Why Lily Fell
-By Yo-yo
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I am merely borrowing the characters (and world) to construct my own interpretation of the events that led to Harry's existence.
A/N: This story was originally posted in 2003, about 5 years before the last book was published and released. In my current re-reading of HP5 (my favorite in the series), I began rereading this story and decided to complete it using the more recently released information.
Story Description: In their 6th year at Hogwarts, in 1976, experience the events that led to James and Lily's inevitable relationship. This is my interpretation, I hope you like it. Read and Review please.
Strawberry Lip Smacker:
"Hey Tuny," she called from the sitting room, "have you seen my books?"
"Which ones?" the reply came from the kitchen.
Upturning the tan cushions of the davenport, she called back, "The Standard Book of Spells, volumes 5 and 6?"
Dropping down to her hands and knees, she surveyed the area beneath the couch before deciding it a lost cause. As she pulled herself up, she turned around just in time to see her sister stomping into the room to involuntarily cringe at the mess she'd made.
To anyone who'd laid eyes on her, Petunia Evans was definitely her dad's daughter. She looked just like him: long, skinny and angular. Everything about her, from her chiseled face, to her slightly upturned nose, her dangling limbs, her straight hips and finally her long craning neck, was geometrical. The only thing about her that didn't remind anyone of second year Maths was her short, straight, dark brown hair, feathered back to resemble Kate Jackson's in Charlie's Angels.
In contrast, Lillian Evans was created in her mother's image. They were both built like dancers: medium height, slender and lithe. Her features were softened, her legs long and strong, her height carried her weight well, and her movements were graceful. There were only two features that she didn't share with her mother. One happened to be those famous Evans's eyes: vividly green with small flecks of brown and gold bordering the pupil. The other was her red hair, a dark firebrick red, a trait she shared with her paternal grandmother and no one else.
Although Lillian and Petunia hardly looked alike, they shared some very acute similarities. Both had a light splash of freckles across the bridge of their noses, milky, porcelain skin and were both tall for women. They also shared those green eyes that seemed to pierce whomever they were regarding with an undoing intensity.
When they were younger, their eyes were identical. But as they grew older, their shapes seemed to evolve to reflect their personalities. Lillian's eyes had rounded and widened, an effect of her ever expanding understanding of the world; Petunia's had grown beady, reflecting both a narrowing of her mind and her shrewd curiosity.
"Damn it, Lily," Petunia groaned, shaking her giant helmet of hair from her face, "I thought you were talking about 'Great Expectations' or 'Romeo and Juliet!'"
"Sorry, it's just last night I was studying, and I seem to have misplaced them."
"Typical," Petunia muttered under her breath as she watched her sister unceremoniously replace a cushion.
She watched silently, her frustration simmering, when her sister moved to the La-Z-Boy and stuck her arm deep into the back, feeling for her volumes between the couch and the wall.
"You shouldn't leave that stuff hanging around," she said loud enough for her sister to hear.
"Why? You afraid that dashing young chap, Peter, will see it? Afraid he'll discover that your little sister doesn't actually attend that boarding school in France, but instead, is a witch-in-training?" Lily grinned wickedly at her sister while looking ridiculous in her current position.
Petunia's face grew red in what Lily couldn't decipher as being anger or embarrassment.
"Well, 'Romeo and Juliet' is over-rated anyway," she continued disarmingly, "But if you help me find those books, I'll let you borrow my strawberry Lip Smacker for your date tonight!"
"And you'll clean up this room?" Petunia asked.
That was one of the differences between the sisters. While Tuny was a clean freak, Lily's whole world appeared in disarray. It was amazing how that worked, because Lily was a perfectionist. Her work was always impeccably neat, being known for chucking a whole essay with so much as a smudge in the corner, but for some reason, Lily preferred a mess to surround her. Perhaps, it was for balance.
"What?" Lily frowned, glancing around the room, "This room is fine!"
"It looks as if a cyclone burst through here."
Lily's eyes narrowed mischievously and a smirk curled her lips, "I could conjure one."
"Lily!" Tuny gasped, cringing at the thought.
Another difference between the sisters concerned their feelings on magic. When Lily received the letter the summer of her eleventh year, inviting her to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a rift forged a chasm in their relationship. No longer could Tuny just pretend that her sister was weird. It was now acknowledged and a subject of praise. When Lily returned after her first term, instead of trying to repair their relationship, she unwisely egged on Tuny's aversion and as a result, they suffered many years of bitter bickering. During the last two years, however, they had come to an understanding: Lily would do no magic around Tuny, Tuny would accept Lily, and they both would try not to sabotage their relationship.
"I was joking," Lily smiled good-naturedly. "But really, I'm not cleaning up."
Petunia's eyes narrowed, and a smirk that looked identical to the one Lily had earlier used sculpted her features.
"Well then, I guess I'll have to tell Mum and Da why you really blew up that alarm clock!"
"You wouldn't!" She gasped.
"Oh, I would." She countered, all too sweetly.
"But-"
"Just clean up the mess you've made," Petunia sighed, wishing her little sister wasn't so stubborn.
"Petunia!" Lily whined.
"Lillian!" Tuny mimicked.
"Ok," Lily frowned, realizing this wasn't going anywhere. "But you better be happy that I have nothing better to do on a Friday night."
"Why don't you ask out that boy from the tree?"
"Because," Lily sighed plopping down on the couch, "he's just a friend, plus, he has a thing for a friend of mine."
"Well, why don't you hang out with those friends of yours, from that school?"
Lily rolled her eyes as if stating the obvious, "They don't understand the Underground, and why go through all the trouble if I'm going to see them next week?"
"What about the boy from around the corner?"
"We aren't friends anymore."
"Thank god!"
Lily glared at her sister.
"Petunia, my patience is waning."
Petunia rolled her eyes, "Well do something! It shames me to know that beautiful, smart Lily Evans is sitting by her lonesome on a Friday night. Although it elates Petunia plain and tall who has a date with- what did you call him? Oh, 'that dashing young chap,' Peter Mollohan."
"Oh please, you're not plain and tall," Lily scoffed, standing up to face her sister, "You're simply a tart!" she screeched before dashing up the staircase into her room where she bolted the door.
Falling unceremoniously into her bed, Lily surveyed her room. It was the perfect balance of her two selves, witch and muggle. On her walls hung photos taken by both wizarding and muggle cameras, therefore, some of the photos' subjects moved and others stayed put. On low shelves that bordered two perimeter walls was her book collection. Most were written by muggles: Dickens, Austen, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Twain, even a banned copy of J.D. Salinger's "Catcher in the Rye." Others written by wizards like Mugwomp, Odelay and Crusive. From her ceiling hung a beautiful wicker birdcage where her owl, Noctem, usually slept. A week ago, her closet had been bursting with robes and muggle clothes. Now, her robes were packed away in the large wooden trunk that would be accompanying her back for her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her carpet was littered with schoolbooks, quills and parchment, as well as ink pens, multi-colored spirals and stickers. Her wand, her second wand, in fact, the first had been snapped in half on her birthday when James Potter had kissed her, was eleven and a quarter inches, a whole inch longer than the first, with a unicorn hair tucked inside, and a few sprinklings of fairy-dust. "Perfect for Charm work," Mr. Ollivander whispered when she handed him the appropriate amount of gold coins. Her wand lay on her desk beside her reading glasses, narrow, black plastic frames, seemingly binding her two worlds in the most neutral of settings.
Even in her own home, Lily couldn't help thinking about her friend of the other world. Delia Flynn and Soleil Benoire were her best friends in the school. From the first day that they'd met, they had instantly taken a liking to each other. On the train ride to Hogwarts, the two girls had taken it upon themselves to explain their own insecurities concerning their magical endowments. By the time they'd settled into their separate beds in their shared dormitory, they'd already committed themselves to being lifelong friends. For the past five years they were always together, sharing the same dormitory with Alice Avery and Mildred Quiglesby.
Then, there were her other friends, most intimately known as, The Marauders. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter had made her five years most intriguing. She couldn't count the times Sirius had left her breathless and in stitches from one of his many hilarious escapades. She'd cherished those times Remus would sit beside her in the common room, challenging her political beliefs and forcing the boundaries of her magical capabilities. She admired the way inferior Peter used his cunning to hide his misgivings, ferreting for loopholes in order to escape the uncomfortable situations in which his friend often placed him.
But James Potter was in a different character altogether.
James Potter was a conceited, stubborn, and incorrigible excuse for a wizard. He claimed dominion in the corridors of Hogwarts, embarrassing his peers and reveling in his superior skill. He exploited people's flaws, invigorated by the inferiority of others. He was frustrating and unfortunately for her, the leader of The Marauders, and one of her friends.
Don't get her wrong, when he wanted to be, James could be the dearest of people. On one of those rare moments, when sincerity had escaped his public façade, she found his personality both endearing and noble. Sometimes, he had even been a comfort to her. She could remember a few instances, over the years, when she hadn't thought twice to put her head on his shoulder, and just… be. But then he'd do something expected and Lily would turn away from him, away from that cocky smirk that appeared when he was at his worst.
"Lily, you've still got the sitting room!" Tuny called from downstairs.
"Coming," she sighed, pushing herself from her bed.
Petunia was eyeing her suspiciously as she descended the staircase. For a moment, she didn't say anything. But after weighing her thoughts, she finally offered:
"You know, if you're desperate, you could always call Adrien?"
Lily groaned aloud as she thought about her French tutor. All summer, Mum and Tuny had been trying to set them up. Finally, he asked her out and she had agreed. When she returned from the date, she immediately dashed for her room, never telling her Mum, nor Tuny, what had happened. Needless to say, she and Adrien had not had a second date.
"I'm not calling Adrien," she sighed, rearranging the sofa cushions so they didn't look as if a three-year-old had just decided to play rocket ship on them.
"Why not?" she asked, curiosity burning in those beady green eyes.
"Because it just isn't right for a tutor and their… tutee to be fraternizing like that."
"What happened to you two that night?"
"Are you looking for my books at all? I really need to get them packed by tomorrow or I'm never going to finish. Then all school year I'll be pelting you with owls, just like last year, asking you to loan me your green sweater and trading you my blue one."
"Sure," Tuny sighed. "I'll go looking for your books and you tidy up this room."
Fifteen minutes later, Lily was replacing the last of the framed photos when the doorbell rang.
Immediately, she halted her work and skipped to the door. Standing on the other side was none other than "that dashing young chap" Peter Mollohan.
"Hey Pete," Lily grinned, ushering him into the house.
"Hey Lily," he smiled, entering the sitting room. "Wow, tidying up the sitting room?"
"Yea, well, you know me, Miss Perfectionist! That Tuny, though, she can be a bit of a slob!" Lily grinned, sharing the obvious joke.
"Speaking of Petunia, is she in?" he asked, knowing of Petunia's disdain for her sister's puerile nickname.
"Yea, she's jus-"
"I found them!" Petunia yelled from the dining room, dashing into the sitting room toward Lily.
When she saw Peter standing beside her sister, she immediately stopped short, and dropped both arms that had been holding the large volumes.
"Whoa, looks like some pretty impressive books?" he said eyeing the heavy bound books with gold lettering behind Petunia's back.
"Yea, first addition Milton, he's a wordy guy. We all know how I love my books!" Lily grinned nervously before grabbing both volumes and dashing for her bedroom.
"What's with her?" Peter asked, watching Lily disappear up the stairs.
"I think she heard the phone ring? Did you hear the phone ring?" she muttered, her voice strangely high.
"No," he grinned, with that dashingly disarming smile of his, "are you ready?"
"For what?" she asked, confusion knitting her brows.
"Our date," he pulled her closer, rubbing her bare arms with his hands.
"Oh, date, sorry!" she smiled, pushing her hair away from her forehead. "I'm going to go get ready. It shouldn't take more than half an hour. Take the clicker and watch some tellie." She smiled apologetically.
"I'll be here," he sat back on the davenport and made himself comfortable.
Petunia climbed up the staircase her sister had just used as an escape. When she reached her room, she noticed how different it was from Lily's. On her walls were posters of bands she loved, but would ultimately replace when something new came along. On her low shelves were mysteries and Harlequin romances; books she would trade with her friends or lose in commute. Cute stuffed bears were set around her room, displaying a playful side she knew she never possessed. Her closet was lined with perfectly pressed clothes, all of which were color-coded in coordination with the color wheel. Her room was immaculate and sterile. It looked lived-in, but not… homey. The difference between Lillian's room and Petunia's was passion. Lily had an aura around her that seemed to consume everything she touched and made everything meaningful. Something that Petunia had always wished she possessed.
Heading straight for her closet, she began picking through her wardrobe, looking for something to wear. As she sorted through the blues, she heard a familiar rhythm knocking on the door.
"Yea?"
"Are you going to ask me to help you or do I have to beg?" Lily's voice implored through the closed door.
"I'd prefer it if you begged," Petunia replied.
"Ha ha." Lily entered her sister's room and sat down on her sister's creaseless bed. A ghost of a smile passing over her features as the faithfully automatic flinch tensed Petunia's posture.
"So, what are you going to wear?" she asked, letting her eyes scan the books on her sister's shelf.
"I'm not sure," Petunia answered, half listening, still searching through the blues.
"Well," Lily said, moving to the floor for a closer look at her sister's book collection. Hoping to find a hidden gem amongst the lumps of coal, she began inspecting titles and synopses. "Well, I was thinking, you always look good in red. So how 'bout the red silk blouse, the one that's open at the neck, the brown skirt and my brown, leather boots?"
"Huh?" Petunia frowned, only hearing the part about the leather boots.
"I said: red silk blouse, brown skirt and my leather boots."
"Oh, that's perfect!" Petunia smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Can I borrow that bracelet you got for your birthday?"
"What bracelet?" Lily asked, looking up this time.
"Ya' know, that pretty red beaded one. I think you said that Potter boy gave it to you?"
"Oh," she said, her voice faltering.
"So, can I borrow it? I think it would work well with my outfit."
"Oh, uh," Lily said, her mind racing, "Actually, I don't think it'll look good with your outfit. Too much red can make you look pale. I think my wooden bracelet would be-"
"Too much brown will make me look like a tree. Please can I borrow the red bracelet?"
"I don't think so, Tuny," Lily sighed. "I honestly don't think it'd look good with your outfit."
"Lily, I know that's not it. Really, why don't you want me to wear that bracelet?"
"I just- I just don't want you to wear it. I don't want you to lose it."
"Lillian, I'm not five, I think I can handle not losing a bracelet."
"Look, Petunia, I just don't want you to borrow it, ok?"
"Why? Because that Potter boy gave it to you? Are you sweet on him? Are we going to get a letter from that school of yours saying that our little, sweet, innocent Lillian was caught snogging that Potter boy in the corridor?"
"Shut up, Petunia!" Lily screamed, "I don't like Potter! He is the biggest prat I've ever met!"
"Then why won't you let me wear his bracelet?"
"Because I won't. This conversation is over!" She yelled, storming out of Petunia's bedroom.
Petunia watched as Lily stomped from her room, feeling just the teeniest bit of pride that she was the one to rile up her sister.
"Knock, knock," Petunia knocked, this time on Lily's door.
"What do you want?" a heavy voice carried through the door.
"There was some talk earlier about a pair of brown leather boots?"
Behind the door Petunia could hear some shuffling through the door, a soft band and a string of obscenities followed. Finally, the door creaked open, and before she could come up with a quip, a pair of heavy, brown boots came flying from the room, crashing the opposite wall loudly.
"Thanks," Petunia called after the door was slammed in her face.
But the other side remained silent.
Shrugging, Petunia grabbed the boots and skipped down to meet Peter on the couch.
"What was that?" Peter asked, turning off the TV as Petunia sat beside him pulling on the boots.
"Oh nothing, just sororal affection."
Placing her foot in the boot, she yelped when she felt her foot tap something with an edge. Retracting her leg, she reached inside and found Lily's strawberry Lip Smacker. A sincere smile softened her features as she tucked the tube in her pocket.
"Ready?" Peter placed his hands on his knees and launched himself from his seated position.
"Ready," she nodded as he helped her stand.
Lily heard the door slam shut as the two lovebirds departed. A sigh escaped her lips as she thought about the stupid argument they both just had. Why in the hell was she getting into an argument with Petunia over James Potter? It was so immature. And why was she so attached to that damned bracelet?
Pushing her hair out of her face, she got out of her bed and continued to pack, not leaving her room until her parents arrived from their date.
TBC . . .
P.A/N: Thank you for reading this. I hope you liked it. If you had ever read the original, you'll know that the plot is still the same, only a few details have been changed. Let me know how you like it so far… Petunia's a jerk, but she's still loveable. Please R&R!
With love,
Yo-yo