I'm sorry, Lily.
I know what you would've done.
I know what I didn't.
Truth be told, I see you in him.
Every time he appears in front of me.
Every single time.
That time, you were 9, if memory serves. I'd just turned 12, might have been just 3 days after my birthday. We were just playing, you and I, doing what sisters do, under that tree, when he showed up- remember?
I remember him. His disgusting clothes and his muddy shoes. That revolting mop of hair and that nose. He was everything I wanted to stay away from. Everything I wanted you to stay away from.
He'd called you a witch- remember when you thought that word was an insult?
I wanted to protect you. I didn't want some random sewer kid to go around calling you a witch. I wanted to drag you away from him.
I thought I had.
But then you started playing with him. I was your sister. I was your friend. Was my companionship not enough for you? Is that why you let him lead you astray?
I remember the days you would leave the table early, your supper still unfinished, to go around town with that boy.
I used to think you were mine- were you not? Were you not my sister? Wasn't our bond supposed to be unbreakable?
Then how am I still here? How did you leave me?
Why did you have to go?
Sometimes I think that if I could have held you back, if I could have stopped you from talking to him, you would have still been here.
That boy, he brought a whole new world into your perspective. You were always the curious one, the one whose eyes sparkled. The one whose eyes could sparkle.
If you'd known that that world would've ripped you away from me, would you still have gone with him?
Would you still have left if you had known that you had a choice not to?
I still remember the day you got your letter.
I was reading the newspaper with daddy. You didn't care about the news. I didn't understand why.
I don't care about the news now. What's the point of knowing what's happening in only one world? For all we know, everything fed to us is a lie to keep some other side safe. I'd rather stay unaware than be misinformed.
Mommy was wearing that pink apron of hers, the one that inexplicably smelled of our favourite apple pie. Cinnamon, apples and sugar, I wonder if it was some perfume she knew we liked.
It used to be our favourite. Something you and I liked back when we were still a 'we'.
I know you'd still love me, if you could.
I don't know about myself.
I remember the way your eyes widened when you were reading the letter. I remember the way you had run all around the house screaming, even though all the members of the house were present in the same room as you. I had wondered what letter addressed to an 11 year old could be so surprising.
I remember how happy mommy and daddy had been. I remember how tearful daddy had been when he hugged you, his sweet little daughter, his princess, his pride.
I remember the way your face fell when I asked you what was so special about being accepted to some magic school. I remember how mommy had screamed at me to stop being such a bully- I had only been telling the truth, had I not? If you wanted to learn magic you could've well enough joined the local circus.
I was the one who warned you. If they'd known the magic would ultimately kill you, would they have so readily let you go?
I do not care if me saying this is selfish, but if tying you down would have prevented you from being ripped away from me, tied you down I would've.
How would you have felt if I were the one to leave?
Maybe you would've forgiven me for leaving. You always have. Every time I left, you waited.
But what waiting can I do now?
You're never coming back, are you?
I'm not as strong as you, Lily. I never was.
I can't find anyone that fits into the place you had held in my heart. There's nobody left to complete me. Would you have left if you had known how it would break me?
Perhaps you would've. Perhaps you never cared about the consequences of your actions. Perhaps you thought you could change the ending.
Perhaps you would've broken whatever bonds I used to tie you down. Perhaps your wings were too strong for my hold. Perhaps you never were mine to keep.
But you were, for certain, mine to lose.
But here I am, after the curtains have closed on your story.
It's not very fair, is it?
I still see you.
Every time Harry calls me his aunt Petunia, I'm certain he never heard you call me Petunia, so how is it that he's able to perfectly replicate your way of calling me? How is it that his voice holds the same timbre, the same little lilt at the end, the same familiarity when calling me?
Every time he's in the corner, and his shadow is the only means by which I can recognize him.
Why does every last bit of you have to be in him? Are you really gone?
Is this some sort of magic test? Are you pretending to be this child just to see what I would do if you left your child with me?
Most days even looking at him is too difficult. Some days I wish he never leaves my sight.
His eyes, his eyes, Lily. Is this some sort of magickal thing I'm too normal to understand? Do you people do something that make your children's eyes the exact same as yours?
He doesn't look like that boy. Was it someone else you married? Did the boy prove to be every bit as revolting as I suspected he'd be?
In the end, they both took you away from me.
Maybe I really did need you.
What if Harry receives that letter too?
How can I let you be ripped away from me again? How can I let it happen all over again?
How do I make him stay?
He's just like you, I can't get him away from that world, no matter how hard I try to.
Will I have to see the same thing happen again? Will I have to let the same person leave again?
I thought I knew how to contain him. I don't, Lily, I don't.
I loved you. I love every bit of you I thought I could make.
I love the you that is my creation, but it still counts, right?
Perhaps Harry is here to help me correct my mistakes. I can't turn back time, but I can learn from it.
I don't know much about time, really, but if this is it's way of asking for my forgiveness, who am I not to accept it?
I will save Harry, no matter how rough I have to be to achieve that. I will not let you go again.
If you hate me for this, I'm sorry.
I'll make what I wanted to make you of the boy, even if it makes you despise me.
I'll have you stay with me if even you hate me.
I should have saved you when I could. Now I have another chance.
This time you're mine to keep.
I'm sorry, Lily. I really am.
