Remembering Lily
When I first met Lily Mckinnon, we were both ten. My father was the U.S.A. ambassador to London, so my family was in London for the year. I attended Easton
Academy for Girls, a posh London school.
It was just one of those cold November days that my family was so familiar with, having come from Minneapolis. I had only been at the Academy for two months, but I had already discovered all of the reigning cliques. Marigold Christopherson, a slightly overweight girl who was intensely stupid, ran the main one. I soon discovered not to cross Marigold. No one wanted to cross her, because she could beat up any of the girls at the school. Also, her father was incredibly rich: he worked for a company called Grunnings that made drills, so Marigold was spoiled beyond belief. So it was pretty unfortunate for me that Marigold decided that she didn't like me very much on my first day at my new school.
On that dreary November day, I was in a hurry, as the warning bell had already rung, and I wanted to be on time for my English Literature class. Unfortunately, I
wasn't really paying attention to where I was going. I crashed headlong into another girl in the standard school uniform (Blue blazer, white shirt, and navy-and-hunter green plaid skirt), also in a hurry, but going in another direction.
Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I said to the girl. Her books and papers were flying down the hallway as we spoke.
Oh I'm fine, just a little startled, she answered. She was rather pretty. She had medium length reddish gold hair, and bluish-green eyes. The most unusual thing about her appearance, I noticed as she brushed her bangs out of her eyes, was a thin scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on her forehead. Compared to my plain, straight brown hair and commonplace hazel eyes, she looked downright exotic.
Just then, a teacher, Professor Rowen, peered out into the hallway. Oh no, she said. Girls, get your things, and I'll give you passes to your next class.
We scooped up the last of the papers and walked into Professor Rowen's empty office. I gave her my name and class. Samantha Halloway. Professor Baelar's English
Literature Class. Professor Rowen tore the yellow slip off a pad of similar forms. Ah, Lily. We meet once again. Will you be joining me for lunch again today?
The girl smiled. Sure, Professor. I'll see you at noon?
Of course, Lily. Your friend here is also welcome. And where are you going?
Professor Baelar's, same as Samantha.
Okay girls, you're set. See you at noon!
We left her classroom and turned left and walked down the long corridor filled with classroom after classroom. said the girl, I now know who you are, but
you don't know who I am. I'm Lily Mckinnon.
I take it that you aren't one of Marigold's gang?
I trust that you aren't either?
We both burst into uncontrollable giggles.
Marigold is my cousin, the girl gasped, still laughing. I live in the cupboard under the stairs. I am proudly her mortal enemy. We both cracked up again.
I'm so sorry! But why are you living with them and not with your parents?
The girl's eyes clouded up. My parents were killed when I was just a baby. That's how I got this scar.
I'm sorry. Really. I am.
It's okay. It was a long time ago.
We continued down the hall in silence.
* * * * *
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it was lunchtime. I grabbed my lunchbox and hurried down to Professor Rowen's room. I was all too tired of eating
alone.
Lily and Professor Rowen were already there. Professor Rowen was eating a hot lunch and Lily was eating a peanut butter sandwich and carrot sticks. My mother
had given me a Thermos of Spaghetti-O's, a luxury I desperately missed from the United States, cookies, an apple, and some juice. I opened the sack of cookies.
Cookie, anyone? They both refused, so I munched on a cookie while listening to their discussion.
How are the Christophersons treating you, Lily?
Oh, the usual, replied Lily, I'm just the mysterious person who lives in the cupboard under the stairs. The last time I came home with a note from school, the one about Professor Hectare's hair turning purple, I got three weeks in the cupboard. That's why I couldn't come and help you in your garden.
I noticed a brief look of understanding flicker across Professor Rowen's face. This made no sense to me. Understanding how a teacher's hair turning purple? But
I kept listening anyway.
Samantha? How is life in England treating you?
I snapped back to my senses and told them about life in Minneapolis where snow fell each winter and my old school was only two blocks away, grateful to my
newfound friend Lily for changing the subject.
* * * * *
The rest of the year flew by, now that I had a new friend. Each day Lily and I ate lunch in Professor Rowen's room, and we always worked on our homework together, usually at my house, but every once-in-a-while we'd go to Lily's. Today, we went to
Lily's. When we entered, Marigold was raving about Dudley Dursley, some guy she had met at Lily's Uncle Martin's company picnic. He had sent a letter and his picture. As we walked down the hall, she shouted after Lily, He's got a weird cousin with a strange scar, too. Harry Potter's his name. Dreadfully commonplace name, don't you think? Dudley beats him up all the time! Me and Dudley have so much in common
After we were out of earshot, Lily rolled her eyes. She's totally stuck on this guy. Dudley this and Dudley that. I think Dudley's actually a pig in disguise, I giggled. Now this Harry Potter sounds somewhat decent if he hates Dudley We both were
laughing so hard that we had to run for the cupboard to stifle our laughter.
* * * * *
After final exams were over, and school had let out for the summer, Lily began spending more and more time over at my house. My parents adored her. They thought
she was a sweet girl, and wished as much as I did that this poor girl hadn't had so much happiness stolen from her at such a young age. First her parents dead, then she had to live in that awful cupboard. But there was just something about Lily, this optimism or something that made her such a great person to be around.
Lily appeared at my house one day, more distraught then she normally was. I asked her what was wrong. It's just them! she burst out. I got a letter in the mail today. It was addressed to me. It even had my cupboard on it! Then Uncle Martin took it, read it, and turned really pale. He showed it to Aunt Virginia, and she turned all pale, too. Then they threw me and Marigold out. Then Marigold went upstairs, but I stayed downstairs. I was trying to listen at the door, but I couldn't, not after their first sentence. They were talking about my mother, Samantha! They called her a nutcase, and a bad egg, and a witch, like she was evil or something. But she couldn't have been, I know it!
She was crying so hard, I thought she would burst a blood vessel or something, but she didn't.
All I want is that letter, Samantha! What did it say? How bad could it be?
I bit my lip. Well, all you'd have to do was get the mail tomorrow before your uncle. Why don't you go sit at the end of Magnolia Crescent tomorrow, and get the
letters for number 7 first? Then you could hide the letter with the green ink, and put the rest in your mail slot. No one would know, except for you and me!
she said. Thanks so much! She ran back outside to plan her great escapade the next morning.
She ran in the next morning around nine, laughing so hard she was crying.
Did you get the letter? I asked.
she choked. But I stepped on Uncle Martin going outside, and he thinks a magic dinosaur stepped on him!
We laughed until my bleary-eyed parents came in to see what had happened. When explained the incident to them, all four of us laughed for hours.
* * * * *
Lily came in again and again, telling my family about the amusing attempts of the mysterious letter writer. First, twenty-four eggs had been slipped into the house, each containing a letter, and then the downstairs bathroom had been filled with letters.
Finally, the fireplace had exploded with letters. That was the time that Uncle Martin had finally exploded.
He was going to protect his family, so he was taking them to an island in the Atlantic Ocean the next day, with a storm predicted. Lily personally thought that he had lost his mind, and I agreed with her. But I also wondered. What could be so important about that letter that he would risk his family's life to keep Lily from seeing it?
* * * * *
Lily came back three days later. She appeared at our doorstep, grinning, at about three in the afternoon. She dragged me up to my room about as fast as a human
being could move without tripping down the stairs. Smiling, she handed me a copy of the letter. Got one! she said triumphantly.
I skimmed the letter, and looked up, my mouth hanging open. You're a witch?
I get to go to boarding school, and stay for seven years. Both my parents went to Hogwarts, that's the magical school, of course, and I even found out the truth about my parents!
I was dying for Lily to finish her story.
My parents, they were killed by the most evil wizard in centuries, Lord Voldemort. The wizard came just to kill my dad and I, but my mom sacrificed her life for
me. Then, the wizard turned to me, to kill me. He was already weak, because he had just been to some other people's home, the Potter's. The same thing happened there, and their little boy, Harry, survived the attack, and he has a scar, like mine. So, when he turned to me, he disappeared. His powers were gone, and he just disappeared! All because of me!
Her story left me speechless.
Her voice fell. I leave September First.
That's the day I go back to the States.
Thanks. For everything.
It was nothing.
Samantha, when we're both fifteen, let's both meet here. Right in front of this house. Okay?
All right.
We shook hands on it.
* * * * *
September first rolled by too soon for my liking. Lily left for school, and I returned to Minneapolis. Lily sent letters, lots of them. She had an owl that was like a passenger pigeon; it delivered her mail for her. Its name was Halloway, after my family, and me, and it was really nice. As the months and years rolled by, the letters became fewer and fewer. But the letters I did get were positively magical. Lily told me that she had met the Harry Potter that Marigold had told her about, and the two were the most popular kids in their year because of the defeat of the Dark Lord. She had learned to fly a broomstick, and she was seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Her friend
Harry was keeper. She had two other great friends, a girl named Hermione, and a boy named Ron. Lord Voldemort had returned, and had been defeated once again by Lily and Harry. She had been top in both Charms and Transfiguration. She loved her school, and missed me.
* * * * *
I was fifteen, and I had come to London to keep a promise that I had made five years ago. I was beginning to think that Lily had forgotten, but then I saw four kids coming down the sidewalk, talking and laughing.
I stood up from the curb where I had been sitting. The one girl in the middle had reddish-gold hair, and blue-green eyes. She was medium height, and looked like a five-years-older Lily Mckinnon. A tall boy with red hair and a long nose, a girl with bushy brown hair and hazel eyes, and a boy with rather messy black hair and very green eyes accompanied her. She squinted into the bright sunshine.
Samantha? Samantha Halloway?
She ran over, followed by her three friends.
Samantha, it's so great to see you again! she cried. I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter, my friends from school.
I shook each of their hands. She talks about you all the time, said Ron mischievously, grinning.
Ronald Weasley, you know perfectly well that I only mention her at appropriate times. Usually only about once a day Lily grinned, and Hermione laughed.
Come on, guys. Let's get going. We should hurry if we want to make our dinner reservations, said Harry. All five of us linked our arms and walked down the
street, into the unknown future.
A/N: This is my first attempt at a fan fiction. Please, send all comments to my e-address at princess_halleys_comet@yahoo.com. If you want to send a flame, don't bother, because they aren't used for anything anyway...
Disclaimer: None of this is mine but Samantha (A.K.A. Narrator Girl) and Lily McKinnon. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Bloomsbury publishing. Cheers!