A/N: Dedicated to Elizabeth and Ellen, my semi-sisters. Not much else to say- just that his is going to be a bit sadder than my other fics and to please review when you finish!
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and her publishers own most of the characters, but I own the plot and the characters I made up (Auntie Mae, etc.) and you can’t have them! (Not that you’d want Auntie Mae…) So, anyway, no profits are being made and no infringement is intended.
"We’ll Always Be Sisters"
Another spring, another cleaning. One more time to sort through all the things I couldn’t bear to throw out last year… some old baby clothes of Dudley’s, the old, now broken, clock given to Vernon and I when we were married- it’d been new then- (is that symbolic?), and these… ah, yes, these. As I stared down at the two photographs in my hand I thought back over how many times I had come this close to throwing them away, and along with them, the past. The closest I’d ever come had been thirteen years ago- when they had informed me of my sister’s death. I looked down at her smiling face. Lily. Oh, Lily, why’d you ever leave me? But in truth I knew she’d left me behind long before her death- she’d left me when she was only eleven years old. * * *
Lily had always been special. I’d known it even before we found out she was a witch. I’d known it when this first picture was taken. As I squinted down at the two smiling girls playing on the sandy shore, tears welled up and blurred my vision. Though you could not tell it from the old fashioned, black and white photo, I knew that one of the girls had vivid, silky red hair and emerald green eyes, while the other had pale blue eyes and delicate blonde ringlets. Unconsciously, I ran a hand through my hair, now thinning and salon-tinted. How long had it been since I’d had those ringlets? Lily had never lost the color or silky texture of her hair, but then, she’d never had a chance to, had she? She’d been killed before she’d barely begun to live- only twenty-four, she’d been. How then, at twenty-four had she already learned so much more about life than I have yet in all my forty-one years?
I shifted my gaze to the other photograph. This one never failed to amaze me- it moved! As I watched Lily standing there in her white wedding dress, her new husband, James Potter, wrapped an arm around her waist. They were surrounded by three other young men- one, I knew to be the best man, the other two I didn’t recognize, but it was a candid shot, as they weren’t part of the wedding party. Suddenly the best man lightly punched the shoulder of one of the two men, the taller one, with thick brown hair (A/N: Yes, it was thick then!). They both laughed, apparently sharing a joke, and behind them, a waiter, carrying a plate of hors d’oeuvres entered from underneath the frame on the right side. As he crossed the picture, the third man, short and chubby, hurried after him, trying to get another munchie. Watching him go, Lily, James, and the two remaining men all burst out laughing.
I closed my eyes against the threatening flood of tears, only to be greeted by a scene from my own memory (traitor!) of a church, the altar adorned with lavender surprise lilies. (Strangely appropriate, don’t you think?) To this day, I don’t know why I went to that wedding… don’t know what compelled me… perhaps I never will, but the point is I did go. I remember it as though it were yesterday… I slipped into the back pew, on the bride’s side. Most people on Lily’s side I knew, or at least recognized… Mum, up at the front in her ‘mother of the bride’ outfit; old, practically deaf, Auntie Mae, asking loudly (I could hear every word) when they were starting this shindig; Lily’s kindergarten teacher; her best friend from elementary school and her husband… the list went on and on. It looked like a perfectly normal wedding, until you turned your head, two inches to the left- then it became clear that all of Lily and James’ friends from that school had chosen to sit on the groom’s side. Understandable, really. The brilliantly colored robes looked much less conspicuous over there. In fact, come to think of it, it did look like a perfectly normal wedding, as long as you assumed that the bride and groom came from completely different planets. These were the thoughts running through my head while I sat in the back pew and fiddled with my hand-bag, and these were the thoughts interrupted by the opening notes to "Here Comes The Bride". I stood, but was careful not to turn around, lest Lily or Dad recognize me. I did get a glimpse of her as they passed though, and she looked absolutely angelic. I could tell from the expression on James’ face that he agreed with me. Lily was positively glowing as Dad walked her down the aisle, towards her husband-to-be. Then came the service and I watched my baby sister vow to love and cherish a man who (I was sure) would break her heart. Even I couldn’t imagine that he would be the cause of her death, though. It seems, James Potter, that instead of breaking Lily’s heart, you broke mine. * * *
After the ceremony, I slipped out as quietly as I had come and headed home to Vernon- he’d be upset if dinner wasn’t ready when he got in. Two weeks later a package containing two photographs arrived. * * *
I looked down at the back of the frame in my hand and opened it. There, on the back of Lily’s wedding picture, were the words (smudged by frequent tears) my mother had written to me over fifteen years ago:
My dearest Petunia,
I know Lily was sorry you couldn’t make it to the wedding. In truth, I think she was hurt you weren’t there. I know you girls have had some differences and difficulties over the years, but please remember, you’ll always be sisters.
All my love, Mum
As if for proof of this last statement, she had included the beach snapshot. I looked down at my hand, coming back to the present. Then I flipped over the black and white photo and recognized Lily’s graceful handwriting immediately:
Petunia and Lily- sisters at the shore- 1967.
A/N: Okay, that was way more angsty than I originally intended, but that’s okay if it’s good. So, is it? You tell me- write a review!
anne