I didn't sleep well that night at all, perhaps because of the short nap I had taken earlier, perhaps because of the heat—most likely, though, because of what I found awaiting me downstairs when I had awoken from my nap.
I grabbed my wand and bounded down the stairs, my heart beating loudly against my chest. I moved quietly, stealthily, down the steps, listening carefully as I approached the bottom steps.
Another scream. This one I recognized as my mother's. Although it didn't exactly sound like a scream of terror…more like a squeal…
Brow furrowed, I stepped out onto the wood floor and made my way towards the living room, where my mum and Petunia were embracing, and my dad looked like he was about to be sick.
I cleared my throat. "Er…what's going on?" I asked, wand hanging limply at my side.
"Oh Lily, dear—your sister's going to be married!" My mum said, breaking from her embrace. She grabbed Petunia's left hand and shoved it up to her face level, so I could see the large sparkly diamond ring on her finger. Petunia stood silent next to her, with just the faintest trace of a smile on her face.
My throat swelled up. "Congratulations, Tuney," I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Apparently, either my face or my voice betrayed me, as Petunia merely sneered at me, marching out of the living room with her nose in the air.
"Did…I say something?" I asked, spinning around to watch Petunia huff up the stairs.
"Lily," My mum said, her voice close to shrill, "You could try to be happy for your sister. She's to be married!"
"I am happy for her, Mum," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "But don't expect me to be running around skipping for joy that she's marrying Vermin—"
My dad let out a loud snort, and my mother shot him a meaningful look. "Lily, what did I say about calling him that?"
"Sorry, sorry…"
When I woke the next morning, part of me wished it had been a dream. Not that there weren't worse people in the world that my sister could marry, but Vernon Dursley was hardly the Prince Charming she used to dream about when we played fairies in the backyard so many years ago. He was loud, rude, and altogether dim-witted, and had a temper even shorter than mine. When he got really angry, such as when I walked in on Tuney and him snogging once, his face blotched purple and red and he sputtered incoherently. He was fairly vile.
I leaned back in my bed, stretching my hands over my head as I looked out the window. Zephyr still hadn't returned from the night before, which was very strange indeed. I had left my bedroom window open for him, in the hopes that he might return in the middle of the night, but his food and water dishes remained untouched, and he was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, I got up, made my bed, and got dressed for the day. Until Zephyr returned, there was no escape to the Wizarding world, and I would be limited to the confines of my dull home once again. Only this time, with Petunia's marriage looming over the house.
When I walked downstairs and into the kitchen, Petunia was the only one sitting at the table. She was looking down at a book in her hand, concentrated intensely. I had to smile. Our love of reading was one of the few things that Petunia and I had in common anymore. I missed the days when we were children and would stay up late in her room, under her covers with a flashlight in my hand, as we read each other stories from a large fairy tale book my Mum had given us for Christmas. She had been so willing to believe in magic, then—wished, more than anything, that it could be real. But then, once she found out it was, I suppose it lost the appeal, I thought bitterly.
"Morning, Tuney," I chirped, pouring myself a generous bowl of cereal. "I expect Verm—Vernon will be over here today, right?"
Petunia stiffened, but didn't take her eyes off the book. She turned a page.
"Look, Tunes, I know that he and I haven't exactly got on very well before, but…truly, I am happy for you. And I'm sure—" I swallowed a bite of cereal, hoping that I sounded sincere, because I did really mean what I was saying, "I'm sure that if you really love him enough to marry him that I just, er—need to get to know him a little better."
There was silence for a moment, and Petunia lifted her icy blue eyes from the page. Her eyes were narrowed, her jaw set tight in her mouth, and his impossibly thin lips were, once again, disappearing from her face.
"If I really love him enough to marry him? Is that what you think this is? You think this is just—just a game or something—?"
"No! no —Tuney—no, that's not—that's not what I meant at all, I was trying—"
"You were trying to make everything about you, once again," she said shrilly, her voice growing louder. She began to rise from the table. "You think I'm marrying him to spite you! I hear what you call him—behind his back—I know what you think of him, Lily, and I DON'T CARE!" Her voice had grown louder and her face turned a bright scarlet sort of color. I felt my heart sink.
"Tuney, I—"
"Don't CALL me that!" she screeched, the vein in her neck throbbing wildly as she glared at me, every inch of her face indicating anger. Now it was my turn to stiffen.
"Fine. Petunia," I said with sardonic emphasis. "It's very plain to me that you don't care about what I think of Ver—Vernon, since he's absolute rubbish to me all the time. He treats me like I'm—like I'm some sort of—"
"Freak?" Petunia sneered, with an evil little smirk on his face. "He knows all about you, Lily. I had to tell him, didn't I? When we started to get—more serious, I told him, and you know what, Lily?" Her face took on a hard stare. "He said he always knew something was—abnormal about you. He'd thought it might have been a mental illness or something." I stared at her incredulously, my jaw nearly hitting the floor.
"How—how dare you—?" I sputtered, feeling my forehead and the tip of my ears turn red. "I was nothing but perfectly civil to him at first—"
"It doesn't matter," Petunia said, her smirk dropping her face back into blankness. "He said he'd be willing to look past it—be willing to look past you, I mean."
I shoved my chair into the table, walked briskly over to the sink and shoved my bowl in it, before spinning around to face her.
"Lucky you," I whispered, my face barely an inch away from hers. I spun on my heel and stomped up the steps, hoping that Petunia wouldn't be able to hear the small sob that I couldn't help but let escape from my lips.
I spent the next few hours shut up in my room with the door locked, poured over my Transfiguration book. I had already finished the required reading, but figured that I may as well read ahead to get more familiar with some of the more complicated spells. After all, this was our NEWT year, and Transfiguration was my worst subject (although, I did still get an 'Exceeds Expectations' on my OWL, as I had found out a few weeks earlier.)
Around one o'clock and then again around seven, my Mum knocked on my door to call me to lunch and dinner, but each time I protested that I wasn't hungry. Of course, I was, but I couldn't bear the thought of seeing Petunia again that day, and so I tried to assuage my rumbling stomach by promising myself that I would sneak down to the kitchen for some food after everyone else had gone to bed.
About an hour after Mum called me down to dinner, I heard a familiar hoot and rustle of feathers outside my window, and stood up from my schoolwork at once. Zephyr glided magnificently onto my window sill, proudly brandishing two new letters. My heart leapt with excitement at the possibility of a distraction from Petunia's awful sneer that kept playing over and over in my mind.
I patted Zephyr on the head and handed him a treat, before excitedly tearing open the first letter, written in Remus' regal script.
Dear Lily,
You'll be pleased to hear that James has finally stopped talking about you in his sleep. I can't say as much for when he is awake, but it's a start, no? I, on the other hand, am as tortured as ever. Each day is a struggle not to end my life in his presence. He and Sirius have my chained in the wine cellar and feed me scraps off the dinner table when they are feeling charitable. Save me, Lily Evans, your hexes are my only hope! By the time you read this letter, I may be dead!
I chuckled as I read the start of Remus' letter. He must have truly been enjoying himself at Potter's house, as I knew there was just recently a full moon, and he must have been completely exhausted. He had confided in me once that, of all the broken bones and bruises he had suffered from with his adventures with Potter and Black, that he had never experienced anything as painful as his monthly transformations. Sympathy welled inside of me as I continued to read his letter.
In all honesty, the summer has been relatively uneventful. I'm spending what time I can reading and what time I can't praying not to be on the wrong side of whatever mischief the others plan. Mr. Potter has been keeping us filled in on everything happening at the Ministry. The poor man – I can't imagine how difficult things must be for Aurors right now. I think, were I him, I'd retire and fill a teaching position at Hogwarts or something a bit less dangerous. (On second thought, the pranks of my friends may in truth be a worser fate than anything this Lord Voldemort can muster for his enemies.)
I paused for a moment, and read over his paragraph again, a frown on my face. "Mr. Potter has been keeping us filled in on everything happening at the Ministry." What did that mean? What things happening at the Ministry? Didn't he know that I was shut up here without any real source of news? I scanned the rest of his letter quickly, but there wasn't so much as a scrap of news. My eyebrows furrowed. Was he keeping things from me? I wondered if he had sensed my worry in my letter, and if perhaps that was the reason for his jokes—to put me at ease?
Frowning and still lost in my thoughts, I opened my other letter, and sighed. Another one from Potter.
Oi, Evans!
You can't just keep ignoring my letters! I spend hours a day trying to craft the perfect letter, and you don't even respond? I'm heartbroken!
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Evans, but we'd all like to see you. Especially Mooney—I saw him writing those love letters to you the other day— the git! Sirius and I reckon he hasn't been sleeping properly since he's been here—I expect he's pining away after you, night after night.
But to be honest, Evans—who wouldn't?
James
I huffed in annoyance as I tossed Potter's letter aside, but did smile a bit. My correspondence with Remus must have been absolutely infuriating to him, especially since I had yet to respond to his twenty-some letters he had sent me since the start of summer. Except for once, when I sent back a rather impolite phrase with a Bat-Bogey Hex attached to it—I would have to remember to apologize to Peter for that.
But one thing in James' letter was sticking with me, and perplexed me a bit. Remus wasn't sleeping? Surely, after his transformation, he would be physically weakened…he needed his sleep. I wondered what could have been plaguing his thoughts since I was sure it was not, as James so crudely suggested, me. Remus and I were merely friends—quite good friends, I might add. Not that I didn't find him extremely handsome—one would have to be blind not to find his angular jaw, big bright eyes, and genuine smile attractive—but we had never had romantic feelings for one another. No, we were perfect as friends.
I sat back down at my desk and pulled out a bit of spare parchment, dipping my feather quill in the ink pot beside me, and began to write.
Dear Remus,
Glad to hear that Potter has finally started to wise up, although his frequent letters don't indicate any chance of him ceasing to try to thoroughly annoy me before school begins.
Sorry to hear about the unbearable torture, although I do hope they're at least feeding you properly—from the looks of Black, he must need to eat five times a day to keep those muscles of his from deflating.
Glad to hear that Mr. Potter is keeping you all informed, although I daresay I would love to hear a bit of news about what's going on with the Ministry. If there's anything at all you can tell me (although do be careful, as owls are being intercepted left and right) I would be most gracious to hear it.
I do hope that you're taking care of yourself, Remus. It takes a lot of strength to deal with the lot you're with now, so I hope that you're resting and not pushing yourself beyond your limits.
Anyway, you must help me devise a plan to get your dear friend Potter from pestering my poor owl with his obnoxious letters.
Love from,
Lily
Dotting the final 'i' in my name, I read over the letter once more, hoping that perhaps this one would be able to squeeze a bit of news out of Remus. But, as I read over the final sentence of my letter, a stroke of pure brilliance came to me, and I quickly pulled out another piece of parchment from my desk and began writing.
My dear Remus,
Every day without your presence makes my heart weep, and I can only look forward to those days when we can be together at last—at Hogwarts. Our secret romance has been burdening me ever since we kissed so passionately goodbye that final day of school, with the promise that we would soon meet again. And yet, though the secrecy weighs heavy on my mind, I find myself unable to bear the thought of one more moment of my life without you.
Do come and visit me soon, my love.
Love forever and always,
Your Lily
Smirking, I went back to my first letter and added a hasty post-script.
P.S. Make sure Potter finds the second letter I've sent with Zephyr.
I walked over to the window sill, where Zephyr lay sunning himself, his black feathers glistening as the sunlight hit them.
"Zephyr," I cooed, handing him another treat, "Once you rest a bit, take these back to Remus. You needn't stop in Morocco, so this trip should be much, much shorter. And Zephyr—" I said, handing him the two letters, "Make sure he reads this one first." I pointed at the real letter. Zephyr blinked twice at me, took the letters in his beak, and soared off towards the horizon.
I smirked softly to myself. This was going to be good.
