A Flower Never Shatters
Disclaimer: I'm only doing this once. I do not own Harry Potter. I don't even understand disclaimers. . what's the point?
Summary: Lily and James' story of growing up with their beginning friendship to their rivalry with each other, then back to their story of love. This story starts from their first year of Hogwarts to their marriage cause I can't bear to write unhappy endings. . .
If you ever find me using fanfiction terms such as chappie or cliffie, find me and slap me. I just. . .don't like those words; they sound so obnoxious. Otherwise, please enjoy. I wasn't even going to post this story, it was something I wrote for fun and I just felt spontaneous today, so I posted it.
PART I
Chapter One: Birthdays and Hogwarts Letters
Lily
In the Evans' household on May 15, everybody was celebrating Lily's 11th birthday. Lily Evans was not just a mere little redhead; she was special, and not because of her striking looks, but because sweet and fiery Lily Evans was a witch. Of course, she didn't know that. She hadn't the faintest idea that witches and wizards actually existed. She was, however, extremely pretty with her noticeable bright green eyes, creamy coloured skin, a very physically fit shaped body, with gorgeous red hair cascading to the middle of her back to match.
Around the rather large house that the Evans' lived in, with banners hanging everywhere saying, 'Happy Birthday, Lily,' or 'We love you Lily!' and even, 'You are the best sister anyone could have asked for,' laughter ringing all round the house could be traced to the living room, where Lily was eagerly tearing open her presents.
"Oh, I love the digital camera Aunt Rose sent me! I've always wanted one!" Lily cried happily. She set it down carefully next to the growing mountain of presents including two picture frames, a new computer game, a Limited Edition of a Beanie Baby, six books, a new sweatshirt, a fancy, beautiful white dress, 4 different gift cards, envelopes with loads of money in them, and the Box Set Edition of all three Lord of the Rings extended versions. The last present was from Petunia, who was telling her to open it excitedly. Ripping off the wrapping paper, she saw that it was a jewelry box. "It's a jewelry box. . . right?" Somehow, it looked familiar. . . . .Petunia shook her head, smiling.
"Remember Anastasia?" She began to sing softly,
"Someone holds me safe and warm,
Horses prance through silver storm,
Figures dancing gracefully. . . ."
Lily remembered. She and Petunia used to watch it all the time together.
"I love it. That's so thoughtful of you!" Lily said softly.
Her mum interrupted. "Now, you're probably wondering where the key is."
"We're giving it to you on Christmas," her dad smoothly cut in. "It just makes it all the more suspenseful." Lily opened her mouth to protest, but her dad continued on with the corners of his warm brown eyes crinkling into a smile, I mean, it's not like we're all gonna die or something." Lily rolled her eyes good-naturedly and gave in, and turned to Petunia to give her a big hug.
"Thanks, Petunia," she whispered into her ear.
Petunia returned the hug and whispered back, "Anytime, Lils," calling her the nickname she'd created years ago.
Lily's parents, Kathleen and Rob, watched their two daughters contentedly, thinking that their relationship would always last.
James
A few days earlier on May 9, at Godric's Hollow, in the Potter Manor, everyone was celebrating James Potter's 11th birthday. James was in the playroom, ripping off the wrapping paper carelessly.
"Melanie! You got me a broomstick cleaning kit! Thank you!" He ran over to hug his sister fiercely. She grinned devilishly, and attacked his sides, tickling. James yelped and scrambled away while his parents, Alanna and John looked sternly towards Melanie, who had a perfectly innocent face on.
"Alright, James, now open up the last present. It's the one Mummy and Daddy gave you." Alanna said with an unreadable expression on her face. His dad smiled gleefully and was about to laugh until his wife elbowed him in the ribs. After that, he had a straight, but rather painful look on his face.
James looked at the gigantic square box in front of him. He stood on his tiptoes, reached on top of the box, and pulled the ribbon free. The box split open, slicing through the air. James just missed it crushing him by leaping back a nanosecond before it would have hit him. He thanked Quidditch for making his reflexes lightning fast. His father and older sister were now convulsing in silent laughter. James mock-glared at them, and approached the second, smaller box warily, narrowing his eyes. Suddenly, he lashed out viciously with his right foot, and his family started in surprise. A small noise went oomph. Ha, so now he knew it was an animal. He relaxed, wondering if they had gotten him a puppy. He hoped it wasn't hurt from him kicking it's current home. Carefully, he undid the ribbon. . . and out leapt a three foot long, two foot wide tarantula. James stood in shock for a second, blood draining rapidly from his face, then, as the spider began to advance towards him, turned and fled, screaming like a little girl. This was one of the rare times James Potter ever ran away from something or screamed like a girl. The remaining three family members burst out laughing. They knew that the only thing James feared were spiders. The spider slid on roller blades as John shouted, "Ridikulous!" and popped.
"Did you see his face?" John choked out.
"I have seriously never, ever seen anyone turn so white so fast," Alanna laughed.
"I'll go look for him," offered Melanie who was trying to stifle her laughter.
James had raced to his room, locked the door and frantically pushed his desk, chair, sofa, armchair, and bed to blockade the door. Relieved, he hopped onto his large windowsill and ran his hand through his unruly jet-black hair, a habit he had picked up last summer. Everyone had always said he was an extremely handsome boy, and girls often gossiped about how cute he was. He had soft, hazel coloured eyes, jet-black hair that was always messy, a fit body from playing Quidditch since the age of three, and being born a natural leader, he had a firm and commanding, yet gentle voice. His keen ears heard the soft pattering of feet on the elegantly designed carpet in the hallway outside his room, and drew back in horror. How had the tarantula managed to know where his room was? James flung open the doors of his cupboard, and snatched his Cleansweep broomstick. Clutching his means of escape, James pushed his large window open, climbed onto the windowsill, and prepared to fly out. Just as he was about to take off, he heard his name being called out in a rather sing-song way.
"Jaaames!" A pounding on the door. "I know you're hiding from the big, bad spider who's going to eat your body then suck out your brains, but Mum and Dad need you downstairs. . ." she waited for a second, "NOW!"
When James heard Melanie's voice from outside his room, he didn't know whether to be immensely relieved it wasn't that- that thing, or to feel quite foolish. He hastily dropped his Cleansweep, kicked it to the corner of his room, and tried to move the furniture back to it's original place as quickly as possible as to not arouse suspicions of him blockading the door. Melanie, however, wasn't fooled. As James opened the door slowly, Melanie flounced in, her vivid eyes the same colour as James'; shiny brown hair tossed around, and looked around the room once.
"Spider scared you that much, huh?"
James put his amazing acting ability to use and looked thoroughly confused. "What are you talking about? Of course not!"
But Melanie was the only person James couldn't trick effortlessly. "Oh, really?" she asked sweetly, her sharp eyes immediately spotting the half-hidden broomstick. "I guess that's why you were going to fly out of the house. Couldn't have been because of the spider, could it?" She looked thoughtful. "No. . .didn't think so. By the way, it was just a boggart. Dad just got rid of it."
James turned the faintest shade of red. He didn't allow himself to get embarrassed that easily. "I wasn't trying to escape the spiders," he replied coolly, "I was just hot and decided to go-"
"Yeah, whatever you say," Melanie interrupted. "But seriously, we have to go downstairs and see what's inside that last box." With that, she clasped his hand and pulled him all the way to the playroom.
As James and Melanie walked in- or rather, as Melanie dragged a frantically-trying-to-escape James, Alanna and John both grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry, just couldn't resist. . .the department had a boggart it was going to get rid of, and I just couldn't help it. . ."
"But you should have seen the look on your face! And anyway. . .we have something that just might make you forgive us." His mum smiled sweetly and gestured towards the last, rectangular present. She was really a beautiful woman with glistening, light brown hair, delicate features, intense brown eyes, and a slim body. She matched her husband's looks, who had the same unruly black hair as James and hazel coloured eyes. Many people said that James was the spitting image of his father.
James studied the box, trying to decide if any other nasty surprises were going to jump out at him. It looked rather like a. . .broomstick? He'd wanted a new broom since last year; he had outgrown the speed of the fast Cleansweep that most boys dreamed of having. He inched towards the present, carefully peeling the paper off, and opened it to reveal a shimmering Nimbus 1000. James' mouth dropped open in shock. This wasn't even available to stores yet and it wouldn't be until in two years! To him, the broomstick was practically glowing. He looked at his father questionably.
"I erm. . .pulled a couple of strings to get that." His father laughed nervously, but when he saw the worried look on his son's face, he quickly assured him, "Don't worry. It's fine. The broom's all ready to go out in stores, but Mr. Goodyear just wants more people to get worked up about it. Greedy bloke."
James sighed happily, "My life is officially complete." He didn't even notice a house-elf, Winkle, come in to clean up the wrapping paper.
"Do you need this cleaned up, Missus?" Winkle squeaked. Alanna had spent a good few months teaching the house-elves to speak properly. Alanna nodded with a kind smile. "Very good, missus." With a snap of her fingers, all the trash in rubbish in the room floated up simultaneously. Winkle marched out of the room with it parading after her.
James was still staring at the broomstick in bliss. Suddenly, he turned and hugged both of his parents. Alanna and John smiled at their joyous son, and shared a smile and a quick kiss. They were glad they had made their only son happy. James had never been a spoilt child, though having been raised in one of the largest and most beautiful houses in the wizarding world. His family, at the last count, was the third wealthiest family in the wizarding world. Despite this, James wasn't a snobby and stuck-up rich kid, and neither was Melanie. Their parents had brought them up to be good-natured, kind, and generous people, though James couldn't help but be cocky sometimes. He was also a big-time prankster. His latest prank was turning everyone's toothbrush into garter snakes. He already knew how to use magic, partly because of his family, and partly because he was a genius, and could read spells from books and immediately put them to use, though his parents magicked all the spell books to prevent James from reading harmful spells.
All of a sudden, an owl hooted from outside the window, and tapped its beak on the glass. Melanie let it fly in and drop two envelopes into her hand, one slightly heavier than the other. "Our Hogwarts letters have arrived!" Melanie exclaimed. She chucked James' letter at him, and he deftly caught it in the air. Melanie tore the envelope open, obviously searching for something, and out fell a shiny badge that said PREFECT. She squealed, though that was without any doubt the thing she was expecting. "Mum, Dad! I'm a 5th year prefect!" James rolled his eyes; everybody knew Melanie would be 5th and 6th year prefect, then Head Girl in the 7th year. As his parents hugged and congratulated Melanie, James gave the owl five Knuts. He opened his own letter and it stated:
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
James was excited to go to Hogwarts; he had heard so much about it from Melanie. He knew all about the teachers, schedules, Quidditch games. . .etc. The only thing he didn't know was how the students got chosen for which Houses. He'd heard about all kinds of terrifying ways: facing a dragon, having to perform a complex spell in front of the whole school, improvise a speech. . .the possibilities were endless, and no matter how persuasive he was (and James Potter is very persuasive,) Melanie would only tell him to wait and see.
Lily
Lily went up to her room to put her presents away. As she was opening her cupboard, he heard a tapping on her window. When she located the source of the noise, her mouth dropped open in shock. "M-Mum. . . Dad. . ." she sputtered out weakly. "I. . umm. . .th-there's . . .I need you to come upstairs right now!" Tap, tap, tap, the beak went on persistently with. . .was that impatience in the owl's eyes?
When Kathleen, Rob, and Petunia rushed into Lily's room, they found her staring at a small brown-and-white owl clutching an envelope in its talons.
"Is. . is that. . an owl?" Rob asked in disbelief. He turned to Lily's still stunned face and asked as though she held all of the answers, "Sweetie, why is there an owl tapping on the window with an envelope in its talons?" Lily shook her head, perplexed. Rob glanced helplessly at Kathleen who wore a look of bewilderment on her face. Petunia, however, had a scowl on her long, horse-like face.
"It's obviously Uncle Mumphrey," she growled with disgust. "He's the only one who's weird enough to send Lily a birthday card by an owl, instead of the regular, normal way." Uncle Mumphrey was the black sheep of the family. He was really quite odd, in a maniacal scientist sort of way. People often thought him crazy, but that was why Lily loved him so much. In turn, Lily was his favorite niece, and he often sent her little trinkets, like a dartboard, his own random inventions, Easy-Bake Oven, funny short stories he had concocted, random facts or quotes on little notes. . .etc. In fact, Lily was everyone's favorite niece or cousin. She was already the most beautiful, witty and smartest girl the family had ever had. Of course, being the perfect person, Lily often gave large parts of her many gifts to Petunia. Petunia was still ranting about how abnormal their odd uncle was. Kathleen and Rob were trying to shush her, but to no avail. Petunia had always had a phobia of anything out of the ordinary. She always shunned people who she thought were abnormal. The closer they were to her before they became "weird," the worse treatment they received. Uncle Mumphrey had been the closest of all so far, and he got the worst treatment. If he called and Petunia picked up the phone, she would reply in a clipped, cut tone; when he visited and asked for a kiss or hug, she refused, crossing both arms over her chest and glaring angrily at him. He soon learned not to ask.
Lily agreed with one thing though, the owl was probably a birthday card from Uncle Mumphrey. She sighed, walked over to the window, and unlatched the lock The bird fluttered into the air, dropped the letter into Lily's hand, and perched on her T.V., eyes gazing at her expectanty. Lily looked down at the letter, eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. It was a thick and heavy yellowish parchment paper envelope. It was addressed to:
Miss Lily Evans
3 Marble Drive
Great Bookham
Surrey
All of it was in elegant writing in emerald green ink. She turned it over, and saw a purple wax sea bearing a coat of arms; a lion, and eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H. Lily was absolutely sure this letter did not come from Uncle Mumphrey.
"Hey. . .stop!" All talking in the room was silenced. Lily felt her cheeks burn as she realized her family was staring at her, waiting for her to speak. She was embarrassed easily. Clearing her throat, she went on, "This isn't from Uncle Mumphrey."
"Well then, open it and see which freak sent you a birthday card by an owl," snapped Petunia testily. She was obviously in a bad mood.
Lily forgave her and carefully opened the letter. She read it aloud to them:
Dear Miss Evans,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. Petunia broke the quietness. "Who's stupid enough to send you a dumb joke like that?" she demanded irritably. Lily didn't speak.
Lily's parents, however, weren't so quick to brush this letter off. "Suppose it's true," Kathleen said slowly, thinking out loud to herself "but. . .witches and wizards? But who would send Lily a prank letter like this, especially on her birthday? And, who could train an owl to deliver a letter right to her room in plain daylight? This letter even looks genuine. I can't think of anyone who would do this. . ."
"I can," Petunia muttered, "some freakazoid who trains owls to deliver messages and stalks Lily! Why can't people just be normal!" Her parents ignored her. John, who had been looking thoughtful, spoke up.
"I think it's a real letter," he said quietly. He turned to his youngest daughter and spoke in that serious, quiet tone again. "Sweetie, I just thought about it, and my instinct tells me to trust it. I-I think you might be a witch."
Those eight words brought Lily out of her reverie. Thoughts raced though her head. I can't be a witch! I-I couldn't be a witch. .could I? No! Of course not. Witches have magic, work spells, and are old hags with warts and cackling voices. I've never done anything close to magic. Except that time when I was three, and I really wanted a cookie when Mummy's back was turned. The cookie floated out of the cookie jar. I had always thought that was a dream. And another time, when my teacher made me stay in for recess, and his hair turned a flickering green. And I thought that was my imagination! Suddenly dozens of memories reeled in her head; events that she couldn't explain the cause of. How had the school bully suddenly gotten a broken nose as he was running after her best friend Krissy, trying to pull her hair? Why did it see like he had run into an invisible wall right before he was going to grab her best friend? How could she explain that when she played hide-and-go-seek and hid in a place where she was semi-visible, the best seekers couldn't find her? It was as thought she were invisible. Their eyes had looked right at her and saw nothing. How did it all happen? Memories swirled inside her head. But there are no witches and wizards, she told herself. But then why did she feel like what she'd just tried to convince herself of was a big, fat lie? Her natural instinct told her that she was a witch. All of her reasoning argued that she wasn't, but she had learned to trust her natural instinct years ago. Little did Lily know that all of the unexplainable events she'd caused were the markings of a truly powerful witch or wizard.
As she stepped out of the raging war going on in her brain, her parents looked at her expectantly. "Mum, Dad," she paused and took a deep breath," I . . . I think I'm a witch too."
"I refuse to believe this," Petunia snapped flatly. She stalked out of the room.
