who was rather annoyed at the mudblood who stole the honor of having top marks in Charms from them.