AN: Again, all you recognize comes from the wonderful JK Rowling, who, sadly, I am not.
Chapter 2 – Insults and Misery
Lily had been exiled to the back seat, despite the purpose of the family outing, which was to celebrate her appointment as Head Girl. She grumbled a bit, but fell silent rather quickly as she was attempting to keep the peace for her mum's sake. Petunia spoke about her wedding plans the entire trip; the pink – PINK! – Bride's maids' dresses, how Petunia was going to select a florist in the next few weeks, a caterer, a band, etc. Lily would rather have sat through a double lecture History of Magic class and served detention for a month than listen to Petunia talk about her plans and have her sister make snide comments and unpleasant expressions. Petunia went so far as to suggest that Lily dye her hair so that she wouldn't be such an eyesore in the wedding photos. Laurel had interrupted, forbidding Lily to do such a thing and scolding Petunia for suggesting such a mean thing. Lily was a bride's maid, not because Petunia had chosen her in an outpouring of sisterly affection, but because the money their father had set aside for Petunia's wedding would only be released to her if Lily was a bride's maid. Brendan Evans was nothing if not realistic; he had always had a keen eye on the relationship between his daughters and knew that for Lily to be involved as his wife wished, Petunia would need a monetary reminder to rediscover her familial feelings. This fund did not require Petunia do anything to make Lily feel like a cherished member of the bridal party, mostly because Brendan knew that it was asking a bit more than his eldest daughter could manage. The engagement party was set for the day before Lily would return to Hogwarts from Christmas Hols and Lily was dreading it. She despised Vernon and could not – despite tremendous effort – find a good quality in him, except perhaps that he did love Petunia, though whether that counted as a good quality was questionable. He was a beefy man, with no neck, a large mustache, and a bloated belly that spoke to a life of extreme indulgence. He wore obnoxiously normal suits, not even a fun pocket square or tie to lighten his appearance. He was critical, bigoted, insensitive and rude. His very presence in their lives encouraged all of Petunia's worst excesses of funds and temper, and his presence in the Evans' home brought about the worst of Lily's moods. He was an abrasive abusive sort of man; the sort, Lily decided, who thought his day was not complete without reducing his secretary to tears.
When Laurel finally reached the hotel they were staying at, a bellboy unloaded the car and they were escorted inside to check in. Laurel passed the keys to the parking valet and signed for the room. She tucked an arm around Lily's shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.
"This will be wonderful girls. I made arrangements with the spa for us to get pampered tomorrow and we have reservations for tonight. I thought we'd go shopping together the day after the spa. Petunia, you and I can shop for a mother of the bride gown while Lily, sweetheart, you can meet with the girls the day after that, like you planned. How does that sound?"
"Thanks, Mum. I really appreciate this trip," Lily said, knowing that her mother was powering through because she believed her girls needed her. She was right; Petunia needed her to help with her wedding and Lily just plain needed her. Without her father, she was adrift in some of her choices.
As a young child, Lily had wanted to be a Princess – she would marry Prince Andrew as Charles was too old; she had later realized that it was one of those unattainable dreams, and refocused on becoming a teacher. Then she'd received her Hogwarts letter, and she's been caught up in the magic of it all. A career had become the last thing on her mind until fifth year when at her career counselling with Professor McGonagall, she had discussed all her options. Lily had been amazed to learn how many options there were. She had pursued all the classes which would benefit the different options she had settled on. Professor, Healer, Auror. She was leaning more towards the first two, but with the dangers presented by the current political landscape of Wizarding Britain, she thought that having a very good grasp on Defense could only benefit her. McGonagall had also noted Slughorn's suggestion that she open her own apothecary and work in the potion's field. Flitwick had suggested a special division in the ministry that worked on new spells and how to create them. McGonagall had encouraged her to try to find her passion in those things, arranging for her to tutor in a variety of subjects, for her to work in the Hospital Wing and learn a bit about Magical medicine.
"You're very welcome, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you. I just wish we could do more to celebrate." Laurel beamed at her baby - for no matter how old her Lily was, Laurel still considered Lily her baby – and continued, "Isn't that right Petunia?"
Petunia grumbled something unintelligible.
Misery was the best way to describe dinner. The lovely little restaurant that Laurel had made a reservation at would have been wonderful had it just been Laurel and Lily. The addition of Petunia had made dinner an uncomfortable affair, the poor waiter was young and both unused to and unable to handle someone as verbally abusive and demanding as Petunia. Laurel had tried to mitigate Petunia's behavior by quietly advising her eldest to be kinder to the young man, but Petunia had responded by becoming even more demanding. Lily had wanted to sink through the floor in embarrassment, as more than a few patrons of the restaurant had turned to see who was causing such a commotion.
At least with the day of pampering that Laurel had arranged, it was supposed to be a day of quiet relaxation. Lily enjoyed her massage and facial and she and her mother delighted in the attention of the friendly staff, who were more accommodating than house elves. Lily had chosen to have her nails painted a pretty pink, while her mother had chosen red. Petunia had chosen a very plain taupe-y color that made Lily question why Petunia had even gotten her nails done. They went shopping after, which Petunia complained about, as she didn't understand why Lily needed so many clothes when she went to school in uniform. Petunia had never missed an opportunity to pick at her sister. Lily was almost able to ignore her sister…almost. She had, over the years, become almost deaf to her sister's viper tongue, and the way insults rolled off it with ease. However, she was quite sure that if she had had to spend another ten minutes in company with her sister, she might have screamed, or worse yet, cried. She refused to give Petunia the satisfaction of knowing that she had been upset by her remarks, so she decided to soak in the tub once they were back in their hotel room, and locked herself in with a book to read. She had a good cry and emerged wrinkled, but with a firm grip on her emotions.
She turned in early, claiming that she wanted to get an early start the next day to meet with her friends. This appeased her mum, though Petunia would rather have had her sleep on a different planet than share a bed like they had as children on vacation.
She lay still with her eyes closed and listened to Laurel and Petunia arguing in low tones. "I am not sleeping in the same bed as the freak. She's going to contaminate me with her freakishness!"
"Petunia Elizabeth Evans! She is your sister and she is not a freak. She is gifted beyond our understanding. She loves you, Petunia; she always has," Laurel's voice was low and soft.
"I wish she'd never been born," Petunia spat coldly.
Lily froze in the bed. Of all the things she had expected to hear, this was not one of them. Laurel's sharp inhale told Lily that this was not something Petunia had ever voiced before. "Petunia," Laurel whispered in an anguished tone. "How could you?"
Petunia climbed stiffly into the other bed and slapped a hand down on the light. With a sigh, Laurel slid in next to Lily. Lily felt her mother's warm breath skim over her hair. Laurel brushed a hand over Lily's hair, smoothing it. Lily felt something wet drop onto her forehead. Her mother was crying. Laurel pressed her face into Lily's hair and whispered, "I love you, sweetheart. I will always love you even when I don't understand you."
Lily pressed her eyes shut tight, warding off her own tears. Eventually, she could discern the steady breathing of her mother and sister as they slept. Her own tears slid silently down her cheeks. When she finally fell asleep, her eyes were swollen and she felt like misery was her middle name.