Lily wanted a fireplace. Petunia stared at her sister, not sure if she should be disgusted or simply astonished. Silence settled over the Evan's family living room, the aroma of sugar and tea wafting through the afternoon air but failing to soothe the atmosphere. Gregory Evans, the father of the two girls, was looking at his wife, leaving this up to her.
Lily didn't notice the shock her announcement had left. "That way, Alice can come visit me whenever she wants. And Edgar told me that every wizard is connected to the floo network, because it makes everything so much easier. We wouldn't have to drive all the way to London with the car if we had a fireplace."
Carol Evans smoothed a strand of hair away from her pale face. "Honey, that sounds like it would be very convenient, but it's not that easy to install a fireplace, especially when there isn't one in the original layout of the house ..."
Lily blinked, obviously surprised. "There's no way?"
Their dad grimaced and quickly stuffed a piece of cake into his mouth.
Petunia stared at her mother, waiting for her to explain to her spoiled daughter that she wouldn't always get what she wants.
Instead their mother folded while looking into Lily's pleading, green eyes. "Let me ask around, get more information. I don't know that much about fireplaces, to be fair. Maybe there's an easier way to build one. Maybe we won't even need professionals but your dad and his friends can give it a try?"
Petunia scowled and watched as a smile blossomed upon Lily's face. A bit of cream was on the corner of her lip but instead of untidy it just made her look adorable. Her mother seemed to think the same because she smiled back and carefully wiped the cream away with her thumb. "You're twelve already, a little lady. How come you're still such a messy eater?"
Lily laughed happily, the bell-like sound tinkling through the air. It grated on Petunia's nerves like nails on chalkboard and she spoke before she could stop herself: "Lily, aren't you wondering why Mum is suddenly working again?"
The laughter tampered off and Lily looked confused. Before she could ask, their mother cut in: "I just wanted to get out of the house a bit. It's so empty now, with both of you girls in school. And this way I can see your dad at work."
Petunia fought down the impulse to throw her small cake-fork in frustration. It was obviously because her parents felt they might not have enough money to support their magical daughter, the same magical daughter that had just casually asked them to install a fireplace for her convenience!
Looking at the Victoria sponge cake in the middle of the table, Petunia tried to calm herself. This was supposed to be Lily's belated birthday party, celebrating her as soon as she had stepped through the door. Lily's actual birthday had been back in January, when she'd still been at Hogwarts, which meant all the presents and love her parents had built up since then were now showered upon her.
But Petunia wasn't in the mood for celebration. She was stressed and unhappy and Lily's presence just made everything worse. She hadn't accompanied her mother to King's Cross to pick her up this time, deciding to stay at home and away from all things magical and unnatural. But regret began eating away at her insides like a hungry swarm of ants as soon as her Mum's car had left the driveway. And now Lily was here, and Petunia had missed a chance to see Eugene, however small, and then she felt stupid for being so hung up over it. She had made the right choice, staying away. It would have just made all of her feelings worse if she actually saw him.
Not that they have exactly gotten better anyway, a traitorous voice whispered in her mind. No matter what Petunia promised herself, she still replied to every one of his letters and she still caught herself thinking about golden hair and too-broad smiles once her mind started to wander.
"I promise I'll come home for every holiday, Mum," Lily claimed. "It won't be empty then."
"That sounds nice," her mother said and her father chuckled good-naturedly.
Petunia silently stabbed her cake until it turned into a crumbling mess. Was she air? Was the house 'empty' even though Petunia was here every day, cooking her own meals in a silent kitchen?
Sometimes she wondered if anyone would even miss her if she'd just disappeared.
For a few seconds she felt just like the mistreated cake on her plate. Small and crumbling and unsightly. And then an image flashed through her mind, an image of black wings catching the sunlight.
Aspen. Aspen would miss her, he would miss having someone to accompany him on his runs, to compliment him on his bird-catching successes and scold him for accidentally ripping holes into clothes when the fabric caught on his protruding teeth.
Following impulse, Petunia scraped the tins of her small fork across her tongue. They hurt slightly but tasted sweet all the same.
And maybe there was someone else who would at least wonder if she suddenly stopped replying.
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