Lily Evans peered reluctantly in the mirror. Slowly she fingered her brush, glaring all the while at her reflection. What was beauty anyways?
It's just some commercial expectation set by society to look a certain way! She thought angrily. Isn't there beauty on the inside? What does that look like? Are people really so consumed with the outer layer that the sustenance beneath is deemed pointless?
She sighed and pushed her thick, heavy glasses back on her face. She fingered her bushel of flaming hair that refused to be tamed. Lily struggled to run her fingers through her tangled fro of accursed knotty strands. Other girls made it look so easy. Their silky rivulets of spun gold would part smooth as chiffon.
Lily fingered her wand lazily. Perhaps she could find a spell…
"Bi-pity bop-ity boo!!" Lily laughed as she tapped her head jokingly with her wand, in reality half-hoping a wave of sparks would engulf her body and transform her from Cinderella to magical princess.
Her wand coughed out little more than dust as a single blood red rose materialized on her desk. Lily laughed at the pathetic display and then sighed, "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet..." she pricked her finger on a thorn and cursed, "Oh wonderful…" the pinpoint of blood swelled to a droplet, "a rose by any other name would deceive with beauty and strike with thorn!"
Lily put the rose in a vase before heading to bed. Tomorrow she would be off to Hogwarts away from her muggle life. Away from her accursed sister and her perfectly charming blond looks that seethed of arrogance. Away from people who could never know her real self. Lily was tired of it all. And tomorrow all her worries would be magicked away. Literally.
Lily slipped off her fuzzy slippers, flung off her glasses, and hopped on her creaky old bed. Though her bed was ancient, Lily felt quite comfortable snuggled under her large puffy blankets. She thought of Hogwarts until a familiar face wandered across her mind's eye; it was her best friend Christina Arietta-- nicknamed Cherry. Lily could easily imagine her friend's light bouncy brown curls occasionally playing across her "cherry" cheeks. Lily grinned, thinking of Cherry's rivalry with another Gryffindor. She didn't know him personally- never wanted to in fact. He sounded like a pig from what Cherry told her.
They were both campaigning this year for Team Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The Headmaster had a whimsical notion to practice some democratic election like in the United States. Lily rolled her eyes at the thought of Americans. She did like their accents however.
Refocusing her attention back to the election, Lily schemed up campaign ideas against the other candidate. He was probably some jock that looked fabulous and couldn't count to three in Dutch. Lily fumed at even thinking of someone like him. She hoped to Merlin that Cherry would get team captain and not this prissy showoff named Pot-head or something.
Lily burrowed her way deeper under the covers. The nights were just starting to get cold. From the frosty window, the only thing remotely visible was a wavering streetlight in the cold dark night. Lily drifted slowly off to sleep dreaming. She dreamt of a blurry form- a guy- a reoccurring motif in her dreams. The only thing she could ever make out were his eyes, golden chocolate orbs that spoke more than any words could say. Lily sighed and gazed into his endless sea of color and emotion.
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"Lily, get up you lazy brute!" a shrill agitated voice called from the door banging noisily on the wooden panel.
"Go away Pansy," muttered Lily.
"It's Petunia," shrieked the irritated teen.
"We're all flowers, who cares?" Lily replied in a yawn. She rubbed her eyes in an attempt to cast away her sleepiness.
"Lily…" came the warning trill. "You're going to make me late. I'm meeting my strong handsome Vernon at the mall."
Lily laughed, "Yes your beefy Vernon who cares more about tools than you!"
"At least I have a boyfriend, Lily," she replied smugly, "I'm not the one who's going to die alone."
That stung. Lily grabbed her glasses and flung open her door in rage only to find it empty. A tinkling little laugh drifted down the hallway. "She's up mother!"
Infuriated, Lily quickly changed into an outfit, not even bothering to glance into the wretched mirror. As she finished pulling on her knee high socks, she smoothed her gray skirt and stood up firmly in her platform shoes. She felt taller than usual and gained confidence from that. She grabbed a brush and hoped to high Heavens that her hair would be tame today. As she absentmindedly brushed her long tangly locks, she listened to the morning wizard radio station. She started humming to a ghastly song of ghouls and poltergeist, and finally threw her brush in her suitcase.
Then, something about the brush caught her eye. There was a certain unusual thing about it that Lily just couldn't place. It looked just as it did yesterday; a worn and old wood handle with a few broken plastic combs, but different. It was subtly dissimilar. Finally, it dawned on her that there were no hairs of hers stuck in the brush even though she had worked through her many knots and tangles.
"Weird," she muttered.
"Lily! Are you really up?!" her mother called lovingly, "I've got breakfast waiting! I've got pancakes!"
Lily threw her brush in her trunk, locked it, and rushed downstairs. She could already smell the warm homemade whiff of hot pancakes and syrup. She zoomed to the kitchen, leaving her trunk by the front door.
"Ahh mum! I love your cooking!" Lily said, already biting into the warm tasty treat. Syrup glided off the fork and drizzled onto the plate.
"Always the best for my little flower….s" she added as Petunia came into the kitchen.
"Mum, the kitchen is a mess! Look at all that dirt on the floor," she shrieked pointing at a brilliant white floor. "Someone could die if mold starts growing!"
Lily snorted in her orange juice and broke out into fits off laughter. Her face turned bright red and matched her fiery locks.
"What? What's so funny?" Petunia asked, tautly primping her lovely flaxen voluminous hair while pursing her lips in confusion.
Lily fought down her laughter, "Who'd've thought a flower was afraid of dirt?"
Her mom failed at trying to suppress her laughter and giggled as Petunia glared daggers at them both.
"Well, Lily, I know you certainly aren't," looking down at her with a covetous yet mocking glint in her eye. Lily was taken aback. She knew her sister's looks like the back of her hand. Was her sister actually jealous of her? Of what? Intelligence? No, not Petunia. All she really cared about was looks and attention.
"Oh yes, I'm acquainted with dirt," Lily said lightly, getting back to the conversation, "I often roll around on it laughing at you!"
Petunia's lips crushed together, a look of determination in her eyes, "So you admit that you roll around in dirt, like a filthy animal- like a dirty pig!"
"If I'm not mistaken, pigs are naturally dirty. I naturally roll on the ground with laughter at your pathetic comebacks… so yes! I admit it!"
"Oho! That's rich! Rich as the dirt you roll in."
"Well we get food from that dirt so I'd imagine it would be rich!"
"Oh yes! All hail Lily, Queen of the Mud!! She's the richest of us all-- in pounds of animal dung!"
"Pounds of animal dung--Oh I thought Vernon was your boyfriend!" Lily remarked coolly as Petunia shook with anger.
"Girls! Break it up!" their mother yelled. "This is the last meal we have with Lily until Christmas! Let's make it a nice one!"
The pancakes were cold. Lily blamed the prissy pansy.
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