Fate is a very fickle thing. It is heartless. Pure evil. Why else would it forsake the needy and float towards the ones who have it all? And speak of fortune. Whoever coined the proverb that fortune favours the needy desperately needs to get a taste of Petunia Evans's life.

Oh I was jealous, alright. That's right, no denials there. Downright jealous of the person who has stolen every praise from my parents' lips. She was annoying. Infinitely infuriating and demeaning the rest of us. Flipping her fiery red hair back and forth every now and then with an air of superiority, flicking her wand at my face in a threatening manner and constantly cuddling her owl.

I mean, who in their right minds would grow owls, of all creatures? And it had a name- Rayne. But apparently, she loved them. So my parents loved them too. See how that worked?

Absolutely ironic, the way my pitiful life has turned out. I went to an absolutely normal school where students learnt Mathematics, Science and Literature. Not Potions, Charms or any of the utterly bizarre subjects she learnt.

I distinctly remember the very first owl to step-or rather-fly into our house. Carrying the cursed letter which immediately whisked my eleven year old sister to the school which sent my life into a rollercoaster of despair. A rollercoaster of endless despair, of crushed hopes and dreams. Dreams which my parents could never relate to.

Ever since that wicked, wicked night I had been robbed of a sister, a loving companion. Sure, she came back every year. But boy had she changed! Instead of sitting right beside me and sorting out each and every confusion of mine, she whipped out her wand and shoved it ominously under my nose, while, cowardly me, I pleaded for mercy.

And very suddenly, when she came back from her first year at that school, her startling green eyes showed revulsion, disgust and shame whenever they landed on me. It was inexplicable. I demanded a reason but she dismissed it as a 'figment of my imagination'. Oh, how I felt my life was better over!

And of course, there was always the fact that my parents fawned over her all the time, sparing not a single glance at me. Green-eyed me, who sullenly shrunk in a corner every time she came in the scene.

But I was faithful. I kept my mouth zipped about her dirty li'l secret. I didn't tell a single soul that my elder sister was inextricably entwined in the uncanny world of witches and wizards. Nor did I tell anyone that I was close to bursting with jealousy that she was picked to go there, and not me. I mean, why not me? I was born into the same family, I had fair chances too. But no, the beautiful, the intelligent one had to have an inkling of magic in her blood, and before you know it, she's transforming teacups into stinky toads and the likes.

Weird, I know.

And then came the bombshell. Right after her final year at that school, she vanished. Leaving just a single note claiming that she was happily married to a certain Potter, and that it wouldn't do any good to worry about her.

My parents, being the loving ones they were, were of course, heartbroken. And who was there to comfort them but me? I, who was dejected myself, gave up all my dreams to pursue a successful career in who-knows-what just to let my sister live a good life.

And then came the real bolt from the blue. That my elder sister, the one who I had looked up to, the one who I thought was the luckiest girl in the entire universe, had been ruthlessly...slain.

My sacrifice was wasted, then. I spent a whole seven years mourning for nothing? I shattered my entire future just to witness my thankless wretch of a sister perish? It was the worst irony of my life, ever. And to think, I had been jealous of her! Jealous! Why, I was ten times more fortunate than her to have lived!

Guilt and pride are probably the worst combination of feelings you can have, They don't go too well together. I was proud. Proud to be normal. Yet, a pang of extreme guilt hit the very pit of my stomach every time the ghost of her scent, or her auburn hair came into my head. It was a very heady mix. And I was inexorably woven in it.

Maybe fate wasn't so cruel to me after all.

But also maybe fate played a very merciless trick on her after all.

Lily Evans, the luckiest girl in the world.

Or not.