"Mummy? Who's Lily?"

Petunia Dursley's head shot up so fast that her neck cricked. Wincing, she set the plate that she had been washing down into the sink, shucked off the marigold gloves and massaged her neck with both of her hands.

Normally, the brat would be dealing with the washing up, but he was being punished. For another freakish occurrence. Petunia could not stand having Lily's child in her house. As well as sharing the same DNA as that wretched Potter, the brat had to have been a boy.

It would have been better if the brat had been a girl, that way, her little angel would not have been compared to the freak so much. And if it had been a girl, then Petunia would have reigned down the same misery that she had felt as a child. The constant gazing into the mirror, screwing up her eyes and imagining herself with prettier features, only to open them and realise that her wish had not come true. That staring into the mirror, was still plain, boring 'Tuney.'

Her little angel tilted his head to the side, the thick blond hair that she adored, flopping to the right. Chubby hands snatching a cookie from the tin, Dudley scoffed it into his mouth, before screwing up his face and whining loudly, effectively spraying the recently washed floor with sodden cookie crumbs.

"Mummy! I wanna know!"

Crouching down before her son, Petunia subjected him to a shaky smile, whispering: "Lily… is no one. She's dead, honey."

Dudley tilted his head back to its previous position, frown contorting his features.

"Mummy… You look upset."

Shaky smile increasingly strained, Petunia shook her head, whispering frantically;

"I'm fine, Duddy. Now, why don't you go and wait outside for Daddy? I'm sure he'll be home soon."

At this, Dudley's round face lit up. Barging past his mother, he scrambled into the living room, whacking a fist onto his cousin's cupboard. Dudley smirked as he shouted:

"My Daddy's coming home! Where's YOURS?"

In the kitchen, Petunia rose to her feet, attending to the washing up once again. She was pleased that she had wavered Dudley off of the topic of conversation that pained her to the core, and that she had composed herself in front of him.

Yet as she dunked the next plate into the sink, Petunia could not stop the few tears that slipped down her pinched face.

Her sister… Her Lily, had been stolen from her.

And regardless of the fact that Lily had been a freak, Petunia had loved her.

And she still did.