One: Introducing Lily Evans
"Your mother was a muggle-born, of course. Couldn't believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood she was so good."
- Professor Slughorn about Lily Evans, Half Blood Prince
Arguably, everything can be defined by a single moment. It is normally a moment of realisation, a sudden calmness where you just think oh, and that's it. That oh sums up everything that you've been putting off for months, deliberately letting collect dust in the back corner of your brain somewhere until your forced to acknowledge it. Some people have thousands, others have only one or two. But everyone has at least one in their lifetime.
They can be sorted into two different categories; major and minor. The minor ones are easily forgettable. They are, perhaps, merely understanding a maths problem that's been a plague for a week or so, or realising what it is about the person you dislike so much. They're boring, fleeting and, mostly, irrelevant. Sometimes, though, they lead to something more. Major ones, for example. Major realisations do not happen often. They are life defining and are a buildup of so many thousands of other tiny, irrelevant moments that don't mean anything to anyone until they're forced together. You yourself don't even understand the full meaning of it until years later, when you look back and put together all the little clues that you left yourself. All the times you had déjà vu, the butterflies in your stomach when he winks at you, the fear that stops your heart for a second when that name is mentioned.
Lily Evans had an uncountable amount of moments. Out of those thousands, there were merely three major realisations, though she would argue otherwise.
She only realises that now, when she hears footsteps that aren't her husband's glide down the hallway towards her hiding place. Run, he'd demanded, but she couldn't. She's had three moments, and this is the last. The final, and perhaps the most important. She hears, rather than sees, the door burst open. She whispers a final promise into her son's hair, lips moving against his skin, presses a final kiss to his head, and doesn't open her eyes.
Realisation does not necessarily mean acceptance.
There's a flash of light, a baby's cry and Lily briefly wonders what will happen to everyone she loves. Lily opens her eyes, even as she can feel everything ebbing away. Time has slowed down, somehow, and Lily's still fine. Still breathing. She feels herself move backwards, through the air, but it's slower, and there's a sound like rushing water before there's quiet.
Another green flash, a cry of frustration, and then,-
Oh.
3rd September 1971: 1st year (As told by Prof. Remus J. Lupin, Remus Lupin, Moony)
The first time Remus Lupin saw Lily Evans was at platform 9 3/4. He didn't know who she was, and he only saw her in passing, but he remembers it. She had hair that was captivating, even then, and a smile that was even more so. She wasn't smiling, though. He remembers this most of all, because she was looking at the girl- Petunia, he would learn later on, maybe that year, maybe next year- beside her as though her heart had been broken. He would learn- much, much later on, sitting round a fire in fifth year- that she had just had her heart broken.
The girl with the captivating hair turned away from her the girl with much less captivating hair, and wiped her eye. Her mother, presumably, kissed the top of her forehead and, when she wasn't looking, directed a warning glare at the other girl. This girl, the second one, rolled her eyes. The first girl sent her one last pleading glance, eyes holding too much pain for someone their age- Remus was distinctly reminded of the full moon, only two days away- and hugged her mother one last time. Her father smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her cheek, whispering something in her ear. The girl nodded as she turned away.
Remus' eyes had moved on, then, following the girl as she found a slightly shorter, skinny, black-haired guy. He smiled at her reassuringly, and she didn't notice but he tried to hold her hand when they got on the train. Later that day, Remus would learn his name was Severus Snape, and soon after that, he would grow to hate him.
Remus was easily distracted, then. His own parents hugged him, whispered how sorry they were he had to go through his first full moon alone, and Remus tried not to cry. He remembers begging that they let him stay home, that at Hogwarts he would only be putting those around him in danger. They told him not to be silly, but Hope and Lyall Lupin would never understand that Remus' greatest fear is those around him.
Remus boarded the train alone, and found a quiet compartment with a girl who didn't speak, and a boy with dark hair. She was sorted into Hufflepuff, he thinks, and he into Slytherin. He looked out the window for the whole journey, only moving to shrug on his hand me down robes and take his lunch from his bag.
The train journey was long, but it was the only time he made it alone for seven years.
The first time Remus Lupin met Lily Evans was sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. The sky was blue, just turning to black, and he could see the moon when he looked up. He bit his lip as Professor McGonagall called 'Lupin, Remus'. Resolutely looking down as he made his way up to the stool with the hat on and with his hands shaking, Remus was terrified.
The hat told him he was brave, and Remus denied it. The hat didn't argue, but told him he was clever, loyal and that he had the potential for great. He had evil in him, the hat said, but he chose to ignore it. The hat told him he was brave once more, and then told the hall. Before he moved, the hat whispered to Remus that he was sorted into Gryffindor for all the reasons he thought he shouldn't be.
Remus had frowned, removed the hat and walked to the table of his cheering house mates. He sat next to the girl he saw at the station. She was staring intently at a boy across the hall, waiting to be called. He was the one from the platform, Remus thinks, just as someone else got sorted into Gryffindor. Remus looks back up at the ceiling, and he swears the moon has gotten bigger since the last time he looked. His eyes returned to the table in front of him, sweeping past the girl, but, for some reason, they're drawn back.
She obviously felt his gaze on her, because she turned to look at him. She grins, big and bright and cheerful, "Hi," she tells him, and then bites her lip in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness, "I'm Lily."
Remus bit his lip, wondering if it'll someone give him the superpower to brave like the stupid hat decided he should be. He's not brave. He's a werewolf for Merlin's sake. He's trembling whenever he sees a moon, and a loner. He doesn't have friends, and he doesn't have anyone to be brave for. Certainly not himself. Hell, if anything, he should have been sitting with the Slytherins, celebrating that there's another evil amongst them. Mind you, he doubted that even they would accept him.
Swallowing, he turned back to the girl in front of him.
Her hair is red and she has a light smattering of freckles across her nose. But its not her hair that captivates him like it had at the station, it's her eyes. They're green. A sea green, really, but very light. But that's not the part that caught his attention. It was their honesty, even back then. She was genuine, that eleven year old girl sat beside him, even then. Instead of nodding and turning away like he had planned to, Remus remembers taking a deep breath and offering his own name.
"Remus."
Lily smiled again, then, a real one. Bigger and brighter and happier than the one before, and Remus decided right then and there that he liked her. Lily bent in closer, "I'm terrified," she whispered, like it was a secret. Maybe it was, Remus considered, for she didn't know anyone. She wasn't like the purebloods or the half bloods that had wizarding friends and family. She was alone.
"Snape, Severus," is called, and Lily's attention is diverted. The hat is barely on him for a second before it screams out Slytherin. Lily's eyes snapped to the front, and when she returns them to him, they're crestfallen, the fear she had just mentioned showing clearly in her eyes. No, Remus reconsiders. She hadn't been alone, but she was just then.
Which is maybe why Remus reached out and touched her hand, "Me too," he whispered back. The last person is sorted into Hufflepuff, and Remus looked up.
"I think," Lily began, as Dumbledore started his speech, "We may be alright here." She smiled softly, and Remus nodded. He remembers thinking that they will be too. "It was nice to meet you, Remus." Her voice was gentle, honest and Remus believed her. He held on to it; somebody at Hogwarts thought it was nice to meet him.
Maybe, he decided, he is glad he's sat here and not the other side of the Great Hall, with the Slytherins. Maybe it is good he's a Gryffindor. He doesn't know what part of him is supposed to be brave, but he's glad its there.
They walked up the stairs together; Remus, Lily and a boy named Peter, who seemed to be just as scared as Remus. Peter is short, slightly tubby and has light brown hair. He smiled with his teeth and when he said his name, he stuttered. Lily talked about various books she read about magic, and Peter listened, enraptured by her enthusiasm for something she didn't fully understand. Remus joined in when he could, glad to have found someone who shared the same awe for the subject. Lily is a muggleborn, he learned, but she wasn't ashamed of it. She never will be. Peter didn't offer his background up, so Remus didn't ask.
They parted ways in the common room, Lily to find her dorm, and Remus and Peter to find theirs. It's empty of people when they got there, but there's a trunk at the foot of each of the beds. Remus reads the name tags: Remus, Peter, Sirius, James. He located his and stared down at the bed and the square foot of space beside it he would get to call home for the next seven years.
His first concern, obviously, was how he was supposed to explain his 'condition' to his roommates, and whether they'd speak to him if they knew. Looking back, Remus supposes to got lucky. Very, very lucky. To room share with the runaway, the golden boy and the bullied, fat kid. They were a bunch of misfits who wouldn't have fit in anywhere else.
Peter was just as silent, staring quietly at his bed as if he wished he were anywhere else. Remus turned round to see him take a small radio out of his trunk and carefully- as though it were made of gold- placed it on his bedside table. Remus felt immediately guilty, as though he were interrupting a private moment. He spun back around and faced his bed. The pillows matched the theme of the house: red with a gold G on them. Remus couldn't work out whether he liked them or hated them.
He was sorting out his robes when two new boys burst into the room. They were gripping each other's shoulders and laughing like they had known each other for years. Their black heads are bent closely, like they were already plotting something. Remus sighed; it's not like he was ever going to get any peace at Hogwarts anyway.
He recognizes the boy with the darkest hair from the sorting ceremony. The whole hall had remained quiet when he'd been sorted into Gryffindor, with the exception of a couple of Slytherins, who had jeered. He'd been the first boy to be sorted, but they hadn't done it for anyone else.
One of the boys- the other one, glasses,- looks up and around him, muttering something to the other one and they both laugh again. Remus fidgets with his robes, adjusting them slightly. He's nervous, for Merlin's sake, the hat must have made a mistake- and a pretty bloody major one. What kind of Gryffindor gets nervous about meeting new people? It's not very brave of heart and whatever other qualities he's supposed to possess but doesn't.
"Hi," glasses said, reaching his hand out, "I'm James and this is Sirius." He narrows his eyes at them, as if in warning, before lowering his voice, "and I don't expect any crap because he's a Black."
Remus frowns. Apparently, that was supposed to mean something. "I'm Remus," He told them instead of asking, with a shrug.
Peter swallowed, bit his lip and, rubbing his hands on his robes, squeaked, "Peter." Maybe Remus wasn't the only nervous one, then. However cruel it is of him to do so, Remus is glad.
James smiled. "Good," He tilted his head to one side, "We're going to have fun this year." He declared, and then shoved Sirius away from him to jump on his bed. Sirius scowled, but when James grinned at him, his glare loosens. Remus watched the exchange, and realized that, perhaps, they're all nervous. With the exception of James, who seems to be perfectly at ease as he comments about the style of the bed.
Remus gained three new best friends that night, and a knack for knowing exactly when, and how, James Potter is cheating. He learnt that Sirius is scared of his mother- even though he never actually said it, just conveyed it in scowls and harsh words- and that Peter missed his already. He learnt that James has a knack for Quidditch and, were it allowed, he'd have tried out for the team already. He noticed that Sirius looked to James for leadership, and James looked to Sirius for companionship, and he saw a firm friendship that would grow into a brotherhood.
He saw Peter grow in confidence, and begin to laugh and come up with his own jokes. He saw James notice and laugh harder to help, and doesn't say anything. He saw Sirius smile quietly to himself, as if noticing that he finally has a family.
Remus Lupin doesn't say an awful lot the first night they share their dorm in Hogwarts, but he notices a lot.
3rd September 1971: 1st Year (As told by Prisoner.390, AKA, Sirius Orion Black, Padfoot, Snuffles .etc.)
Sirius had noticed Lily Evans on his first day at Hogwarts. He'd thought she was cute, even then. Cute like the little sister he didn't know he wanted. It was at the platform before they boarded the train, the first time he saw her. There was another girl, maybe a year or so older, beside her with a sharp face, her nose pointed in the air. Sirius looked up at his own mother, and bit back a smile at the similarity. Regulus, standing on her other side, nudged Sirius.
Sirius had turned his attention away from the girl with the red hair and green eyes and onto his little brother. Regulus blinked up at him, as innocent as a Black could be, and bit his lip. Sirius, even as an eleven year old, knew it was important he protect his brother, "You be good, Reg," he tells him, voice lowered to a whisper.
Regulus nods, and Sirius smiles, tugging him into a quick hug before their mother looks back down at them. "Goodbye, Mother." He tells her. She glances down at him in a quick, disdainful glare that makes him want to run away and hide. He doesn't. Instead, he casts one last glance at Regulus, and turns towards the train.
The girl, the red head, is hugging her mother, squeezing her tightly as her father bends down to whisper something to her. Her sister turns her nose up further, and Sirius wonders what happened to make her so much like his mother. The girl looks over to him, and he gives her a small smile, which she returns with one of her own. It covers her whole face, beaming out of her until he feels some of the strain of living with the burden of the surname Black runs away.
She leaves then, kissing her father's cheek and waving once more before grabbing her bag and making her way to the train. Sirius watches her go, not able to stop his eyes flickering back to her parents. Her father has his arm wrapped round her mother, hugging her to him. Sirius bites his lip as her father presses a kiss to her mother's head, before they turn away, the sister's hand gripping the mother's tightly.
They're a family, Sirius knows this. Sirius also knows that there's a part of him that hates this girl on principal merely because she has what he can never have.
So he doesn't go after her, invite her to be his friend. Instead, he goes onto the train and finds the first empty compartment he can, throwing himself down onto a chair and closing his eyes. He's not here to make friends; he's here to learn and get the hell out so he doesn't have to be with his mother for a second longer than he has to.
It's quiet for a while as the rest of the train fills up, and Sirius watches the platform gradually empty as more students make their way onto the platform, and parents wave one last goodbye to their children. Only the first year's parents remain, standing, teary eyed on the platform to wave their children off. Sirius scans them for his mother, and sees the tip of her hat walking towards the barrier. Slumping back down in his seat, he shrugs. He should've known.
"Hey, do you mind? Everywhere else is full." The compartment door slides open and a boy with dark hair and darker eyes hidden behind glasses is standing there, beaming. "Great, thanks."
"I didn't-" Sirius begins to protest, but then tilts his head, pausing.
"I'm James," The guy- James- introduces himself, "James Potter. I'm going to be sorted into Gryffindor."
Sirius blinks, "Sirius," he tells him quietly. "Sirius Black," he pauses for a moment, "And I'm not going to be sorted into Slytherin."
James' smile widens, somehow, and he begins a discussion about chocolate frogs that Sirius can't keep up with. He laughs along anyway, indulging in the hour or so he has to be friends with this boy before he's sorted into Slytherin anyway and whisked away from any chance at friendship or bravery. Sirius wonders what it is about James' laugh or even his smile that makes him feel like it's okay that he's the black sheep of the family, or that every other wizard would cower if he introduced himself as a 'Black', but this eleven year old boy somehow finds it in himself not to care.
Somewhere along the way, Sirius finds himself joining in, chipping in with his own stories and adventures. He doesn't know if James Potter is taking him seriously, or whether or not he's going to go to all his Gryffindor friends and laugh about 'the boy on the train later', but James laughs and gasps at all the right moments. For the very first time, it feels like Sirius has a friend.
They walk into the Great Hall together, James waving at people he knows and Sirius with his head down, and hiding behind James' back. He doesn't want James to be seen with him and immediately shunned. The only people he knows are at the Slytherin table; they'd welcome him with open arms, he's almost positive, but he's not sure he wants that. Sirius feels someone brush his side and flinches away, looking up to see the red head from earlier.
She smiles, "I'm Lily," she tells him, "You look scared." Sirius glares at her, but she continues, either unaware or not caring, "I'm scared."
"Really," Sirius deadpans, and Lily smiles.
"You shouldn't be," She tells him, "It's just going to tell you which house you're going to be in, it's not a matter of life and death."
James turns round, "Sirius!" he starts, and then stops abruptly when he notices Lily. Sirius scowls, "Hi, I'm James," he tells her, "James Potter."
Sirius wonders if that's how he was taught to introduce himself. Names are, after all, something that defines you in the wizarding world. Names, that is, and blood status.
"Lily," Lily replies, and then pauses, frowning, adding "Lily Evans " like an afterthought. Mudblood, Sirius thinks. Blinking, he corrects himself, Muggleborn. It makes sense; she wouldn't know to introduce herself with a name.
James offers her a smirk, and Lily raises her eyebrows, smiling once more at Sirius before spinning to face the front, where the first students are being called up. It goes quickly, and before he knows it, Sirius' name is being called and the room falls silent as the hat is placed on his head. His heart is beating out of his throat, and he thinks about his mother, and James and the ginger girl- Lily- and which house he really wants to belong to.
In the end, the hat screeches out his answer, sounding incredibly sure of the choice it has made. The room remains silent, and Sirius doesn't move, certain it's made a mistake. He looks back down at the crowd of first years, and sees Lily whispering something to a black, slimy-haired guy, that glares up at him. Lily follows his gaze and offers him another smile. Sirius lets out a sigh, finally reaching up to remove the hat from his head.
He's a Gryffindor.
3rd September 1971: 1st Year (As told by Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail, Wormy, Pete)
Peter Pettigrew first noticed Lily Evans on the platform before he boarded the train for Hogwarts. His mother stood beside him, staring straight ahead, tightly gripping his hand. Peter wasn't sure, even then, if he was really meant to be a wizard. He grew up with magic, sure. His mum used it round the house all the time, but Peter had never felt a connection with it.
He doesn't know who she is the first time that he sees her. Just catches her eye across the platform. She's looking at someone past him, and he turns to see a taller boy with dark hair and dark eyes, staring back at her. The boy's mother grips his shoulder tightly, but the boy doesn't flinch. Peter tips his head to one side.
Before long, the boy turns away, and when Peter turns back round, the girl is gone. She wasn't looking at him, Peter knows this. He's unnoticeable, he is. It's how he's survived this long, he reckons.
The first time Peter Pettigrew speaks to her, he's behind another taller boy- Remus Lupin, or so he introduced himself- and he's following her up the stairs. Remus and Lily are talking about the History of Hogwarts, and Peter finds himself hanging on to their every word. They're friends already, Peter can see this, as they discuss battles and wizards and Albus Dumbledore. Peter can only listen in rapt admiration.
Remus is taller than Peter, but then, most people are. His hair is pale, but his skin is paler. He has dark circles under his eyes, but he still looks more confident than Peter feels. When Peter looks down, though, he can see that Remus' hand is shaking slightly. Lily's hair is long and thick and curls slightly at the end. It's a vibrant, vibrant red, all shimmery and shit. Peter's sure other girls would be jealous of it.
"I'm Lily," the girl finally tells him, once she's spun round more times than Peter can count, and finally notices him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realise you were there, you should have said something!" She doesn't look harsh. She looks sincere, so Peter nods.
"Just shy, I guess," He shrugs, forcing a smile onto his face. Remus looks at him curiously, and Lily smiles.
"What's your name?" Lily asks, looking down at him. Peter looks back at her, kicking himself for forgetting how to behave around strangers. Peter's never been that good at anything, really, but he'd like to be good at this. Making friends. He'd like to be a good wizard.
"Peter," he offers with a smile. It's more genuine this time, not feeling quite as forced. "Peter Pettigrew. My mum's a witch." Lily nods.
"Neither of my parents were," Lily says, and hesitates, "I'm a-" She pauses, searching for the right way to phrase it.
"Muggle-born," Remus supplies from next to her, and Lily nods.
"Sorry, I'm still catching up." Remus shakes his head, and tells her not to be silly, she's got seven years to catch up. Lily laughs, tipping her head back, and then returns to smile once more down at Peter. Her eyes are green and the warmest Peter has ever seen, but they dart away from him all too soon, and she's talking to Remus again, fascination written on every pore of her face as she talks about the way the walls were built, and wonder seeping out of her as she describes the charms used to enchant the ceiling in the great hall.
Remus doesn't talk much either, Peter notices. It's okay, though, because Lily manages to talk enough for all three of them, filling in all the silences with interesting little facts. It's calming, and though Peter doesn't take any of the information in, he listens intently. She's animated, coming alive and so genuine that it's hard not to listen.
"What class are you most looking forward to?" Lily asks, not looking at either of them. She's looking up at the portraits moving, amazement shining out of her. Peter wants to tell her that they're only portraits, nothing special, but something stops him. Being a Gryffindor means being good. He's brave, now. Or so the hat told him.
"Charms," Remus replies, "or maybe transfiguration, I don't know, I'm looking forward to them all, I guess."
"I don't know," Peter answers. He hasn't really thought about. Hasn't really thought about any of it, if he's honest. It's just been a whirlwind of activity from the moment he arrived. They're at the top of the stairs, and Lily spins around, eyes wide in amazement, as she takes it all in and Peter wonders what it's like to be so in awe of something he always knew was going to happen.
Lily leaves then, to go find her dorm room, her eyes still shining, and Peter follows Remus to theirs. He ignores Remus as he unpacks, slowly taking everything out of his trunk, and lifting his radio out with care. It's the only thing he's had with him for his entire life, and he's going to keep it that way. He places it carefully on his bedside table, and stares at it for a while. He can feel Remus' eyes on him, but doesn't turn round.
Their room is small. It's filled with red and gold, and there's four beds, three windows and just about enough space for four small eleven year old boys to live. It's sort of perfect, and when Peter pastes his Quidditch poster on the wall, he thinks to himself that it looks better here than it did at home on his bedroom wall.
Later on, two other boys burst in, and Peter finds himself being introduced by Remus, and suddenly his lonely one becomes four. Peter doesn't notice the looks that James gives him when he's not looking, concerned and determined, and he doesn't notice how Sirius looks at him, curious and slightly wary. Peter doesn't notice because he's not used to being noticed. He's used to being ignored, but for the first time in his life when he's noticed and he doesn't realize.
3rd September, 1971: First Year (As told by Mr J. Potter, father, son and loving husband)
The first time James Potter sees Lily Evans, he's with his new friend Sirius. They met in the train compartment, earlier, and James likes him already. He likes that they look like they could be brothers, with their similar messy hair. Sirius' is darker than James', though, and he doesn't wear glasses.
They're in the great hall, waiting for the sorting to begin. James wants to remember every minute of it, and looks up and around him, taking it all in. It's better than his parents described, and he grins. He's going to have fun, this year, he decides. Lots of it. He feels Sirius stumble into him, and then hears a soft voice say, "I'm Lily, you look scared." There's a silent pause, and then, "I'm scared."
James cracks a smile when he hears Sirius respond, "Really," in a deadpan voice James grew used to in the train on the way over. It's lacking the confidence his voice held when he told him that he wasn't going to be sorted into Slytherin, but James smiles nonetheless.
"You shouldn't be," the voice tells him, gentle and firm all at once, "It's just going to tell you which house you're going to be sorted in. It's not a matter of life and death."
It is for some people, James thinks. The Black family has a reputation, and it's clearly one Sirius wants to break.
James turns around with the express interest of telling her this, "Sirius!" he begins, but stops abruptly when he notices Lily. Sirius scowls. Lily is pretty. She has long ginger hair that would probably rest just below her shoulder blades when down, but is right now tied up with a green bow that matches her eyes.
"Hi, I'm James," he tells her, "James Potter." He sticks his hand out like his father taught him, and when she slips her hand into it, looking slightly baffled, he shakes it firmly. Handshakes are important, James.
"Lily," Lily replies, and then pauses, frowning, before adding "Lily Evans" like it was an afterthought. James grins, and turns back round, as Lily moves off, back towards that slimy-haired guy he saw earlier. He's sort of ugly, James notices. She could do better.
Sirius distracts him, nodding towards where they're sorting the students. He can't quite see the hat; there's some tall, thin guy standing in front of him. It's vaguely annoying. James doesn't care though, all he needs to know is that he's being sorted into Gryffindor.
Moment number one was perhaps the easiest to accept. Dumbledore would say that that is because it had the least amount of repercussions, though Lily would disagree. It had plenty of repercussions, and most of them threw negativity at her. Evert single one of them, though, changed her life forever. It had been a long time in the making; thousands of moments leading up to this one.
Lily Evans was a witch. It was hard to accept, for most members of her family. Her mother didn't speak to her for a week, convinced Lily and 'the Snape boy' were playing some elaborate prank on her, and even her father- the member of her family beside Petunia she had always been closest to- had been annoyed. Petunia was the worst.
Growing up, Lily's first memories are Petunia reading her bedtime stories about dragons and fairies and castles. Lily had grown up with Petunia watching over her, and magic watching over Petunia. Magic was a part of their life Lily had grown to accept, even if she couldn't see it. At ten years old, Lily saw her dad sneak into Tuney's room and replace her tooth with a coin, and from then on, Lily never believed in magic. She didn't tell Tuney, though. She let her continue believing in the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny and all the things Lily no longer did.
Lily didn't tell her parents she knew, and they never did. Magic was a thing that existed only when it was needed; a scab could be fixed with a kiss, and tears could be fixed with a hug. Love, Lily can remember Petunia telling her wistfully, is the strongest form of magic there is.
Until, that is, Lily received a letter. Suddenly, magic was something Lily believed in and Petunia didn't. Lily was a freak, a weirdo, an outcast. She was not to be trusted and she was alone. Gradually, her parents warmed up to the idea, but Petunia remained cold. She didn't smile and she didn't laugh. She didn't sneak into Lily's bedroom with a bar of chocolate when she came back from a friend's house late like she used to and she didn't wink at her over breakfast.
Petunia believed in magic right up until Lily needed her to.
Lily had seen the signs; they all had. Severus down the road had suddenly become more interested, and Lily had allowed him to be. She welcomed his company, even when Petunia mocked his hair, his nose and his baggy clothes that hung limp off of his body. She laughed in his presence, and he made flowers grow around his fingers, and she made them grow in his hair. He held her hand when he showed her how to coax the ground to move to let a bud through, and he tugged her arm when he wanted to show her something.
His hair was long and his knowledge about magic rivalled even Petunia's. His tales sounded more far-fetched, but, at the same time, even more real. Lily could imagine a school with a funny name, off somewhere in Scotland, but she couldn't imagine the students that filled it. She couldn't imagine witches having to learn.
Lily saved her own life once. She was four years old and she stumbled into the fire. It didn't burn her, but turned cold against her skin, and she danced in the flames. It was the first clue, she thinks. Her parents have never told her it happened, but Petunia did. Lily never had a reason to believe her until the letter.
When she was seven, Lily fixed a graze on her hand with a blink of her eye. When she was nine, she found herself up a tree without a warning, and when she was ten she made a flower grow from the ground in winter.
They were all moments, all little things that had no significance until they were pushed together.
"Magic," Severus had told her the first time they met, "Is a wonderful thing, but it comes with a price."
For Lily Evans, as she stares out the carriage pulling her away from her mother, father and sister, the price was her family.