This spring will be the third anniversary of this story. Great. I love it, I truly do, but its nickname as "nightmare-story" is pretty much settled. But I have a year and a half of high school left, and I realized recently I really don't want to carry this into college. So…perhaps I will be pushed by necessity into writing faster. And bug me if I haven't updated in two months.
Just to make it clear: I began writing this when I was only thirteen – the style and wording is not as good as I write now. I now consider this to be just one big, giant practice story. On the other hand, corrections in grammar and punctuation are very welcome. I went through hell trying to get this loaded – had to go through it, correcting paragraphs six or seven times. I believe I got the majority of the typos, but please, if you see any others, tell me. Praise and criticism amuse me alike.
For anyone who's curious: I'm seventeen.
Disclaimer: The essence of the story – all background information – comes from Ms. Rowling's brilliant mind. Rose, David, and other miscellaneous minor characters come from my own not-so-brilliant mind. Some happenings that sound suspiciously familiar (i.e. love potions) come from the movie Practical Magic, and also the characters Anetka and Mary come from the book A Coal Miner's Bride of the Dear America series, though I've developed their character in my own way, of course.
Book One - The Way Things Came To Be
Part One
It all began – or ended – one September night. A woman lay in incredible pain on a bed. Her husband, who was very pale, stood beside her, holding her hand tightly. She would wince and jerk with each contraction. The doctor leaning over her shook his head. It was near hopeless, he knew - the woman was not strong. It was a strange case, already – four months into her second pregnancy, another embryo had been detected in the womb, and had continued to grow while the first child matured and was born. Now it was the younger child's turn. She had had problems in labor before, with both of her two daughters – who, incidentally, were in the next room – and he feared that this one would finish her off. But the baby – it had a chance.
The woman refused to cry out – she didn't want to frighten her other children. At intervals she would give a little whimper – and that was it. Her husband could not have spoken if he had tried.
In the next room, a one-year-old and a five-month-old were sitting in their cots. They could both sense something was very wrong (all small children can, you know), but they did not know what. The elder finally began to vent her uneasiness by poking her younger sister through the bars of their cots – continually. But the baby ignored her sister, as she was to do all through her childhood years.
Three hours later – too much later, the doctor knew – a thin wail cut through the air. The suffering woman's body finally collapsed in exhaustion and a degree of peace. The doctor performed the necessary procedures, and at long last a tiny, baby girl lay in her mother's arms. The father sank to his knees – not entirely voluntarily. The mother, gazing at her third child, recovered for an instant the strength that was leaving her so rapidly. She glanced at her husband to make sure he was paying attention – how could he not have been?
"Rose Maria," Mary Williams whispered. William Williams nodded, comprehending. Looking at her daughter again, she understood, in the strange way dying people do, that she would not be there to watch her grow. "William." He immediately looked up at her, alarmed at her weak tone. She slowly took his hand. "Take care of her."
"I wi-" he broke off, staring at her as the realization of what she meant hit him. "We – we both will!" he cried, willing her to agree with him. Slowly, painfully, Mary shook her head.
"No, William. Take care of her – of all three of them. Find someone who loves them as much as I do." As slow tears slid down his face, she took her hand from his hand and put it on his shoulder. "Please, William. Promise me."
"I – I promise," he choked out. The reality of what was happening before his eyes stunned him. He slowly gathered his daughter - Rose Maria Williams – into his arms. "I love you," he whispered.
She smiled. "I love you, too." And with those words, Mary Williams closed her eyes and breathed her last.
Later; little, motherless Rose was placed in the cot beside the younger baby. The five-month-old reached out a tiny, inquisitive hand to the infant's cheek.
So the scene closes – for now. But one more unknown remains here - what are the names of Rose's sisters?
The one-year-old's name is Petunia Marianna Williams.
And the five-month-old's name is Lily Marie Williams.
The next few weeks for William were nearly unbearable. The only thing he was really conscious of was his last promise to Mary – to find a loving mother for his girls. And in the end, he succeeded. He found a young couple – if he had been fully conscious of the world, perhaps he might have noticed they were a bit strange – that got the same light in their eyes when they looked at Petunia, Lily, and Rose that he and Mary had. The girl, actually, was expecting herself in January. Their names were Anetka and Nicki Evans.
So after several long talks with both of them, William was convinced that they loved his daughters as much as they would have done if they had been their own.
The adoption papers were finally signed, and William was able to finally able to go home and ponder over what he had done.
He hadn't wanted to give them up at first, but he had quickly realized that without Mary beside him, he could never be the kind of father his daughters deserved. He doubted that any of them – with the exception of Petunia – would remember their biological parents. But they wouldn't need to; they now had a very fine substitute. And so William Williams disappears – forever? – from the scene.
Anetka and Nicki were indeed a witch and a wizard, and they had many long, private talks trying to decide whether or not to adopt these supposedly Muggle girls. But in the end they didn't have a choice – they had to give them a home.
And so Petunia, Lily, and Rose – once Williams, now Evans – moved in. At first, they cried for their parents, but soon - Lily and Rose first - they accepted Anetka and Nicki as their mother and father.
Now Anetka was a bit different from ordinary witches – she had special powers, powers that had been in her family for generations, since the Middle Ages. It was called Practical Magic. Nothing really different – just gifts that didn't require a wand, and rules that were followed very precisely. She could move things with her eyes, or light a candle by blowing on it, and so on. And every generation in her family there would be two girls – a brunette and a redhead. Only one of them would get married, and she, in her turn, would have two girls. And the sisters would be very close to each other, and the older would always care for the younger. It was tradition. So far no Practical Magic witch had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
So when Anetka adopted three baby girls, she was a bit uncertain, being very well versed in the laws of her own family's magic. One of the first things she noticed was that Petunia had dark hair, Lily had bright red hair, and Rose had a lighter, softer red that curled all over her head. Anetka wondered if it was just coincidence, or if there was something more meaningful behind it.
One day, soon after the adoption, Anetka was flipping through her book that held all the rules, laws, formulas for potions, and histories of former Practical Magic witches, when she came across a blank page near the end of the book. Or what she had thought was a blank page. There was a message at the top:
Anetka-
Don't worry about your daughters. You have been chosen by Practical Magic to do something very special – bring up four girls instead of two, and only three of them will be witches. The child you now carry will be your fourth and last, and don't hesitate to send them to Hogwarts – but also teach them about Practical Magic. Everything is arranged.
-PM
Anetka stared at the message for several minutes in disbelief. She wasn't sure what to do. The fact that Practical Magic had written to her was incredible. Then a cry interrupted her thoughts. She jerked her head up and hurried into the nursery. Rose was wailing about the unfairness of it all from her nest of blankets, and a guilty-looking Petunia was sitting beside her.
"Petunia, what did you do now?" Anetka asked in despair as she awkwardly leaned over and picked up Rose. Her own unborn child gave a protesting kick that made its mother catch her breath. Even at six months, her baby was strong.
"I do nothing! I not do it!" cried Petunia, unashamed of her blatant lies.
Anetka shook her head and continued to walk around the room with Rose, singing a lullaby comfortingly to her.
Gradually, Rose's sobs hushed and were reduced to mere hiccups. Anetka studied her. Yes, she was all right now. Her great green eyes were missing the tears that just a short time ago had filled them. Anetka decided it would not be wise to put her back in the same area as Petunia, so instead carried her back to the kitchen. On the table was a cradle that contained Lily. The baby was awake and appeared ill at ease. The cradle was a style that was designed to hold two babies. Nicki had bought it as soon as it had become apparent how much Lily and Rose needed each other. Indeed, they refused to go to sleep unless the other was beside her.
So Anetka gently laid Rose down next to Lily. At once a smile broke across Lily's face, and she eagerly reached for "Roe".
Sitting down, Anetka thought about how different her girls were – for already she and Nicki thought of them as "theirs".
Petunia was the pushy, provoking one – sometimes it seemed to Anetka and Nicki that Petunia was trying to find out how many ways she could make her younger sisters cry. It took her quite a while to make Lily wail – she had to get pretty ingenious sometimes. With Rose it was a bit easier – perhaps because of her fragile state.
Lily was a really good girl – sweet and quiet. She was the one who could sit still the longest, and was the neatest at meals. But she was becoming very protective of Rose from Petunia's mischief. Nicki often said that Lily was going to break some man's heart someday – not intentionally, of course. But even at five, nearly six months, you could tell that Lily would be very attractive.
Rose – you couldn't tell quite yet. But as the weeks went by, more and more characteristics developed about her. For one, she really did idolize her older sister, Lily, and she began to want to do more and more things for her.
January arrived, and it brought along a fourth baby girl – Mary Evans, named after Petunia, Lily, and Rose's biological mother. A brunette with flashing brown eyes, her parents knew she was a fighter from the start.
Petunia held no mercy for the newcomer, and Lily was forced to go on the defense full time. But Mary was hurt anyway by Petunia's constant accusations that Mary was no "real sister". Lily spent her time arguing with her older sibling or comforting her youngest one. And so Lily gained another worshipper.
Mary's birth was the test for Anetka and Nicki's degree of love for Petunia, Lily, and Rose, and they passed with flying colors. They made no distinction between the four.
So the months passed. Lily reached her first birthday second of May, and Petunia met her second on seventh of August, followed by Rose's first on the ninth of September.
The months flew by. For Anetka and Nicki, it was wonderful seeing Lily's, Rose's, and Mary's first step and (for the two younger girls) word. Petunia did indeed forget her true parents, and soon adapted to life as an Evans. It soon became apparent that Lily and Rose were indeed witches (from pure curiosity with Nicki's wand) and Anetka quickly drilled into their minds the principles of Practical Magic. With Petunia, however, it was hopeless. She refused to even take responsibility for her sisters' welfare. In the end, Anetka resigned defeat and transferred that responsibility to Lily, who accepted it solemnly.
As Lily, Rose, and Mary continued to mature and develop the basics of Practical Magic (i.e. pouring their cereal without touching the box), Petunia began to feel more and more left out. Lily noticed and tried to make it easier by encouraging Rose and Mary to not do much magic in front of her – she herself made a wholehearted effort. But it was in vain in a household run by magic. Petunia's feeling of exclusion soon turned to resentment.
Anetka and Nicki believed in knowledge of every kind, so when the girls became old enough, they were sent to Muggle nursery and primary school – Petunia first, then Lily and Rose together, and at last Mary. Petunia, having finally discovered a "normal" (as she had begun to term the Muggle world) atmosphere, actually lessened her tormenting of her sisters. All four proved to be extremely bright, and everyone was happy.
At last Mary had started primary school, and the girls became even more serious about their studies.
Although it had only been a few weeks after the adoption when finally even Petunia began to call Anetka and Nicki Mummy and Daddy, one of the promises the couple had made to Mr. Williams was that when Petunia, Lily, and Rose were old enough, they were to be told that they had not been born into the Evans family. So when Rose reached her sixth birthday, Anetka sat all three down for a talk. They explained to them about their real parents, but how they still loved them as much as they did Mary. All took it pretty well, and Petunia was secretly relieved, taking comfort from then on that she was not a "true" Evans daughter. Then Nicki informed them that they had a choice – they could either continue calling them Mummy and Daddy, or they could just address them as Anetka and Nicki. All three chose the latter, even though all it really meant was a change in pronunciation. Mary, in her usual way of copying Lily, and perhaps a little awkward at being the only one in the house that used the words Mummy and Daddy, soon switched over as well. Anetka and Nicki didn't have a problem with this – they were desperate for Mary to have a sense of belonging after Petunia's harassment over Mary's blood relations.
One day, when the Evanses went to the park, Lily, Rose, and Mary walked over to the miniature lake, while Petunia swung slowly in a swing looking at a picture book, and Anetka and Nicki sat on a nearby bench, talking and keeping one eye on their girls. Soon they spotted an ice cream kiosk, and Nicki took everyone's order. He and Anetka walked away to get it – they needed four hands to carry all of them.
Lily, Rose, and Mary had each taken their shoes off and were dangling their feet in the still water. Lily was sitting between Rose and Mary, and they were leaning against Lily's shoulders. Suddenly, both Lily and Rose felt a tug on each of their pigtails.
"Carrot top! Carrot top!" A voice taunted them.
The three girls whirled around. Two dirty, insecure boys, apparently a few years older than Lily, stood behind them. Once again they chanted, "Carrot top! Carrot top!" Rose and Mary shrank against their older sister's side with dark, frightened eyes.
Lily, however, only turned back around with a soft whisper. "Don't listen."
Rose and Mary obediently turned around, though they took a firmer grip on their sister's hand.
"Awww, what is it? Are the little girls afraid to talk to strangers?" the dirtier boy teased. Lily decided it was too noisy in this part of the park, and it was time to leave. Silently she stood up and reached for their shoes. Rose, in her usual way, was faster, and snatched up all three pairs. Mary clambered to her feet last of all, and with Rose and Mary still clasping Lily's hand as though it were their last hope of salvation, they started to walk away.
An insecure boy is a very interesting thing. He is prone to attack the weak and helpless – or at least things less weak and helpless than him – in an effort to make his own world more safe and secure. Of course, it really does no such thing, but all insecure boys seem to hold dearly to this false image.
"Hey, wait, little girls!" this incredibly insecure boy shouted. "We're not done!" And with those words, he picked up a rock and threw it at them. It hit Lily squarely on the shoulder. She stopped and stiffened, and, unlike most seven-year-olds, did not burst into tears. She understood that crying would not stop the pain – if anything it would it would simply be rewarded with another rock.
Lily, with this brief stop to collect her thoughts, would have continued on her way, if it had not been for Mary.
Rose, when she saw the injury, and the small drop of blood that appeared on Lily's sundress, let out a small cry with the exclamation "Lily!" Mary, however, didn't say anything, only stopped, grew very white, and stared. Only one thought went through her mind: He hurt Lily. He hurt Lily. HE HURT LILY! He, the ignorant boy, hurt the girl who had protected her since before she could remember. Therefore, what happened next was entirely understandable.
Mary released Lily's hand, and flew like a mother tigress defending her young (to say she was like a mother cat would have been an understatement) at the offending insecure boy. He was so surprised at her rush that he didn't move, and was thus knocked to the ground. Mary was on top of him in a second, shrieking her outrages as she beat the boy's face with her tiny, five-year-old fist. The boy's comrade stood there in shock, watching as this young whirlwind descended upon his friend, then began to creep away, as though he had formed some thoughts that he could escape unnoticed. Lily and Rose watched in shock for a second or two, and then ran to their enraged sister.
"Mary! Mary!" Lily cried, she and Rose doing their best to pull Mary off the now screaming and crying boy.
Meanwhile, Nicki and Anetka were on their way back from the ice cream booth. They first caught sight of Petunia, who was still swinging slowly back and forth, gazing at the book, oblivious of the circumstances afflicting her three younger sisters. Anetka and Nicki were not so blind, however. They stopped, dumbstruck, as they came within sight of their youngest daughter briskly banging the head of a boy nearly twice her age against the ground, and their two middle daughters trying to pull her off him. Nicki was the first to react.
"What on..." he gasped, then shoving the two ice cream bars he was carrying (Rose always got what Lily did – so did Mary, come to think of it) into Anetka's overloaded hands, started running to his daughters.
With difficulty he pried the young warrior off the boy, who, finally freed of his oppressor, fled, sobbing. It took Mary a minute or two to realize there was no one to punish, and only then did she finally stop struggling. Nicki set her down, just as Anetka came running up, minus Petunia's ice cream.
"What happened?" she cried.
Lily caught hold of Nicki's arm.
"Please don't be mad, Nicki," she implored.
Nicki had never been able to resist any of his daughters' green eyes.
"I'm not, sweetie," he told her. "Just tell Anetka and me what happened." Lily burst into explanation. As she talked, the rage slowly left Mary's eyes.
When Lily reached the part about the rock, Anetka let out a cry, similar to Rose's, and hurried to inspect Lily's shoulder. Even though Lily tried to make nothing of it, saying she didn't even feel it anymore, Anetka and Nicki said that it was time to go home, despite Petunia's wailing. On the way to the car Lily finished her narrative. By now Mary had begun to be a bit edgy concerning her future, and Petunia was staring at Mary, a bit nervously.
Anetka assured Mary that it was all right, it was a provoked attack – and then Mary asked Nicki something that had occurred to her after the fight.
"Nicki," she asked. "Will you teach me how to fight?"
He stared at his small girl in surprise - to him, she was still a baby, a toddler still learning her ABC's (and that had really not been all that long ago).
"What for, sweetie?" he asked, lifting her up onto his lap.
"To protect Lily," said the five-year-old seriously.
Nicki fought down a laugh and a smile. Mary's serious expression forbade it. But as he glanced down at Lily and Rose, he realized that perhaps there was a bit of sense in this request - even though they were not in danger now, there would be a day where they might need a protector.
So Nicki consented – on the condition that Mary would not use the lessons against Petunia. He told her that when she went to Hogwarts, she could learn hexes and spells to help in self-defense – but for now, she could learn the Muggle way.
Christmas came – Lily and Rose were seven. Christmas morning Anetka presented Petunia, Lily, Rose, and Mary with identical necklace boxes. Each proved to be a locket, identical except for their first initial engraved in beautiful calligraphy. Once opened, they each showed showed a three-way picture, and each locket had pictures of that girl's sisters. Even Petunia had a hard time hiding her delight with the delicate piece of jewelry. Lily, Rose, and Mary were overjoyed. It was a perfect Christmas.
Lily's eighth birthday arrived. It was a very happy day, in spite of Petunia's indifference.
That night Lily, Rose, and Mary went outside to the greenhouse.
"What are you doing, Lily?" Mary asked, stroking her black cat that she was carrying.
Lily had taken a large bowl under her arm. "Making a love potion," she answered. "Practical Magic," she added, pointing to the large book open to love potions.
"Can I make one too?" asked Rose. Lily smiled.
"Of course," she assented. Rose picked up a duplicate bowl. Mary silently took one also.
One makes a Practical Magic love potion by taking petals and naming the characteristics of the boy she wants to marry.
Lily slowly, thoughtfully picked a petal from an azalea. "He'll be able to fly a broomstick perfectly," she whispered. Taking another petal, she continued, "He will be very clever." A petal of a rose, accompanied with-"He will love me completely, and never dream of doing anything against me." She continued to select petals, asking for black hair and eyes, and little other things like that. She finished soon, and stepped back for Rose's turn.
Rose hesitated, and then stepped forward. "He – he'll be the twin brother of Lily's lover." A petal from the same azalea that Lily used. "He will be identical to his brother in almost every way," she said carefully. She continued, using basically every characteristic Lily had, with a few of her own additions. Lily smiled.
When Rose first began, Mary, in a whisper so soft that neither of her sisters heard, started her own potion.
She was the most devoted Practical Magic witch out of the three of them. She was the one who had practically memorized the rules and histories of all the most famous Practical Magic witches. She knew very well the rules of love potions.
It was customary for the husband to die before his Practical Magic wife and for him to look quite different from her. It was a rule that Practical Magic witches forget about their love potions until after they were married, and for them to not recognize the man they made the potion for.
Mary's heart was pounding in her ears. She was completely terrified with what she was about to do, but do it she must. She had to. She must ensure it.
With a trembling hand, she reached for the first petal.
"He'll be Lily's lover's best friend. He'll be very clever..." Mary stopped. For a moment she wasn't sure if she could continue, then she heard a part of her screaming, You must! For Lily! So she went on determinedly, picking flower petals as she spoke, "He will have black hair and black eyes – justlikemine." She said the last part very fast. "And – and I'll die before he will, and I'll know when I see him that he's the one I wished for. I'll also remember my potion when I see him."
She was finished. For a moment she stood there, feeling a great sense of doom upon her, terrified at what she had done - blatantly gone against every principle that Practical Magic had set down – then she turned and walked up to where Lily and Rose were waiting, their bowls under their arms.
"You did one too, Mary?" Lily asked. Mary nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Lily looked closely at her youngest sister. She seemed a bit pale, and Lily wondered what Mary had asked for. But she decided not to ask.
The three sisters walked back inside the house with their bowls of petals, and headed upstairs to the balcony. They knew what came next. All three of them stood side by side, lifting their bowls up into the night air. A full moon shone down on them. Gently, a breeze began to blow, first stirring the petals, then lifting them up into the air. They became three separate funnels at first, swishing this way and that, as though the wind were inspecting them, then Lily and Rose's petals intertwined, through each other, again and again. Mary's petals mixed once with Lily's, shivered, and broke apart from the others.
Surprised, Lily glanced at the owner's face, whose eyes had never left her potion, and whose face only became a shade whiter at this motion of her petals. Lily then returned to her own.
The petals continued their upward journey silently, Lily's and Rose's continuing to mix, until finally they disappeared in the stars. The sisters released their bowls, guiding them back inside the greenhouse with their eyes.
After that, they went back to their room (they shared a double bed). Five minutes later the elder two were sound asleep, but Mary remained awake, thinking about what she had done.
To go purposefully and clearly against Practical Magic – it scared her. She knew how strict and powerful it was. She remembered another Practical Magic girl, Sally, her ancestor, who too had tried to work against a love potion – though she hadn't gone to the degree Mary had. Sally had only come up with as many bizarre and ludicrous characteristics as she could some up with – it hadn't worked. Practical Magic had invented a man that fulfilled every requirement.
That's why she had gone against Practical Magic itself. She wanted to ensure that she would never fall in love. Why? Because to her seven-year-old mind, love was a hindrance – it would distract her from protecting Lily - which she had sworn to do. So she must never fall in love.
She wasn't sure what she had really done with that love potion – she wasn't sure what Practical Magic had done with her love potion. She only hoped that it would work, that Practical Magic would leave her alone, and just make certain she would never fall in love.
…And far away, in another city, James Potter was about to be introduced to Sirius Black.