Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it. Only the plot belongs to me.
Sunday mornings are usually quiet and calm in the Potter household. The solitary shrill chirps of birds and the occasional whooshing of the wind were the indications of a drowsy family. The peace of the first Sunday in June, of the year 2019, was abruptly broken, when an owl flew into the living room and sat itself on the dining table. A brown owl, this was, and it was carrying a large letter in its beak, because that is what owls usually carry. A drowsy girl, of age 11, came down the stairs rubbing her eyes, quite obviously annoyed by the sudden intrusion on her sleep.
"What's all this commotion? Who're you?" she stopped when she noticed the bird; her eyes widened and her mouth bent into a smile when she saw what the owl was carrying. The bird cocked its head in confusion. She ran towards the table, and grabbed the letter from the owl, much to its chagrin, and furiously opened it.
"Yes! Finally! Mum, dad, come down! It's important." she shouted up the stairs. A scuffle was heard, then two face popped out from a room on the left side of the landing.
"What is it, dear?" asked the woman, the mother, obviously. She stepped down the stairs then made her way over to the table, where she took her daughter's hand and started reading the letter.
"Dear Miss Potter, we are pleased to inform you that you have a place at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on the first of September. We await your owl by no later than the thirty-first of July. Yours sincerely, Neville Longbottom, Deputy Headmaster.
"That's great, dear. Now we have to go shopping for all your stuff, come on. Harry? What's keeping you?"
"Nothing, Gin. Just trying to get this stupid hair in place!"
"You're such a girl, daddy. Nobody cares that your hair is so messy."
"Hey! You guys spend just as much time as I do!" they rolled their eyes, and made their way to the front door.
"We're going out, Harry. Lily just got her admission letter from Hogwarts."
"That's great, Lily bear!"
"You're gonna have to write that reply slip!"
"Oh, not again," groaned Harry. "I wrote the last one!"
"I know, but if you're gonna fuss about with your appearance all day, we'll never get time to get Lily her stuff!"
They heard an audible grumble from upstairs, and they shared a small giggle.
"Stay safe, Gin!" was heard as they stepped out onto the street. Lily held onto her mother as she pulled out her wand and they were sucked away into a tight rubber tube. They were here.
Street after street of restaurants, shops and other sights were what Lily was looking at right now. The wizarding central of wizarding London, Diagon Alley was always a sight to behold. Packed to the brim with witches and wizards, Diagon Alley was the place where you would go if you had something you wanted to buy.
"Come on, Lily. This way." Lily followed her mother through the streets. She stared around at all the shops, wondering what was inside them.
"Ah, quills. Here we are." Lily looked up. Amanuensis Quills. The shop was a drab maroon colour, with hardly any decorations at all. They inside wasn't much better either. Shelves upon shelves of different sized, coloured and designed quills could be seen. The shopkeeper stood up as they entered.
"Ah, Mrs Potter. How wonderful to see you again! Oh, another little Potter? Just got her letter?"
"Yes, Mr Malkin. How's the wife?"
"Yes, yes. She's fine. Always spending an awful long time in her dressing room. Uh, if you'd like to step this way. Now, little Miss Potter, what sort of quill do you normally use? Long? Short?"
"I'm not really sure..." Lily had never used a quill before. She always used the muggle pens that her brothers got her.
"Oh, alright then. Uh...here let me see your hand." She held out her hand, and the man took it and started inspecting it closely.
"Mmhm. You look like you write with ball-points a lot, don't you? You'd like a long quill, with a stubby grip." He let go and shuffled around in the shop for a few moments before taking a small box from one of the shelves. He handed it to her, saying, "I'm sure this will be to your liking."
She opened it and gasped when she saw the quill. The feather was light blue, with the tip sharpened with an ivory casing around it, which she presumed was the grip. The casing itself was adorned with intricate patterns all over it. The whole product was stunning.
"So?"
"I'll take it!" she looked at her mother with a wide smile. She smiled back.
"I never had such an extravagant quill like this one. Keep it safe and in good condition."
"Will do, mum!" After paying, Ginny took her daughter next door to Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. This store was more lively than the quill shop, and many more people were stood in and outside of it. They entered it, and Ginny went to the till, leaving Lily standing there on her own. People were drifting out of the shop, and then she saw him. In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale face was standing next a footstool, whilst a witch led a magical tape measure around him. He had short, blonde hair that was combed perfectly. His eyes, a bright blue, nearly silver, twinkled with humour as he turned his head in Lily's direction. She turned away quickly, blushing profusely, then quickly went to find her mother. She was standing next an elderly witch, who had a kind face and was holding out different sized robes for her mother to look at. Lily neared them, and Ginny turned her head.
"Here, Lily. Try these on for size. I think they'll fit you nicely." The elderly woman slipped the robes onto Lily, and started to walk around her, inspecting the size. It was a perfect fit.
"Why don't you wander a bit, Lily, while I pay for this." Lily just nodded, then exited the shop. Taking a deep breath, she stretched her arms out, only to hit someone. She turned abruptly, shocked to see the boy again, with a startled expression worn on his face.
"Careful there, wouldn't want to hurt anybody, would you?" He had a soft voice, similar to her father's when he was relaxed. His eyes were kind, and his mouth was bent upwards in a smirk. Lily hadn't realised she'd been staring at him until he spoke again.
"Father says you should apologise after you hit someone, it's common courtesy." He now had a slight arrogant tint in his voice, and Lily started having second thoughts. "I'm just messing with, girl. Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy." He held out his hand after his introduction.
"Lily. Lily Potter." She knew who he was from his name. Her father often mentioned the name Malfoy when he told his stories of the childhood. She knew, from those stories that Malfoy was often getting Harry into trouble, but after they graduated, had become a better person. She hoped it had passed onto his child too.
"Ah, another Potter." Lily rolled her eyes at this. "I know your brother, he's my friend."
"I know, he talks about you, you know."
"Does he now? And what does he say about me." Lily was about to answer when a tall, blonde man stepped into her view. He had a cane in his left hand, and various bags in his right.
"Hello, Father. I was just talking to Lily here. She's Albus' sister." The man looked surprised.
"I didn't know they spawned yet another child. Must be Weasley genes." he mused. Lily was shocked at his words. How dare he say such things, especially against her family. "I only jest. Is that your mother there, Lily? You better go before someone steals you away." Then, the two blondes strode away. She couldn't help but marvel at how similar Scorpius and his father looked. The way they dressed, the way they walked. It was as if they were twins, differing only in height. She knew this Scorpius. When her brother entered Hogwarts two years ago, he had been sorted into Slytherin. He was so upset, judging by his letter he sent home on the first day. Her father had tried to comfort him in his reply letter, but couldn't physically help him. By the summer, however, his fears seemed to have vanished, for he found friends in Slytherin. He talked of Scorpius and another boy whose name she could not recall. Her parents were very pleased, and had even invited the Malfoys round for dinner. The dinner never happened, but Albus often met up with Scorpius, and she had seen him once or twice last year. He looked so different now, in his third year at Hogwarts. She wondered what house she would be sorted into, and silently contemplated how it would be like if she was in Slytherin as well. Her big brother, James, was in his fifth year at Hogwarts and was sorted into Gryffindor, as were all the rest of her cousins. She wanted to be like Albus. Different.
"Lily!" Her mother called, looking out from the shop.
"Coming, mum!" Ginny was holding a large bag in her arms and they looked quite stuffed. "Do I really need that many robes?"
"Yes, it said so on the sheet." Just then, Lily's stomach started grumbling. She hadn't realised it had been that long since they woke up. Her mother glanced at her, then said, "Let's go home and make some lunch shall we?"
"What about my books?"
"Oh, We have spares at home, it's all fine. We'll get your wand tomorrow, when your father can accompany you. He knows more about wands than me." They linked arms and were sucked into the tight rubber tubing that was apparition, once again.
Back at the house, Lily was sitting on her bed when a knock on her door was heard.
"Come in." she said, and in strode Albus. Her brother sat down next to her, and handed her a book. She opened it, expecting some sort of prank, but instead it was a photo album with none of the pages filled.
"It's a photo album. I thought you might want it. After all, James got you that camera, so I thought it would be nice if you had some place to store those photos." Although James was very kind to her, Albus was the quiet, thoughtful one. He always knew how to cheer her up when she was down. He knew what presents to get her. Always. James, on the other hand, was loud and boisterous. It wasn't too bad, but it could get annoying quickly. She hugged him.
"Thanks, Al. I couldn't have asked for anything better." He didn't say anything, just hugged her back. After a while, he got up and exited the room. She stared at the photo album and promised herself that she would make the most out of the camera, and thus the photo album. She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and musing over how great her family was. Her eyelids, drooping closer and closer together, signified her tiredness and she yawned. She fell asleep like that, lying with her back on the bed, hair sprawled out behind her, like a fan.
At midnight, her father came into her room, checking to see if she was asleep. He found her, snoring quietly, clutching a photo album. He shook his head and smiled to himself before tucking her into her duvet. She snuggled into it, then peeked one eye open.
"Thanks dad." She smiled at him before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep again.