A/N All Characters belong to JK Rowling. This is just for fun to get this story out of my head. I has literally been keeping me up at night. Maybe we will get lucky and she will write a prequel someday.
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Ch. 1: Gloom of the Storm
Lily awoke to wailing wind and torrential rain pouring on her window. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the dim light in her small, ordinary bedroom in Cokeworth. As she became more alert to her environment, she shivered from chill in her room. Wearily, she thought to herself, This storm is relentless… 12 bloody days. Enough is enough. She climbed from her bed, found a warm sweater from her closet. It was ugly, brown, unflattering and dull but it was also warm and soft. She pulled it over her head. She took off her pajama bottoms and stepped into a hand-me-down pair of jeans with a large rip in the right knee. She then walked to the lamp sitting on a small desk in the corner of the room. She tried to turn it on, but nothing happened. She walked back to her twin sized bed and attempted to turn on the bedside lamp. Clicking, but still no light. Lily quickly appreciated that there was a power outage. She caught glimpse of her wristwatch. It was 9:13 in the morning. The storm had become so severe, the sunlight was nearly completely blocked out; not that Cokeworth was particularly sunny anyway. Lily thought of the weather forecast she heard the previous day, they were predicting hurricane force winds. Lily said a quick prayer willing it to not actually become one. So strange, she thought, these storms in the middle of July. An image of the daily prophet headline "A DARK WIZARD RISES" came to mind and she darkly remarked to herself aloud, "Maybe not so strange."
Lily stretched and started toward the door. She roughly combed her hair with her fingers while she made her way down the short distance of the hallway, down the stairs and into the small kitchen where she found her mother lighting the gas stovetop to make tea. Daralea Evans looked up and smiled brightly at her youngest daughter. Lily was nearly the carbon copy of her mother. They shared the same bright green eyes, rose mouth, delicate nose, fair peach skin lightly dusted in freckles, and red hair. Albeit, her mother's hair was curlier and a slightly darker auburn than Lily's deep wavy red.
"Morning, Mum"
"Good morning, sweetheart. Daddy left early this morning, this storm took out a powerline a little after one in the morning." Although Daralea had been living in England since she married her husband more than two decades ago, she still held decidedly onto her Irish accent.
Lily frowned slightly. Her father had worked at the power company for over twenty years. He started on the factory floor right out of secondary school when he was 17 years old. Iain Evans was a hardworking man. Over the years, he worked his way into more responsibility and dedicated his time increasingly to his work. Lily noted the toll it took on him when he picked her up at King's Cross after the completion of her 5th year at Hogwarts. Her Father, previously golden-blonde with a few stray gray hairs and soft blue eyes framed with fine crow's feet had gone completely gray and obtained deep wrinkles on his forehead, corners of his eyes, and on his cheeks during her fifth year alone. Lily was shocked by how he aged and developed a growing anxiety about her father's health.
Daralea eyed her daughter's worried frown and said, "He'll be alright. I'm sure it will be cleared in no time and he'll be home in time for dinner." Daralea gathered teacups, pulled out some scones that she and Lily had made the previous morning, and set them on the table. Changing the subject, she started, "I talked to your sister on the phone yesterday, before the lines when out. She's enjoying her typing school and her flat is fully settled. She has actually been offered a secretary position at a drill company after she completes her last typing class. She's very excited and she sounded happy. Daddy and I were thinking at the end of the month, we would take a drive out to see her."
Prior to Lily returning home, Petunia had graduated from secondary school and promptly moved to London. This was the first summer Lily had not seen or spoken to her sister at all.
Lily nodded, "That could be nice." She suddenly felt tense about the prospect of seeing her sister. "Mum, do you think…" she was cut off by the scream of the teakettle. Her mother busied herself at the stove. She sat down at the table across from her daughter, placing the brewing teapot and cups in front of them.
Carefully, her mother said, "I know you and your sister have a difficult relationship. I know you are very different, Lord only knows how different the two of you are, but you are still sisters and you love each other. I'm asking BOTH of you to try to get along."
Lily knew her mother was digging in for a long lecture that would make her feel increasingly guilty as each minute dragged on. Thankfully, her mother was interrupted by a sharp rapping on the door.
Lily answered to a 13-year-old Johnny Taylor who stood before her soaking wet and shivering. Lily pulled him into the house quickly.
"Er… Hi Lily! I umm… Is your mum home?" He issued urgently. As an afterthought he asked, "Having a good summer? It's so good to see you." The boy being a few years younger than Lily had always been slightly taken with her. Before she could respond, Daralea peered out of the kitchen.
"Johnny! Has your mother's labor started?" Her mother said in a tone that was possibly sharper than she meant for it to be.
"Yes Ma'am. Her waters broke about 20 minutes ago, we tried to call, but couldn't get through. So…. I… Um. I ran here to get you."
"Good boy. Run back home. I'll be there in a few minutes. Then I want you to run out and get your father once I get there. Do you think you can do that?" The boy nodded. She then turned to her daughter. "I'm sorry, dear. I must go. I should be back this afternoon if this birth is anything like the last three."
Her mother rushed upstairs and changed into her midwife's uniform and then was out the door, and disappeared on bicycle into the storm that raged outside.
Lily went back into the kitchen. She cleared her mother's forgotten tea and the scones from the table. She took her own tea, and then made her way back up to her dark bedroom. For a few moments, Lily peered out her window. It was difficult to see the brick buildings that lined the cobble street she lived on. She thought for a moment that this summer was becoming a very lonely and boring one. Normally, she had Severus to keep her company. If not him, she at least had Petunia to distract her from the dull and bleak city of Cokeworth. Although, if she was honest with herself, she wasn't too disappointed by her sister's absence.
Lily lit a candle and looked over some of the letters she received from her friends at Hogwarts. She received several from her roommates Marlene McKinnon, Emmeline Vance, and Dorcas Meadowes. She smiled fondly and missed their constant, good-natured bickering. Her favorite letter, she received was from Alice Fortescue. Alice graduated from Hogwarts at the end of term. Lily of course had known her throughout her Hogwarts career, but the two became close friends due to the prefect duties they shared last term. Lily spent a lot of time during the past year assisting Alice with her head girl duties. Lily smiled at her letter from Alice. She had a strong respect for her friend. Alice was a brilliant witch. In her letter, she detailed how she was pleased with her N.E.W.T results. She had received four outstanding and one exceeds expectations. However, that wasn't what Alice was most pleased about in her letter. Alice had started her Auror training immediately after the end of the school year. In doing so, she "reconnected" with Frank Longbottom, a fellow Gryffindor and head boy during Lily's third year. Lily could tell by her writing that Alice was smitten. She smiled at the words on the parchment. Lily had a strong suspicion that Frank was also little enamored with her kind-hearted friend.
Lily fumbled with the letters when she noticed one she had forgotten about. It was from James Potter. In it, was messy handwriting and a non-apology from James for the events that transpired between James, Severus and herself. When she received it, she practically shooed his owl out the window, as the poor thing appeared to be waiting for a reply. She adamantly refused and the owl flew away. That was over two weeks ago.
As she examined the untidy, small script for a second time, her heart skipped a beat. How could she have forgotten? The memory of her, Potter and Severus surfaced in her mind and she felt a flash of anger. She wanted to be angry with only Potter, but she knew she wasn't. Okay, she was a little. He was such a stupid idiot sometimes. She wanted to be angry with Severus, but she only felt heart broken. A second memory rushed before her eyes.
"Does it make a difference, being muggle-born?"
She waited a beat. He hesitated. He definitely hesitated. She was melting into apprehension.
"No," he said. "It doesn't make a difference."
She sat in her bedroom thinking about the conversation the two had, so many years ago. She felt tears gathering and a tightness in her throat. It doesn't make a difference. But it did. She knew it did, at least it did to him and many other dangerous witches and wizards. And his stupid, dark magic obsessed friends. It mattered to them.
She thought about the way he would look at her. She usually thought it was sweet. They were great friends. But there were times when his gaze unnerved her; Times when she saw greed and want in his eyes. She remembered the time he snapped the branch over Petunia and it came crash down injuring her shoulder. Lily cursed herself. How could she not have seen it? He always had a distain for muggles. She knew it and she knew why… but her sister was innocent. Her anger bubbled at she knew it was with herself. She took in a breath and thought darkly, How did I not see him? She refused to cry for Severus. He made his choice and it wasn't her.
Greif was building inside her. She shook her head violently, then sighed and forcefully threw Potter's half-hearted attempt of an apology down on the pile of notes and letters. And blew out the pathetic candle. She walked over to her school trunk and pulled out her Transfiguration textbook. She had a long reading list and homework to do over the summer; Professor McGonagall assigned a ludicrous amount.
She took her work downstairs to the sitting room and lit a fire for warmth and light. She worked the remainder of the morning when suddenly the lights flickered on in the kitchen. Lily clicked the lamp on the side table. The power was back. Lily sighed, relieved. She retrieved a glass of water from the kitchen and continued to work for several more hours, diligently writing answers and taking beautiful notes on the material she was given to study.
At about 4:50, Lily felt the pains of hunger. She realized she had skipped lunch and had nothing more than a scone with tea for breakfast. She walked into the kitchen poured herself a glass of water and bit into an apple. She heard a clattering outside the kitchen window; she glanced out and saw marble-sized hail clamoring down. Groaning, Lily ate her apple then noticed sour dough her mother must have been working on this morning before she left in a hurry. Lily took the dough and formed it into a loaf. She went to the pantry and fridge and pulled out the ingredients to make a beef stew.
As she made dinner for her mother and father, she could not help but wonder about the similarities between cooking and making potions. Both required a certain amount of skill, intuition, and science. She supposed that her thoughts were naive. The clanging of the telephone ringing interrupted her thoughts. Lily walked to the wall and answered.
"Evans Residence."
"Oh good! The phone lines are working!"
"Hey Daddy! Are you on your way home soon?"
"No. The power is out on the other side of town now. Hopefully it will be an easy fix, but I'm afraid I will be late."
"Are you at the factory? I can bring some dinner over in a few minutes."
"Lily, you don't have to. Is your mother home?" As he asked this the front door swung open and her mother walked in dripping on the floor.
"Ugh she just walked in. Mum, it's Daddy."
Smiling, Daralea took the phone in her hand.
Lily whispered to her mother, "I can bring him a quick dinner." And went about packing the stew in a large thermos and wrapping some warm bread in a kitchen towel and placing in a tin lunch box. After a brief, good-natured argument on the phone, Daralea won out.
"Nonsense, you need to eat. Lily is on her way and will have it to you in a few minutes. I'll see you tonight. I love you." Then she hung up.
Lily smiled at her mother and pulled on her coat and hat.
"Thank you Lily. I'm going to take a shower and we'll eat when you get back."
"Okay. And then you can fill me in on who Mrs. Taylor and her new…"
"Healthy baby boy!"
"Love you, Mum." She kissed her mother quickly on cheek, pulled the dinner in a backpack and headed out the door. She jumped on her bicycle and peddled away from the house with the rain flooding in her face.
Daralea Evans walked up to the bathroom she shared with her husband, showered and changed into warm clothes. As she walked down to the kitchen, she caught the delicious smell of stew and was grateful for her thoughtful daughter. She set the table and waited for her daughter to return. She watched the stew simmer on the stove.
After a few minutes, she heard a tentative knocking on the front door. Praying it wasn't because of another woman in labor, Daralea opened the door to a black-haired teenage boy with lopsided glasses.
Through chattering teeth he said, "Mrs. Evans? Your daughter isn't Lily is she?"
Uncertainly, Daralea replied "Yes?"
The boy obviously relieved, "Finally. Do you know how many Evans' there are in Cokeworth? …Umm… Anyway… I'm James Potter and it is very important that I speak with Lily. Is she home?"
"James Potter? She has mentioned you" taking note of his visible wince she continued, "It's not all bad. You received mixed reviews. Come in, James."
