All Harry has are stories to replace a father's arms and a mother's kiss, stories of courage and kindness and loyalty and love. But before Harry, Lily Evans and James Potter were two ordinary kids in a magical school. Before Voldemort made them famous, they were two teenagers trying to figure out what sort of adult they wanted to be. Before they became legend, they were just two kids fighting and falling in love.
Apparently the correct protocol was to smile and nod and serve tea and biscuits and try not to assassinate any of her sister's friends, so that's what Lily did. Only Petunia noticed that she was fingering her wand, dreamily imagining eleven bright yellow canaries panicking in their living room, and all Petunia could do was shoot her a glare.
What? mouthed Lily.
Don't you dare pull any of your freak stuff.
Lily rolled her eyes back, but she was slightly pleased. It was the first time Petunia had spoken to her since Marlene's owl had left a little present on Petunia's pillow a week ago. It wasn't Lily's fault owls were incontinent.
"Let me see the ring again," squealed Jamie Lane. "It's gorgeous, Petunia!"
"Isn't it?" said Marge smugly. "My brother doesn't skimp on his fiancée."
"Yes, Vernon's doing really well at work," said Petunia, almost simpering. "I'm so proud of him."
Please don't let Petunia get any worse, thought Lily, sending out a silent prayer to any patron saint who happened to be wandering around engagement parties. The whale is ruining her. After they're married he'll squash her in her sleep one night and I'll be short one sister. At least she seems happy.
"Have you started planning the wedding?" asked some girl whose name Lily had already forgotten.
"I've been looking around for dresses already. It has to be perfect. I think the dress is the most important thing, even including the flowers."
"We're running out of biscuits," said Marge to Lily, the first words she'd spoken to Lily all day before turning back to Petunia. "Has Vernon said anything about the honeymoon?"
"Honeymoon!" Lynn Turner leapt up and down. "Somewhere tropical, maybe? The Bahamas, or Maldives?"
Remember, no setting their petticoats on fire … not that they wear petticoats. What about a little smoulder? Maybe Marge, I should make her eyelashes itch ... if she mentions either Vernon's business or her stupid dog one more time, I'm going to …
Screams broke into Lily's benevolent thoughts.
"Lily!" shrieked Petunia. "Get rid of that filthy thing!"
"Oh right!" Lily leapt up. She'd been so busy with the preparations for Petunia's engagement party that she'd completely forgotten it was the same day that Hogwarts sent its annual letter. "Sorry!"
The owl swooped around before making a beeline for Lily. Nearly dropping the teapot in her haste to get magical stuff away from her sister's Muggle friends, Lily made a dash for the kitchen. The owl caught up easily, dropping the letter on her head as their mother was pulling out a batch of biscuits from the oven.
"I forgot," said Lily in response to her mother's reproachful look. "Mum, I just forgot, all right? Petunia's been talking at me for a week, reminding me without ever actually speaking to me about how she wants her tea settings and how many types of biscuits and all that stuff!"
"Maybe she should have said something about owls being banned from her party," said her mother, shaking her head.
"… on earth was that? And was it carrying a letter?" came Jamie's dulcet tones.
"It's my sister's … pet owl," said Petunia feebly. "She … she trains it to bring her stuff. It's weird."
"It's very weird," said Marge. "But you can't help who you're related to."
"No you can't," muttered Lily.
"How much are the books this year, Lils?"
"It doesn't say, it never says." Lily riffled through the letter. Surely it'd be here …
"Something fell out." Anna pointed.
Lily froze. "Where?"
"Just by your foot."
Lily took one look and leapt into the air. "I got it!"
"Got what?" Anna came over and picked it up. "What's this – Head Girl? Oh Lily, you're Head Girl? I'm so proud of you!"
"I am, I am!" Lily flung her arms around her mum. "I've been wanting this for years, I'm Head Girl!"
"What's going on?" said her dad, coming in.
"Lily's Head Girl!"
"Mum, could you please keep it down in here?" said Petunia from the doorway.
"Your sister just got excellent news!" Anna beckoned her over, pulling Petunia into a hug. "Aren't you proud of her?"
"Tuney, I'm Head Girl!" yelled Lily. "I did it, I'm Head Girl!"
"Really?"
"Yes, look!" Lily waved her badge at her.
"Congrats," said Petunia a little stiffly. "Can you celebrate later? You're ruining my party."
"Right, sorry." Petunia's reaction took the shine off a little, but Lily was used to that.
"Thanks."
"Don't be such a wet blanket, Tuney my tulip," said Peter, pulling her into the group hug. "You should be happy for your sister."
"Dad, you're messing my hair!"
"Oops, sorry."
Petunia extricated herself. "Just keep it down."
"Sweetheart, would a few minutes kill you? Let's break out the champagne."
"That's great, Mum, but I'm having a party, remember?" said Petunia, smiling through tightly compressed lips.
"And here's the letter from Dumbledore," said Lily gleefully, dropping the booklist on the floor.
"Let me see it," said Anna, practically snatching it from her. "There, that's your name. Lily Evans, right there! Hardworking, dedicated, good rapport with your peers – Lily, honey! And it says … Lily, isn't James Potter the boy you've been complaining about for the past six years?"
That name was about the only thing that could pierce through her euphoria. Lily froze in the middle of hugging her father and jumping up and down. "What did you say?" she said cautiously.
"It says the Head Boy is James Potter." Her mother held it out. "There."
Numbly, Lily took the letter. The words sprang out at her. Your partner will be James Potter, who has been chosen to be Head Boy. Despite certain personal issues, I hope that both of you will be able to put them aside to work with each other and do the best you can for Hogwarts. I have faith that …
Your partner will be James Potter, who has been chosen to be Head Boy.
Your partner will be James Potter.
James Potter.
Potter.
"Excuse me," said Lily politely. She went upstairs to her room, closed the door, and picked up her pillow. Then she screamed into it.
In the living room, Petunia's friends stared up the staircase in the direction the muffled sounds were coming from. Then they turned back to her.
"Sorry," said Petunia weakly. "She's a nutcase."
After the party was over, her mother came up. "How's my baby girl doing?"
"Mum," Lily groaned. "This is what I've wanted for years but why does it have to come with strings attached? Why!"
"Yes, okay, now stop thinking about yourself. Go make nice with Petunia."
Lily tossed her pillow in the air and kept it hovering with her wand. "What's got her goat now?"
"Maybe it's because your owl interrupted her party. You know how much her party means to her. And she's worried that someone will think we're an abnormal family."
"She's not so much worried as she is paranoid."
"Whatever it is, you need to respect her feelings."
"She doesn't respect mine."
"March, Lily Margaret."
Lily let the pillow drop and marched.
"Hey," she said.
Petunia ignored her, drying the tea set and neatly putting them away.
"Tuney, I'm sorry, okay? I forgot the owl was supposed to come today, I should have made sure it went straight to my room but I was worried about place settings and napkins. For your party! It's because I was trying to make sure your party went well –"
"It's not about the owl, okay?" snapped Petunia, wheeling around. "Just leave me alone."
"Petunia, come on. Please. I'm going to be leaving soon, and you're getting married – I don't want us to be like this for the rest of our lives. We're sisters."
"Go away, freak."
Lily promptly lost her temper. "Stop calling me freak!"
"Then stop acting like one!"
"Why are you always throwing your temper? It was one minute, one minute, Petunia! The rest of the time your party was just fine, everyone swooned over your stupid ring –"
"It's not about the owl, Lily!"
"Then what? Tell me, because I'm apparently too dumb to understand!"
"You stole my limelight!"
Lily blinked. "What?"
"Today was my big day," said Petunia, and Lily suddenly realised that her older sister was close to tears. "It's my engagement party. And in the middle of it I go to the kitchen, and Mum and Dad are celebrating the fact that you're Head Girl. And they're so awfully proud of you."
"Tuney," said Lily. "I – they're proud of you too –"
"Really?" said Petunia. "Ever since that old man showed up at our door to explain what Hogwarts was, it's always been Lily this, Lily that in this house. Well guess what? I'm going to have my own house now, my own home, and there won't be any Lily in it!"
Lily felt like she'd been slapped. "Don't say that," she whispered. "Tuney, please. Don't – don't say that. Mum and Dad love you too, they're so proud and happy that you've found Vernon –"
Petunia laughed, brittle, the sheen of tears gone. "Don't do that, Lily. You make me sick. I've heard you making fun of Vernon behind my back, talking to Mum. And she laughed too because you made it sound so funny. You've always been the witty one, the smart one, and I've done nothing but get engaged. But you know what? You can crack all your funny, funny jokes about Vernon, but I love him. I love him, Lily. Because he loves me. And sometimes it feels like he's the only one in the world who does."
"That's not true."
Petunia dropped the dishcloth on the counter. "Whatever you say, Lily. You're the smart one, you must be right."
"Tuney," said Lily.
Her sister looked at her for a long moment. Her face worked like she was going to cry, but she walked out.
Lily stared after her, tears running down her cheeks.
preview of next chapter:
"Why not?" demanded James in a bewildering change of attitude. "I haven't been that bad. Not since sixth year, at least."
"Gideon Prewett…" said Sirius in a sing-song voice.
"At least not in the last half of it."
"Stephanie Suuuuummers…"
"Okay, not in the last three months–"
"Fliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitwick…"
"Not in the last fortnight, then!" said James in desperation.
"Frank Longbottooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-"
James threw his plate at Sirius, who ducked. "You did that!"
"You thought of it!"
"You did it!"
"It's the thought that counts," said Sirius, maddeningly philosophical.
