Lily –
It was raining. How ironic, Lily Evans thought as she ran a finger down the length of her ice cold window. It was December 24, yet the sky refused to stop crying. Refused to turn beautiful at last.
Lily realized her eyes were wet, and wiped them angrily with the back of her hand.
"Please stop raining," she willed the clouds, drawing a heart on the wet glass before her. "Dad wouldn't have wanted it to rain on Christmas. He used to love the snow."
The bullets of water pounded harder and harder, drowning out her pleas. Lily closed the curtains.
It was Christmas Eve, but Lily was alone. Trapped inside a small white house with dark navy shutters, hiding in the house that was no longer a home.
The rain kept on.
Lily turned on a desk lamp, and pulled a long, silver kitchen knife out from under her mattress.
It gleamed as the light reflected off the silver metal, flashing a warning of danger. Lily placed the blade on her wrist.
She inhaled sharply as her skin was ripped apart, almost enjoying the pain as blood ran down her fingertips. This was something that no one could take away from her. She could finally be in charge of what she did, finally be in control of how she felt. Lily picked an old t-shirt off the ground and wrapped it around her arm to staunch the bleeding.
The front door slammed suddenly, and Lily almost dropped her knife in shock. Her fingers trembled and she threw the blade under her bed. Then she ran to the wall and pulled her legs to her chest, her breathing ragged as her bedroom door was thrown open.
"Merry Christmas," Lily whispered to herself as the toll of a clock sounded throughout the room.
--
James –
"Jamesey is in love!" Sirius sang, batting his eyelashes and dancing around James' bedroom.
"Shut up, Sirius," James mumbled as he sealed a letter to his girlfriend of two weeks. "You know she's not gonna last long, anyway."
Sirius pouted. "You and your silly little poptarts."
James rolled his eyes. "Poptarts?" He asked suspiciously.
Sirius nodded. "They're hot, they're quick, and they look pretty cheap," he said honestly, then barked in laughter at his own joke.
"What would I do without you?" James asked sarcastically. Sirius grinned.
"So what's this I hear about the new addition to your family, by the way?" Sirius asked, suddenly recalling a conversation he'd overheard. "You trying to replace me already?" Sirius wiped away an invisible tear.
James grunted. "Mom found some girl on the street last week. She had a wand on her, so she took her to St. Mungo's. Anyway, she decided to go overboard and let her stay here till we go back to Hogwarts."
Sirius smiled. "Yeah, that's Mrs. Potter. She just loves us troubled teens."
James laughed, but secretly grew anxious as he remembered the life his best friend had left behind.
Sirius noticed, but looked away instantly, and changed the subject.
"So what if she's someone we know? I wonder if she's in our grade," he thought aloud.
James nodded. "Yeah, Mum said she was a sixth year. Don't know what house, though."
Quite abruptly, a sharp rap sounded on James' bedroom door.
"James! Sirius!" Mrs. Potter called angrily, sighing as James' owl Edward began to hoot indignantly.
"Yes mother?" The boys answered, rolling their eyes.
"Get to bed!" She cried. "It's three in the morning, and your father and I are trying to sleep!" Then she scurried off down the hallway, her small feet pattering lightly across the wood flooring.
James turned off his light and jumped onto his bed. Sirius followed suit.
"Night, Prongs," Sirius mumbled, drifting easily into sleep. James, however, felt a strange sense of unease as he threw his blankets around him. The Potter mansion was huge; he could avoid this "troubled teen" quite easily if he wanted to. But something in his gut told him that this wasn't just another patient. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was different; that something big was just beginning… and he would be a part of it.
--
When James awoke, it was cold. He shivered, ripped off his blankets, and changed into a sweater and a pair of jeans. Sirius had already woken, James noted with surprise. Then, checking his clock, he realized that it was almost noon. Even Sirius didn't sleep that late.
"Shit," James whispered to himself as his eyes reread the screen. In eight minutes, that girl would be arriving. James involuntarily reached for his hair and ran his fingers through the mass of hair. Then James walked sleepily out of his bedroom, down the main staircase, and into the kitchen.
"Hey, Prongs," Sirius greeted him, turning away from Twinky, the family house-elf, with a smile on his face. "Twinky here made pancakes. You wanna go heat up a few more for James?" He asked her.
Twinky nodded happily. "Yes of course, sir. Yes of course."
James sat down beside Sirius at the kitchen table and drummed his fingers across the dark wood.
"Five minutes," he muttered, his eyes finding the clock on the opposite wall.
Sirius nodded, his dark bangs falling into his eyes.
"Yeah, pretty cool, right?" He answered, before delving into conversation. James merely grunted at the appropriate moments.
Twinky returned a moment later with a plateful of food in her tiny arms.
"I has brought food, Master," she said excitedly, placing the dish down before him. James had taken only a few bites, however, when the doorbell rang loudly, echoing ominously throughout the room.
"I'll get it!" Sirius announced, standing abruptly.
James closed his eyes as Sirius swung the front door open.
There was silence.
James opened his eyes and blinked, taking in the two figures before him. His mother, Anna, her black hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. She smiled warmly at Sirius and took a step forward, gesturing for the small girl behind her to come in.
"Evans?" Sirius whispered, his eyes blank with shock.
The girl's smile dropped abruptly. "I didn't know you'd be here too," she answered, looking away. She said this without anger, without frustration. Without, even, the layer of ice that had always coated her words. She spoke with vulnerability. Her voice even shook a little, and she wrapped her arms around herself.
Almost like she was trying to hold herself together. She was fragile, porcelain, and about to break.
I shook these thoughts away.
Mrs. Potter, sensing the tension in the air, smiled even more warmly at Lily.
"Your room is right up that staircase, dear," she told her. "The third door on the right." Lily nodded, grabbed her school trunk, and made her way upstairs. Mrs. Potter pulled her wand out and levitated the trunk to follow behind her.
"I wouldn't try and carry that all the way up the stairs, you might get hurt," she said lightly, though worry was laced in her words.
As soon as Lily was out of earshot, Mrs. Potter turned towards James and Sirius, her eyes burning with anger.
"I can tell you aren't the best of friends," she whispered venemously, "but Lily is our guest, and should be welcomed as such."
James and Sirius cringed under her glare.
"In all due respect Mrs. Potter," Sirius began unsurely, "she does have a reputation for being a bitch."
"Bad move, Padfoot," James whispered into his ear as Mrs. Potter's eyes narrowed. Her voice, however, was surprisingly calm when she spoke.
"Lily is one of the kindest people I have ever met. Did you ever think that it's not she who hates the world, but the world that hates her?"
Sirius looked confused. "No one likes her because she's a jerk. Sure, we tried to get to know her; she is pretty, I'll give her that. But she ignored everyone. Pretended we all just didn't exist. And if anyone asked her about herself, she'd explode at them."
Mrs. Potter sighed. "Please," she begged, "be kind to her. It's only a few days. You might discover you aren't so different if you just give her a chance."
James nodded, but Sirius still looked unconvinced.
"We'll be good," James promised with a half-grin. Then he led Sirius up the stairs to his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.
"Wow."
"I know," Sirius agreed. Then the thrill of a mystery lit up his eyes. "I wonder why she's here. Why she was at the hospital, and all that. Do you think she'd tell us if we asked?"
James snorted.
Sirius exhaled loudly. "Yeah, I doubt it. But then again, that wouldn't be very fun, would it?"
James didn't laugh.
"I don't think this is our business," he exclaimed nervously. "It's probably personal."
Sirius, however, laughed in disbelief. "We're Marauders!" He cried, smaking James' arm. "We're supposed to get into everyone's business!"
James' door flew open, and a short red-haired girl peeked nervously into the room. She gasped when she saw the two, and her pale cheeks flushed red.
"I'm s-sorry!" She stuttered, her gaze locked on the floor. "I was trying to find the bathroom." She turned to scramble out of the room when a voice called her back.
"Evans?" James asked, surprising himself. "What happened?"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "So much for it being personal," he mumbled.
Lily paused, her emerald green eyes nervous. James stared into them, perplexed. Had her eyes always been that color? James stared harder, and her blush darkened.
She finally tore her eyes away, embarrased. "I-" she broke off. "I can't tell you," she decided, finally confident. "I can't trust you. You might hurt me," her voice broke, "and I can't risk that."
She turned away and strode down the hallway. James eyes trailed after her, wishing she would stay.
"That was weird," Sirius claimed after a moment, then opened his trunk and pulled out a piece of parchment. "I'm writing to Remus and Peter. This is so crazy."
James ignored him, however, and threw himself down on his king-sized bed, stuffing a pillow in his face. Her face burned in his eyes; her pale, beautiful skin, her soft, pink lips, her long, dark tendrils of red hair. James lay there, silent and unmoving, wondering why he even cared. Why it even mattered what had happened to Lily Evans. But he couldn't keep himself from wondering, couldn't help himself from worrying, couldn't stop himself from puzzling over the mystery that was Lily, and the secrets in her eyes.
