Clink. Together. Silence. Apart.
"They're brilliant, don't you think?" He held up a chain of tiny silver balls.
"Er...that...those are—." She did not want to insult him by demeaning the gift, but weren't they just..."Magnets?"
He frowned, and she was sure he was about to draw into himself as he so often did, but the creases in his cheeks remained only for a moment. His dark eyes instead gained a certain spark, a strange confidence that she had yet to see occupy them in their short friendship.
"Well, when you asked about being Muggle-born the other day..." He hesitated.
"Yes?" She was not making the connection and it seemed to perturb him.
"I thought that this might help. Proof, you might say. That it doesn't make a difference."
He placed the chain in her palm, his eyes darting up to her forehead before they shifted back down to her gaze. His confidence was shedding off in layers, peeling away more and more every moment that she remained unfazed.
She noticed. "They're lovely! Very...er...shiny. I just still don't—."
"Even in this world...in the Muggle world, I mean...there is magic. I didn't used to think so, but then I met—." He paused, his eyes shifting once more to her forehead. He changed course. "The magnets. I saw them on a shelf at the corner store the other day. They made me think about how there are forces in this world, too. Unexplainable ones. Like the way magnets are...drawn together."
Her eyes were bright now. "Oh, I see! You'll have to forgive me. Tuney threw a hairbrush at my head earlier and I think it must have knocked a few brain cells around, y'know?"
His face darkened. "I don't know why you bother with her."
She sighed, clenching the chain in her palm. She then looked up again, mouth set in an oddly serious line. It would not have been so peculiar had her eyes not been sparkling.
"There are forces in this world, too, Sev. Unexplainable ones." Her lips remained closed for barely a second longer before she bent over and let out a hoot of laughter, clutching conspiratorially at his arm. And he laughed, too, watching her carefully and thinking of magnets.
Clink. Together. Silence. Apart.
"What's that you're playing with, girl? Marbles?" Vernon Dursley's large face was even pinker than usual, a testament to the glass of wine he held in his gargantuan hand. His fifth in the last half hour.
And, Merlin, did she hate it when he called her girl.
She shoved the chain into a pocket and opened her mouth to retort, but was quickly interrupted by the tall, ridiculously thin woman who had just entered the room. With another bottle of wine, it must be noted.
"Oh, darling, don't you know? Lily lost her marbles years ago." Her sister's smile was sweet enough that it may fool the average passerby, but it didn't reach her eyes. It never did anymore when Lily was around.
"Ha bloody ha, Tuney."
Petunia's countenance darkened.
"What did she call you, Pet?" Vernon had spotted the fresh bottle of wine and quickly threw back what was left in his glass, proffering it expectantly to his fiancée.
She eagerly re-filled it, leaning forward to rub his red cheeks and sufficiently distracting him with the bit of cleavage that was produced in her hunch. "Nothing, dearest. I believe she coughed."
He grunted his approval.
Lily quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed, sick. Feeling rather nauseous, actually."
Her sister's eyes narrowed as she squeezed onto the love seat with Vernon. There was barely room, even for her absurdly thin frame.
"Mum," she called, her voice overly loud, "tell me again why Lily is visiting."
Mrs. Evans was not the one to answer, though. Vidahlia Snell, clad in a purple velvet tunic and sporting dangly peacock earrings, sashayed out of the kitchen. Her laughter arrived in the living room before she did.
"Oh, Petty, love. Now, now. You know that your Mum and I need to live vicariously through you darlings these days. You keep us spinsters young."
Lily welcomed the ease of a real smile. "Dahlia, you're hardly spinsters. You both reached your silver anniversary!"
The older woman joined Lily on the longer couch. "A widow is a spinster with benefits, my love."
Petunia sipped her wine. "Benefits, Mrs. Snell?"
She grinned, squeezing Lily's shoulder. "Yes, many benefits. Not the least of which is that of not being a lifelong virgin!"
Lily smirked as her sister spit a burst of wine onto Vernon's white trousers. In his drunken state, he didn't seem to mind much—in fact, he barely seemed to register anything as Petunia's chest came into view again while she leaned in to dab at the stain.
"Not to worry, Vernon. Crimson is your—" Dahlia evaluated the wide man in front of her, her eyes lingering on his rosy, swollen cheeks, and amended. "...well, it's certainly a color. Petty, sweets, that's quite enough rubbing, this isn't the red-light district."
Lily bit down hard on her lip to suppress her own amusement, watching carefully as Petunia quickly retracted her hand. When her sister turned her face toward them, her cheeks were colored furiously.
But then again, self-control could be overrated.
She held up her own glass of wine, admiring it. "Ah, my favorite. Blush."
Vernon scowled, inspecting his own drink. "Pet, I told you to buy Merlot, not—."
Her sister flew to her feet, swiftly cutting him off. "As you wished, Vernon! Just drink it."
Lily turned to her godmother, not trusting herself to look at Petunia. "You were saying?"
Dahlia simpered, squeezing Lily's knee. "I was saying that us old birds need to live vicariously through our daughters, and seeing as I only have a son, and seeing as he has a boyfriend named Demetri, I find it quite necessary to live through you and Petty. Now, Lily, tell me about this boy—."
"I heard there was a spill!" Mrs. Evans hurried into the room, shooting a furtive glance toward Lily, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod in thanks.
Lily glanced sideways at her godmother, hardly realizing that her hands were clenching fistfuls of her long skirt. The turn in conversation had made her insides clench and the wine was suddenly dizzying her, reddening her own cheeks. Yes, of course, the wine.
Luckily, Dahlia was easily curbed. "Oh, Cathy, the carpets are fine, don't get yourself into a twist. I was merely being a bit cheeky."
Mrs. Evans informed her friend that she was never just a bit cheeky, to which Dahlia began to lift up her dress so that everyone could really see some cheek, and much more cheekiness, in fact, ensued, as the two women chattered away.
The conversation in the small room continued quite easily for some time, actually, until Vernon insisted on pulling out the Sunday paper to show the women a write-up that had been done about the company who'd just hired him. As he opened the paper wide in front of his face, Dahlia sighed.
Lily and her mum both turned inward out of curiosity.
"Oh, it's nothing. I just—Cathy, do you remember any of the men that Cecil used to work with?"
Mrs. Evans shook her head.
Dahlia shrugged, but her face had clouded over. "It's really of no matter. It's just...I always find these situations to be so tragic. Especially during the holidays. Reminds me of last Christmas when Cece passed and—."
When she broke off, trembling slightly, Lily reached over and placed a warm hand on her shoulder.
Dahlia looked up, giving Lily a brief smile. "I'm being overly emotional. I barely knew the man. He just used to work with Cece over at the mill...came to a birthday of his once. Nasty, awful man. Not a gentleman, by any means, but still. I hate to hear of such things."
Mrs. Evans seemed to grasp the situation, asking softly, "He died?"
Lily stiffened. Death was never a particularly cheery topic for anyone, but nevertheless not something that she usually strayed from. She wasn't one of those weepy birds that could barely speak of it, and when her father had died five years earlier, she had handled it quite healthily. She hadn't bottled up emotions or become rebellious, but simply cried, and mourned and healed. Death had never been something she'd been particularly afraid of, but everything had changed recently. Death, among other things, was not a welcome topic tonight, and she hoped her mother would step in once more.
"Yes, but—" Dahlia's voice broke again. "Well, it was a suicide."
Lily got up, not too quickly, but as if she were going to put her glass in the sink, and began to walk towards the kitchen. Even if the subject wouldn't change, her location could.
Mrs. Evans, unfortunately, was caught off guard by this twist in the story, and though she knew exactly why Lily had stood up, found herself inexplicably curious. "I hadn't heard of anything of the sort...and all of the mill workers live so close by! Dahlia, how had I not heard of this? Someone in my own neighborhood does this and I wasn't even aware? What was his name?"
Lily was a step away from entering the kitchen.
"Tobias Snape."
She froze.
"Oh, I-I didn't know him." As her mother faltered, Lily turned around, the beat of her pulse thumping in her neck.
She'd thought that her mum's eyes would be the source of comfort seeking hers out, but as she turned, it was the intense gaze of her sister that locked with her own. Petunia held this eye contact for nearly a full minute before turning back towards Dahlia.
"Mrs. Snell, would you like more wine?"
Dahlia, who had been wringing her hands anxiously in her lap as Mrs. Evans patted her leg, let out a resigned sigh and held out her glass. "Certainly, dear."
"You know, Vernon and I are thinking of having a bottle of this at every table at the wedding." Petunia's voice had turned chipper and louder. "Oh, and speaking of the wedding, you wouldn't by any chance have time to stop round the caterers with Mum and I tomorrow?"
Dahlia, infamous for buying only pink baby clothes while carrying her son, was instantly absorbed by the bride-to-be's details. As she focused in on Petunia and Vernon went back to his paper, Mrs. Evans turned a watchful eye on Lily. Her daughter, it seemed, had quietly left for the kitchen. She excused herself from present company and trailed after her.
Lily was to be found at the sink, washing the evening's dinner dishes. A soft frown pulled at Mrs. Evan's features as she realized that her child was not so much actively cleaning anything as she was draping her arms into the basin. She approached carefully and made to turn the faucet off, smarting when the water gushed over her own hand. It was scorching hot.
She evaluated her daughter, who was yet to speak up—simply staring out the window that framed the wall over their sink. Her expression was closed; her eyes withdrawn. Her small hands appeared raw from the scouring.
"Mum, I don't want to talk about it." She stated simply.
Mrs. Evans sighed. "About...Dahlia's story? Or about Jam—."
"Mum!" Lily snapped.
She stepped back. "You don't have to clean up, Lily. Go home."
Mrs. Evan's voice had been gentle, but Lily whipped around fiercely, pieces of her red hair flinging across her face. "But it's a mess and you can't do all of this by yourself! Look, the dishes are everywhere and n-nothing's clean and it's j-just you! You shouldn't be burdened. No one should be burdened like this. We shouldn't be left to clean up these messes alone."
When she finished, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of her. Her body slumped against the sink, both arms coming forward to encircle her waist.
Mrs. Evans surveyed her daughter once again, looking as if she wanted very badly to say something, but wasn't at all sure that it was right in that moment. She hesitated. "I know that you were hoping tonight would be a distraction, but—."
"Mum. I don't want to talk about it."
She plowed on anyway. "Honey, go home. Being back here isn't helping and if I had known that...that that had happened, I would've never suggested you come tonight in the first place."
Lily looked very, very tired. Her mother's resolve must have wavered, for she stepped forward again, embracing her child.
"You aren't alone. These things happen, darling. They happen to everyone...and we just take it one day at a time. He'll come around."
Lily's eyes were shining. She sniffed softly. "He's not even himself, Mum. Of all people, I thought I could help, but he doesn't want me."
Mrs. Evans wiped her thumb along Lily's eyes. "He may not want you, but he needs you. Trust me on this, Lily."
Lily nodded, but it was noncommittal.
"And this thing about Mr. Snape..."
Lily stiffened.
"Leave it be. You have too much on your plate already, you hardly need this weighing on your mind. I'm sure it was—."
"It wasn't, Mum." The expression in her eyes had hardened.
"O-okay. But, you don't know that for sure, so please just leave it be for now. Go home and talk to him."
"He's probably not even there, probably drinking—."
"And that isn't your place to judge."
This seemed to shut Lily up. She pursed her lips, gathering herself, then placed her palm behind her mother's head and brushed a kiss on her cheek. Without another word, she crossed to the kitchen table, where an ordinary Muggle coat was hanging from one of the chairs. She slipped it on and walked straight back to the living room. When she reached her destination, she stopped in the middle of the room and waited for her presence to be acknowledged.
"Sorry to be cutting the evening short, but I'm a bit knackered and it's...it's a long trip, y'know?" She bit her lip at the last bit, the lie.
Dahlia got up to kiss her goodbye and Vernon held up one hand and slurred something at her. Petunia, however, stood last and took hold of her arm.
Her eyes were narrowed. "I'll walk you out."
Lily shrugged, part not quite sure of what was going on, mostly not even caring much.
Petunia's eyes immediately wandered off when they stepped outside, Lily's soon following suit in curiosity. Barely in sight down at the far end of their street, the playground was unoccupied and still, save the set of swings that were guided to and fro by the wind.
"Go home, Lily."
She did not want to start an unnecessary row with her sister, not now that she was leaving. She did not much appreciate being told what to do for the second time in barely ten minutes, though, especially when she was already obeying the exact orders.
"Where else would I be going, Tuney?" The exasperated sigh had barely passed her lips when the alternate itinerary dawned on her.
Petunia's large eyes flickered away again, as they had on that day Lily had accused her of hiding a hairbrush.
Lily's gaze traveled over to the playground once more, then back toward her sister.
"Petunia," her voice had deepened, grown quite serious, "is he here?"
The older girl pressed her lips together, defiant.
"Tell me."
Petunia drew in a shaky breath and pointed a finger toward the playground. "Lily, that boy...don't you realize...h-he very well could have—." She couldn't say it, but her voice was rising. "...and you come back here to see him...and have the nerve to act like you're visiting us, have the nerve to make Mum believe you're so distraught, have the nerve to try and upstage me when you're not even wearing—."
"A ring?" Lily let out a bitter chuckle, then pulled her wand from the pocket of her coat.
Petunia flinched and immediately withdrew, but while the object was pointed out, it was not pointed at her. Lily had instead tapped her own hand and murmured something that she couldn't quite catch. She was unable to suppress her gasp as her eyes were drawn downward, for the ring that sparkled on her sister's fourth finger seemed to literally be emanating light.
It was Lily's turn to guffaw when Petunia took hold of that hand, not a grab, not forcefully, but with...tenderness?
Petunia held it up close for inspection. She had been to several jewelry shoppes with Vernon in the past six years, having dragged him in nearly every time they'd been out, desperately hoping he'd catch on. He had, in his own time, which in Vernon's case meant painfully slow, but Petunia was sure she'd seen hundreds—maybe thousands—of rings, before she had finally laid eyes on her own. She was certain, though, that she had never seen a ring quite like the one that adorned her sister's finger. The band was a gleaming white gold with a solitaire flocking either side of the octagonal face. Surrounding the center diamond were delicate, intricately crafted flowers, each with a tiny gem of its own inside the petals.
"It's..." Positively stunning.
"Goblin made." Lily supplied, a weariness now weighing down on the lilt of her voice.
Petunia dropped her hand abruptly and when the sisters' eyes met Lily understood that her mention of the foreign word had allowed her sister to regain composure.
"Well, it must have cost a fortune," Petunia's voice had acquired its usual condescension. "Why in blazes would you hide it?"
"A fortune?" The bitter mirth came rolling off Lily's tongue again. "It cost a lot more than that."
Petunia wanted very badly to know more. She wanted to hear her sister's version of the story her mother had hurriedly recounted earlier. She wanted to look straight into those bright green eyes that were ablaze with a mix of fury and tears and tell her sister that everything would work out because she was Lily, and everything always worked out for Lily. She wanted to hug her. Most of all, though, she wanted that boy to stay far away from her sister. And, she supposed, knowing that she may have secured at least that for tonight was enough.
Unsure of what else to say and quite overwhelmed in that moment by her own emotions, Petunia faltered, then asked, "Are you off, then?"
Misunderstanding, Lily scoffed, and when her head shook, Petunia swore she saw a tear leak out of her eyes. She swiped quickly at her face, pivoting, and as she turned muttered, "Yes. I'm off."
Petunia meant to call out to her, she honestly did. But, before the words could even formulate in her mind, let alone on her lips, she was staring merely at the mailbox rather than her sister's retreating back.
—
Lily squeezed her eyes shut for a full minute after she felt her feet hit the ground of her flat. She was ridding herself of the tears, surely, but also...bugger.
Please be here.
She repeated the mantra several times in her head, willing it to be true, before blinking her eyes open.
The entire place was dark and Lily begged her mind to be convinced that disorientation was the reason for the way her stomach seemed to plummet, and the dizzy ache in her temples, and the overcoming urge to sit down.
She groped at the smooth oak she knew to be the kitchen table and eased herself into the nearest chair.
Pointing her wand into the darkness, she whispered, "Lumos."
The beacon at the tip of her wand wasn't nearly as bright as the bulbs she could've summoned to light up, but it was enough to fill the kitchen with a soft glow that allowed her to look around.
Everything was just so. The china gleamed beautifully behind the shining glass doors of perfectly polished cabinets. The marble counters were resplendent; not a single smudge to be seen, every fancy appliance that Lily still hadn't learned the spells to control pushed back into its rightful spot. The size of the kitchen itself was even cause for amazement-it was nearly as large as most flats were in their entirety.
"Oh, Lily, it's perfect," Mary had remarked, awe-struck.
As she looked at all the beautiful accents of her kitchen, everything she laid her eyes on appearing to be untouched, she couldn't help but marvel herself.
How little life there was these days in this perfect life of hers.
Her eyes fell upon the Nimbus 1000 propped up in the corner nearest the door. Her mind was flooded with memories. Visions of his hands, or hers maybe, tousling a head of messy black hair. Another hand, definitely hers, smacking hard against his cheek; her body pulling away embarrassed by this flare of temper, only to find those infuriating hazel eyes dancing as they always were. Feeling her back against the freezing stone of Hogwarts' walls at night, his torso pressing against her, lips grazing her ear, the whisper of "All right, Evans?" and knowing, just knowing that if she were to pull back even an inch she'd be sure to see that crooked smirk.
Tap. T-t-t-t. Tap.
She shook her head, shaking away the memories, too. Realizing the slight smile that had graced her face only allowed a sudden rush of—worry, impatience, anger—to bubble up inside of her. Regaining hold of her senses, she allowed her ears to suss out the source of the disruptive noise. A rather enormous owl, so dark in color that the night was perfect camouflage, was requesting entry through the window above the sink.
With a sigh, she aimed her wand at the window. The owl screeched, barely waiting for the barrier to pop open before it squeezed its body through. It dropped a tied cylinder of parchment on the table and dug its talons into Lily's right shoulder as it landed.
She sighed again, this time more annoyed, allowing the exhalation of breath to shoot through her nostrils. The owl nipped at her face.
"Ow...eurgh! Hullo, Voltaire." She reached up to caress its back and this display of attention seemed to please it enough that it loosened its grip. Not wanting to give the owl any further reason for agitation, she picked up the parchment and unrolled it, her eyes quickly scanning its contents.
Evans,
Tame your rages. He's with me. Shall I tell him you're brassed off, as I'm certain you are, or are the pair of you continuing this ever-productive display of passive aggression? Ah, yes, the latter.
Cheers,
Padfoot
Upon finishing, Lily instantly crumbled up the letter, smashing it between her fingers and growling as she did so.
She thought of the magnetic chain in her pocket, of her lifeless kitchen, of hazel eyes dancing at her from what seemed like ages ago, and of Petunia's eyes averting their gaze tonight in a clear display that she had something to hide.
It was one of those decisions that is made before one realizes they've even been considering it.
Pointing her wand at her left hand, Lily repeated the spell she had performed earlier before entering her mother's house.
Hands now bare, she pictured Spinner's End in her head and thought again of magnets. A moment later, she apparated.
Clink. Together. Silence. Apart.
Author's Note: This is my first foray back into the HP universe in a while, so please be kind :) & I am a big L/J fan, though this first chapter may lead you to believe otherwise. Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave comments/constructive criticism-both are welcome!