Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child must work for a living,
But the child that's born on the Sabbath day
Is blithe and bonny and good and gay.
-Mother Goose Poems
They were here. She had known they were coming, and the prospect had allowed a tickle of annoyance to prickle at the back of her mind in the days since the news, but now they were here and Petunia had never before felt so damn angry, had never before felt such a hot coil of fury that sat heavily in the pit of her stomach and blazed behind her eyes. A visit before the wedding and a formal introduction of friends only previously met in passing, soon to become family. She hadn’t wanted to be here though, with a deep and yawning desperation. She would have been happy anywhere else. Nevertheless here she was, cold and shaking regardless of the warm summer air, thinking bitterly of all the normal things she was being forced to miss.
Vernon had invited her out again, and she had been ready to happily accept. Her plans had been ruined though, tossed aside easily as the trivial things they no doubt were in comparison to the great and glorious needs of her sister and her soon-to-be husband. Vernon and her father had never managed to strike the instant affability that had come so easily between him and Potter. Petunia had an inkling that her father didn’t particularly approve of the man, although he had been delighted for her, in his own reserved way. But Vernon made her happy and made her smile, and that was all her father needed to bestow his blessing on them, although not enough for him to allow his daughter to abandon her sister in favour of Vernon on such a special day. He had extended an invitation to her boyfriend in concession, to join them for the meal, to show that he too was part of the family. Petunia had struggled not to cry out of sheer frustration.
The new dress she wore, soft and floaty so that it hung simply from her shoulders, had not been intended for this gathering either. It had been for Vernon alone, and she couldn’t help feeling it was ruined now. Petunia had her mother's figure - there could be no denying it - often described as delicate or slender. Petunia swerved more aptly towards depicting it with the word lanky in her own mind, however, but even she had to admit she looked acceptable in this. Perhaps, once Lily arrived, she could merely pass for bland in comparison. Lily, with her father's red hair, who stood a good three inches shorter than her sister and seemed slightly better proportioned for it. Lily, whom Petunia hated with all her soul, an emotion her father blindly referred to as protectiveness for the sister who had moved so far away and into such strange places. Petunia didn’t have the heart to correct him, even now.
She had called Vernon a few days ago and made excuses to cancel the invitation he had received. No matter the dress, no matter how much she wished for his presence, she would not allow him here. Not whilst her sister was present and looking so different, not whilst her sister was here shamelessly flaunting everything Petunia was not. She had then made Vernon’s excuses with her parents as to why he was unable to attend and how dreadfully sorry he was to have let them down at the last minute. They were disappointed, both of them. Or at least they pretended to be. It was better than Vernon knowing though, better than Vernon discovering her secret. Lily had brought guests home before, mainly giggling girls whom Petunia had instantly despised, but who could still pass for normal at a glance. James Potter had been a different matter, his mere presence declaring his abnormality and shouting Petunia’s own appalling relationship to it. No, Vernon was not here, and she was certainly glad of it now, given the things that were standing, chatting and laughing in her father’s hallway, oblivious to her presence as she scowled at them over the banisters from the top of the stairs. They hadn’t even had the decency to wear something normal, insisting on those freaky robes. Not that anyone would see them since they had just appeared out of thin air in the hallway, with a muffled thud and stream of playful curses to accompany the loud crack that had set her pulse racing.
There were more of them than she had expected, as Petunia stepped from the sanctuary of her bedroom. It had once been their bedroom, until Lily had returned that first year and promptly demanded one of her own. She had smiled and laughed when she got it too, whilst Petunia had cried into her pillow in the big, empty room she was left with. Scowling bitterly at the memory, she moved softly down the stairs, keeping her footsteps light and silent and peering into the living room whilst remaining steadfastly outside of it.
Her father had risen from his usual seat by the fireplace and was shaking hands vigorously with a slight, sandy haired boy who looked haggard and ill. Just like them, really, bringing their abnormal sickness with them with no thought for anyone else, thinking themselves beyond manners, beyond decency, always standing out and being different. And then Potter was pushing a dark haired man forward, who rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish whilst her father slapped him on the back and joked loudly.
‘And here’s Petunia,’ her father was suddenly booming as she fixed a forced smile to her face and stepped fully into the already overcrowded room, the air closing around her. ‘I was starting to worry you had deserted us!’ Petunia gave a small laugh, high and grating as she fought not to buckle under the weight of so many stares, judging and weighing her as if she were the one with the nerve to be abnormal. Hunching over as if she could hide herself, she caught a reassuring smile from her mother that allowed the feeling to lessen enough for the conversation to come crashing back down, her father’s voice still ringing loud and clear. ‘After all, you can’t have a wedding without a bridesmaid.’ No, there was little hope she could have mistaken the implications behind the comment, not with her father smiling down at her so tenderly. Petunia opened her mouth at the same time as Lily, her own shrill indignation rising in tandem with Lily’s reasonable tone.
‘I haven’t had a chance to ask her yet, father,’ Lily chastised gently, flashing an apologetic smile across the room. Petunia had a sneaking suspicion that the apology wasn’t for the unexpected comment either, but more for the fact that up until this very moment the thought of asking her own sister, her own flesh and blood, to play such a role had not even entered her mind. Never mind that when they were younger, when things had been normal, they had both dressed up in their mother's evening gowns and gathered bundles of flowers that were more weeds from the garden. Never mind that they had paraded down the street, a large stuffed bear held firmly between them with a scruffy bow tie fastened haphazardly round his neck. Never mind that they had been best friends for almost ten years, inseparable until separation had been forced upon them. ‘She might be busy.’ Apparently in Lily’s new world, magic was more important than blood.
‘Nonsense.’ Had her father always been so loud and overbearing? Petunia hoped not, although she didn’t relish in the only possibility that was left; that he was reacting so obnoxiously, so distastefully, merely due to the presence of the strangers who tainted everything dear to her. ‘Unless, of course,’ he turned to Lily as his voice became teasing, ‘you are worried about her showing you up on your big day?’ Petunia found herself turning a deep and mortifying shade of red, fighting back the burning at the corner of her eyes as she felt everyone in the room turn to look at her once again, the crushing weight returning to her shoulders, appraising the chances that she could ever outshine her sister. No, she had far to go before that could even form a laughable threat. She managed a weak smile towards her father though, despite the twisting of shame in her stomach, as he beamed proudly with no intention to humiliate his daughter and completely oblivious to the fact that he had managed regardless. ‘Besides, who ever heard of sisters having to ask?’
And just like that she was not only forced into attending the wedding, but into being a part of it.
‘Do you know where it will be held yet?’ Her words were choked and forced, but if the illusion of interest kept her father happy then it was worth it. ‘A church, perhaps?’ The dark haired man let out a snort of laughter and muttered a comment at the question, the glares he received from Potter and Lily both failing to quiet him until an elbow connected sharply with his ribs and he winced.
‘We haven’t quite decided yet,’ Lily replied, sending Potter a meaningful look as the man whispered a few sharp words into his friend’s ear. ‘We were considering the lake at the school, but that would require the Headmaster's permission, and he has mentioned he may well be rather busy, which is a shame because it really is beautiful. You would love it there.’ Petunia scowled at the way Lily’s eyes lit up at the thought and the reminder of places she could never go.
‘Not to mention the difficulty of getting Muggles past the wards.’ The man had the audacity to lean over again, causing Petunia to shrink back slightly as Potter elbowed his friend for a second time, harder though as the man glared. ‘What? It’s true.’ He was dragged away muttering into a conversation with her parents, as Lily gave them a side-long look, moving closer until she was side by side with the sister no one would ever guess.
‘So you won’t be holding it anywhere…normal?’ Petunia asked carefully, holding her head high as Lily gave her a sympathetic look filled with understanding Petunia knew she didn’t really have.
‘Sorry.’ Lily smiled again. ‘But there are too many Wizards attending who wouldn’t feel…comfortable in a church, or any other Muggle place. Aren’t you excited to see my world though?’
‘This is your world,’ Petunia managed to grind out, her voice low enough so that Potter’s joking voice almost drowned it out. ‘Or at least it was, for eleven years.’ It seemed that once the rant she had been bottling up for years started, it was reluctant to stop. ‘You may be one of them, but you’re one of us too, yet you call us Muggles like we’re alien.’ Lily had the nerve to look abashed, but they were dragged apart before she could reply, as her father put his arm round Petunia’s shoulder.
‘What are you two lovely ladies discussing so secretly then?’
‘Just my extreme lack of manners,’ Lily said smoothly whilst Petunia stumbled for an excuse, the ease of her sister’s grace emphasising the glaring awkwardness of her own presence. ‘I have yet to properly introduce her to my friends.’
And once again the world spun forward regardless.
Lily held out a hand to the ill looking man, who shuffled forwards with a lop-sided grin and held his hand out awkwardly. Loathe though she was to shake it, manners forced Petunia to at least brush fingers with him as Lily nattered on beside her, as though the words mere moments ago had never passed between them.
‘This is Remus Lupin, the one sane man amongst the lot of them. Remus, this is my sister, Petunia.’
‘Pleasure,’ he spoke with a slight accent, bowing his head in a manner Petunia felt extremely mocking.
‘Same,’ she offered in a tight voice as Lily stepped back to drag the dark-haired man from his conversation with her mother.
‘And this is Sirius Black,’ Lily pushed the tall man forwards again. ‘James’ best man.’ He was taller than her, although not by much, as Petunia looked up to his arrogant smile.
‘As bridesmaid I guess that would make me your date,’ he commented slyly, a teasing glint lighting behind his eyes. Petunia despised him all ready. ‘So, do I get a kiss now, or will you be saving it for later?’ Her speechlessness seemed to amuse him as he winked obscenely before continuing. ‘I am sure I can hold myself back from your most wicked feminine wiles and be gentlemanly enough to wait until we have gotten to know each other a little better, if you would prefer.’ He probably meant for his smile to be dashing, instead of the indecent leer that was substituted in its place.
‘I all ready have a date, thank you very much.’ She was being prudish, she knew, and didn’t particularly care.
‘Vernon is, of course, most welcome,’ Lily added, reminding Petunia in an instant that it wasn’t going to be a normal wedding, and that if he came her secret would be discovered. It was a better alternative to the conceited man still standing before her, giving her a considering look as though she were on display. ‘And don’t mind Sirius; he is of the misguided impression that all women were put on this Earth to fawn over his existence.’ Petunia had the distinct impression that the man didn’t view her so much as a woman as he did some sort of novelty attraction. His entire bearing screamed ‘better than you’. ‘It’s a shame Peter isn’t here to meet you though.’
‘Oh, he’ll be along later, no doubt,’ Sirius said with a chuckle. ‘New job, you know how it is. Trying to impress the boss with his long and dedicated hours.’
‘I’ll go make tea while we wait then.’ Petunia didn’t wait for an answer, pulling the lounge door open fiercely and storming down to the kitchen, slamming that door behind her, for what little distance it gave, simply glad to be away from the stares. She held the kettle under the tap, the rushing water soothing before she placed it back in its holder and flicked the switch.
Vernon would have to come to the wedding. She couldn’t take the invitation back, not now, not after announcing his presence to the entire room. That foul man, Sirius, would no doubt leap upon his absence as an excuse to further belittle her for not being her perfect, pretty, magical sister.
The cups hit the tray with a clatter, the handle of one chipping slightly against the sugar bowl as Petunia swiped angrily at her face with the back of her hand. The boiling water sloshed dangerous up the side of the pot, a few spots splashing against her dress and leaving dark spots, but she didn’t care. Lifting the tray, she made a quick check to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything before balancing it carefully on one arm, the other reaching out the open the door. She pushed it gently open and gasped in shock at the man who blocked the path beyond.
She felt anger unlike anything before, glaring at Sirius, who gave no indication of having any intention to move out of her way, the tea slowly cooling on the tray between them.
Eventually one of them had to speak. ‘The tea will get cold,’ Petunia said icily.
‘I can fix that.’ And then he was pointing that stick thing at her and muttering something indecipherable as a warm mist settled over the dainty china pot. She could feel the heat emanating from it on the sides of her hands, causing her to almost drop the entire thing. It was swept from her hands effortlessly though, as Sirius placed it carefully on the nearby counter and Petunia tried to squeeze past whilst his attention was elsewhere. She failed, his voice grating on her nerves as it once again picked up with superiority. ‘And I don’t want you to think I care or anything,’ he was speaking loftily, his hand swinging round to rest arrogantly against the doorjamb, blocking her escape, as though this were a casual conversation, ‘but this day is important to Lily. And what is important to Lily is important to James. And what is important to James immediately becomes my business, whether I like it or not. Whether he likes it or not.’ He gave her a measuring look as Petunia’s lips thinned.
‘I don’t see what this has to do with anything.’
‘You are upsetting Lily,’ Sirius said bluntly, ‘and as best man I simply cannot allow that. You really hate your sister that much for being a witch?’ The sudden statement caught Petunia off guard as she stuttered for a moment before glaring.
‘Why would anyone want to be a freak like you?’ she said, her voice hard and her eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Walking ‘round like you’re better than the rest of us with your tricks and spells, calling us Muggles…’
‘It’s what you are,’ Sirius interrupted with faint confusion.
‘There is no need for you to make it sound like an insult!’
‘Ah, so you’re jealous then.’ Sirius’ smile widened in apparent understanding, as though he had solved a complex problem and discovered the answer were really quite simple. ‘There is no need for you to be, not really, nothing wrong with being a Muggle. Some of the nicest people I know are Muggles.’
His easy lie made Petunia’s blood boil as she snarled under her breath. ‘If you think a bit of strange mumbling and a few fancy sparkles would make me jealous, then you have a lot to learn.’ And it was true; she had never cared about the strange books or the flashing lights. She had cared about her sister. She had cared more about her mother and father, who were so busy being proud they had never noticed that at the same time they had been just as deserted as Petunia herself.
‘You know, you could be quite attractive yourself, for a Muggle,’ Sirius continued playfully, with a small smile of consideration. Petunia bit back on a scream of outrage. The wild accusations were one thing, but to so callously throw such a thing in her face was unbearable. Lily had the magic, Lily was the one who sparkled through the world, Lily was the one this Sirius cared about. And for her sister he would do something he obviously considered beneath him; because of his magic, he seemed to expect Petunia to fall worshipfully at his feet, thanking him profusely for kind comments that he obviously didn’t mean and that could never possibly be true. For Lily he would lean down closer, moving slowly until his lips were mere inches from her ear before whispering. ‘If you would just pull that almighty stick out of your arse for a second, that is.’ Petunia opened her mouth to protest, but words failed her as a set of warm lips pressed gently against hers, which pursed tightly together against the intrusion, her hands reaching up to his shoulders to push him away. He gave in without a fight, smirking knowingly. ‘Not even for that kiss, huh? Perhaps it is a good thing you all ready have someone else.’ Insincerity rang from his every word and Petunia felt her eyes burning sharply.
‘How dare you!’ Sirius didn’t even look phased.
‘It was worth a try.’
Petunia didn’t say anything more, her hand slamming against the tray on the side as she pushed past the man, sending him crashing into the wall behind him. She jumped in shock, her heart pounding painfully and breathing harsh as another crack echoed round the hallway and a small man appeared in front of her, mouth hanging open in surprise and slight apprehension at the look on her face and the tears hovering in the corners of her eyes.
‘Hi?’ he offered tentatively as Sirius appeared behind her, grinning like an idiot as he stuck his head back into the living room. Petunia figured she may as well not have existed for all the mind he paid her, and she was just fine with it that way.
‘Hey guys, Peter finally arrived.’ Petunia squeezed her eyes shut at the cheerful tones, making her way blindly forward, hand reaching for the railing. She would rather Lily think her rude for disappearing without warning than have her feel pity for her dull and dreary sister.
A hand on her shoulder caught her attention. ‘You all right?’ Peter looked anxiously to her as she spun round on him angrily, shrugging his hand away stiffly.
‘Don’t you dare touch me,’ she hissed, and Peter shied back, watching her run past with a confused expression. Her footsteps on the stairs were gone before Sirius appeared to usher him into the room.
‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘Dunno,’ Sirius glanced up the stairs with a frown, but Petunia was not to be seen. He shrugged dismissively, mood instantly lightening as he punched Peter playfully on the shoulder, earning himself a wince. ‘I mean, could you put into words exactly what was wrong with Snivellus?’
Peter was rubbing his arm meaningfully on the spot where Sirius’ fist had landed. ‘Beyond being an evil, greasy git?’ he questioned with a small smile, thoughts of the distraught woman fading slightly.
‘With the personal hygiene of a rat.’
‘Hey, I take offence to that.’ Peter sounded indignant as Sirius threw an arm round his shoulders and his gaze was once again drawn to the staircase as a door slammed on the landing above. ‘You didn’t say anything to her, did you?’ Peter turned to Sirius, his expression a mixture of concern and accusation.
‘Nah, I just don’t think she likes wizards much.’ Peter didn’t look completely convinced, but remained silent. ‘And they say we’re prejudiced.’
‘They might say that about you, with your almighty Black blood and whatnot, but I like to think that not all of us our tainted with the same brush.’ The door to the living room closed behind them as they entered, the space between it and the room above too far to go.