Chapter 2
She drove to her parent's house to stay until she found her own place only to find it empty. The next neighbor informed her of the car accident that had claimed their lives. It seemed the funeral had been several months ago, and no one had thought to inform her. The grief was easier to bear for a time in the house that still felt like home when she walked through the front door. The letter forwarded to her parent's address advised her that her parents had left half the house to her, the rest of their possessions they left to Lily, who they had not been able to contact. Petunia was naturally upset but there was a resigned part of her that was not surprised, and indeed the pain it may have inflicted in another world was dulled by the lack of expectations she had from her family. She moved into the house as she decided what to do next.
The house didn’t feel as happy as she remembered but it didn’t feel empty either. It didn't take long for her to start renovating her childhood home. There was a surprisingly large amount of things in the small two-bedroom house. The old school trunk of Lily’s sat unopened in the middle of their childhood room until she decided she was in fact curious enough to warrant opening it. Seven years' worth of school books, notes, and assignments were shoved into the trunk that definitely was bigger on the inside.
Petunia had always absorbed information like a sponge, it just sometimes took her a while to sort it all out and make sense of it. She learned about magic from the texts, and a few extra books her sister must have been given or bought to supplement her education. She was rather fascinated by several of the concepts, especially Arithmancy, Runes, and Potions. She had always known Lily was special, had even known what had made her special was magic long before the Hogwarts professor came. That small black-haired boy had told Lily it that day in the park. She wonders sometimes what would have happened if she had been nicer to the two of them, if she would have been included in their games.
She may often wonder but she always shakes it off, it is not like she could change the past. Whenever she got too melancholy she would start a new project in the house, she started to knock down a wall when she felt the house go still. Placing the sledgehammer down the house warmed up quickly. She tested it multiple times, if she was lifting the hammer with intent to break the wall the house went cold and silent. If she lifted it intending to just move it nothing changed. She became aware of the house in a whole new way. Her renovations continued but at a slower pace as she experimented with the various feelings the house seemed to have. Now that she was aware of it, she could tell that the gray she had painted the kitchen made it feel dull. It took several coats of paint until she found one that made the room feel alive and happy, a pale pastel green. By the time she had completed the house, she felt like she was ready for a new challenge.
She kept the house, not willing to sell it, and give half the proceeds to a sister who she had not seen in years and who had done nothing to help. She did rent it out though, even making a profit after a couple of years. The next house she bought she intended to fix it up and sell it. It was a small house, owned by an aging couple who had lost their only child a few years ago. She had looked at several houses that she could think of ways to renovate and turn a profit. This was the one that felt the most not empty. She still could put a finger on what it was, she just knew that some houses like the one she grew up in felt almost alive, and others, mostly new ones did not.
The house was smaller than her parents' and took less time and money, she knew what to look for when making decisions now. She felt the almost sorrow of some of the rooms and while it took a while she found changes that made it feel more content if not happy. She sold it for much more than she spent and started looking for her next project.