Petunia was always the worse sister - not as pretty, not as kind and especially not as magical as Lily. Jealousy and bitterness rule her life, until one fateful encounter changes her destiny ...
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Petunia was always the lesser out of the two Evaness...
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Petunia was still trying to figure out where all the oxygen had disappeared to when Eugene turned around, as if he could feel her boring eyes like something physically piercing his back.
He's taller, was the first conscious thought that flitted through her head upon really seeing him. Taller, and his face was slimmer as well, all in the span of a few months. What changes would a few years have havocked?
He was wearing loose trousers that were ripped around the knees (unkempt, Petunia's inner voice provided) and a white shirt whose cuffs were rolled back to his elbows, showcasing tanned skin and fine blond hairs. His hair was blissfully familiar, a nest of wayward curls that shone like spun bronze and gold. His eyes though ... deep, warm brown but he gazed at Petunia as if he couldn't quite trust what he was seeing. There was no teasing sparkle, no mischievous gleam - no too-wide smile stretching his lips.
"Petals?"
Hearing the address only he would ever use, Petunia took an unconscious step back. What was she doing here? She shouldn't have come during Summer Break, she had known this would happen, what was she supposed to do ...
Stay calm, she tried to tell herself, despite her wildly pounding heart. Stay calm, he doesn't matter anymore. Be polite, but show him that you don't care.
Still staring at him, Petunia forced herself to remember why she didn't care anymore - couldn't care anymore about Eugene - but the indelible voice refused to speak.
Usually Eugene's devastating words would echo quite freely in her head, unbidden and unwelcome, especially whenever her thoughts strayed to him. But now that she was actually looking at Eugene, at his eyes, his mouth, his few freckles and his unruly hair ... everything remained silent. Somehow the picture of his face didn't want to mesh with the memories of that callous voice she'd heard while standing outside the rusty aluminium shed. All those months she was haunted by it, she had never once tried to picture Eugene while he said it ...
And now her brain refused to merge the two things when he was right in front of her.
Without realising, Petunia had already opened her mouth. "I ..."
"The Occamies are through here," Bunty's voice ripped through Petunia's like a branch through a feeble, thin spider web. "I'll let Mr. Scamander know you're here, he should be back soon."
Petunia's head turned slowly, as if it was grinding against her neck, to stare at the woman, and so she missed the way Eugene's eyes widened at Bunty's words - only for his expression to shutter a second later.
Bunty was standing in front of an arched doorway just two down from the one Eugene was in, her dirt-smeared face lightly illuminated by trickling, sunset light. Just a few seconds ago Petunia would have had no compulsion about going over, her wish to see Ivy propelling her steps so fast she would have been in danger of tripping over her own feet. But now those same feet stayed rooted to the ground, as if invisible shackles bound her ankles.
