Summary: I hate the Gryffindors and their stupid little cliques and the pumpkin juice and having to pretend like everything's okay. I want to play the piano. [Lily/Lucius.]
Disclaimer: Not mine, characters are all JK's. I'm depressed, listening to too much Tori Amos (Mr. Zebra and I Don't Like Mondays) and all that jazz. Anyway. I was gonna have the last line be some lines from I Don't Like Mondays, but I decided that it needed to be romantic, more Lily/Lucius than just Lily. Last scene seems rushed to me, but that could be me. Overall, I like it.
Books fell in front of his face on the table as she dropped them down, falling into the chair across from him. "I don't like this place anymore, Lucius."
He looked up from his homework, pushing her books aside absently. "I thought you loved Hogwarts, Lily."
"I don't. I hate it, hate it hate it. I hate everything about it. The Gryffindors and their stupid cliques and the pumpkin juice and even Quidditch and having to pretend like everything's okay. I want to play the piano."
Lucius sat back, his eyes on the petite redhead. "You don't have to pretend like everything's okay."
Lily sighed, making vague gestures with her left hand. "Yes, yes I do. You don't know, you're a Slytherin. It's all right for you to be imperfect. Me..." her voice grew bitter. "Everyone thinks I'm so perfect, that I have to be so nice and so beautiful and smart and I hate it. I don't want to be perfect."
"Then don't be," Lucius said simply.
"...I think it's too late for me now, Lucius...I'm a good girl, a Gryffindor," she said, and untied her scarf, throwing it across the table so that it slid to the other side and fell on the floor, lying in an abandoned red-and-gold pool. "I wish I was a Slytherin. I wish I had a piano."
-
"I hate Mondays, Lucius."
Lucius looked down at her and rolled his eyes as she offered up her books for him to carry. "Mondays are just like every other day of the week."
"No they're not," Lily said as she walked beside him. "Mondays are horrible, Mondays are awful. Mondays are the real world coming back to slam you in the face."
"You can't live your life on just Saturdays and Sundays," he pointed out, wryly.
"...but I don't mind Tuesdays or Wednesdays or Thurdsdays or Fridays...but Monday is always so mean and spiteful. Like it's on purpose."
"It's just a day. It can't be spiteful," he said, too sensibly.
"But it is. I don't like Mondays...I don't like Mondays," she said, and her voice was very soft and very sad.
"I think you're so silly, Lily."
She turned at him, almost in a rage. "I don't want to be sensible. I'm so tired of it. I hate it. I wish I had a piano."
Lucius held up one hand in a pacifying gesture, then had to make a grab for her books. "Why do you?"
Her fingers were making restless chords on her thighs, drumming back and forth like they were on a keyboard. Her response was almost offhand, her focus clearly on the music in her head. "I like the piano...I don't have to be anything to a piano."
"You don't have to be anything to me, either." Lucius said quietly.
"Yes I do...you don't even know, it's not even your fault...," Lily said, distracted. Her hands hit an imaginary crescendo and curled into fists before tapping chords out on her skirt again. "But everyone wants me to be something. To be perfect, to be smart, to be silly, to be honest, to be...innocent and sweet and naieve. And sometimes I don't want to be."
You were made to be sweet and innocent and naieve--"Someday I'll get you a piano, Lily."
Quietly, disbelieving and resigned: "If you say so, Lucius."
-
"Why are you so stupid, Lily?"
His voice was too loud, he knew. He shouldn't be yelling out here, sitting by the lake. People would hear him. And besides, Lucius Malfoy didn't get angry enough to start yelling. Not over a girl, anyway. Especially a Muggleborn girl. But he couldn't control it.
"I'm not stupid, Lucius," she said quietly, staring at the grass between her feet.
"Yes, you are! James Potter! What is wrong with you?!" he ranted, knowing that he looked ridiculous and not caring.
"There's nothing wrong with James, Lucius...he's a nice boy. He's smart and he plays Quidditch and he's funny and he's so easy to be in love with."
Lucius's fists curled. Easy to be in love with? "But he doesn't know you, Lily," he said, quiet, angry, and intense. She sat very still, looking down at the grass between her shoes.
"No one knows me. It doesn't make any difference, anyway."
How can you say that?! his mind screamed. How could you?! You can't give yourself away like some worthless package! You deserve better than that! he wanted to say, but he couldn't say them, not to Lily Evans, not to a Mudblood. "I know you."
"No, you don't. You just think you do."
Her voice wasn't cold or angry. It was just resigned, like nothing she said or did mattered. "I know you better than James Potter ever will," Lucius said, only half-aware he was babbling. "He's so shallow, he'll never care about you the way I can care about you."
"But you don't care about me, Lucius. You can...but you don't."
I love you more than anything else in the world-- but he couldn't say it. "But you deserve more than him, Lily. You're beautiful, you're so beautiful and precious and you need someone who knows you..."
"...and someone who loves me."
God, she was infuriating! "...why, Lily?"
Her voice was very small and very cold when she spoke, still not looking up at him. "Because you never bought me a piano."
You never told me you loved me.
-
"I heard you're engaged." His voice was cold and bland--he could control his anger now, no longer a teenager, no longer as infatuated as he had been.
"So did I." Her voice, too, was level, and her face calm. Only a flicker in her emerald eyes gave her away, and Lucius caught it. When he spoke, his voice was coldly disapproving.
"I don't like him, Lily."
She raised her chin defiantly. "Well, you don't have to like him. You don't have to marry him."
"But why do you have to marry him?" he asked, annoyed.
She was haughty, now. And condescending. "Because he loves me, silly. You were always so silly, Lucius."
How could she? How dare she?! He tried to make his voice cold, but it came out strained. "I think that you're so silly...you don't love him, Lily," he said, and there was an undertone of desperation in his tone.
She knew him too well after all these years, and she caught it. Her voice was more steady, more in control. "You don't know that."
"Yes, I do," he said, and this time there was quiet sincerity in his voice.
Lily's voice twisted. "He loves me, okay? He loves me and he makes me laugh and he makes me feel beautiful. You only make me worse, Lucius."
Lucius watched her quietly--she was trying to stop herself now. She was angry and tired. "But you don't want to be good, Lily," he said softly. "You weren't made to be a good little girl. You were made to play the piano."
Her voice was cold, angry. "You've never heard me play the piano, Lucius."
He was untouched. "And has James?"
She hesitated, but she wouldn't lie to him. "...no."
"Lily, does he even know you play the piano?" Lucius asked, annoyed with concern.
"I haven't told him yet," she said defiantly.
"Then why are you marrying him? You can't marry a man who doesn't even know you, Lily..."
She was as stubborn as he was, maybe even more. And she was lying to herself. "...he does know me."
Lucius knew he was getting to her. He could see the flicker in her eyes. "Not well enough," he said gently.
"I think it is well enough," she said, and he knew that he had lost her. "I think that it doesn't really matter, Lucius...marriage doesn't matter. James doesn't matter, you don't even matter."
"What does matter?" he asked, angry now.
"...playing the piano."
There was a silence. "What do you want, Lily?"
She gave him a flat stare. "No one cares what I want, Lucius. Nobody ever cares what I want."
"I care."
"Not enough..." she said, bitterly. "Not enough to buy me a piano."
-
He cupped his hands over her eyes, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Happy wedding day, Lily."
She turned around, pulling his hands down. "Lucius!" She laughed, then peered over his shoulder at a sheet-covered object with a gold bow. She walked over to it, Lucius behind her. "What is this?"
"Well, it's not that hard," Lucius said, and he pulled the cover off of it. "Big, black, has white keys and three pedals..."
Lily's mouth opened in sheer shock and surprise, and one hand flew up to it. Her voice was nearing a whisper with excitement. "You got me a baby grand piano for a wedding present?!"
If anything, Lucius was cold as ice. Cool, nonchalant. It meant nothing to him. "Well, it's what you wanted, isn't it?" ...right.
Lily threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Better be careful, James'll get jealous," he whispered.
"I don't care, let him be jealous. Lucius, darling, I could hug you, I could kiss you, I could twirl you around in the air. Why in the world did you get me a piano?!" she asked, indeed twirling around with him.
Lucius hugged her briefly then pushed her away. "I thought that you should remember me...remember that somebody knows how much you love the piano."
Her eyes were bright with tears. "I'll always love you, Lucius."
"I...I love you, Lily."
Lily's eyes spilled over and she leaned down, bringing a hand up to her face to try to blot them away. "I'm sorry...sorry that I married James," she said, her voice thick.
"No." Lucius's voice was unusually tender as he handed her his handkerchief. "I'm sorry that I didn't love you sooner."
Lily wiped her eyes on it, holding it up near her face. "You always loved me, though...I think that I was very stupid sometimes, Lucius."
Lucius smiled at her, tilting her face up gently. "I think that you were very alive, and that you were very sad."
Her eyes began to water again, and she sniffled. "I...I don't want to be sad anymore."
Lucius nodded, still holding her face with one hand. "That's why you married James. But just remember...even if you are sad, you'll always have the piano." He released her gently and stepped back, and she wiped her face, quickly swallowing her sobs.
"Thank you Lucius, thank you so much...I'll play for you. Come on, Lucius...I'll play about Mondays." And in her white wedding dress, she slid onto the piano bench, caressing the keys for a moment with her fingers before she hit the first note. A wide smile spread over her face, and Lucius stepped forward to stand behind the bench as she played.
Soon, James would come over and want to talk to Lily, want to hear her play, want to have her all to himself. And he would...but this song, this moment, and this Lily, would always belong to Lucius Malfoy.