Mr. Evans was the first to notice anything was wrong. Being the cautious father that he was, he always made it a point to check in on his girls if he happened to wake up in the night, which is exactly what happened one particular instance late July. The air was hot and mucky, far too oppressing to sleep in. Annoyed at the fact that he'd have to call a repairman in the morning for the air unit, he clambered a bit noisily down the stairs and soon regretted the ruckus he made. Walking into the kitchen, Mr. Evans pulled out a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water and cracked a window as he gulped down his drink. Repairman would mean money, and money that they couldn't spare. All this gave him a massive headache, and sighing, Mr. Evans made his way back up the stairs. Passing his Lily and Petunia's rooms, however, something was out of place— Lily never slept with the door open. He poked his head inside her room only to discover that it was empty.
"Send your daughter off to magic school," he heard himself mutter as he shuffled back down the stairs, "it'll be great. Let her meet a smooth talking bloke. Let her sneak out of the house. It's all good. All normal" He made his way back to the kitchen table and took a seat, ready to wait up for Lily. She must have gone out with James and for whatever reason not alerted her parents, which made both Lily's and James' behavior out of place, for they always made time to visit before leaving. Mr. Evans liked James as much as any father could like the man his youngest was dating. After all, James had spent the majority of their Christmas break here, not to mention the fact that he was a lot better than that Snape boy. It was obvious to anyone who saw the two that James was infatuated with Lily, and she with him.
And so Mr. Evans waited, drinking water and attempting to feel a nonexistent breeze come through the cracked window. When the clock above the oven showed 2:32 and he decided it was time to abandon his sentient, Mr. Evans was shocked to hear voices drift in through the window. It wasn't, however, Lily's light voice mixed with James' relaxed voice. He heard Lily and another girl, both exhausted.
"…Lucky you showed up when you did," the foreign voice remarked. They weren't far from the door.
"It was Sirius, actually," Lily remarked. She was tired, yes, but there was this sort of trill in her voice that gave away the fact that she was in an adrenaline rush. What had these girls been up to? "He caught wind of it and told James, who came here around eleven thirty."
"Well I owe Sirius a huge favor. But don't tell him that, I doubt Frank would approve of the sort of repayment Sirius would want." Lily laughed.
"Thanks for bringing me home, Alice," they were standing right at the front door. "It wasn't necessary. I've got my house protected with Ministry protocol and then some."
"Oh," Alice remarked, "I know. I wanted to be sure, though, but the shields are brill. Could barely trace 'em. Honestly, I just wanted to be the one to tell you this." Alice lowered her voice, but Mr. Evans could clearly hear her through the cracked window. "Mad-Eye was impressed, you know. He saw you with Mulciber. You didn't hear it from me, but I know for a fact that you've been on Dumbledore's list as well. You won't need a tip off from Sirius soon enough."
"This is all James and I could talk about for after we left Hogwarts. We'll get in, Alice? All of us?" Lily sounded like she was five years old again, begging for a kitten.
"I wouldn't doubt it. How could the Order not want you? Plus," Alice sounded amused, "I'm fairly certain McGonagall wants to redirect the Marauders' tricks into something more, uh, productive."
"I hope you're right. Shit," Lily exclaimed, "it's two forty? I have to get inside, Alice. I'll owl you!"
And thus concluded the strangest conversation Mr. Evans could recall hearing about what he assumed was a massive party that Lily and James had finally found. When she opened the door and attempted to look innocent about the time and she couldn't take a pleased grin off her face, he decided to let it drop. Lily had always been good at getting out of trouble. But Mr. Evans didn't forget this conversation. Almost every night, Lily went out of the house to meet someone waiting at the gate for her. Most nights it was James, perhaps with another boy in a leather jacket. Some nights it was whom he assumed to be Alice, but there was the occasional time she went out alone— usually running. Soon, Mr. Evans began to notice exactly what Lily tried so desperately to hide. The bags beneath her pretty eyes, a cut on her cheek, the bruise on her forearm that looked suspiciously like fingermarks, a gash on her leg that wouldn't heal, or even the blood stains on her clothes. All this he saw, and all this he tried to ignore. Lily was eighteen. This was her life.
Three weeks into Lily's new self, Mrs. Evans began to notice. Partly, at least. She needed help from Petunia to understand it all.
"Lily ran out of here before I could say anything differently." Mrs. Evans tutted as she put last night's pots into the cupboards. "Honestly this girl believes that just because she's graduated that she can do whatever she pleases. Besides, I wanted to talk to her again, about..." She let her voice trail, but Mr. Evans could sense where the conversation was headed.
"I thought her decision was final, dear," He warned her. She turned to him, waving the bottle scrubber at him.
"Well, I disagree with it."
"It's her life, Margaret. It's her decision."
"And I don't like it. She's a smart girl, she needs to go to university."
"And, as Lily told you, that's not how her world works."
"Her world?" Mrs. Evans' voice rose in confusion. "Her world? I don't know what you mean by that. She had her time at Hogwarts, now it's time for her to finish school the normal way." And she tossed the bottleneck sponge into the sink, case closed in her mind, and picked up her coffee mug to join her husband at the table "She didn't tell you where she would be today, hmm, dear? She was all dressed up, you know. Maybe a special lunch date. I hope she'll bring James here after. He could fix that cabinet door you've been ignoring, you know."
Mr. Evans snorted. "I hope Lily knows you're attempting to steal her boyfriend."
"Well he'll have less time to spend with her after I talk to her. This is the second time this week she's left without telling me why, and—"
"She's at a funeral." Petunia interrupted, standing near the door way. She had entered the kitchen unnoticed, her blonde hair pulled back in a pretty bun at the nape of her neck. Mr. Evans eyed both Petunia and Mrs. Evans' with forced casualness. He feared what Petunia knew, and he feared his wife's reaction at whatever Petunia revealed. Admittedly, this was news to Mr. Evans as well, and it didn't sit well in his stomach. Mrs. Evans blinked.
"What?"
"I wasn't snooping," Petunia began, defensively, as she made her way to the kitchen table, "but you told me to dust the rooms, and I found this on Lily's desk." With an unceremonious plop, she dropped a pile of paper on the table and picked up the top paper. "This was on top," she handed a clipping to her mother.
"An obituary?" There was a date circled in red, beneath a picture of a boy, laughing down at his entry. "It... It says he was murdered, Henry." She stated at the article as if it could explain what was happening, explain why Lily wouldn't tell her family this. "I don't understand any of this, it's all magic jargon. Why didn't Lily tell us one of her friends was murdered? Oh, she must be devastated." Mr. Evans didn't answer, for the simple reason that he didn't want to. He had his fears about what Lily would sneak out for, and until this far he had hoped that the worst of her involvement in whatever this was would not be actual killing.
"Here's your answer," and Petunia held up a full page article. War Rages On read the headline, a picture of a crumbling building on fire beneath it. More damage this month than the past two combined.
"What is this?" Mrs. Evans snatched the newspaper from Petunia's hands. "Lily never mentioned any of this sort..." Her eyes moved back and forth, scanning the article with increasing repulsion, silent now.
"You haven't noticed?" Petunia shot, as she sat down at the table with her parents. "Lily would read these blasted papers in here every morning, but she stopped this year. Guess she figured we didn't need to know what goes on in her precious world."
"Well, I don't see how this relates to Lily, save for her poor friend. She's no soldier, so it's not as if this war directly affects her. Besides," Mrs. Evans sipped her coffee, "she's probably going through some sort of post-graduation depression, which would explain why she's been so quiet. Nothing to worry about."
Petunia subtly rolled her eyes. "You really haven't noticed, have you? You haven't seen the huge bruise on Lily's thigh? She's wearing trousers in the middle of summer to cover it, but I saw it at breakfast two days ago. I think she's got a bruised rib as well, she winces when she moves too quickly."
Mr. Evans stared at Petunia. He had never voiced his concern for Lily to his wife, and it never occurred to him to speak with Petunia. She cared.
"You knew," she stated simply, gauging his reaction. Margaret looked up as Mr. Evans sighed.
"Yes."
"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Evans sounded infuriated.
"Tell her, Dad. There's no more hiding it, because both you and I know what's going on. It's only fair." Petunia crossed her arms stubbornly, almost defiant in the way she had addressed her mother so accusingly. Petunia was hurt that she didn't notice anything, hurt for Lily. Not for the first tie, Mr. Evans could fully see the differences in his two daughters. Lily wore her emotions on her sleeve, Petunia tucked them away. Lily had always been flying off the handle with excitement, Petunia had always been more controlled. And some might say that Petunia hated Lily, but Mr. Evans knew differently. He turned to his wife.
"You're wrong, dear."
"What?"
"You're wrong, Margaret," he repeated, "wrong about Lily. She's been fighting. I've seen her go off. At first, I thought she was sneaking out with James—" Petunia scoffed, "but I was wrong. Most times, she'll disappear with him, but not always. It's always James who returns her here before morning." He didn't think it necessary to mention the blood stains or limps they'd be sporting. He shook his head. "I was hoping, praying, it wasn't this."
Mrs. Evans was appalled. "I cannot believe you didn't think to tell me this, Henry. You didn't think it important to tell me that my youngest daughter is involved in fighting a… a war?" She thrust the newspaper at him. "Look here. This isn't war, this is massacre. Look at those numbers. I'm furious, Henry. And you, Petunia!"
"I'm sorry," Mr. Evans muttered, closing his eyes. "I couldn't tell you."
"Then tell me why, can you do that? Why is she putting herself out there? She could stay home, she doesn't have to fight."
"Yes," Petunia said clearly, "she does. Here." And once again, Petunia took from a stack of papers a full page article. Death Eaters Release Names, Offer for Muggleborns to Turn in Their Wands in Peace. "This, Mum. Look." And like the obituary before, there was Lily's picture, circled in an ominous red. She wasn't laughing.
"Oh." Mr. Evans felt his heart drop. He felt it break.
"M-Muggleborn?" Mrs. Evans stuttered, staring horrified at Lily's picture.
"We're Muggles," spat Petunia. "Nasty term, right? We're inferior to them. We're the target of this war." Silence followed, heavy and unbearable. Mrs. Evans broke it.
"I'm talking to her." She stated, resolute. "She's stopping this now. James will agree with me, he won't want her in danger like this."
"James isn't going to stop her, Margaret. They're doing this together." Mr. Evans reached out for her hand.
"I don't like it. Stop her, Henry! How can you sit back and do nothing?"
"I agree with Mum." Petunia's voice was quiet, and she looked at her father with her eyes wide. "Dad, she'll get killed."
"I…I'm not stopping her." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "That's final. And you won't either. This is Lily's life, and her decision."
"If you do this, Henry, we could lose Lily." Margaret hissed.
"And if we stop her, we'll have nothing but her hatred." More heavy silence.
"I'm going lay down." Mrs. Evans mumbled, snatching her hand from beneath her husband's. "And I'm going to pray that sense comes to you, Henry." And with that, she marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Petunia stared down at the ring on her finger before she stood abruptly, glared at her father and told him that she was heading to Vernon's, and not to expect her home soon. As the door slammed, Mr. Evans put his head on the table.
Four days later, Lily finally broke the hard shell she had built around herself. Of course, not in front of her family— but still, she broke. Habit called Mr. Evans to wake up at midnight when he heard the gate crash outside. Sighing, he climbed out of bed and headed to the living room to wait up for Lily. He'd always disappear before she walked in after one of her outings so that she wouldn't know what stress she was causing him. He picked up and book and read. And read, and read, and read until well past three in the morning when he decided to head back up to his room and maybe get some sleep. He couldn't shake the feeling, however, that Lily's absence wasn't something as simple as her staying over at James' (when had that become simple in his mind?). So even when he reached the master bedroom, he crept to his window in an effort to not wake his wife and opened the curtain just in time to hear the now familiar, crack! as Lily and James appeared in the middle of the yard. Lily limped, supported by a very grimy James, and proceeded to vomit into the rose bushes. James held her hair and rubbed her back, not very far from passing out himself. When she was finished, he vanished the sick from the garden with a flick of his wand.
"I want," Lily panted, defeated yet defiant, "I want Bellatrix dead, James. I want her dead, I want to kill her myself."
"There's an entire book of people who want her gone," he told her, frustration and anger seeping through his voice despite the fact that he was gently smoothing down Lily's hair as they sat on the grass and she curled up into his chest.
"They were only children."
"I know." There was consolation in his simple reply.
"Muggle children, and she slaughtered them, James. Children."
"I know." They sat in silence for a few moments before James spoke again, slowly. "Lily… how did we Apparate right into your yard? Shouldn't your barricade have placed us outside the fence?" Lily jumped up.
"Oh God, you're right. Oh God," she removed her wand from her torn jacket. "We've just been sitting here, with no protection… But they were up when I left. I checked," Lily turned slowly towards the front porch, moving her wand in a swirl. "James, there's traces of magic. It's not mine."
He stood next to her and motioned for her to stop her swirling. His brow furrowed, James poked his wand into the air, and a shower of green sparks erupted from nowhere. Lily blanched and stumbled backwards as James stared open mouthed at the front porch. Mr. Evans couldn't see what made Lily nearly pass out and what made James look infuriated.
"Oh God," was all Lily could repeat. She fell back onto the grass and rocked back and forth. "Oh my God." James knelt down next to Lily. "They were here, James." He put a hand on her shoulder, but she was visibly shaking. "Death Eaters were at my house. Look at it!" She was practically screeching. "'We know you're here, Mudblood.' I can't believe it." And once again, Lily collapsed, this time into James' waiting arms. "My family," was all she could say, over and over again. She closed her eyes.
"Lily, listen to me. Please." They locked eyes. "I know that you thought that by staying at home, not moving out, you were protecting your family. That's not the case anymore. It's not safe." Lily didn't reply immediately, but when she did, it was with the air of one reaching a slow, painful, and irreversible realization.
"I can't live in both worlds any longer. I have to pick." Lily stepped away from James, making her way towards the porch as if in a trance. "I have to let them go. My mum, dad, sister…"
"Will be safer without you," James advised, standing his distance from Lily. It was a remarkable thing to note that he was in no way influencing or controlling Lily's decision here. He merely understood her deepest, most tragic thoughts, and voiced them. "We'll leave all the old charms back up, but without you passing in and out of them constantly, they'll be stronger, and have less of a mark." There was a moment of sullen silence before Lily slowly spun to face James, arms crossed protectively over her torso. When she spoke, her voice waivered with uncertainty.
"Does your offer still stand?"
"What?"
"Your proposal. Do you still want to marry me?" And here, James gave a disbelieving chuckle.
"Do I still want to marry you, Lily? Oh, you're kidding me."
"James, be as serious as I am right now."
"I'd marry you in a heartbeat if you'd let me."
Lily nodded slowly. "Okay," she breathed out, but not in relief. "Okay, now it's time for you to listen to me. I love you, James, more than anything. And I'd do anything to protect you, including," Lily gulped, "including letting you go." James made a noise of indignant protest as he reached out to grab Lily's hand, but she backed away frantically as if he his touch were burning. The panic returned to her voice.
"I'm dangerous!" She held up her palms, signaling for him to stop in his tracks. "Death Eaters from school already try twice as hard to get to me as they do any other Order member. I'm too dangerous, and I don't want to risk you."
"If you think for a second," James practically growled,"that I fear this war more than I love you, Lily, you're daft. I don't care where you come from, or where I come from, or anything else but you. No amount of danger, or Voldemort himself, is going to stop me from loving you and being goddamn happy with you. Do you understand me, mad girl? Marry me."
As she ran into his arms, Mr. Evans turned away from the window.
The next evening, James visited with him after dinner and properly asked for Lily's hand in marriage. Mr. Evans conceded. Two days later, when Lily was all packed and ready to "move into a couple of her girl friends' flat," she promised to come visit the family as often as possible. Mr. Evans knew that was a lie, but he didn't think Lily noticed that.