The Extraordinary Life and Times of
Lily Evans
Disclaimer: VERY IMPORTANT! This story is completely by the storyline of Mary Hooper's The Remarkable Life and Times of Eliza Rose. The plot is most definitely hers, and I am by no way even considering taking credit for its brilliance. The original book is absolutely fascinating, and most likely better than anything that I'll be able to write, but for those of you that have read the book, I will try to make it close to the quality of the brilliant Ms. Hooper. As for the characters, some will be actual historic figures and other will be my creation…but most of them will be J.K. Rowling's played into the characters of Mary Hooper's book. And for those of you who have not read the book, you really should! Especially if you like the story that I am improvising, but there will be some things that are different, like minor characters and places, but the plot will remain the same.
Prologue:
Wiltshire, 1655
The bedroom in the fortress is lavish and elegant, with rich designs spread throughout the room. If one were to look inside, one would see large and beautiful tapestries and paintings that hung on the walls, but the most eye-catching thing in the room had to be the over-sized canopy bed, decorated in gold silk and carved mahogany. However, the occupants in the room did not notice any of these trivial matters because as of the moment, childbirth was taking place, and as with childbirths back in the "old days", this particular one was very closed and private. The heavy draperies were shut tightly so that not even one strand of sunlight was allowed to emanate into the room. Several candles provided the light in the stifling room, and on a nearby cherry-wood stand was a large white china bowl filled with lavender and rose-petals for a light fragrance.
A solicitous woman (quite elegant and striking) within opens the door to a maid carrying a large pot of coal, but does not allow the maid to enter.
"Give it to me, quickly now," says the woman in a hushed manner.
"Dear madam, it's quite heavy and dirty," the maid replied, quite surprised. "It would be best—"
"My daughter is the most important thing at this moment, and she is not to be disturbed. It matters not if I get dirty."
"How does my mistress?" the maid asked, trying to peer inside.
"She does well," the woman replied shortly, preparing to shut the door.
"But madam, are you sure you do not want me to send for a midwife? Or perhaps a doctor? Or even the housekeeper?"
"No, but thank you for your kind words," the woman said firmly, shutting the door in the persistent maid's face.
"Who was that?" a younger woman with dark red hair asks.
"Shh—no one of importance. Just a chamber maid with coals."
"Perhaps she—"
"Hush, darling!" the older woman says quickly. "Do not worry yourself; she saw nothing." She goes over and smoothes down the hair of the younger woman, who was in the final stages of labor. She waits until the pains have decreased before putting a cup to her lips.
"What is it?"
"Just drink it. It's only an herbal drink to give you strength for the final stages of birth. 'Tis from my own apothecary."
The younger woman groans quietly. She chances a glance at one of the tapestries near the other side of the room. "The babe—is it still there?" she whispers.
"Of course he is, safe and quiet."
"What if he doesn't remain quiet? What if he starts crying?"
"It matters not, for it will only be me and you that hears him cry." She puts a cloth to the young woman's forehead.
"Is Petunia well?"
"She is fine and happy and is with her nurse at the minute. You must not think too much…just concentrate on this child—"
The younger woman suddenly turn her head into the pillow, biting for fear of screaming, as a labor contraction occurred.
"Soon. It will be very soon," murmurs the older woman. "Not much longer."
"You've been saying that for hours!"
Brisk, masculine footsteps echoed outside the hallway. The door opens, and a man dressed in resplendent clothes stalked in the room. "Has my son arrived?"
"Soon. It shall be soon." The older woman exchanges a surreptitious glance with the younger, more anxious woman.
The man walks closer. His cleft chin and broad shoulders are in the shape of nobility, but his watery eyes and large forehead contrasted the noble figure sharply. His hands were still bloody and red from the hunt from which he had returned.
"What? Still soon?"
"Yes, soon," the bedded woman said shakily. "I'm quite positive. Soon."
"Where are the midwives? The neighbors? Where are the people to attend the birth of this boy?"
"My daughter insists on complete silence this time around," hissed the older woman. "She made it adamant about me being the only one attending this birth." She glances up at the man, and strains a smile. "It's all raucous and cantankerous with the neighbors here, and as I'm sure you would know, my good sir, she needs the rest."
"Custom is custom though," the man says, but shrugs. He stands proudly. "A son! My son! I've waited for a long time for this birth." He looks scrutinizingly from one woman to the next. "But you are sure it will be a boy this time?"
"Indeed," the older one says with confidence. "My daughter has taken every one of my herbal drinks the minute the baby was conceived. Various wise women we have consulted have also ensured that we shall be having a boy."
"Be it may," said the man. "But if—"
"My good sir!" the woman replied. "Please have care to not alarm my daughter at this time. Do not vituperate her with threats! I will assure you, sir, that this child shall be a boy. There will be no need to throw my daughter to the streets." She stares at him frostily while speaking. A scream echoes in the room, and the man hastily leaves, ordering to be informed the minute the child is born.
As his echoes retreats, the young woman moves her head slightly. "I screamed so he would leave us in peace."
"Well-placed, my daughter," the older woman smiles.
"It was out of fear of noise coming from the—"
"Hush! Just forget the child in the passageway. It shall all be over soon."
The pains become more frequent and steady as the hours tick by. The older woman, sensing that it was time, bolts the lock on the bedroom door. She murmurs encouragement to her daughter, massaging her slowly, spreading her legs.
Finally, with the last push, came a beautiful, angelical child. Even before the cord was cut, the young woman heaved to push herself up and look at the child. Framed with dark red locks, and the greenest of emerald green eyes, the child is lovely. Except…
"Another girl." Her mother shakes her head wearily.
"Let me see…please!" the woman cries frantically.
"No, it is best if you do not."
"Is she healthy? Is she beau—beautiful?" the woman asks, her voice breaking.
"She's perfect. Healthy in size, and no limbs missing." The older woman promptly wraps the baby in silk cloth.
"Mother…please, just let me—" the woman pleads, and the other sighs, handing the delicate life towards her. "So different from Petunia! Yet…so much belonging to me…"
"Hurry!" the older woman urges.
"My poor, sweet child," the young woman says softly. "How will you be treated by your new momma? Still loved as if with me? Will she tell you fairy tales?" She looks at the baby for the final time, stretching as if memorizing her every feature. "Once upon a time," she sings softly. "there was a lovely child born in a castle…"
Chapter One
London, after fifteen years
"Yes, my precious. Come here…"
It was that scratchy voice that Lily woke up to but she did not have any recollection of knowing it. The voice was close to her, but, wanting to feign sleep, she lay still and silent until she could get a bearing on her surroundings.
"That's right, lovely. Into the box you go…"
Surely it was not her being addressed! Into a box? How juvenile! But then where was she? Definitely not in her cozy room at home. It had never been this uncomfortable there, and cloying, odorous smells were making her nauseous. Lily felt with the pads of her fingers the texture of the floor she was on. Slimy and damp…thank goodness she was laying on her arm or her face would have been touching the wet and nasty floor as well.
Suddenly, a bang made her open her eyes. "Got you, precious!" said the same crackly voice, with a touch of laughter. "How precious and sweet, yes you are!" the voice crooned. The owner of the voice was a skinny thing of bones and rags, toothless, and grimy. The woman was still cooing at what seemed to Lily like a rat in a box. But who was she?
Lily shook her head to clear herself. She was in a dark, low ceilinged room with twenty or so other women. Some were chained to walls with iron fetters, and some lay on the floor in an ungainly heap. Still, others were on hard pallets; it was hard to say who was dead and who was alive. Yet, she couldn't remember arriving here. What could she remember? Ahh…yes…it was coming back to her.
After her escape from her stepmother in Wiltshire, Lily had tagged many rides to come to London. Being cold and hungry, when she saw that delicious delicacy of mutton pie, her mouth immediately became wet with saliva. And, being cold and hungry, she remembered slowly reaching out and grabbing one, putting it to her mouth…before a cry of "Thief!" Taking one more look at her dim surroundings, with no windows nor clean air, she came to the conclusion that she was in prison. Ah…yes…prison.
Her stomach ached with hunger. And what happened to the pasty? Well, despite her "stealing" it, it seemed to have never made it into her mouth, for just as the crumbling dish was placed to her mouth, the rampantly outraged shopkeeper chased her, yelling, "Varmint! Beast! Girl, come back here! Stealing food from honest people! I seen your kind around here!" And, Lily sighed, she remembered being dragged through the streets by the magistrates, looking at the pastry that was left far behind in the mean shopkeepers hands. She should have at least saved it for later, which in present terms meant now, and not be starving, like she was…right now.
Her eyes slid once again to the object, or objects, of her consternation, startled when realizing that the thing really was a large, disease-ridden rat. He was trapped in box and frantically trying to paw himself out, fruitlessly, of course.
"Don't you set your eyes on him missy! He's mine!" the owner of the voice shrieked.
"I beg your pardon?" inquired Lily, half-politely. Her voice sounded dry and cracked. How long has it been since she arrived here?
" 'Cuz he's mine. Mine. Mine. My rat," the old woman screeched. "My precious."
"He—He's your pet?" Lily asked, astounded.
"No, of course not sweetie." The woman's toothless mouth formed into a deranged smile. "He's my dinner! I'll feed him, yes, I'll feed him good, 'til he's nice and plump and fat, and then I'll eat him!"
Lily shuddered with revulsion.
"Oh, don't be such a lady, darlin'," the woman cackled. " 'Cuz you won't be for long. A month in here and you'll be happy to eat my precious too. Perhaps even your own leg."
"What is this place? Or where?"
"Why, darlin', you're in Clink Prison! 'Tis grandiose and famous, no? Haven't you ever been here before?"
Lily shook her head slowly. "I just arrived in London a few days ago, I'm assuming. How long have I been out?"
"An entire day, or maybe even two. They just threw you in here and in that position you stayed."
Lily tried to work out what date it was. She left her home, well, not home anymore, last Tuesday in early May, walked for four days, traveled in hay carts for one, before arriving in London and landing herself in prison. Alright, that was a start…
"So it's Sunday? And 'tis still May?"
"Nope, not Sunday. On Sunday, they give us meat and we hear the church bells. But other than Sunday, all other days are the same here. No tellin' the difference."
Suddenly, Lily heard a chorus of shouts outside, and bent over to hear it more clearly, her dark, luscious red hair falling over her shoulders. Eyes gleaming, the woman leaned over to touch her hair, but her touch was so filthy and dirty that Lily involuntarily backed away. The woman cackled. "Oh, don't mind me dearie. Your hair is lovely, red and shiny as ruby, very rare in these parts. You could sell that, you know." Her voice dropped several notches. "In fact, you still owe me a favor. The others would've cut off your hair while you was sleeping, but I stopped 'em. I stopped 'em you see."
"They were going to what?!" Lily cried in alarm, as she tried to tuck her hair back, but seeing as she had no cap, her hair just spilled back down in loose curls. She backed away hurriedly from the woman, who was now muttering something about how her hair would've fetched quite a few silver shillings.
Drawn to the noise coming from outside of the cell, Lily hugged the wall close to her body and edged towards the yard. There she saw several women, some hunched and some calling out to the people of the street. The ground beneath her feet felt gravelly and crunchy for some reason, and she nearly let out a horrific scream when she saw that her bare feet were stepping on lice, crunching them between her toes. They covered the entire ground, and Lily traced it back to several women who were itching and scratching. Her form shivered and reached out to comb her fingers through her head, as if combing out the lice.
Outside, the sun was shining brightly. How ironic, that she was stuck in one of London's most famous prisons on such a beautiful day. She squinted her eyes, and as she slowly became adjusted, she could make out several groups of women. There were as many as two hundred women and men just in the yard alone; many of the clusters were near the gate of the prison. The yard, Lily realized, was below ground level, and when two pairs of feet came into view, all of the groups started begging and crying for just a few pence. "Please, kind sir and madam, just a penny to spare! Just a penny!"
The owner of these pairs of legs paused, just for a moment, and stooped low for a just a moment, going straight on his way. Then, as Lily looked closer, she realized that the benevolent man had dropped a few bronze coins down, which explained why all the people were scrambling on the ground. Those who were lucky were elbowed continuously in hope that they would drop their "well-earned" prize.
One of the girls who had snatched up a coin came up to Lily and held it up to her, smiling. "A penny, 'tis but a penny…but even this penny will buy me three good fish for my evening tea tonight."
Lily smiled back at her, or at least whatever she could do, as she was absolutely faint from hunger. The girl looked about her seventeen years of age and looked nice, and though her dress was worn from the time in prison, it was nowhere near as dirty as anyone else's. In fact, she was the most sanitary looking being other than Lily herself in the prison.
"You're new here, aren't you?" the girl asked. "You came in yesterday, but you were sleeping so I didn't want to wake you."
Lily nodded, ruefully rubbing the large bump on her head. "I don't think I was sleeping, more like knocked how from the manhandling here, for when I awoke I remembered nothing, not even where I was."
"I'll bet you know where you are now."
"Yes, unfortunately," Lily answered, a little dejectedly.
The girl looked down at Lily's bare feet, which she tried unsuccessfully to hide, seeing as they were covered in broken lice parts. "They took your shoes off for money as well. You're lucky you had shoes, or they would've taken your clothes."
"What am I going to do without shoes then?"
"Oh, you'll get some after a while. Steal 'em or earn 'em!"
"Earn them?"
"Yes, like what I was just doing. You can say it's like a job."
Lily nodded politely, although she did not like the prospect of "earning" money that way. However, there were more pressing needs to be attended to. "When do we receive food?"
"You were asleep at midday—that's when they serve our bread—but…hold on," the girl said, turning around and walking to a nearby guardsman. She was gesticulating something that Lily couldn't figure out, but sure enough, after a few moments, the girl returned with a slice of bread…if it could be called bread. Grey and hard, the bread was more like a piece of rock, but Lily supposed if any, now was not the time to be picky, so she fell upon the bread as if attacking it.
The girl laughed lightly. "If you hang around with me, I'll let you have one of my fish later."
Lily nodded, gratefully, but kept on eating.
"And…I think I'd like to have you has a friend, seeing as if you're around my own age. If you want to of course…I'd love to share what I little I have left with you."
"With all my heart, I would love to be friends with you," Lily said, feeling, finally, a reprieve that was long overdue..
Anyways! Here's the quote of the day!
"Life is short, so have at it!"
Totally applies to me. Sometimes, I get so caught up in school that I forget that it isn't the most important thing in life. Just words of wisdom.
And here is a question relating to Harry Potter of course!
Unscramble these words to form two new words.
PAUSES NERVES
Good luck! I'll post the answer up next time!
charismaticsilver
