Cokesworth was a town with little colour; it had a church, with a tall, towering steeple, and a few paled washed out pubs, still in circulation – some of the few businesses that still were. The streets were littered with old cans, and, if you were unlucky enough to live down one of the worst streets – such as Spinner's End – you were likely to come across used syringes and crushed pills.
There was a hill nearby that lay like a green cap on the corner of a grey board. That was where the two sisters were headed, in the cold of the dawning spring, wrapped up in oversize coats – Lily's a brilliant red, Tuney's a pale pink.
"Come on Lily," Petunia, the older of the two whined. "Mummy's not going to be happy if we're late back again." She gave her a pointed look. "You're explaining this time."
Lily twisted her lips round and shrugged, tripping up towards her sister. "Sorry Tuney," she said, her eyes burning a great emerald. "It's just – well, look."
She held her closed hand out in front of Petunia's face, and slowly unfurled her fingers. Crushed inside was the bud of a snowdrop, closed up, the green leaves furled around the white, cushioning it like they were ring bearers at a wedding. As the two girls watched, the flower burst into life, the bud opening and flaring its brilliant white petals, pulsing slowly as though through a heartbeat.
It reached its peak – its prime of life – in a few short seconds, and then began to reverse, shrivelling up, but as a newborn again. Rather than drying out and becoming weathered, the flower became encased once more in its walls of green, hidden away from their prying eyes.
"L..Lily.." stammered Petunia. "What are you doing?"
Lily shrugged, her eyes bright with curiosity. "I don't know," she whispered, as though scared of breaking the spell.
"How?" Petunia replied, her voice as quiet as her sister's.
A scared look fell over Lily's face – the first sign of uncertainty Petunia had seen in a while from her. "I..." She began to breathe in deeply, and quickly: short, laboured breath. "I.. Tuney, I don't know," she said.
"It's ok Lil," Tuney sighed. "I love you all the same."
"I love you too Tuney," Lily said, accepting the hug from her sister.
"But I love you most," was her reply, muffled slightly in the embrace. She pulled out, stepping backwards. "Now we've got to go."
She reached for Lily's hand, pulling her forwards, and Lily dropped the flower. It broke into a thousand tiny pieces, each fluttering to the floor like diamond confetti, lying shattered against the pavement. Broken beauty seeped into the ground, and when Lily turned for one final time to watch the petals, there was nothing left to see.
The two girls ran on, laughing and giggling as they reached the edge of Spinner's End.
"Shh," Tuney warned. "Remember, Spinner's End is dangerous."
Lily nodded, her eyes wide and innocent. She glanced down the lane, scanning the brown houses, each like a replica of its neighbour: soulless, with a tall, black door decaying slowly at the front. The windows in each house were grimy – each house but one.
Down the far end of the street, on the ground floor, sat a boy, peering through the glass. His hair was a mid length, falling in shaggy layer past his ears. His skin seemed to be as pale as moonstone, almost radiating a bright white light.
Lily paused, staring straight. She couldn't make out the whole of him, or even the whole of his face, but she could picture him clearly in her head. She'd seen him before, strutting around the hill, always alone. She'd even spared a few moments to smile at him, always with a positive result.
But then, looking then... was different. She could feel her heart pumping faster, blood rushing into her cheeks. A defiance came over her, merged in with an enchantment that left her locked, unable to look away. There was something she could feel, something connecting the two, not physically.. in a way she couldn't explain.
She began to step slowly, entering through the mouth of Spinner's End. Behind her, she could hear Tuney stop and retrace her steps, doubling back on herself to reach Lily again.
"Lily?" she whispered. "What are you doing?"
Lily didn't reply; she just kept walking, stepping without losing eye contact. People in their porch ways began to stare at her, wondering why she was here – it was evident by her bulky red coat and green skirt that she did not live here. But Lily didn't seem to notice.
"Lily," Petunia begged. "Please come back?" She was stood at the end of the street, refusing to follow, her head buried in her hands. "I'll be in trouble with Mama!"
Lily didn't seem to hear her. She didn't stop, she didn't turn round.
"Who are you?" she whispered to the boy at the window.
She reached his gate, and opened it, not even wincing as it whined uncontrollably. He didn't move, just sat, eyes – brown, she could now tell – open, unblinking. Slowly, she veered off the cobbled path and onto a patch of hardened earth, just before the window.
She tiptoed, and blew across the glass leaving a fresh sheet of mist where her breath had stroked it. Carefully, she raised a long, speckled finger, and wiped away parts of the haze, forming her name. He nodded, bowing his head slowly, still transfixed in her gaze.
A grubby finger wiped away her name, and wrote another, somehow painted with the same frosty layer that Lily had begun with, and etched her name from. It wasn't possible, but at that moment, nothing bothered her.
"Severus," she whispered, reading it like he'd intended her to.
He nodded again, raising his whole hand to press up against the glass. Like a mirror image, she too lifted her palm, and placed it against his. She could feel his pulse blood, coursing through his veins, his radiating heat. She could feel his rough skin against hers, and just for a moment, the glass disappeared, and their fingers entwined.
"What are you?" she asked him, twisting her wrist so that he was clutching her hand.
"Lily!" Petunia shrieked.
It was like waking up from a trance. Lily jumped back, turning quickly to see her sister in hysterics at the end of the lane.
"I've got to go," she told the boy, spinning round to apologise. But he wasn't there. There was nothing there, except a piece of worn glass and a handprint. It had happened, right?
Lily leaned in, and peering closer, she could just make out the end of an 's' – scrawled exactly where he'd told her his name. It had happened. It was true. Yet it was unexplainable.
She ran down the lane again, feeling dark eyes watching her, but knowing that no one was there.
"Lily," Petunia whispered, her voice shaking with fear. "What was that?"
Lily shrugged with defeat. "Please Tuney," she said, her lips trembling. "Please..." she trailed off, her jaw jerking.
Tears poured down her face, and she clung to Petunia like it was the only thing she could possibly do. "Tuney," she choked. "I'm scared."
"Shh," Tuney comforted. "It's ok Lily." She rubbed a hand down her sister's back, leading her slowly away.
"It's ok."