Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter, but I assure you this particular plot was of my own invention.
This is AU, with cannon pairings.
L&J
Note: This will undoubtedly be very long, both in chapter length and time. Slowly at the story matures, the ratings will with it.
Chapter one
The death of a Hale.
I notice her hands first. Crossed at the wrists and placed delicately across her stomach, a large diamond loosely on one of the fingers. They don't look like my mothers hands. These ones are pale and leathery, splotched with thick blue veins, completely different from my mother's once smooth and freckled skin. It's hard to think that they once combed my hair, once wiped tears from my eyes.
Her body is frail and old, crippled with disease and aching bones. I hate looking at her like this; I hate watching her slowly fade away. She's nothing but bones covered in sagging flesh. No longer is she soft and warm, the way I remember her from so long ago. How long has she been like this? How had I not noticed how thin, how waxy and sharp she'd become?
She opens her mouth to speak and the words are bitter and jumbled, mashed together in rushed sentences and spat like the blood from her dying gums. She tells me how death feels like betrayal, haunting her in her fractured hands and broken limbs. She tells me how much she loved my father, she tells me he's waiting for her.
I can do nothing but listen, grasping her withered fingers with my own. She's not even fifty and already death has laid a claim to her. It's not old age she is dying of. Muggle doctors can't make sense of it and even in the final hours she refused to see a healer. My sister, Petunia, and I know she's really dying of a broken heart. She's been dying for years now.
"Lily, you have to find them…you have to make them all pay." Her words are vengeful, poisoned with hatred. She doesn't even sound like my mother anymore.
"Don't stop, promise me, you won't ever stop looking." I nod and promise. I've been promising her all week the same thing.
Her hand tightens around mine as a tremor racks through her body. I release my sob the moment her eyes roll to the back of her head. My sob is a retched thing that sounds more animal than human and I pray Petunia isn't listening at the door. I haven't cried like this in years. For a moment I think she's dead, that her last words were ones of revenge and malice and how I never had the chance to tell her I love her.
But she breathes again, a long ragged breath. Her eyes are glazed over and her mouth hangs open a little, her lips are a pale purple. Even on the precipice of death I can still see the beauty in her features, past the hollowed cheeks and grayish tinted skin. There's beauty in the arch of her brow and in the delicate lines of her face. What would I give to have her whole, I wonder?
"I love you…I love both of my girls." Her voice is no longer laced with anger, but filled with a deep sorrowful tone. It shakes me.
"Lily, I know…I know I've put you through so much," her eyes brim with tears, "I just want you to know how much I love you. How strong I think you are." She's looking past me, towards the photo of my father on the desk to my right.
"Taking care of Petunia, looking after me these years, school...how can you ever forgive me?" There's a tremor in her lip.
My stomach turns in on itself and knots into a hundred coils. It's so much easier to let her go changed, bitter and old and when she doesn't resemble the mother I once knew. But now, now that her face has softened and she is once again the woman who stroked my hair at bedtime and kissed my cheeks each morning, now that I see the mother I knew her to be, it is harder.
"Please don't go," I beg, "please."
I don't know what else to say. It's been so long since I've seen her like this, heard her speak like this, it doesn't seem fair she's being ripped away again. She twists her fingers into my hair and smiles. It's a magnificent smile, regardless of the red tinted teeth and now colorless lips. I haven't seen it in almost eight years, not since my father died.
"Lily, love, I can only pray that you will forgive me. I've been in such a dark place ever since… ever since your father was killed. I should never have abandoned you like that. I should never have taken you out of Hogwarts, or left you alone to watch over Petunia…my deepest regret is what I've done to you, my sweet Lily." Her words were whispered, tuned in time to each barely perceptible rise and fall of her chest. Her strength was fading, her skin growing colder with every passing second.
" I forgive you." I wasn't sure if that was a lie or if it was the truth.
"Promise me that you'll leave this place? You don't belong here, you're special… you can't stay hidden in the muggle world."
"I- what about Petunia?" What she was asking was impossible. I could no sooner leave my sister than I could tear myself apart. Petunia was still a minor, and unfortunately non-magical.
"Always thinking of others and not yourself." She tried another smile, but a cough shuddered through her lips. A shadow sneaked into the colors of her eyes and I saw the change harden her face. It came about so suddenly I dropped her hand in surprise.
"Do as I say, as I could never do myself." Her words were once again urgent, desperate. "Promise me, for your father?"
I gave her a shaky nod.
"Y-yes. I promise."
Fear curled deeper into my stomach, anchoring me to the ground. I wanted to cling to her, tightly wrap in her in my arms, as if that was enough to make her stay. But I did not want this version of her.
"I am not afraid to die," she murmured, eyes closing, "I will see your father soon…and one day, I shall see you again too."
And then she's gone.
I tip forward from my chair and close her mouth. A few strands of brittle, coppery hair curls around her cold cheeks and I brush it back with a hand. The realization that my mother is dead, dead and lying before me breaks over me like a wave. And then I can't see anything because a startlingly white light has penetrated my eyes, making me dizzy and alarmed. My chest is suddenly tight and the beat of my heart is so rapid I can hardly hear anything but the thud um it makes. I'm about to faint, I think dimly.
My senses start to come back to me and I realize that I've been crying.
The door swings open and I look behind me, startled and panicked and despaired. Petunia holds a hand to her mouth, eyes wide and already filled with tears. I want to reach out to her, to hold her and be the pillar of strength that she needs. But I'm suddenly tired and exhausted and I have no more strength.
I watch as she swoops down over our mother, tears hitting the cold flesh like rain. I watch as she clings to the lifeless body, begging for the life to be restored to it. I watch as the sobs break through she trembles in pain. I do nothing.
Muggle doctors fill the room, distant relatives and family friends trickle in, eyes downcast and hands held tightly. There are too many people in the room and suddenly I feel suffocated, smothered.
My joints are stiff as I try to stand. I don't know how long I've been sitting in the chair, next to my dead mother, but my legs buckle under me and I have to sit down again. No one notices my fall. They're all focused on my sister, all focused on the body that use to be my mother. I think about her dying wish, about the promise.
My second attempt is easier and I quickly push through the crowded room, already tainted with the smell of death.
../..
My feet hit the pavement lifelessly, the black heels of my shoes echoing in the distance like a drumbeat. The rain has come in waves, washing the color of the landscape and hills away. The red roofs of farmhouses are dull and dark and the comfort I once took in the colorful trees diminished as the last of their autumn leaves blow away on the wind.
I use my wrist to wipe the tears away.
Only a handful of people in the town once knew my mother, once spoke to her and laughed with her, but her parade goes on for miles. It was to be expected, she was a Hale, the oldest family in Burnley, England. Our parade marched slowly, mechanically, our dark clothing making a swarm of black and gray.
I feel an odd mix of resentment and gratitude towards these faceless strangers, they did not know my mother- they did not share in her life- but they are marching in respect to her death. I wonder if this will be the same treatment I receive, while not partaking in the last name Hale, their blood still runs through my veins.
Our march ends directly in front of large six-foot hole. The dirt is piled up neatly to the side and there's a large picture of a woman smiling planted next to a shiny black coffin. It's closed, but not because of the rain.
The hole is about to become the grave for my mother.
I felt pressure being applied to my left shoulder; I saw my sister out of the corner of my eye and allowed myself to be comforted by her touch. It was odd to lean against her, her providing me with strength was unfamiliar and strange. I knew it should be the other way; I should be the one to be strong for her. Her crystal eyes were covered by a veil in attempt to hide the raw red her tears had made and the smear of black from her mascara. She slipped her hand into mine.
Her hand felt nice against my own cold skin. Petunia attempted a small smile at me, the corners of her lips curled upwards slightly, but it looked pained and force. She sniffed and tucked her nose into the collar of her new black dress, wiping it along the lace frill. It pained me to watch her. She was still so young, fifteen and already both of her parents dead and soon I would be abandoning her too. It wasn't fair to her, not at all.
The rain ceased falling and a little bit of the sun broke from behind the clouds. I let the umbrella I was holding fall and stand in the after mist. I ignored most of the service, the halfhearted words of distant relatives and their generalized sermons. Instead I focused on the picture of my mother, the last one taken of her before my father was killed.
Her hair was done up beautifully, wispy curls clinging to the side of her face and making her looks effortless. Her lips were tinted in pale pink and curled into that magnificent smile, upper teeth barely touching her lower lips in a halfhearted attempt to conceal a laugh. I remembered her laugh; it sounded like honeyed bells. In the picture, my mother's eyes were wide and green, clear and inviting, as they had nothing to hide. I missed her eyes the most.
My attention was momentarily caught on Petunia as she released my hand and walked up to address the mourning crowd. Her words were caught in her chest and after several moments she finally spoke. She spoke of our mother's kindness, her laughter, her smiles and jokes.
As the crowd laughed at her funny tales of our mother and smiled at the beautiful moments she recounted, I couldn't help but be furious. All of those memories, everything, were from eight years ago. Petunia was barely seven then, and she couldn't pull one happy memory of my mother, one worthy to be told, past her eighth birthday. It was unforgivable. A hot poker of rage battled against my own guilt.
She ended in tears, reciting a prayer our mother had taught us when we were little.
A murmur rose from the crowd, a few whispers on the tragedy that had befallen my sister. A woman in an extravagant hat gave a small sniff and blew her nose in a handkerchief. The man to my right shifted and motioned me forward. It was my turn next.
I hadn't thought about what I wanted to say, or if I should say anything at all. Someone so enraged should never give such a speech. I walked up to the photo, the one that had kept my attention for the entire service, and stood next to Petunia. She hugged me tightly before walking back and retaking her place among the sea of black, waiting, like the rest of them, to hear my words.
I spoke to the picture of my mother and not the crowd.
"My fathers passing left my mother with two children and a broken heart. I watched as my mother slowly withered away, dying of heartache. There is no better place for her than where she is at, besides my father in the arms of our Lord, watching us in Heaven."
I wasn't sure if there was a God, but at the moment I needed to believe that He was there, welcoming my mother. A silence filled the air and I felt momentarily as if I made a mistake, if I should say something more. I swallowed once and someone coughed. The moment broke and I walked back to my sister with my head downcast, eyes focused on my soiled shoes. I didn't want to face anyone.
"We'll always have each other, Lily." Petunia whispered, pulling me back into her embrace. Guilt rose like bile through my body.
"Of course." Lie. What would she say when I leave her behind?
Slowly people left the graveyard, uttering condolences and wishing Petunia and I the best. I gave noncommittal grunts and slight shakes of the head as thanks, not bothering to properly respond to anyone. Petunia was doing a marvelous job at being polite enough for the both of us, smiling softly while thanking everyone for their good thoughts and prayers.
"Lily, Lily Evans?" I didn't recognize the man that called my name, but I was startled when instead of expressing his sorrow, he reached out and hugged me. I froze, momentarily stunned that a strange man was hugging me. He seemed to realize I didn't respond and backed away, looking embarrassed.
"Sorry, I just haven't seen you in so long…I had no idea Mrs. Hale, or should I say, Mrs. Evans was your mother, I am so sorry for your loss." His face was warm and sad, as if he truly was sorry. I was positive that I'd never met him before. He was not easily forgettable with his dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. His nose was straight and set on a very masculine jaw line, flattered by a full-lipped smile.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think we've ever met."
A flash of hurt fluttered through his features and then he was smiling again, as if he had expected nothing else.
"We went to Hogwarts together; I'm Remus, Remus Lupin. We were in Gryffindor together."
Immediate recognition set in, but he was not the thin wiry boy I once knew him to be. Of course the last time I had seen him he was twelve and was awkward in a developing body, a complete contrast to the broad shouldered handsome man standing before me.
"How- why are you- what are you doing here?" I asked.
"My father was really good friends with your father and he came to his funeral, and out of respect to your family my father and I came to your mothers. I had no idea you were in relation to either of them," Remus took a step closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. "I assumed you were a Muggleborn… Blimey I can't believe I never made the connection. Had I known otherwise I would have come to visit you," he paused, as if unsure whether to continue, "what…what happened Lily? You never came back to third year. Everyone thought you transferred schools or something, none of our letters were returned. James- do you remember him- the one with glasses, even sent a Howler to you he was so upset. Why did you never reply?"
I didn't know where to begin. Like with my mother's eulogy, I had no idea how to start or even what to say for that matter. The urge to turn and flee was powerful.
"It's…it's complicated. I am sorry, really, for not being able to write. I needed to be at home, my father- well I… it's complicated." I grimaced, trying not to look at Remus's face. How could I possibly explain anything to him?
"I don't understand," Remus said, "you've just been at home? Surely Dumbledore would never have allowed it, there are strict rules that the Ministry enforces about education. You simply can't not go."
"I told you, it's complicated." I was beginning to get frustrated. I didn't have to be questioned like this. I didn't need to explain to him how much my mother sank into her depression, how she could barely feed herself, couldn't leave her bed for months, that the rest of her life was spent ignoring her children and responsibilities. It would never make sense to him, why I stayed at home to make my sister breakfast each morning and walk her to the bus stop for school, why I was the one who ordered the groceries and made my mother take her medicine. There was no way to explain to him that I had desperately missed Hogwarts and that I didn't keep in touch because of that bitter sadness.
Petunia was suddenly by my side, clutching my arm and glaring at Remus. I could tell by the set of her mouth he thought he was upsetting me. She wasn't entirely wrong.
"I- I'm sorry for asking such questions, Lily." Remus apologized, taking a step backwards "I shouldn't intrude on your privacy. I was only so curious and happy to see you once again."
I felt a quick surge of regret for almost losing my temper. He hadn't seen or heard from me in eight years, yet he remembered me, had cared enough to say hello.
"Lily, we should go… Aunt Felicity is arguing with Meredith about who is to watch over us now." I nodded to Petunia and turned back to say goodbye to Remus.
"Here, this is my address," Remus scrawled something quickly on a piece of paper, "you can floo over anytime, or you can owl me. I would really like to talk to you Lily and I know the others would love to see you too."
He pushed the paper into my hand then turned, walking in the opposite direction and disappearing from my view.
"You would think," Petunia said a little sharply, "that any decent blokes, regardless of how attractive they may be, would contain themselves at a funeral."
I laughed, truly, for the first time since our mother died.
"He was an old friend from school, Pet, no need to worry about him." I pinched her arm lightly and she swatted my hand away good-naturedly.
"Well, as long as he doesn't take you away from me" Petunia smiled. She didn't notice my flinch. She didn't need to worry about Remus taking me away, I going by myself.
Petunia and I walked out of the graveyard slowly and silently. I couldn't bring myself to say anything as we pushed through the gate enclosing the burial grounds and out onto the gray sidewalk. I found myself not being able to 'bring myself' to do anything lately. I pushed down a quell of self-loathing and grabbed Petunia's hand, her eyes were beginning to water again.
Up ahead our closest relatives stood huddle in a circle, waiting for us. We piled into two cars and I made sure Petunia sat next to me, away from the stoic glares of Aunt Meredith. The drive home was tense and silent, the impending reading of the will looming over everyone. I would be leaving shortly after the will was read and I hadn't found the chance to tell Petunia.
Walking into our house was like walking into a strangers' home. My aunts and cousins had rearranged everything for the memorial service and the house had not been this clean for years, although I did a good job at keeping it clean, it embarrassed me to admit I had never been able to keep it clean like this. The house was too big and with only Petunia and I able to do the work it was too hard to get every spot of dust and grain of dirt.
One of my cousins tapped a foot impatiently next to a tray of food. I knew most of the people were here not out of love or kindness, but to hear the will in hopes they would be on the receiving end of the Hales and Evans enormous generosity.
I was only curious about one thing: Who would get Petunia?
We filed into the library; our family's lawyer perched behind my father's desk, folder of paperwork in hand. Before the lawyer could even speak, Meredith Hale had already begun.
"Well obviously Petunia will come with me to live, surely." Meredith was middle aged non-magical, with small beady eyes and a thickly powdered, meaty face. An expression of haughty disdain turned her nose up and gave her the look of someone who perpetually smelled something awful.
I silently prayed she wouldn't. Meredith never had children, never would have children, and wouldn't ever deserve children.
"No of course not, Petunia will come and be with me in Brigham along with Lily." Aunt Felicity snapped.
"Lily?" Meredith laughed, "Why would you want to take in that- that witch!"
I clenched my teeth together as well as my fists in a furious attempt to refrain from doing something I might regret.
"Yes, Meredith, I will be taking Petunia and Lily. Why? It is simple, because I love both of those girls regardless of the magical abilities they do or do not posses." Aunt Felicity glared at Meredith, pointing a long finger at both Petunia and I.
"You are just like your brother, their father was a freak," Meredith spat "I only regret that when he died he did not take his freak daughter with him. My Carolina, rest her soul, must have been put under a spell to marry such a –such a thing"
With a speed I had not known Petunia to posses, she spun around and glowered over Meredith, her face mere inches from our oversized second aunt. I felt my eyebrows rise in surprise.
"Lily is not a freak, Aunt Meredith." Petunia growled. "She is my sister."
Aunt Meredith stepped back in surprise, the force of Petunia's voice startling her as well as scaring her. I watched on in horror as Petunia swung back her hand and brought it forward, striking Meredith across the face.
Shocked at what she had done, Petunia stumbled backwards, eyes wide with fright. Meredith gasped in pain and clutched her now vibrantly red cheek.
"Well," Aunt Meredith snarled back, her voice dripping with venom. "It's no wonder why my sweet Carolina died, having to put up with such demon children. You should be sent to prison, you're the reason she's dead!"
"Aunt Meredith, you should leave now." Her nephew, a man around his mid twenties stepped up, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her forcefully towards the door. She howled with rage and pushed through the door, slamming it shut with such ferocity it shook the shelves in the room.
"Ehm." The lawyer coughed. He was a hawkish man with sandy hair and large glasses. He looked put off and not sure where to start after such a disturbing scene. Still in shock, I looked around the room. Petunia was nursing her hand against her chest, Aunt Felicity smiling brightly beside her.
"Should we begin now?" The lawyer asked cautiously, scanning the room to make sure no one else was going to turn to blows. Petunia sunk into a chair next to the desk, I took my seat next to her and grabbed her hand once more.
It didn't come as a surprise that most everything was split between Petunia and I. College and Trust Funds, saving accounts and stock. The Manor was left to Aunt Felicity who, instead of returning to Birgham, would be staying to take care of Petunia and the Manor. Several cousins received a small salary; the man who escorted Meredith out was bequeathed several family heirlooms and a sizeable portion of land in the north.
"Now, I have a few private matters to settle between Lily, Petunia and their aunt."
As everyone filed out of the room, some disappointed and some moderately pleased with the outcome, I tried hard to think of how to tell Petunia.
"Now, Lily, seeing that you are well passed both the Muggle and Magical adult age, having just turned twenty a few months prior, you are no longer under any laws to abide by your aunt, or this contract, but it is your mothers deepest wish for you to continue on in the wizarding world."
I nodded, I knew that already.
"Am I correct that you have taken both your N.E. and O.W.L's, via home tutor and ministry correspondence?" I nodded again. "Good, with that being settled it makes my job much easier. I'm only a squib, you know." He winced as he said the word.
I shot a glance toward Petunia, who seemed oddly fine with this information. Leaving the Muggle world meant leaving the manor, it meant leaving her.
"The money your mother has left you will ensure a very, very comfortable life. I have taken the liberty to transfer some of your inheritance into your Gringotts vault, with the presumption that you will be making your way into the wizarding world as soon as possible?"
"Yes, sir, that is correct."
"Well that is, I think, all that needed to be covered. If Ms. Hale could just sign and witness this document- there, please, yes-and once again," he said, Aunt Felicity hastily scrawling her name on several pages of parchment, "if there are any questions at all, magical or legally, your aunt has my card and I'd be happy to help with anything you require. Have a good day ladies."
I waited for the door to close after his departure to turn to Petunia. Aunt Felicity took one look at my face and made her own excuse to leave the room.
"Petunia…" I once again found myself at a loss for words. "I know this is confusing for you, I know that everything is changing so fast and I-"
"It's- It's okay, Lily." Petunia gave a tremulous smile. "I think I've known for a while."
"I'm not abandoning you." I told her.
She nodded shakily and I reached out to pull her into a hug. I felt the first quake of her cries in her shoulders and squeezed tighter.
"I have to go, Pet. Do you understand?" I pushed back to read her face.
"I know, I do." Petunia mumbled. She held her bottom lip between her teeth and hastily wiped at her eyes.
"I'm glad you're going, I'm happy for you, honest." She said.
"Aunt Felicity will take care you of, and I'll be back all the time. Just say the words and I'll be back and I can take care of you."
"Lily, I'm fifteen, I should be old enough to take care of myself." Her expression was a little annoyed. It took me a moment to realize how much she'd grown in the last week. She was going to be sixteen in a few months, she really wasn't the little girl who still needed me to tuck her into bed at night or plait her hair for ballet.
"You've been so strong throughout all of this, Pet. I'm very proud of you."
"Could I come and see you? I could come and stay for the Hols, and the weekends, and random days."
"I believe so. I'm not sure, considering you're a muggle, but I don't see how they could stop you from staying. It's not like they can keep track." I really had no idea about wizarding laws.
"Then I'm coming to stay sometime." Petunia decided, smiling. "When do you leave?"
"Tonight."
Her smile faltered.
"I'll leave tomorrow." I changed my mind. I could give myself one last night in my home, with my sister. I could prolong my promise by one day, to ease the goodbye.
"What are you going to do... you know- in the magical world?"
"I don't know... I suppose I'll take a few classes and just get to meet some people like myself." Lie. I was going to fulfill the promise I made to my mother, I was going to track down the men that killed my father and I was going to fight.
"That sounds like fun." She told me, leaning her head on my shoulder. "I'll bet you make loads of friends and never want to come back."
"I'd always come back for you," I told her honestly, "you're the most important person to me."
"You're the most important person to me, too." She said.
"Shall we go find where Aunt Felicity has wandered off to?" I asked after a while.
"Let's just stay in here a little longer." She said. "Just for a bit."
I kissed the top of her head.
"Anything for you."