P E T A L I N T H E R A I N
Chapter 14- Rebirth
Lily was spinning out of control, literally.
She felt nauseas, the contents of her stomach jostling about hysterically, and faint. The images—which were more like limitless, cross-hatched colours—that were flashing and twisting around her didn't make sense; then again, spinning in an unearthly chasm of light and colour didn't make sense either. Lily's brain couldn't keep pace with her eyes as they darted around in fearful wonder. As soon as a question formulated, another would take its place...
Am I flying? Is this a dream? What's happening?
It was just as she inclined her head to see another person, dressed in velvety robes, inexplicably whirling beside her, lithe and graceful like a violet butterfly, when the confusion abruptly stopped.
Everything ceased to rush around her. There were no longer tornado-like gusts that ringed in her ears or an alien sense of weightlessness. The atmosphere was quiet and cold, and the air faintly smelled of burning kerosene. Everything that had melted into air had solidified again.
Lily yelped instinctually, losing her balance as her feet suddenly found hard stone ground. Instead of tumbling face-first into the floor, a pair of arms caught her around the waist and held her securely.
"Are you alright?"
Disorienting purple and blue specks were all Lily could see behind her shut eyelids; when she finally opened them, she was met by two sets of curious blue eyes. As Lily turned to look at Lord Dumbledore, she noticed a small, amused smile curving his lips, an expression which starkly contrasted Frank's apprehensive gaze.
"F-F-Frank...I...we...wow." Lily sputtered awkwardly, so shocked by what she had just endured that she couldn't bring herself to move out of Frank's stalwart arms.
"Do you feel well?" Frank probed again, searching Lily's dazed face for any signs of trauma; he felt a pang in his gut when she helplessly looked up at him, raw vulnerability shining behind her eyes.
"I don't know...I think so." Lily replied shakily, letting Frank help her to her feet, but keeping a firm hold of his arm in order to regain her center of balance. He awkwardly stiffened, though she was too bewildered to notice, "I don't like that...whatever we did."
"For a first-time portkey traveller, you did very well, my dear." Dumbledore smiled assuredly; he pocketed the spy-glass and offered his arm to Lily, which she nervously accepted: "Now, I beg you to pardon my hastiness, but I should like to escort you to my private quarters where we can dine. Lord Longbottom, I appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule to assist me in transporting my niece. I should very much like you to come back and breakfast with us tomorrow."
Niece?
"I would be delighted, Lord Dumbledore." Frank replied cordially, bowing toward them both—his eyes lingering a little longer on a spot above Lily's shoulder—before swiftly turning away from them and heading out a large set of wooden doors encrusted with a golden emblem.
As Frank hurried off, Lily's eyes became unfocused; she thought it strange how formal Dumbledore and Frank suddenly were with each other...it was as if they had made a personality switch...and she faintly wondered why Dumbledore referred to her as his niece. It seemed she was no less confused than she was a minute ago; the plot continued to thicken.
Just as she was about to voice her latest question, cool night air drifted in from the outside grounds and prickled Lily's warm skin; the chill woke Lily up from her stupor and made her abruptly aware of her surroundings.
She was standing in the middle of an enormous castle entrance. The ceiling was nearly 100 metres high, perhaps higher, and long woollen banners, coloured blue, yellow, green and red, hung from it regally. The walls were hewn from grey, ancient stone and were papered with tapestries and oil portraits, while torches casted dancing shadows on them, making the castle appear animate. Flanking the entrance hall was a matching set of staircases which curled upward like giant snakes; the prospect of climbing them and further exploring was an exciting one.
Lily swallowed every detail in child-like wonderment. Everything from the rusty suits of armour to the shadowed alcoves enamoured her.
"This is a school?" Lily rasped unbelievingly, her eyes wide as she turned to Dumbledore.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was built nearly a thousand years ago. You'll find it's filled with many old secrets." Dumbledore recited mysteriously, a twinkle in his eye as he registered Lily's enthusiasm; she was like a student on her first day of school, "We will make sure you get a full tour very soon."
"I would love that." Lily smiled undauntedly, her troubles momentarily forgotten.
"Now," Dumbledore said, much softer and stricter than before, "until we get into my dining chambers, you must do something for me."
"What?" Lily whispered back, alarmed that Dumbledore's character had reverted again.
"You will go along with everything I say without question. I will do all the talking, and you will agree." Dumbledore requested seriously, though he followed with a paternal smile and said more loudly: "Let's be off, my dear."
Lily was slightly alarmed by what Dumbledore insisted of her, but decided it was probably best to obey him, as she had trusted him up until that point and he hadn't yet failed her. Taking his offered arm, Dumbledore led Lily forward.
The doors Frank had just exited from were fashioned of fat planks of wood and were parallel to matching door on the opposite side of the entrance hall. Dumbledore led Lily through the creaky doors, which Lily noticed were etched with an emblem depicting four mismatched animals, and opened up a whole new scene.
"This is the Great Hall, where students take their meals."
Lily barely registered Dumbledore's words. The Great Hall was massive in size, like the entrance hall, but much grander and warmer. Four lengthy tables stretched across the stone room, and one table stretched horizontally before it, raised on a platform. The same banners that hung in the entrance hall were strung there, each above a specific table, and fireplaces danced with flames along the walls. There were many windows, which made Lily imagine it being very bright and airy during the day. The hall's most magnificent feature, however, was the crystalline ceiling which was charmed to look like the night sky; it was a clear night, so the stars flickered prominently against their dark canvass. It was unlike anything Lily could have ever dreamed...
She was so preoccupied with the enchanted ceiling she jumped when an unfamiliar, sallow voice sounded after Lord Dumbledore's.
"Severus! I see you too are dining at this late hour."
"Headmaster Dumbledore..." the man responded in a tentative, dark voice, rising from his seat at one of the tables, where he was eating while awkwardly bent over a thick book, "Yes...I lost account of the time."
Lily's gaze regretfully shifted from the ceiling to man before her; however, she found him just as intriguing. Dressed from head to foot in a black robe, the young man had straight black hair which fell beyond his ears, a long, slightly crooked nose, ashen lips and dark, analytical eyes. He had a tall and thin frame, which was disguised by his billowy robes, and remarkably statuesque posture. He looked to be in his early twenties, perhaps a few years older than herself.
"Ah yes, time can run amuck when we least desire it to, and become stationary when we wish it away." Dumbledore eloquently asserted, congenially smiling at the emotionless figure.
Lily noticed the man seemed visibly uncomfortable with the exchange; she gathered he wasn't the social type, initiating a conversation only out of necessity rather than out of enjoyment for the English language.
"Did you have a... pleasant trip to Canada?" the man inquired politely, his voice monotonous; for the first time, Lily caught his gaze momentarily fixing on herself. When he quickly averted his eyes, she began to wonder if his discomfort was not common, but a product of her presence...
"Very pleasant. Ottawa is lovely in the summer months, but I much prefer winter in Quebec. I find Canadian winters have a more beatific quality about them." Dumbledore lied convincingly; Lily tried to keep the confusion from showing on her porcelain face as he continued, "But here I am rambling when I should be providing introductions! Severus, this is my niece, Aurora...Aurora, this is one of the young teachers here at Hogwarts, Professor Severus Snape."
WHAT?
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Aurora." Severus greeted squarely, his investigative eyes matching Lily's conflicting ones; she gulped, suddenly becoming panicked that she wasn't following Dumbledore's instructions and convincingly going along with his inexplicable lies.
"Thank you. It's nice to meet... you." Lily attempted to deliver evenly, her hands becoming sweaty as she had already stupidly forgotten his name.
As he raised an eyebrow in what Lily perceived to be scepticism, she thought she glimpsed passing doubt in the dark stranger's eyes; he quickly turned his attention back to Dumbledore, giving no hint of sentiment, "Have you brought your niece here for a brief visit?"
"I do wish the terms of Aurora's stay were more light-hearted. Unfortunately, my sister Arianna has fallen quite ill and can no longer provide for Aurora while in hospital. As her father has passed, Aurora will be staying with me until her mother recovers." Dumbledore explained solemnly, patting Lily on the shoulder sympathetically; she wondered if she should try and look more upset than baffled, "Actually, I had been meaning to ask you for a favour, Severus."
"Yes?" Snape replied stiffly, his staunchly polite act beginning to crumble.
"You see, Aurora has spent most of her life nursing her mother and therefore has missed out on quite a bit of magical schooling. As you are spending the summer living at Hogwarts, I was hoping you might tutor her in your spare time. I regret that I will be unable to due to my involvement with the Ministry as of late. You would be doing a great service to me."
Severus remained silent for a moment—Lily guessed he was inwardly shouting profanity—than bowed his head in dutiful submission, "Of course. I shall aid Aurora in anything you ask of me, Headmaster."
Lily frowned. His dry obedience communicated his dissatisfaction with being settled with such a burden. I wonder if I'm going to hate this as much as he is.
"Excellent. I think it should only take a day to get Aurora settled, so you can start in two days time. That should give you enough time to prepare lesson plans." Dumbledore spoke authoritatively, but gently, "We are off to have a late dinner now. I apologize for the interruption, Severus; I do hope your meal hasn't become cold."
"Enjoy your evening, Headmaster. Aurora." Snape nodded cordially towards Lily, but before she could catch his eye again, he had turned his dark stare toward the ground. He did not seem the least bit interested in her—rather, she was a nuisance he was now forced to tutor.
Lily could tell there was something ominous and deeply secretive about him, though rather than repelling her, his demeanour fascinated her.
Without another word, Dumbledore escorted Lily away from Severus Snape, who sat alone in the Great Hall, towards a door which led to a small dining area.
The quaint room had a round table and six chairs, a little window that looked out onto the shadowed grounds, and an unlit fireplace. Dumbledore motioned for Lily to take a seat, and as she timidly did, he extracted his wand and sent a robust ball of fire barrelling into the fireplace. The dried kindling immediately caught and sent a wave of heat into the room.
"Will I learn how to do things like that from Professor Snape?" Lily inquired, her eyes glazing over at the prospect of learning magic; her thoughts continued to drift as she regarded the flickering fire.
Dumbledore pocketed his wand and gracefully took a seat across from Lily. Once comfortably arranged, the wizard clasped his sinewy hands on the table and donned his characteristic smile: "You will be tutored in a number of subjects, including Transfiguration, Charms, Defence against the Dark Arts, Potions and Magical History. Should those subjects go well, I might add Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. I would prefer you to be well versed in all magical areas to convincingly integrate you into the magical community, but we shall take it slow in the beginning."
Lily gulped, overwhelmed; she knew her previous scholarship wasn't going to help her now. She felt compelled to continue to question her lessons, but knew there were much more important things to be discussed. Lily paused, ready to begin questioning the old wizard, but found she didn't know where to begin.
"Before we delve into explanations, I should like to eat. Are you hungry?" Dumbledore asked lightly, his eyes unblinking as he regarded Lily; she couldn't help but fidget nervously under his gaze.
"I'm starving." Lily replied bluntly, having ignored her growling stomach all day; there hadn't really been an opportunity to eat, what with her almost abduction and subsequent relocations.
"Excellent." Dumbledore beamed at the young girl, then inclined his head ever so slightly to the side, "Rhett, I should require your assistance, please."
Lily cocked an eyebrow, wondering who Dumbledore was talking to; however, a moment later she had to stifle a scream when an odd little creature suddenly popped into existence right in the middle of the table. The old wizard smiled.
The creature—which had long, bat-like ears and eyes the size of crystal balls—was barely two feet tall and dressed in what appeared to be a clean, floral-patterned tea cosy. Its bony, straggly frame was slightly hunched in submission as it regarded Lord Dumbledore; all Lily could do was gape at the grotesque little thing. It did, however, look oddly familiar...
"Ah, there you are. I do hope I haven't interrupted any of your work, Rhett." Dumbledore spoke politely and pleasantly.
"Master Dumbledore never interrupts Rhett. Rhett lives to serve his master!" the elf squeaked automatically, affection glassing over his bulbous eyes, "What can Rhett do for master Dumbledore this evening?"
"I've just arrived from a long trip with my niece, Lady Aurora Rockford. We should like some dinner, if you please. What was on the menu this evening?" Dumbledore ordered congenially.
"Of course, master Dumbledore. I-It's a pleasure meeting the Lady Rockford!" the elf hurriedly turned to Lily, who looked utterly dumbstruck, and bowed deeply; "Lemon-peppered halibut on a bed of garlic mashed potatoes and greens was the entree this evening, followed by a fruit and custard dessert. Would you like me to have two plates made up for master and his niece?"
Lily was surprised that such fancy food would be served at a school; then again, Dumbledore was a lord and the school was, in fact, a castle. She hadn't had such an elaborate meal since...
"A bottle of your finest Bordeaux, if you please…"
Lily cringed, a sinking feeling in her stomach suddenly making her lose her appetite.
"I'm not one for expensive wine. I'll have a beer, whatever is on tap…"
"Are you partial to fish, my dear?" Dumbledore inquired, his blue eyes probing Lily's distant face; she looked up and tried to wipe the forlorn expression from her porcelain features, "It looks like the very idea has turned you green!"
"I love fish." Lily weakly smiled, suppressing the nostalgic images that were flooding her mind; she would face that truth later.
Dumbledore turned and smiled at the elf, seemingly disregarding Lily's sudden wave of sadness; "Two orders, if you please, with a bottle of pino grigio."
"Yes, master Dumbledore!" the elf obediently answered. Less than a minute later, the elf had reappeared with two heaping plates of food and a bottle of white wine. With precision, the elf poured the sweet liquid into two gold-plated goblets and laid the bottle to rest in an ice bucket. Lily half smiled at the gremlin as he bowed again and popped out of existence with a resounding crack.
"What was that creature?" Lily whispered across the table to Dumbledore, wondering if she should keep her voice down in case the little thing reappeared.
"No need to whisper, my dear; Rhett won't reappear unless I beckon for him." Dumbledore replied warmly, putting his glass of white wine to his withered lips before continuing, "Rhett is a house elf; there are many in service at Hogwarts. They work in the kitchens, tidy up common rooms, do laundry...domestic duties which are necessary to perpetuate the workings of this school. As you can see, they can appear and reappear at will, and they possess unprecedented magical ability—magic which wizards access with the aid of a wand. But, as you have experienced, wizards can perform magic without on occasion."
Lily bit the bottom of her lip; she wasn't even aware of the numerous times she had performed wandless magic over the years—magic which had wreaked a modest amount of havoc in St. Madeline's…
"Speaking of wands, I have arranged Olivander, the best wand-maker in Britain, to bring some of his fares down to the castle tomorrow morning so we can purchase you one of your own." Dumbledore informed Lily, who suddenly sunk lower in her chair, if possible, "I will also arrange one of the house elves to take you into Hogsmeade village to purchase a new wardrobe…I do apologize that we weren't able to appropriate any of your belongings from St. Madeline's. I'm sure you understand it is far too risky to return for them."
Lily gulped; she idly pushed the vegetables around on her plate, not having heard the last bit of Dumbledore's speech. She suddenly felt inexplicably terrified that Lord Dumbledore had made a grave mistake and would instantly ship her back to London once he knew the truth: "That all sounds wonderful, Lord Dumbledore, but…I haven't any money to pay for all this. I barely have a penny to my name. I-I'm sorry, I thought that with everything going on you knew, I-I—"
Lily couldn't bear to look the older man in the face, embarrassment and shame burning behind her eyes. All her life she'd been in the company of the wealthy, except when she'd lived in an orphanage, and her lack of parentage and fortune had always made her the object of ridicule. She wasn't a materialistic person, but the facts still bothered her; she was the girl with a crown of flowers, unable to escape the surrounding crowns of gold.
Dumbledore reached across the small table and put a comforting hand atop Lily's; it was warm and withered, and when she looked up, his smile was genuinely sympathetic. For barely knowing the man—or wizard, was there a difference?—Lily took great comfort in his presence, making her fleetingly wonder if he had cast a spell to make her trust him.
What she didn't notice was that when she touched Dumbledore's hand, nothing happened…
"My dear, there is so much I must explain to you…so much that you are unaware of. You have no knowledge of your family, or the past which has shaped your present."
A pronounced pause followed. The fork in Lily's hand dropped to the hard wood floor with a clang, her eyes ablaze as she met Dumbledore's significant stare. She was too stunned to formulate a response.
"Just recently, I discovered it…and I can assure you, everything you believe about your family is wrong, including your belief that they have left you penniless." Dumbledore said softly, courteously breaking to allow Lily to absorb his meaning; he seemed calm about her physical reaction.
Lily hands had balled into fists, the skin around her knuckles turning an angry red with the pressure, and her sharp eyes narrowed sceptically and harshly. It appeared her breathing had picked up, her rigid shoulders pitching up and down more frequently, and her jaw was clenched tightly. For a petite red head, she looked quite intimidating…practically lethal.
The fear in Lily's stomach was forgotten, replaced with the familiar, tormenting misery that had coursed through her bloodstream and burned like acid ever since she was born. In a few simple sentences, Dumbledore had reopened her old wounds, and Lily was furious about it…furious that he was making her suffer it again.
How the hell could he possibly know about her family? She didn't even know anything, except what her mother and father had looked like from the little pictures in her locket. Which you smashed, might I remind you.
Angry tears began to puddle in the corners of Lily's eyes; the hot blood that was rushing to her head threatened unconsciousness, while phlegm building in her throat threatened to choke her.
The candles in the room sputtered suddenly, casting dancing lights on the paneled walls.
"To HELL with civility! If there is one thing I've learned in that rotten school, it's that it gets you nowhere fast. I want to know what you know about me and why I'm here this second, Dumbledore!" Lily mustered with as much fury as she could possibly muster; she felt slightly deflated when the old man did not so much as flinch.
Dumbledore calmly watched Lily rise to her feet from across the table, looking vulnerable and childlike, salty tears sliding down her flushed cheeks and uncertainty flickering in her eyes.
"My dear, I shall tell you everything I know about you and your family, as well as the role you will be playing here at Hogwarts. I do apologize for pressing upon your patience and trust as I have." Dumbledore spoke sensitively, his eyes softening from beneath his half-moon spectacles.
The energy that had surged through Lily and triggered her anguished outburst had vanished, leaving her abruptly fatigued. Lily sighed; she was silently frustrated that she couldn't stay mad at Dumbledore when he had such a wilted expression on his face. Remaining incensed was an exhausting prospect, and it had been a long day.
"O.K." Lily responded simply, too tired to argue or feel ashamed.
A long day? Bit of an understatement.
With droopy eyes, Lily watched Dumbledore cross the room and tug on a fringed piece of rope, which was draped beside a finely-sewn tapestry of what appeared to be a flying horse. With this motion, the tapestry rolled upwards, revealing a blank stone wall.
"Devil's Snare." Dumbledore whispered secretively, running a sinewy hand across the wall methodically.
Loudly, pieces of the stone wall slide backwards from the ground up—scraping against each other like nails on a chalkboard—to reveal a shadowed staircase that ascended upwards into a hidden passage. Lily gulped, still mildly rapt in the presence of magic.
Once the dust from the newly hewn passage settled, Dumbledore turned and held out his hand for Lily, "Shall we? This conversation should take place in a more private setting."
The cool, stagnant air that drifted into the dining room from the passage sent chills up Lily's arm. She took Dumbledore's grizzled hand and let him swiftly lead her up the spooky staircase, wondering what answers would await her above.
The Headmaster's office was as captivating as the Great Hall, but it housed even more wonderful, wraithlike things.
The oval-shaped room was filled with spinning trinkets, books and golden instruments housed in ochre shelves that reached up to the tall ceiling. In the middle of the room was a grand desk with a throne-like chair nestled behind it, and nearby was a generous stone basin which resembled an oversized bird-bath. Most curious of all was an intricate perch near the desk that appeared to have been designed from melted bullion; it was empty.
It was like living in the faded pages of an old photo album, for a dozen or more portraits were fixed on the stone walls like pieces of a puzzle. The framed oil paintings depicted an assortment of oddly dressed men and women, most of who appeared to be sleeping. Some, such as former headmaster Newton Scamander, watched the secret passage on the western wall abrasively slide open with a peaked sense of interest.
Dumbledore regally emerged, old dust swirling at his feet, a frazzled Lily not far behind him. Her eyes darted about the magnificent office in subdued amazement before Dumbledore ushered her into another comfortable chair and delicately touched her hand from across his desk to gain her attention. Lily blinked back her hollow trance as she turned to him, a sense of foreboding settling in her throat.
"Quite something, isn't it?" Lord Dumbledore remarked calmly, gesturing his gnarled hands towards the portraits, "You will certainly become accustomed to moving portraits, now that you will be dwelling in this castle."
Like some sort of fugitive princess…
"Who are the people in the pictures?" Lily quietly inquired, fidgeting in her chair as she suddenly felt nervous, many of the portrait occupants looking down at her quizzically. She attempted a smile when Dilys Derwent gave her a little wave, but it instead resembled a painful twitch.
"These are former headmasters and mistresses of Hogwarts. They are meant to advise those who currently hold the position. Portraits act as mere imprints of a person after they have died." Dumbledore smiled at Lily's intrigue; he could tell she was bursting with questions, but battling to remain composed, "You will begin to understand more as you continue to be exposed to the magical world. Let us first discuss matters closer to your heart."
Lily's throat constricted, her stomach lurching anxiously; she gripped the arms of her chair and bore into Lord Dumbledore's sapphire eyes. The magic which had besieged her life suddenly seemed darker: "My parents."
The patrician wizard nodded, nostalgia reflecting behind his spectacles.
"Your parents…their names were Marquis and Esmeralda Everard." Dumbledore began carefully; he paused for a moment, watching the young girl's eyes fill with a mixture of confusion and melancholy.
Everard…the name Frank called me before…"Your father, Marquis, was a pureblood wizard from an old, infamous bloodline of magical aristocrats. The Everard family was composed of many famous individuals, including your grandfather who was once a headmaster here, at Hogwarts. Your father attended this school, in fact." Dumbledore offered Lily an encouraging, sympathetic smile; she could not bring herself to mirror it, "You inherited your formidable magical ability from him and his prestigious bloodline."
Lily had been struck speechless, enamored by Dumbledore's words; her mouth hung open in utter wonder and disbelief. Never in her wildest dreams could she have fantasized such a heritage for herself. My dad was a wizard…
"What…what about my mother?" Lily inquired hoarsely, overwhelmed and surprised; she had barely scratched the surface of the story and already felt dazed.
"Your mother, Esmeralda, was a muggle—a non-magical human. Unfortunately, I know less of her than of your father, as she did not enter the magical world until her marriage. Due to her heritage and upbringing, your father was nearly disinherited for taking Esmeralda as his bride; I imagine Lord and Lady Everard hoped for a noble union for their son—something to bring prestige to the family and ensure the continuance of a magical, pure bloodline." Dumbledore laughed without humor, "Marquis was a stubborn man, and it was apparent he deeply loved your mother. He lived a quiet life away from court and the magical aristocracy once he married, inhabiting one of the family estates in Ireland."
Lily felt a sudden swelling of pride: "Was he disinherited?"
"No, your grandfather eventually accepted the marriage. Marquis was a beloved son, and the only heir to the bloodline. Despite your mother being a muggle, there was great hope that a magical son would be born." Dumbledore's lips curled upwards, a twinkle in his mischievous eyes, "It wasn't long before Esmeralda was with child. It wasn't the baby boy that was hoped for by your grandparents, but the baby girl was cherished all the same."
"…Me?" Lily questioned quietly, suddenly feeling numb to the thought of being loved by her parents and family; it was an idea she had never allowed herself. Wasn't she abandoned by choice, as she had always thought?
"Lily Everard." Dumbledore affirmed, benevolently reaching out to pat the top of Lily's hand, "Your mother and father were captivated by you; your grandfather, a good friend of mine, spoke of you lovingly. You were to live a charmed life, eventually attending school here and being presented in court…but, a plan that was brewed before your birth altered the lives of you, your parents, and the Everard bloodline considerably."
"A plan? Who was behind it? Is it the reason I've been in the dark about my family, my very identity, until recently?" Lily brusquely demanded, images of what could have been—a happy family, a charmed life, the magical world—suddenly flashing before her, "Does it have to do with those wizards trying to capture me back at St. Madeline's?"
Dumbledore rose from his chair, suddenly looking especially tired and old. He lithely walked toward a bookcase, his crushed velvet robes trailing behind him, and idly ran one of his spindly fingers along the jacket of one of the aged books; his voice took on a darker tone.
"As you have witnessed, not all wizards are of noble spirit. Around the time of your parent's marriage, there was a sinister uprising being perpetuated by a very dark wizard…Tom Riddle." Dumbledore explained despondently, slowly turning to face Lily again; her brow was scrunched in ignorant confusion, "He later took on the title Lord Voldemort, the name to which everyone refers to him now. Voldemort is an exceptionally powerful wizard who wishes to attain power and oppressively rule the magical community as supreme dictator; the magic he exercises is both dark and unlawful, and he has committed heinous acts of evil against both wizards and muggles. His very name strikes fear in the hearts of the magical community and, though we have strived to apprehend him, he still runs rampant."
Lily crinkled her nose in skepticism, not fully understanding the frightening nature of the dark wizard. Suddenly, an image of a dark-haired man with a silly moustache and Nazi pin on his lapel popped into her head.
This Voldemort must be quite similar to Hitler...minus the magic thing.
"But…you have magic; can't you and the rest of the government, or the magical police, or…someone stop him? He is only one wizard…"
Dumbledore paused and closed his eyes, heaving a soft sigh, "Powerful wizards, including myself, have tried, but you must understand he also possesses magic and a loyal following who share in his disturbing ideology. Lord Voldemort and his deatheaters keep themselves well hidden; the identities of his followers are largely unknown, as they operate secretly. Many move among us in society, court, and even this school, completely incognito."
Lily bit the bottom of her lip, her eyes moistening with the alarming knowledge; she bravely rose from her chair and approached Dumbledore, who was lifelessly stirring his knotted wand in a basin filled with silvery liquid, seemingly distracted.
"Those men at the school… they were deatheaters. What could this... Voldemort and his followers possibly want with me?" Lily whispered urgently, the eerie white glow that emitted from the strange substance making her skin appear unnaturally porcelain. She could not fathom why such an infamous wizard would be interested in her, an unlearned witch of no consequence.
Dumbledore did not reply straight away, rather continuing to methodically stir his wand in a counter-clockwise motion. Lily searched his face for any hint of emotion, trying to judge whether she had legitimate reason to worry, but he remained even and composed.
Then again, if this evil warlock has sent his henchmen after me, I suppose I do have reason to worry...
Dumbledore opened his eyes and took in the lovely image of the vulnerable-looking girl, a feeling of intense pity stabbing his gut. He felt guilty knowing the naive girl's world was about to change and that everything she knew was a lie, a planned facade meant to protect her. Lily had been a target ever since her birth, and until Voldemort was dead, she would not be safe...
"I'm sorry your introduction to the magical world was not as joyful and electrifying as it is for many eleven-year-olds." Dumbledore apologized solemnly, the usual twinkle in his blue eyes replaced with remorse.
Lily was struck by his genuineness, the emotion behind his low voice fraught with paternal care. It was obvious that Dumbledore was burdened by what he was about to tell her; Lily's blood suddenly ran cold with fear.
What makes me important to Voldemort...? It clicked.
"He...he did something to my parents, didn't he?" Lily murmured faintly, her eyes becoming clouded as she serenely looked into the intricate stone basin before her; for a moment, she thought she saw ghostly faces appear in the hoary liquid...
She felt detached from her surroundings.
One minute she'd been in a trance, the images of her mother and father from her locket swirling before her, smiling. She envisioned the family manor in the country, what it would have been to live there with them...a charmed life...a life of happiness and love. The next minute, she was slumped in a chair, Dumbledore offering a filled goblet to her lips. Without even thinking, Lily drank the contents, the numbness she felt mingling with a sense of warmth; she did not even think to ask what it was she was drinking. It didn't matter; not in that moment.
Dumbledore crouched before the girl, taking her hands and looking into her limp face with a brave sense of resolve, "Lily...Voldemort wanted you and your parents dead, believing your family to have the power to destroy him and his malicious plot. Your parents went into hiding with you when you were born, but it was not long until he found your parents. When they realized they were close to being captured, they hid you in a muggle orphanage in London and provided you with a fake name."
They...they didn't abandon me?
"Lily...the deatheaters caught up with your parents. They tried to get them to reveal your whereabouts, but they did not." Dumbledore tried to disclose the tale as gently as possible, but there was no articulate or easy way to tell Lily of her parent's death, "Voldemort was not aware of your whereabouts until a day ago..."
Lily closed her eyes, waiting for the anguish to wash over her, to paralyze her thoughts and overwhelm her conscious, but it did not throb the way she expected.
She'd always imagined her parents to be dead… but so cruelly taken from her? Murdered by a villainous dark wizard? Never in her wildest nightmares could she have conceived such a thing. This Voldemort had robbed Lily of her life, and he was still haunting her like an unseen shadow, apparently wanting her dead because of some breathtaking ability she was purported to possess.
Lily's sadness suddenly shifted to fear.
He wants me dead...he's already killed my parents..."How has he become aware of me?" Lily whispered quietly, the blood draining from her face and leaving her lips ashen, "Why...now?"
Dumbledore looked benevolent, worry filling his eyes as the life seemed to be suddenly sucked out of the young girl before him. Lily looked practically comatose, her unfocused eyes fixed on her lap, "Your parents left you a powerfully charmed item that, when near you, concealed any haphazard magic you might have accidentally displayed. I believe it was a locket."
Lily gasped, her surprised eyes meeting with Dumbledore's worried ones; she felt a pang of guilt in her gut due to the fresh memory, "The night the deatheaters came I...well, it doesn't matter why, but I smashed my locket."
"Ahh...and your emotion that night translated into potent magic that made you noticeable to the deatheaters tracking occurrences of unregistered magic. Remember, they were looking for a powerful witch. There were likely times you demonstrated small bouts of magic when you weren't wearing your necklace, but it likely wasn't enough to warrant suspicion." Dumbledore surmised intelligibly, "It is sheer coincidence that both Voldemort and I located you at the same time."
"But...how did you find me? Have you been looking for me all these years, too?" Lily asked briskly, visibly confused as to how Dumbledore knew what he did about her, "And if you have been looking for me, then why? Why has it become your responsibility to protect me? If you think I have some power that can defeat this Voldemort, you are very wrong!"
"You underestimate yourself, my dear." Dumbledore enunciated kindly, breathing a sigh of relief as Lily regained her spirit, "I have known of your existence for many years, but not of your whereabouts. It wasn't until the night you broke your locket that I became aware. I spent the night putting in place precautionary measures for your arrival here today, rather than finding you the moment I knew."
The elderly man's sun-kissed face contorted in sudden remorse; there was a battle taking place behind his blue orbs, "I see now that was a grave mistake on my part. I beg you to forgive me for putting your life in such danger; I thought I'd have enough time to exact my plan for your safe arrival here."
"Please don't apologize to me." Lily returned immediately, her face softening as she regarded Dumbledore, "From the sounds of it, you saved my life. You have been nothing but kind to me..." Her voice cracked, "I...I don't know how I can ever thank you...but I still don't understand why. Why have you...and the others...made it your responsibility to protect me?"
Dumbledore's answer was simple and sincere; he offered her a meaningful smile "Because, my dear, you are worth protecting."
Lily was dumbfounded; silent tears bristled in the corners of her eyes. For most of her life she had never believed she was worth her parents love, or that she was worth anyone's love. It was amazing how a few months—nay, a few hours—could shatter years worth of self-loathing.
"Frank, Kingsley, Moody and I...we are the only ones who know of your true identity now. We are part of a secret order...The Order of the Phoenix...a group of witches and wizards who have come together to fight and defeat Lord Voldemort. Protecting those he targets is integral to that mission. There are many of us, but I have only trusted three to help me protect you...you, who Voldemort sees as a threat to his power. Do you understand?"
"Yes...I think so." Lily replied quietly, feeling a bit more at ease knowing she had some wizards on her side; however, she wondered what sort of life she could possibly have now that Voldemort knew she was alive, "What am I going to do, Lord Dumbledore?"
Will I remain in hiding forever?
Dumbledore paused to read the young girl's face; she looked scared, tired, and lost...even with all the magic and new possibilities facing her, a cloud had cast its shadow over her. She had been plucked out of her world, found out her parents had been brutally killed, and now, that she was being hunted for reasons she couldn't, and wouldn't, understand. He wouldn't further burden her with the knowledge of the prophecy—that she was to marry a royal and bear a child that would defeat the Dark Lord—nor would he tell her the Order depended on her to bring about their salvation. It would be too much for her to handle. No, Dumbledore would try to provide her with as normal a magical life as possible, steering her in the right direction when need be. She would live and mingle among the magical aristocracy—though never would she be known by her true name—so that she would meet and marry the prophesized royal. He would ensure Lily's guise was flawless; she'd be schooled in manners and every subject of magic, run in the proper social groups, and have an elaborate back story.
Dumbledore knew the best hiding places were those in plain sight.
"You will hereon be known as Lady Aurora Rockford, daughter of Lord Aquarius and Lady Arianna Rockford. My real sister is Arianna, and she is quite ill as of late. She has never been mentioned in the courts here...most don't even know I have a sister. We shall say Lord Aquarius, a fictious wizard, has died, but was once a wealthy, prominent Lord in the Dominion of Canada. As Arianna has taken ill and now resides in a medical ward in a magical hospital, you have come to live with me, your uncle. Having nursed your mother all your life, and due to her request that you never attend schooling, you have little to no magical training. You now live here, at Hogwarts with me, and at my request, are being newly tutored in magic by one of the teachers here. You must stick to this story at all times, unless you are in this office with me, Frank, Moody or Kingsley." Dumbledore spoke fluently and seriously, unperturbed by Lily's shocked appearance.
"Why is such a back story necessary if I am to be in hiding?" Lily inquired, visibly confused, "Is it just to appease that teacher I met downstairs? Can't we trust him?"
"We can trust no one." Dumbledore stressed gravely, his gaze hardening to communicate his point; the expression did not become his gentle, withered face or mellow disposition.
"But how will this Dark Lord know I'm at Hogwarts with you?" Lily questioned sceptically, feeling awkward as she referred to the odd title of the wizard who was pursuing her, "None of his followers are in this school, so they will never see or speak with me?"
"Ah, if that were only true. Voldemort's followers are everywhere; they operate in secret and are often hard to detect." Dumbledore explained despairingly, unhappy about the inconvenient truth, "Did you really think I was going to keep you locked in a tower, never to be seen or heard from again? With this disguise, as well as some physical modifications, you will be free to move about the castle, the nearby village, and court—might I add, court only with my supervision—all you like. My goal is to provide you with protection without completely depriving you of a life."
Lily thought the idea quite ingenious—and to her benefit—but she had never been a good actress, "What sort of physical changes?"
Dumbledore chuckled, some of the light returning to his eyes, "Well, I have already made some. I do hope you approve, though we haven't much room to change you now that Severus has gotten a look at you. Gaze into the mirror over there."
Lily balked, being unaware of any physical change that might have taken place. I don't remember Dumbledore performed any spells on me? Was her nose bigger? Her lips thinner? Her eyes bulging? Only imagining negative alterations, Lily jumped up from her chair and crossed the room to where a large carved mirror hung. Leaning inwards, the image that met Lily made her girlishly yelp.
Her hair was longer and a deep chocolate colour—rather than red—while her eyes were not the piercing emerald they usually were; instead, they were a light blue like Dumbledore's. The soft freckling around her nose was also gone. Other than a re-colouring, Lily was the same. It was her...but not.
"Oh my..." Lily murmured in subdued astonishment, fingering her new brown tresses with wide, foreign eyes. Though Lily would still be considered a beauty, she would no longer stand out the way she used to. Rather than being a cynosure, she would blend in a crowd, appearing as a naive ingénue to court observers and those unaware of her true identity.
Lily's subdued gaze shifted from her malformed appearance to the greyed man who inaudibly approached her from behind and settled his wiry hands on her shoulders. He spoke kind-heartedly, "I am truly apologetic for having to disguise your natural beauty, Lily. If the other deatheater at your school glimpsed you, he will relay the information to Voldemort or recognize you should you ever encounter him. I am not willing to take another chance with your life."
A shudder snaked down Lily's spine at the thought of seeing the deatheaters again. She closed her eyes, swallowing back the dryness in her throat, before she opened them again to concentrate on her new image.
No more etiquette school, or nuns, or regular thrashing. No more mockery, contempt or derision. No more believing to be unloved and abandoned.
Isn't this what you've always wanted?
Instead, a witch. A lady of the court. The daughter of a sick woman and niece of the headmaster of a wizarding school. Secretly marked by a sordid, heart-breaking past, and facing a daunting future.
Images suddenly flooded Lily's head, blistering her vision and crippling her sense of apathy. Lily gasped painfully, her face scrunched up in agony as she pressed her hands to her temples and closed her eyes. She was confused...happy and sad...utterly exhausted and overwhelmed.
"I think I have overwhelmed you enough for one day. I shall bring you to your room so you can get some much-needed sleep." Dumbledore said benignly, quiet worry etched on his aged face as he tried to decipher the unnerved look in her eyes, "It all seems impossible now, but I assure you, Lily, things will make more sense in the morning."
Lily nodded wordlessly, too tired to even respond.
I woke up Lily Evans. I discovered I am Lily Everard. Now, I drift to sleep as Lady Aurora Rockford...
Author's Notes
So...did you like it? =P
I AM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THE NEXT CHAPTER! It's going to be very angst-y! Anyone want to review to motivate me to write faster? ;)
Thanks must go out to my beautiful readers and reviewers! Xox
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