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Petunia Evans woke up in Buttercup House to the feeling of her magic coursing through her as it was meant to. Her face felt odd after all the tears she had shed the night before, her emotions at the Blood-Adoption overflowing.
She never thought she would have the opportunity to be healed, to live as the witch she was. Petunia had been born four months early, after her parents were in a car accident. Her magic had worked so hard to keep her alive that its development had been permanently stunted. She had never received a Hogwarts letter as a result, for the Founders had charmed the Student Rolls to only send letters to those who could use their magic. Traumatic events in their time caused many people to be unsuited to the environment of Hogwarts, even if they could still use their magic, and the Founders had sought to leave those wounds to rest.
Petunia hadn’t even realised she was magical until she went to Diagon Alley with Lily and could see through the wards without assistance. She and Lily had searched through countless books on healing before they had realised what must have happened. Petunia could still remember the feeling she had after realising, the way it felt like she had slammed into a wall while she recalled every time her parents had called her a miracle baby.
And then Lily had left. Lily had gotten the chance to be Sponsored, had disappeared for most of the year to attend Hogwarts while Petunia was locked out of her rightful world. Petunia had fallen apart when Lily left, the only sister left for their parents to brag about, to be put on display for the community to see. Lily had told her the first Winter Break that Blood-Adoption would cure her, and she had practically exploded. She had shouted at Lily, screaming that Lily no longer wanted her as a sister, that she was ashamed of Petunia’s condition. She had regretted it immediately, but it had been too late. Lily never brought it up again.
And so Lily slipped away, coming back every break unmistakably changed. Her hair ever longer, pulled up into increasingly skilled updos. Her mannerisms had slowly transitioned from those of a rambunctious child to those of a proper, graceful, and self-assured young lady. Petunia watched as Lily became more and more despondent with every stay in the muggle world, knowing that she was losing her sister. When Lily had told them that she had been recognized as a New Blood, Petunia had felt her heart stop. Though written resources about the actual process were scarce, Petunia had managed to find the Vows New Bloods had to make, and she had been certain that after Vowing to never forsake Avalon for the muggle world Lily would cease coming home at all.
And then she told Lily that and Lily was shocked. Proclaimed that she had no intention of leaving Petunia behind, had offered to Blood-Adopt her. And Petunia had said yes, had been brought to Buttercup House, Lily’s gift from the Vigilant and Most Ancient House of Malfoy after she had been recognized. She had been Blood-Adopted, had felt her magic unfurl from where it had been knotted up.
She had a chance now, a chance to become a New Blood herself like she had prayed to Mother Magic for every day since she discovered the truth. Petunia swore to herself that she would not waste it.