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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The next time James Potter came to annoy her, he brought reinforcements.
Petunia allowed herself a second to survey the tall boy stalking at his side. Half a head taller than James, a wavy waterfall of dark, shining hair framed a face that could have been crafted from marble, dominated by a pair of piercing grey eyes.
Her first thought upon seeing him was that he was handsome. Her second was that he was aware of it.
Petunia couldn't pinpoint exactly what led her to that conclusion; it could have been the way the golden autumn-light hit the planes of his high cheekbones just a bit too perfectly to be an accident, the way he had squared his shoulders to promote their width, the way he had lifted his chin so he peered down his aristocratic nose at the world.
Or maybe it was the way he looked back at her. Dismissive, bored, already having found her wanting. Maybe she was not worthy in his eyes because she wasn't as pretty as the girls that usually fawned over him. Maybe it was the fact that she was dressed like Hagrid's slighter, female version: thick, coarse coat, long, mud-smeared trousers and sturdy, steel-capped boots.
And then James Potter opened his blasted mouth and whatever observations she had been collecting burned up in a blaze of anger.
"Petty!"
Petty?
The messy-haired boy pranced closer, his companion following along at a more sedate pace.
"What? We can't have two 'Evans' running around, it would get confusing."
Petunia vehemently wished Fluffy was here with her. This time she would have allowed him to get one good bite in before reeling him back.
"Oh, don't act so put out, it suits you perfectly. Or would you prefer Pet?"
Maybe two.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't address me at all."
His companion laughed. "I don't think she's tame enough to be called 'Pet' yet. Might have to domesticate her a bit, Prongs."
Petunia's nails bit into her palm.
James didn't even look at his friend. "See? We all have nicknames! And we give them to our favourites – hey, you might even know one of them; Snivellus ring any bells? Horrible hair, giant nose, pants after Evans like a dog in heat?"
"Sounds like you," Petunia replied blithely.
The friend laughed. James grimaced and touched his nose, nudging his round glasses in the process.
"You haven't seen him then," he mumbled. "You'd have never confused my perfect nose with that monstrosity."
Petunia had an inkling she knew whom he was talking about. The wretched boy. And now that she looked at James, standing next to his friend who was smiling maliciously at the comment, something in her brain loosened, a few pebbles clattering and causing an avalanche.
