P a s s i o n a n d L o v e

Christmas Day

(love is a universal religion)

Petunia is born on Christmas Day. Obviously, she doesn't remember it, but her father once told her that it was a strenuous time, only brightened by the shining light that she represented. He makes it sound like a fairytale, like she was the princess that everyone adored, like she was the girl who ignited fire and passion in her parents' hearts and caused everyone to coo and fawn over her. She knows that, really, it would have been a messy affair, her mother aching after a long and grueling labour, but she imagines her fairytale world anyway, complete with a little pink bow residing in her hair.

She imagines a world where she is queen and her birth was celebrated with banners and fireworks and royal progressions, not just a bottle of wine and a weeping grandmother. Happiness radiates from every face, she has the attention of a thousand eyes, and there is definitely nothing even remotely reminiscent of the true scenario.

At least in her imagination she can feel the love and the passion.

---

When Petunia is nine, her grandparents are invited for Christmas dinner. Petunia and Lily are groomed to perfection, turned into living, breathing porcelain dolls just to be scrutinised by their own family. Her dress is itchy, but her mother shoots her a reproving glance every time she attempts to scratch. Petunia would do it deliberately, just to irk her overbearing grandmother and laugh at the look of hideous disgust and despair as her grandfather ponders the state of young children today, but she won't, because she's good and proper and the model daughter, even if Lily is the one with all of the attention.

Her grandparents barge through the door, cramming a parcel into her hands, before engulfing Lily in a hug. Lily grins, but it's forced, her teeth are too close together, her cheeks too stretched.

She doesn't want the love of her grandparents, but Petunia does.

Petunia flops in the corner, before shooting her parents an apologetic glance and straightening herself out in the grand, high backed chairs that surround the dining room table. Prim and Proper, as always. With tantalisingly and frustratingly slow speed she tears at the wrapping paper, her face ready to burst into motion and start grinning. It's habit these days, she now knows not to expect the new records or dolls that she wants, but the dresses and the soaps and the pretty, frilly and oh so useless things that she doesn't.

"Thankyou," she mumbles, she can feel her skin burning under her mother's persistent glares as that smile graces her face, sincere yet also slightly fake.

Her grandparents are about to respond with their customary "you're welcome," but Lily interrupts.

"Grandma, Grandpa, look at me."

She sprints across the room, arms flailing in an all too good impression of an aeroplane, and then suddenly she flips upside down, showing off her perfect handstand. Her skirt wobbles, exposing a small amount of pearly white thigh, which is something for which Petunia would be berated about for hours, yet they clap like mad for Lily, it's as deafening as thunder.

No-one notices Petunia sneak off to her room.

"Dear Father Christmas," she wishes, even though she no longer believes in such things, because that's for fools like Lily. Father Christmas is just some fat old man from the village, a different one every year, it's not like they have the power to change anyone's life. Even though she's already opened her presents and gotten that gorgeous dress she wanted and a massive pile of things she didn't want, she continues. "I want a signed Beatles poster and a new pair of shoes and I want Lily to disappear and Mum and Dad to love me best."

It's a harsh thought, but passion surges through Petunia flowing as fast a wave and she just wants to ride it. She's always thought herself as calm, not exactly boring but very much living to a routine. Everyone knows exactly what to suspect from Petunia Evans.

That's probably why the whole family is shocked when she finally appears back downstairs, tears clinging to her eyelashes. There is a stunned silence, and then her mother says, voice dripping with regret, although Petunia thinks it's probably more for the fact that she's wetting her dress than anything, "Happy birthday."

Petunia nods, but still she feels like something is missing, because masks and smothering things can't hide what wasn't already there.

---

Fate is a funny thing, Petunia decides, staring forlornly at the Christmas tree, complete with ornate decorations and glittering baubles. How can you hate someone, despise every fibre of their being, and then miss them as soon as they are away?

The house seems empty, as though she was the eternal flame and it has been extinguished, and yet she seems to be everywhere. The ribbon adorning the Christmas cake is the exact shade of her hair, and the green of the wrapping paper seems to stare back at her with as much intensity as Lily's eyes.

Christmas is over, as is her birthday, and prayers have been said and presents unwrapped, but it's so harsh, so formal and meticulous. Petunia's starting to understand why Lily is the apple of her parents' eye; it isn't' because of her brains, her mesmerising dance skills or her wicked sense of humour, it is her passion and her life and spirit.

And for this, and this alone (or at least that's what she tells herself), Petunia misses her sister. Without Lily around, Christmas suddenly seems like a present that's already been unwrapped, the excitement is gone, everything has been stripped to the core, and it's all devoid of love.

So, as she blows out the last candle on the combined Christmas and birthday cake (Petunia still can't help but be jealous that Lily wasn't born on Christmas Day and have to share her birthday with the world), she makes a wish.

"I wish Lily would come home, and that Mum and Dad would love me, just like they love her."

---

Lily does come home for Christmas, two years later, dragging Severus, that stupid, idiotic, naïve, bat like boy with her. Petunia sees her parents' noses upturn, but they hide them behind mountains of presents and plates of roast turkey, as though it will hide their obvious distaste. She can't help but sneer along, because perfect Lily has finally done something wrong, and she knows she should hate this boy, because he's from her world, the world that she so desperately wants to be a part of and yet he's so captivating and something inside her burns for him, but it's so obvious that, just like everyone else, he's besotted with her vibrant and exquisite sister.

After the joint Christmas and birthday dinner and present unwrapping, they sneak outside, all three of them, ignoring their mothers' persistent cries of "Lily, Petunia."

They sprawl themselves on the swings in the nearby playground, Sev splays himself across a park bench and Lily settles herself between his legs; he curls her hair around a bony finger, seemingly unperturbed by Petunia's visible disgust. Petunia sits on the rusty wooden swing, her feet gently grazing against the sand that covers the coarse grass.

She cannot help but be mesmerised by the sickening display. A fire is burning inside her, consuming her soul, and she's writhing with jealousy, and yet no-one notices it. She's just Petunia Evans, the sister who is special to no-one.

Petunia wants to wish and pray that Severus would love her, but she won't, because fate is against her and it's obvious that Lily and Severus are destined for a happily ever after.

They're destined for love. Petunia is only destined to want love.

---

Four years later, when Petunia is twenty and finally able to say she is taken, Lily announces that she's bringing another friend home for Christmas. Dreamily, she remembers Severus, her world both tainted and blessed by broken dreams and hazy remnants of a past, by memories of the swing set, which had creaked eerily in the snowy winter night's silence. He's the past now, and Vernon is her present and her future. He's her Prince Charming, only with a bit more weight and a stupid moustache that she really wants to shave off, but she can't figure out how without offending him.

It's not Severus that Lily brings home though, but another, infinitely more gorgeous boy. He bows and kisses her parents' hands and introduces himself as James. Lily keeps giving him wary glances, as though she's worried that he won't behave, and yet he captivates her whole family. Vernon is doting on her, telling everyone that it's her birthday and insisting that they spoil her, but it seems so fake next to his stories of escapades and exploding potions and Quidditch, whatever that is. It's turned into a silent battle between Lily and Petunia's boyfriends, something that is never acknowledged, but everyone knows it's there, the underlying tension and the slightly less than friendly glances.

After opening presents and listening to Vernon gush about his prospects at Grunnings and James talk about something or other to do with criminals (Petunia thinks it's got something to do with catching unscrupulous people like the police do), everyone scurries into the dining room for Christmas dinner.

Everyone's laughing, and Vernon and she are discussing his neighbours, who spend more time staring out the windows than at their television, when Lily emits a shriek and jumps into James' arms, sending gravy flying across the table. Quickly, Petunia's eyes flicker from the broken, torn Christmas cracker to the velvet box that lies on the table, and to Lily and James, who are sharing a passionate kiss, despite her parents tutting.

"Lily Evans, will you make me the luckiest man alive by marrying me."
"Yes, yes, of course."

And as they lean in again, Petunia can't help but feel that same writhing jealousy she felt all those years ago, it's wriggling around inside her like a snake. She thought that Vernon could cure her entire life, and patch up the leaking holes that allowed envy to pour from her heart, but still, she wants everything Lily has.

She wants love.

---

(a/n: This story was written for the Reviews Lounge All I Want for Christmas project, where I claimed Petunia wanting love. xD For anyone who is interested, you can find links to our profile and our forum on my profile.)

tbc,

-Cuba ...x