'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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♱
'No one mourns the wicked No one cries they won't return No one lays a lily on their grave The good man scorns the wicked Through their lives, our children learn What we miss when we misbehave
And goodness knows the wicked's lives are lonely Goodness knows the wicked die alone It just shows when you're wicked, you're left only... On your own'
CW: all previous warnings throughout the entire book are present in this chapter
Petunia Leigh Evans was born to a family of textile workers in the Midlands in the middle of February, 1955. Her birth was reported in the local newsletter, as was common then, and she was referred to as a 'bonny bab'.
Lily Grace Evans was born on the first New Moon of 1960. The next two winters that followed were notably harsh and sorely felt by families such as the Evanses for the fact that the mills were closing at a rate of one per week.
Though money was tight, the Evans girls meant the world to their parents, as they did to each other. Petunia and Lily spent long afternoons and evenings traipsing around their town, running through nearby fields of wheat and less-than-clear streams. A single huge chimney dominated the distant skyline — their point of reference to find their way home at the end of these days.
Then, one day, on a nearly deserted playground, Petunia and Lily were swinging backwards and forward while a skinny boy was watching them from behind a clump of bushes.
