and she'll dance in the flames of love and life
The little Lily surrounded in expectations of Roses. The world seems to want her, to need her. It's been a long time since someone has seen it; you should hope it's you who witnesses her. She'll turn your world in circles and you won't be able to do anything but enjoy it.
To those who wish or have ever wished that you were something different, something beautiful. Something exotic and magnificent; something more than you ever thought you could be. I've wished that, I still do.
Jupiter, Saturn, and Venus leisurely spin around the softly gleaming biggest, brightest, globe. She sits beside it, bathed in the warm light, watching. It's her father's old set, and to be honest, she quite likes it. She favors it over her new and improved set of Space Spheres. Hers is complicated and intense, multiple solar systems, loads of new planets, and the terrifyingly bright light of the center spheres. It's not like the inviting subtle yellow glow of the Space Spheres up here long forgotten in the attic (or whatever they might have been called twenty-or-so years ago).
She likes to sit in the attic of their house whenever she has a moment of freedom (when she's not playing Quidditch, drawing, with friends and family, or at Hogwarts). The attic from the main part of the house connects to the top of the tower where Teddy's room resides. Sometimes she stomps and bangs around at the top of the tower just to get a rise out of her god-brother whenever he stays the night (he's really rather easy to rile up, his hair turns red and black while his eyes turn an odd sort of glowing yellow as he shouts and grumps like a girl on her monthly cycle). Only her father and James Sirius know where she frequently disappears to; they're good secret keepers.
She shares her secrets with Louis and Lucy, but not all of them; they wouldn't understand. They wouldn't understand her never ending hunger for knowledge of the past, of the Marauders' War (The War Against Voldemort I) or Lily's Time. They'd never be able to comprehend her unsatisfied thirst for information and understanding of the War of the Golden (The War Against Voldemort II) and the Era of Chaos.
She's desperate for the stories of her Uncle Fred, Remus John, Nymphadora Cassiopeia, Sirius Orion, Regulus Arcturus (Kreacher was forbidden to tell her details, he died before she was old enough to comprehend), and every other living and deceased warrior. She longs to have awareness, of her and her siblings' namesakes (more detail) and of her father and his friends. (Their bond runs deeper than that of even marriage. Sometimes she sees her mother, grandmother, grandfather, Uncle George, and Uncle Bill look on at them, a funny sort of expression painted on their faces. She knows that nothing will ever separate them, not now, not ever.) She's well aware of her father's horrifying nightmares (she's heard her Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron arguing with her father about silencing himself). She's not sure she could ever live through something so horrendous, so she takes care to do as her father bids, even if it means letting Rose and Molly win (Lucy'll get them for her, but she'd let them win even if Lucy didn't retaliate). She'll do anything just to please him, if only to see his brilliant smile, the slight crinkling around his glimmering viridian eyes, as lovely as the day he was born.
Okay, so she tends to neglect Herbology and Transfiguration (that's more James Sirius's style anyway, and who needs Herbology when you're going to be the biggest magical historian ever?), and she hates History of Magic because Binns is the only one who could ever possibly make magical history boring. The only reason she has good marks in DADA, Potions, and Charms is because she seems to have a natural affinity for them. (Everyone whispers of Lily Evans Charms talents and her Potions mastery at age eighteen. They talk of her father's Defense Against the Dark Arts brilliance; but they also talk of her exquisite mind and love of history, so at least she has some individuality.) But that's who she is, and everyone knows this, if they don't she'll pound it into their skull; because she doesn't want to be an auror, or a healer, or professor, or a Quidditch player, or anything else. She wants to be a magical historian, a writer, an illustrator; that's who she is and she won't let anyone else tell her otherwise.