Rose

My name is Petunia, and—
No, wait, that’s not the way I should start this story.
It would be easy to start a story like that, but this is not my story...

Her name was Rose.
But it’s not that simple...

Her name was Rose Evans. And she was my sister.
Yes, that’s right. Nice and simple. And yet...
But I must start from the beginning.

Rose was nine when it happened, when The Letter came. The letter that changed our lives forever.
I was thirteen, the oldest. Lily was eleven, the middle daughter, and Rose was the baby of the family.
The Letter, of course, was for Lily.
At least, that letter was.
The other letter came two years later, for Rose.
But two years...I’m jumping ahead too far...

When Lily got the letter, she was ecstatic. Mom and Dad were happy. I knew it would bring trouble.
Wizards and magic and superstition. I knew, even then, that it would ruin us.
And it did.
The first two years weren’t so bad. Lily was learning magic, but she couldn’t do it at home much, except for little things for homework.
And then, that summer, when I was fifteen, two letters came.
And Rose left for Hogwarts.

It was in her third year that she met Peter. Sweet Peter. He adored her from the beginning.
And so they dated. I thought she was a bit young to date, only thirteen, but Peter seemed the perfect match for her. He was rather timid and shy around girls, which matched Rose’s innocence.
I still remember her telling me about their first kiss—Under the moonlight by the lake, the last day before winter break.
And then, fourth year, Rose met James.
James Potter was the sort that broke hearts left and right and didn’t even seem to notice it. He was a sixth year Prefect, a shoe-in for Head Boy, Quidditch captain for the Gryffindor team, which had won the last four Cups, dashing and handsome, fabulously rich, and the most sought-after boy in school.
He was a snob through and through.
I’m not sure if he actually noticed Rose. Noticed her in such a way that he would actually know the person Rose, not the reputation.
Rose wasn’t what you would call beautiful, but she had a sweet face, and everyone said she was pretty. Or maybe that was just her personality radiating out. She was the sweetest, nicest person that ever lived.
I don’t think James ever loved her, but he maybe he did like her. Or maybe he just wanted to look good, dating one of the most liked girls in school. Or maybe he just wanted to take advantage of her innocence. Either way, he dated her longer than any other girl in the school.
Three months, six days.

And then James met Lily.
Lily was the complete opposite of Rose. She was smart, cunning, and ambitious. And drop-dead gorgeous. She was brilliant, and devoted her time to her studies. She was rather like James, I think, except while he thrived in popularity, she mastered every spell and read every book.
I don’t know if she meant to be so cruel, but she was. Everywhere she turned, boys and men alike would follow. Dozens of couples must have been broken up because of her. Every boy she so much as looked at immediately broke off any relationship they had and chased after her.
She turned them all down.
She didn’t date a single guy in those first six years.
No, she waited, and watched.
And she picked James.
I don’t know how she could have done that, go after her sister’s love.
James, of course, knew Lily, but he always thought of her as untouchable. The aloft, sophisticated beauty who needed no man.
And then Lily asked James out.
Rose became insanely jealous of Lily and tried to break them up numerous times. She was desperate, I think. She really truly believed James loved her.
We all worried about her, so she went back to Peter and put on a pretense of happiness. But I knew she still loved James, and was plotting to get him back.
I don’t know if Peter knew. I don’t think he did. But he did love her.
And then...

It was in her seventh year.
James married Lily, and broke Rose’s heart.
Rose killed herself two days later.
I don’t think he meant to do that. Men like James don’t think like that. They don’t believe bad things can come from good intentions, but they do.
And he did.
And Rose died, two weeks before graduation.
And Peter... I think he really loved Rose. I really do. I think Rose’s suicide drove him to insanity.
Or maybe just hate.
He hated James. It wasn’t anything he said or did, just the look in his eyes.
Betrayed.
That’s how he looked, like a man who had been betrayed by his best friend.
And in a way, he was.
James killed the woman he loved.

Sometimes, I think that perhaps if James had not married Lily, had he married someone else, or even if he had married her later, none of this would have happened.
I saw what Peter threw in the coffin.
It was a ring. A diamond engagement ring.
It could have been different.
Rose could have learned to love Peter, and she would have eventually forgotten James.
But Rose was betrayed by her sister.
And Peter was betrayed by his friend.
And they’re all dead now.

But sometimes I wonder.
I wonder, if perhaps, Peter got his revenge.
I know how Lily died.
I know they were betrayed.
They said it was Sirius Black, that he was the one who killed Peter.
But every once in a while, in the back of my mind, I still think, and wonder, if maybe, just maybe, the betrayed became the betrayer.













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