Ice Cream
It was often said of the Evans family that the youngest and, inconsequentially, prettiest daughter must have been destined for another family, but got mislaid on the way there, the reason being that she did not physically resemble her mother, her father, her sister, or any member of her extended family that was still living.
Her mother, Catherine Evans, daughter of the Mr and Mrs Edgar Spencer, was a short, blonde, blue eyed woman who was considerably stouter now than when she had first married her husband. Despite her heft, she still managed to move with a grace and dignity that she had been practising tirelessly since the age of nine. In fact, it caused her considerable discontent to see that her two daughters seemed to have acquired that same graceful manner without having to put much effort into it. Catherine was a social butterfly, always in attendance at the most fashionable parties, balls and banquets, and the events that she hosted were known to be some of the best in the county. She knew everybody, knew of everybody's business, and loved nothing more than to brag about her own family's successes. Lily, in her opinion, was to be her latest and greatest achievement.
Charles Evans, unlike his wife, was very tall; also blue eyed, with grey hair, a stern mouth and an affable disposition. He was an unusually quiet gentleman, although when in the company of those he liked he was sometimes wont to say odd things, as he had a certain fondness for foolishness. He was also completely devoted to the hospital he part-owned in London, as he had once been a doctor, but had given up his practice in favour of business. He didn't care for social events, but attended them good naturedly, as he was sensible enough to know that he could get the peace he wanted by staying present in the every growing Evans social circle. He may have held a different opinion to his wife on Lily's romantic future, but if he did, he kept it quiet. As far as Lily was concerned, he openly worshipped his 'red headed flower', as he liked to call her, and spoiled her quite shamelessly. Lily had never been able to thank him enough for being the one who decided that she should be allowed a wand and textbooks when she was eleven. In her opinion, he had thrown her a lifeline.
The Evans family arrived in Brighton, a quaint, picturesque seaside town in East Sussex, on the 10th of July, which, coincidentally, was three days after the youngest Evans daughter had officially come out in society. Her coming out feast had been hastily arranged by her mother, who was more worried about their trip to the Chamberly home than her daughter's first foray into womanhood. Lily allowed herself to laugh silently at this, as the only reason her mother had accepted this invitation at all was, in fact, because of Lily's coming out.
Most girls near Lily's age looked forward to the day when they could do their hair up and lengthen their skirts, but Lily detested the idea. Unlike most girls, Lily's mother had made her wear her hair up for years before she came out. As her mother had explained, when a young lady does her hair up, it is a sign that she is ready to marry, and subsequently, turn over her virginity. Lily did not feel near ready to do either, especially not with Mr Chamberly, whom she found to be horrendously boring, hopelessly predictable, and far too old at thirty-four. She knew, from accidentally overhearing her mother's rather loud boasting, that Chamberly thought her 'captivating' and 'angelic', and had silently screamed with indignation upon learning as much. She wished that he would hate her, despise the sight of her, and desire a different wife, but it seemed that luck was really not on her side at all.
Her thoughts dissolved into nothingness as she stepped across the threshold of the Chamberly manor, which was overly large and painfully grandiose, just like all of the other houses, and was led into the parlour by a harassed looking maid. The house was, as she expected, uninspired and predictable in décor, moderately comfortable, and smelled mildly of cigar smoke, a smell that Lily detested more than any other. She briefly imagined kissing a man who had just smoked a cigar every day, and she felt like retching all over the plush, ruby red carpet. There was no way that she could see herself as lady of this house. This house, befitted with mounted pheasants and partridges, stuffed trout, and paintings of horses and formidable men, completely devoid of colour, laughter or character, did not welcome her and she had no desire to be welcomed. The house she had dreamed of had been a cottage beside the sea, full of flowers, music and friends, a house where she could do as she pleased, even dance around like an idiot with her hair down, and not a one would chastise her.
That house, she reminded herself, existed only in her dreams, and dreams had no place in life when you were an Evans girl. She might as well try to force herself to like the place. Perhaps Chamberly would like her so much that he would allow her to make some changes in the house, after they were married.
"Charles, my friend!" he was saying, shaking Lily's father's hand with gusto. "It's always a pleasure."
"You seem well, Edward, and you have met my wife and daughter, of course."
"Mrs Evans!" cried Chamberly, bearing down on Catherine in delight. "How lovely it is to see you again! I trust you found your journey comfortable?"
"Yes indeed, quite comfortable. I must say, Brighton is very charming."
"I am compelled to agree, I have always loved it so. One could say that it is almost as charming as this handsome young lady," he continued to gush, bowing deeply and taking Lily's hand again. She dearly wanted to laugh in his face. "Miss Lily, I am delighted to see you."
"Thank you ever so much for inviting me, Mr Chamberly," she said politely. She had her wand stashed away in her silk stockings and she dearly wished that she could whip it out and cover his face in putrid boils, just for her own amusement. "I'm quite excited about the prospect of exploring this beautiful place; I have never been to Brighton before."
"Well, explore away, my dear," he offered kindly. "I must offer my sincerest apologies, however. You see, I received a call today from Mr Shrewsbury, in Hertfordshire. I believe you have made his acquaintance before, Charles?"
Lily's father nodded.
"He is having some problems with the Davenport case, and to my dismay I must travel to Hertfordshire tomorrow to assist him. I must also spend the rest of today going over the particulars of the case with my partner. Therefore, I will not be available until Friday." Here he shot Lily's mother an apologetic glance and hurriedly continued. "I do hope you will forgive my rudeness, and you have my word that from Friday I will be free for the rest of your stay. In the meantime, I do hope you will make yourselves comfortable. My cousin and your daughter and grandson are already here, and my staff will cater to your needs, although I have noticed that you have brought some of your own."
Lily smiled to herself. In a fit of blind panic before they left, her mother had decided to bring two dressers for Lily, lest she try to manage the task herself and somehow make a mess of it. She seemed to be terrified that Lily could make some mistake which would lead to the discontinuing of Edward Chamberly's affection towards her. Therefore, Lily's personal maid and best friend in the world, Siobhan, had been sent to Brighton with them, which was really the only thing that could have possibly made Lily happy about this visit.
"Don't worry about that at all, Mr Chamberly," said Catherine, pretending, Lily could see, that this news didn't irritate her to the core. "When is this ball you are to be holding?"
"On Saturday evening, my lady, although," he swiftly added, as Catherine's eyebrows shot up into her hair and her eyes widened in evident alarm. "There will be a house party in three weeks, during which time I will hold another ball."
Her mother smiled. Obviously there would not have been enough time for Lily to get to know Chamberly and agree to become his wife before Saturday, and the announcement of engagement would have to be made in public, at all costs. "That is perfect. Indeed, we shall make ourselves at home in the meantime, and I am eager to see my grandson."
"Ah, he is indeed a darling," Chamberly gushed smoothly. "And may I say, he looks very much like you."
Lily snorted with laughter, which she hastily turned into a maidenly sneeze. Dudley Dursley indeed resembled her mother, as they were both short, blonde, rotund and more than a little bad tempered. Her little nephew suffered from colic, which resulted in his almost daily wailing fits. It made her feel awfully bad for her sister, but it would be funny to see how Chamberly reacted to his unending crying.
Almost as if on cue, the sound of a baby's high-pitched screams filled the house.
"There's the little rascal now!" Chamberly exclaimed, his eye twitching slightly.
"Oh!" Lily's mother had of course been blessed with the ignorance of all grandparents, who loved their grandchildren so much that they barely noticed their irritating crying. "I must see my darling grandson, where would I be able to locate him?"
"Just follow the sound of his screeching!" her father remarked, to which her mother scowled.
"Pray, Mr Chamberly, where is my grandson?"
"In the East wing," he said genially.
"Well then." Catherine gathered her skirts and nodded at them all in a regal manner. "I shall leave my daughter to the care of you two gentlemen."
After she had left, Mr Evans wandered around the room, examining paintings and ornaments, and Chamberly began to talk to Lily, who answered him admirably, not a hint of her dislike showing in her voice. It was a hard task, to be sure. The cigar smell emanating from him made her want to be sick.
"I do hope that you are not angry with me, Miss Lily," he was saying, having apologized for the fifth time for not being able to stay for the rest of the week. "For I would have loved to stay and get to know you properly, and I would so hate to displease you."
She smiled sweetly, an evil little idea popping into her mind.
"That is quite all right, Mr Chamberly, although I must say," she began wistfully, lowering her head and peeping up at him with a saddened expression. "I was very much hoping that you would accompany me to the seaside. You see, I have never been before, and my girlish heart longs for it."
"I am ever so sorry, Miss Lily, but perhaps, when I return?"
Lily sighed resignedly; she had no intentions of going to the beach with Edward Chamberly.
"Well," she said, smiling again with a look of obvious discontent, fluttering her eyelashes. "If I must wait, I must."
Chamberly went a little bit red, and wrung his hands.
"I see no reason why you should wait for me to begin your explorations," he amended hurriedly. "Surely there is someone who could accompany you to the seaside. Your lady-in-waiting, perhaps?"
Lily beamed. How easy he had been to manipulate. "Why, Mr Chamberly, you are most clever. What a capital idea! May I, father?"
Her father turned from a painting he was currently looking at, and smiled indulgently at his favourite daughter. "When would you like to go?"
"As soon as you will spare me, I hope."
"If Miss Lily would like to go now, it would be most suitable. I was hoping to discuss the hospital matter with you this afternoon, sir. Mr Wallis feels that you could shed some light on the solution, considering the success you have had with your own hospital," said Mr Chamberly to Lily's father, who patted his daughter's head and gave her another smile.
"It is agreed then. Lily, run along. Siobhan will accompany you to the seaside and I shall stay here with Mr Chamberly and discuss many boring things."
"Oh, thank you father," she chirped, hugging her father tightly. "And you, Mr Chamberly, what good, kind men you both are!"
She turned to leave, but her father's voice stopped her.
"Dearest?"
"Yes?" she said, turning around.
"May I remind you not to tell your mother of your doings?" he said, with a wink.
She smiled, gave them both a charming little bow, and rushed from the room. As soon as she was out of earshot, she broke into a run, grinning madly.
"What a charming, beautiful girl," said Chamberly, smiling with evident satisfaction.
Her father merely nodded.
"Today, Siobhan," sang Lily blithely, as she twirled around on the golden sand and tossed her hair this way and that. "I am not Miss Lily Evans, but somebody different entirely."
Maybe, when she lived at Chamberly manor, she could bring Siobhan.
Siobhan Finnegan was an Irish girl of twenty two, Lily's maid and dresser. Although she had been born in Ireland, her accent was of Manchester, as her parents had emigrated there when she was a baby. She had been working for the Evans family from the age of thirteen, when Lily had been nine. Against all propriety, she and Lily had formed a close friendship, which was kept a secret, like so many other things, from her parents and sister. It was Siobhan to whom Lily told her troubles, it was Siobhan who would test Lily on her textbooks, and it was Siobhan who went out in secret once a month and bought Lily's Potions ingredients. It was Lily, and Lily alone, who knew Siobhan's secret. She was a Squib, a non-magical person from a wizarding family. It was because of her that Lily had any knowledge of the wizarding world at all. Siobhan would sit in her tiny bedroom with Lily and tell her everything she knew, which unfortunately was not much, considering the fact that she had severed ties with that world in order to save herself pain and support herself as much as she could. She saw her family as regularly as Lily's mother would allow, though, so she picked up whatever information she could.
"Who are you today?" she replied, settling down on the sand and opening the picnic basket. Siobhan was used to Lily's flights of imagination; they were rare and wonderful, and therefore the sensible girl pandered to them.
"I am merely an everyday person who is on a vacation with her dearest friend, where there are no parents to antagonize her or ugly middle-aged men to court her. I intend to fully enjoy and forget myself today. And let me do that, who do you think you are, my maid?" she added, reaching out for the blanket that Siobhan had just pulled out of the picnic basket, which she spread out onto the sand. She then began to take the many goodies out of the basket and lay them out whilst Siobhan organized the plates and cups.
When Siobhan and Lily were left alone, Lily would berate her if she even suggested doing her job and would insist that they act as equals. It was delightful in Siobhan's opinion, who had been warned to expect snobbery and ill treatment when she started working for the Evans family and instead got put in charge of Lily, who befriended her, treated her nicely, and slipped extra money into her wages whenever she could manage it. Lily herself did not see Siobhan as a servant of any kind; she would tell herself that Siobhan was merely a friend who just happened to live in their house.
"Mr Chamberly is quite the handsome devil, you know," she remarked in a deadpan voice, holding an empty teacup with her little finger in the air, which made Lily laugh.
"Indeed he is, if you find warthogs attractive," she responded, thinking with distaste of Chamberly's stocky frame. She un-wrapped some tasty looking sandwiches that had been placed in the basket by Chamberly's cook and left them out on one of the plates, where they joined two different kinds of cake, boiled eggs, pâté and potted cheese. "The man is positively grotesque."
"He's not that bad looking, kitten," said Siobhan fairly, reaching immediately for some lemon pie.
"No," Lily sighed. "He is not. But hush! Chamberly does not exist today and the man I am going to marry is simply delicious."
"More so than lemon pie?" said Siobhan, pulling a strand of her long, blonde hair out of her mouth. "Incidentally, lemon pie is still delicious even if I do swallow half of my own head in the process of eating it."
"Oh, heaps more," Lily sighed airily. "He's devastatingly handsome."
"I imagine, then, that this delicious man is not a middle-aged solicitor with dirty blonde hair and a potbelly?"
"Certainly not. He's tall and lean and merry and young, with beautiful dark hair."
"And fabulously wealthy, with a house fit to hold the finest of balls?" Siobhan inquired, already knowing the answer.
"Whether or not he is rich is of little importance to me," she replied. "However, he is intelligent and talented and a little bit contrary. He'd have to be, you know; life with a man who just floats on a placid sea and never wants to argue would be utterly boring."
Siobhan laughed at her through her mouthful of lemon pie. "Sounds too good to be true."
"Oh, no, he exists," Lily insisted. She tended to get optimistic like this when she was in a good mood, and away by herself with Siobhan. "He could be on this very beach right now, in fact."
"I shall keep my eyes peeled for him," promised Siobhan, her grey eyes fixed on something behind Lily's head. "Oh Lily, look, there's an ice cream stand over there."
Lily turned around to see that, indeed, there was a little ice cream stall situated some way down the beach. "I can't remember the last time I tasted ice cream; my mother does not like it, and does not like it most decidedly. Shall we get some?"
"We are getting some," said Siobhan firmly. "Stay here, darling, I will go and get it."
With that, Siobhan jumped up and scampered away before Lily could stop her, leaving her mistress to sit on the blanket alone, munching on sandwiches and sighing contentedly to herself.
It was a beautiful, sunny day, with only the smallest hint of light breeze which prevented the holidaymakers from becoming uncomfortably hot. It was the kind of weather Lily preferred, because being as pale and decidedly red-headed as she was, extreme heat made her ill. She glanced around at the other occupants of the beach. There were happy couples holding hands and picnicking, children making sandcastles, elderly people walking along the promenade, and far away from her at the shoreline, a group of boys throwing a large ball to one another.
Lily found herself concentrating on a little girl who was nearest her. The girl had red hair, like Lily's, but unlike Lily's hair, which was currently pinned up most uncomfortably - it was in two long plaits. She was evidently not of the same background as Lily either, judging by her accent, mannerisms and dress, and she was giggling with delight as her father poured a bucket of water over her feet, which were sitting in a freshly dug hole. The little boy beside her shouted for his father to do the same, and frantically began to dig a hole for himself.
The girl caught sight of Lily and waved, and her heart swelled with envy.
"I've got the ice creams," said Siobhan happily, cutting through her thoughts as plopped down beside her again and handed her an ice cream.
"Siobhan, you should have let me pay," she began to protest, but Siobhan ignored her.
"Shut up. Now, try that, and if you tell me you don't like it, I shall know you're lying."
Lily tried it, and indeed, it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted, cold and creamy and gorgeous. She murmured her delight when the first divine trickle slid down her throat.
"It's heavenly," she sighed, gazing at the ice cream as if it contained every secret to eternal happiness.
"Delicious," said Siobhan.
"Mmm," was all that Lily could say, as she attacked her ice cream in a manner that was most unladylike. The little girl with the plaits caught sight of Lily and Siobhan and jumped to her feet, making wet sand fly all over and hit her father in the face.
"Oh look, look!" she screamed, pointing at Lily and her ice cream. "Ice cream, can we have some?"
"Yes, can we have some ice cream?" her brother agreed, jumping up and down feverishly. The man with them mumbled embarrassedly about not having enough money and on a complete impulse, Lily sprang up and held out her hand, not caring whether they would think she was stark raving mad or not.
"If you would let me, sir, I was just going to buy myself another, and I would love to get one for each of your children."
The man looked confusedly at her. "Oh, I couldn't ask that of you."
But his children had already made their way over to Lily, led by the little girl, who grabbed hold of her outstretched hand eagerly.
"You didn't ask, I offered," said Lily as sweetly as she could. "And it wouldn't be any trouble; I was just thinking that your children looked so nice and I'd very much like to get to know them, and I think that a day like this calls for an ice cream, don't you?"
"Oh, please?" the little girl begged her father, making puppy-dog eyes. "Please, please, please, Papa?"
After a bit more pleading on the girl's part, and some silent, but adorable, staring on the little boy's, their father consented, so Lily and the two children set off on the short journey to the ice cream stall, with Lily telling Siobhan most severely to sit still and not try to help her again. Siobhan did not argue, and enjoyed the rest of her own cone in peace.
The girl tugged at Lily's hand as they walked, and her little brother tagged shyly alongside them.
"What's your name?" she asked Lily, beaming up at her from where she danced along beside her on the sand.
"Why, it's Lily," said Lily happily. The little girl made a little sound of awe.
"That's pretty," she said. "We have lilies in our garden."
"Do you?"
"Oh yes, my mother really loves flowers so we have ever so many. We have lilies and roses and apple blossoms and petunias and -"
"My sister is named Petunia," Lily interrupted her, without thinking.
"Is she?" the girl asked; her freckled nose scrunched as she surveyed the ice cream stand greedily. "I don't like petunias as much, they're so dull. Lilies are nice, because there are so many different kinds. I like the white ones best."
"Calla lilies?"
The little girl nodded eagerly.
"I have not asked you what your name is," said Lily, liking this girl more and more with each passing second. "How very rude of me."
"I'm Emma," the little girl replied. "And this is my little brother Paul. He's very shy, though, don't expect him to talk to you."
The little boy walking alongside them waved quickly to acknowledge himself, and then blushed.
"They are very nice names," said Lily. "Do you live here in Brighton?"
"Yes! My father says that we are the luckiest family in the world because we live beside the seaside."
Lily nodded and shot a little smile at Paul, privately agreeing.
"Do you live here?" the inquisitive Emma asked.
"No," said Lily thoughtfully. "But I soon will, I think."
"Oh, you really should. You're so nice, I could talk to you every day, and we could make sandcastles and you could buy me ice cream," Emma replied cheekily. "Can you make sandcastles?"
"Why, no I can't."
"Oh, Paul will teach you to make a sandcastle. He makes the best ones." Beside them, little Paul blushed even redder. "You really should live here. Will you?"
Lily found she couldn't answer. She didn't know how to tell this vibrant child that even if she did live here, she would probably not have the chance to see her again. She somehow couldn't imagine Mr Chamberly permitting her to leave the house in order to build sandcastles with underprivileged little girls. Instead she chose to point out the ice cream stand.
"Shall I get the biggest ice creams possible?"
"Yes, yes!" the two children shouted simultaneously.
Emma let go of her hand and ran to the ice cream stand, so excited that she almost knocked over one of the boys from the shorefront and didn't even notice. Shooting an apologetic smile at the rather handsome boy, Lily, giggling madly, and Paul, who was still blushing, followed her at a run. They found her pointing at the inviting looking picture on the ice cream stand and demanding that the owner make her one bigger.
The owner, a plump, jolly looking old man with a nose so sunburned that all the skin had peeled off, shot Lily a questioning glance as she reached them. She panted, holding on to her side and tried to recover her breath.
"Four of your biggest, oh, pardon me," she finished, as the boy who had almost been knocked over had reached the stand at the same time, and had simultaneously opened his mouth to order.
"We want four really big ice creams!" Emma cried.
The boy raised his eyebrows.
"She's a little bit overexcited," Lily told him by way of an explanation.
He laughed pleasantly, and nodded towards Emma, with a smile. "Not unlike her sister? You seem a tad out of breath."
"Oh, this girl is not my sister."
The boy nodded politely and started rummaging in his pockets for money. They lapsed into silence for a few moments, all watching Emma dance in glee as the ice cream man made her a cone.
Lily suddenly felt rather lonely.
"Are you sad?" Paul asked her abruptly, pulling at her skirt.
Lily looked down at his little sunburned face in surprise. "Pardon?"
"You look... sad," he continued, evidently embarrassed by his boldness, and looked down at his feet.
"Oh," she replied lamely, shocked that this tiny little child had been able to read her so clearly. "Oh, well, no. I am having a lovely time."
"I'm sorry if I made you upset with me, I didn't mean to," he continued, clearly thinking he had harshly offended her. "I won't ask you ever again, are you mad?"
"No, no!" Lily laughed and shook her head. "Of course I'm not mad!"
He still looked apprehensive. "Are you still going to get me a big ice cream?"
"Yes, of course I am!" she assured him with a smile, and noticed that the young man was still watching her out of the corner of his eye. God only knew what he must have been thinking of her.
"Remus, what can I do for you?" the ice cream man asked the boy, once he had handed the children two ice creams each and Lily began to search for money. "The usual I presume?"
"Of course, and I'll pay for her four, too."
"Oh no, you mustn't!" said Lily immediately, but he didn't listen to her. He paid the man for Lily's ice creams and grinned at her, whilst taking four delicious looking cones for himself.
"That is a 'welcome to Brighton' present," said the boy now addressable as Remus, and shook his head as she tried to hand him some money. "Please don't. I don't mind at all."
"Thank you so much," she said, a little bit touched by such an unnecessarily friendly gesture. "What leads you to assume that I'm new, may I ask? I might not need welcoming."
The boy named Remus nodded at her, and smiled rather shrewdly. "I have a way of telling. It was nice meeting you all. Goodbye, Henry," he finished, and, after giving Lily a short bow, he turned away to walk back to the shoreline.
"Oi, Remus!" the ice cream man who was apparently named Henry bellowed after him.
"Yes?" he replied, turning on the spot, two ice cream cones balanced perilously in each hand.
"You tell Potter that he's to get his lazy bottom over here!" Henry continued. "He still owes me for that broken window!"
"I'll tell him, Henry," Remus called over his shoulder, beginning his journey across the sand once more. "Don't worry!"
Henry chuckled, and smiled at Lily.
"He's a good fellow, that one. What'll your name be?"
"Hark who returns!' Sirius shouted at the top of his lungs, and dropped the Quaffle he had been holding. James, who had been about to jump and catch it, turned to greet Remus, who was walking quite carefully across the sand, for fear he would drop the four precariously held ice creams.
"We had almost given you up for lost, you know," he remarked, shielding his eyes from the sun as he regarded his friend.
"Sorry," said Remus, meandering through the sand and around their discarded shoes. "I was attacked by a little girl."
"Peter attacked you?" Sirius questioned, taking his ice cream (James noted that Sirius made sure to grab the biggest one) from Remus's outstretched hand, which was gradually becoming stickier and stickier due to the melting treat.
"Oh, very funny, I must say," remarked Peter grumpily, taking his own ice cream from Remus. "Must I forever be known as a girl just because of one silly incident in third year?"
"Ah, the good old days," said James, with the air of one who had reached their elderly years.
"If you hadn't cried so very loudly, Wormtail -"
"I know, I know," Peter answered hastily. "Can we please change the subject now?"
"Did my eyes deceive me, Remus my friend?" James began chidingly, as they all sat down to form a circle around their shoes and eat their ice creams. "I believe I saw you conversing with a young lady."
"Really?" Sirius gasped, sounding scandalized. He and James had rehearsed this beforehand.
"Yes, really," James whispered loudly. "I saw it with my own two eyes."
"Four eyes, spectacle face," Remus pointed out serenely.
"Who is she?" Peter questioned.
"I don't know," Remus shrugged, not bothered in the least by Sirius and James and their childish behaviour. "Most likely an aristocrat, she was dressed for it, although she was with two rather ragged looking children. She seemed very pleasant."
"Is she pretty?" Sirius carried on. "We couldn't make her out properly from here."
"I suppose she was rather pretty, yes," said Remus, again nonchalantly. "But there are lots of pretty girls here today."
"Pretty, you say?" said James suavely, stroking his chin. "Perhaps I should go over and introduce myself."
"Don't," said Remus. "She seems to be having a lovely day, don't ruin it for her."
Sirius and Peter snorted. James made a face at them.
"You want her for yourself, eh?" he immediately concluded, and checked Remus' face for signs of blushing. There weren't any. "Could it be that our favourite werewolf thinking of satiating his own primal urges now, hmm?"
"Hush!" Remus hissed. This, unlike James' suggestion that he might be interested in the girl from the ice cream stand, did make him turn red. "People might hear you!"
"Sorry mate, I forgot. Remember the rule, Padfoot?" said James, to which Sirius nodded gravely. "When we are in a public area where we could be in the company of non-magical folk, there is no magical activity, or discussion of, permitted."
"Would I do such a thing?"
"Of course not. Would I?"
"Never Prongs, never."
James grinned, then scrambled to his feet and shouted at the top of his lungs. "Has anybody seen a Snitch!"
"James!" Remus cried, all in a panic, and grabbed his shorts in his haste to make James sit down. James merely kicked him away and staggered backwards several feet.
"We were trying to play Quidditch, you see!" he continued, still shouting. People in the immediate vicinity were starting to stare at him as if he were crazy. They probably all thought he was a raging drunkard.
"James, you idiot!" Remus tried again. "Sit down!"
"But it's rather difficult without broomsticks, so we-"
Remus was now hissing for James to be quiet and flapping his hands rather absurdly; he looked like an angry bird.
"Moony, old chum, you really shouldn't draw attention to yourself like that," Sirius remarked offhandedly, while James ceased his racket, and grinned charmingly at everyone he locked eyes with.
"Really Moony, someone might have gotten suspicious," he said, and sat back down next to the boys. "I really did lose my Snitch, though."
"Well you shouldn't have brought it to the beach, fool," said Peter, rolling his eyes. James mimicked his eye-rolling and turned once more to Remus, who was now sitting with his arms folded, scowling at them all.
"So, the girl, how pretty was she?" James persisted.
"James must really be eager to find a Muggle to marry," said Sirius, smirking up a storm. "Is that it, Prongs, hoping for Moony to turn matchmaker?"
"Padfoot." James gave his best friend a look. "We are supposed to be teasing Remus about his love for that mysterious ice cream girl - you can't just switch sides at will."
"I think you'll find that I just did."
That comment earned Sirius a handful of sand that James sent flying into his face.
"You menace, you've befouled my ice cream!" Sirius exclaimed.
"You deserved it."
"I reckon that it's time we were leaving, Lily," said Siobhan, pointing out to the horizon, where the sun was beginning to sink. "The sun's going down, you could catch cold if we stay out much longer.
Lily groaned, torn between getting up and burying herself in the sand and refusing to move. The latter sounded more inviting, but she did not fancy her mother's reaction upon being told by Siobhan that her daughter had decided to spend the night by herself out on the beach. Sighing, she stood up slowly, dusted herself off ,and began packing away the soiled plates.
Her afternoon had passed most enjoyably. She and Siobhan had spent the day building sandcastles with Emma, Paul and their father (his name, it transpired, was Leonard) and they had eventually decided to have a competition. Lily and Paul, who had grown rather attached to her, had soon beat Emma, Siobhan and Leonard by building a magnificent castle, complete with a realistic looking moat, realistic because Paul had insisted upon running back and forward to the shore with two buckets countless times to refill it. Eventually taking pity on the child, Lily had muttered a charm when their backs were turned, ensuring that the moat stayed full. She had gotten a scolding from Siobhan, but didn't care much, because she was having too much fun to feel guilty. Emma and her family, however, had left about an hour ago, as had the ice cream man, the surrounding holidaymakers, and the boys from the shore, although Lily had not seen them leave.
"We have had a nice day, haven't we?" said Siobhan gently.
Lily nodded. "Yes, splendid."
"It's not a long walk back to the manor, and we can pick some flowers on the way back," her friend added, as they packed away the leftovers, in an attempt to cheer her up. Lily did not answer and they cleaned up the rest of the picnic in silence, until all was packed away and they were both standing; Siobhan holding the basket.
"Are you coming, dear?"
Lily shrugged her shoulders and gestured to Siobhan to walk.
"I am. I will just be a moment. I want to enjoy this view alone for a minute," she sighed. "It's really very silly, but I almost feel as if I will never see it again."
Siobhan leaned forwards and pulled Lily into a gentle, one-armed hug.
"I love you, darling."
"Love you too," Lily said, in a small voice. Siobhan kissed her forehead, pulled away and began a slow walk to the steps that would take her back up to the promenade.
Today had been more perfect than Lily could have hoped for. Everything, from the weather to the people, seemed to jump right out of a dream and in front of her rapt eyes. The cheerful informality of Emma and Paul, their father and his funny stories, the very generous Remus, the merry chat she had had with Henry the ice cream man (who had promised her a free ice cream the next time she came just because she was 'pretty as a picture') and even Siobhan's sarcastic comments about some of the people on the beach – it was all so different to what she was used to, but it seemed so natural for her to be part of it. She belonged here, with these people, in a place like this, not in some stiff, upper class hellhole with some old, smarmy, snivelling, pandering-
"OUCH!"
She was jolted back into reality by a sharp pain in her forehead, as something had flown out of nowhere and hit her right between the eyes. She saw a rush of colour, and felt something soft and feathery fluttering in her face, before she instinctively reached up to hold her palm to her forehead, and jumped as her fingers came into contact with something strange and solid. Her immediate and stupid thought was that it was a bump on her head, a theory that was discarded almost as soon as she closed her hand around it.
She brought her hand to eye level, opened her fingers, and let out a silent scream of surprise.
It was a Snitch.
A/N: LE GASP! IT'S A SNITCH! WHO COULD IT POSSIBLY BELONG TO? (Lol it's totally James)