Chapter Twenty-Five: Allusions to Nothing Less
"Yes, of course… dancing? Not a problem, Mrs Whitfield. Naturally, I look forward to it. What? Yes, of course. Oh my, that's much too kind, I could not possibly—well, if you insist, I suppose. I shall see you tonight then—oh? He will? I see. I will be waiting at the estate then. Farewell."
Hanging up the phone, Lily sighed. The Whitfields had taken extreme honour in her choice to arrive—having already prepared everything days before. By the sound of it, their ballroom had been rebuffed, shined, the chandeliers were lit and replaced, new paintings were hung up and tables were redone. The only other family that made personal grievances to live within a proper mansion other than the Evans were the Whitfields—long time business partners as well as rivals. Although it was a well-kept secret that only maids and butlers actually lived in the actual mansion upon the estate.
The key difference was that the only thing the maids within the Evans estate had to do was to dust a mansion that was hardly used for living and maintain courtyards that were never touched.
Matthew Whitfield was due to arrive by limousine in approximately fifteen minutes, the time, Lily had estimated, it would take to create a list of things that she should want to tell this boy before being lowered into her grave. Sirius Black may be a vile creature, but Mr Matthew Whitfield most certainly defined vile. Up until third grade every summer he would tease her in an incessant non-stop manner that involved various allusions to how they may one day get married to each other. Lily, who had sported a mouth with a sharp mind of its own at the time, rebuked him in various ways—each time much crueller than the next. It was this lack of manners for suitors that Lily managed to avoid silly thoughts for arranging marriages early on from aspiring parents in the social world.
Indeed, Sirius Black was one who would never have it as bad as Matthew Whitfield.
Lily found it a simply amazing fact how her mother had to grow up within this atmosphere and not want certain other heads to simply fall off the planet of their own volition. Certainly, rich people had far too much time on their hands as to disturb other rich people—or gloat to others how much richer they were than them. The estimated value of the Evans estate was never publicly discussed, but many imagined it to be higher than the Whitfield estate currently is. In fact, both Diane and Tristan were veterans within the business world and made money fairly easy—thus the cause of Tristan having bought Lily as many dresses or skirts or flowers to adorn her room as she wanted.
At the ring of the doorbell, Lily sighed and nodded to a nearby maid to get it as she went up to her room. No doubt a night of dancing and she would require her dancing shoes and some dusted over dancing gown—a green one, she decided, since her hatred for green reminded her so very much of her hatred of Matthew Whitfield. Pulling it out of the closet, she frowned at it repulsively. This was the dress he had bought for her the year previous that she had never worn. Matthew was returning from a trip to France and had brought it back in high hopes that she would accept his proposal of marriage—effectively allowing him to claim possession over her.
Lily had publicly accepted it, then later threw it on the floor in front of him in private—at which point it had then been delivered to her room where she had thrown it out a window. A maid retrieved it from the third-story balcony of her window—as the hem of the skirt had become caught on the windowsill. Later on it had been repaired and put in her closet by the head maid—who, at the time, had become great friends with Lily and earned to keep the spare key to the garden, which lay in her vanity for some time since Petunia ceremoniously tossed it in the fire when the letter came.
After putting it on, she blankly wondered where that head maid was at current when she remembered that her father had given her the month of November and December off as paid vacation time. Pinning her hair up with skilled practice and speed, she dusted herself over as to look like an hour preparation before leaving her room and coming down the stairs.
Matthew was already nervously tapping his foot, staring at the door while a maid waited nearby patiently—keeping watch on the visitor. As her eyes went up to Lily, Matthew caught the maid's stare and turned around, reflexively smiling at her as he held out a hand.
"Trash, I will not defile myself with you. Get out of my house. Now, as the phrase requests it," she said quickly and testily. Dealing with the toxic charms of Matthew Whitfield would surely poison her delicate skin with long exposure. There was no telling what sort of mutations might be had from long exposure—for instance, the desire to feel faint within his presence. Although the possibility of that desire being because of his vile person was not out of the question.
Retracting his hand, he smiled broadly, leading the way out—as was their personal custom rather than the customs that society had long ago decided by some means. Rather than have the lady leave first—as came the common phrase 'ladies first'—in this case Lily, she righteously made show of kicking Matthew out of her home and making the extra mile as to ensure that he would not simply lock her out and enjoy the five-star resort that surely was the Evans manor.
"Touchy as always, Lily, but my, you are as charming as always as well, so I am not complaining overtly. After you, my dear," he said, opening the car door for her, not a hint of rude or crude visible. As perceptive as Lily was, Matthew lived and grew up within a high-class society, more so than Lily and thus was able to fool even the strongest of perceptions.
Stepping into the limousine, Lily pulled the rest of her dress in as he closed the door behind her, stepping in from the other side. Lily turned her head to look out the window so that she would be given the option of giving him very generic responses to his chatter. After all, Matthew Whitfield was one bred to be nothing more than an individual who was full of hot air and other nonsensical unrealistic things meant solely to please others. Matthew Whitfield knew nothing of the affairs of the world and didn't care for them either. Such a person, Lily knew, she would never be able to find likeable in any way.
Matthew Whitfield to her was simply a horse that has a carrot dangling in front of it.
Surprisingly, the ride to the estate was quiet and Matthew did not even attempt to make conversation with her the entire way there. Once the car stopped, he got out from his side and went around and opened her door, offering her a hand that she did not take. His mother was nowhere in sight and pretences were not necessary. As soon as he closed the door, the limousine drove off.
"Is your mother waiting inside?"
"Yes, they all are. Lily… really, I have to talk with you first."
Turning to him with an initial frown, it eventually disappeared when she saw how very seriously he was looking at her with those blue eyes of his. As far as she knew, his entire family had green eyes, thus it was by clear miracle he had happened to have blue. "What is it?" she asked softly, taking a delicate approach.
Matthew stepped up to her and took her hand in his, Lily found that she didn't want to disturb his thoughts and so she let him. That sombre face on someone who had never shown care or worry for anything or anyone in his entire life other than himself seemed so sincere that his next few words must be nothing short of profound.
"More than anything, I think you should know something."
Curiosity tugged on Lily and she found she wanted to know whatever he was about to tell her as well. This boy's countenance, currently, was formal—yet he didn't know anything else being raised in such high circles and was thus worthy of suspicion. Matthew Whitfield was very much like herself—top of his school, most admired, most loved and most respected. Lily had stubbornly refused to place the similarities between them until now.
"What's that?" she asked tartly.
Looking away for only a moment before staring right back into her eyes and fixing her gaze, he pursed his lips nervously. "More than anything, I should let you know that… I am an idiot."
Lily smiled serenely. "That much, I already—"
"Also," he continued, "that I very much… very much… from the first moment we were formally introduced… I think you are a very wonderful person. That is to say, Lily Evans, I very much… very much love you."
Indeed, such a grand proposal could find no words from Lily as she was simply shocked. There had been mutual dislike or at least distrust between them. From the way he had teased her from her childhood on and from the way he spoke to her so very charming and rude, certainly, she couldn't ever foresee something such as this ever happening. The happenstance of this was so rare to her that it would be like an individual being struck by lightning three times in a row.
The next incident was even more stunning to her as he dropped to one knee while holding her hand and pulling out a velvet box.
"Whitfield, this is—"
"Nothing less. Lily Evans, will you marry me? Not politically, not as an arranged thing, but for the fact that I love you, forevermore. My mother did not put me up to this, and neither did my father. This was a decision I made on my own—yes, foolish Matthew Whitfield only doing as Mommy and Daddy command, I know it all. I am familiar with it enough."
This was a side of him that Lily never knew existed and would have been perfectly happy to never know. She felt as if something had frozen her entire body as she felt unable to move. No clear thought entered her mind and nothing certainly left it. The determination in his eyes were so strong that she wanted to indulge him forever—wanted to say yes and be his. There was a future with this boy, there was admiration with this boy—this boy had everything to offer her and even his undivided love as well.
Such a thing… was not an easy thing to simply turn away.
Coughing, she turned her head away. "I will… consider it," she said, her hand muffling the already quiet tone of her voice. "I believe your mother is waiting… for us…"
Matthew only smiled and stood up—her hand still in his. "I look forward to a favourable answer."
"Possibly," she said, taking her hand back and walking into the house on her own as he bowed and followed closely behind her. A servant opened the door for them and Lily walked into the splendour of the Whitfield home. It sparkled with a newly buffed and waxed shine as she could see her reflection upon the marble floor.
Mister and Misses Whitfield stood at the bottom of the staircase upon the velvet rug that flowed straight from the second floor down the stairs to the impossibly large doors. The image of their faces simply rose about ten levels in complexion when they saw her as Matthew took her arm upon coming in like the gentleman he at least pretended to be. His parents had always been a deathly strong advocate of their marriage and always saw it as a future rather than a possibility. Both Lily and her parents never had the heart to disillusion them of such grandeur.
"Lily! What a pleasure to see you! Staying for dinner, I hope?"
Lily smiled brightly. "Perhaps, I have other engagements this evening, but I could not resist but to come and catch up with you. I've been away at that private school for so long I dearly do miss seeing everyone," she said with practiced cheer and grace. Idle chatter like this was one of Lily's expertises, after all.
Mrs Whitfield was absolutely delighted with this response—more so since her only daughter, Elizabeth, was far from being a lady. Elizabeth had opted to join the rankings of a public school, her initial logic being that she would dazzle them all and be top of the school. Logic had, however, failed on Elizabeth and in the end she turned out less refined than she had prospected to be. Her manner was not entirely common though.
"Of course, Lizzie misses you so very much while you're away. The poor dear is simply bored to tears without you." Mrs Whitfield had been long ago fooled into believing that Lily and Elizabeth were the best of friends even though they only spent their summers together—and not even. Lily always indulged Mrs Whitfield simply because of who she was and no less.
"My, I miss her as well. The days are simply bland without her."
Mrs Whitfield nodded accordingly. "Yes, anyway, let's get out of the doorway here. Travis, prepare the sitting room for us all and check on dinner. The rest of the guests are due to arrive any second to sup with us. Come, Lily dear, there will be plenty of time to spend with Matthew later on in the evening, I imagine," she said as Lily moved from Matthew's arm to his mother's. "That dress looks simply stunning on you as well; his pick, I believe."
As if Lily did not realize the very subtle hints every time she visited this home about that matter, it simply had to be stated in front of them both as well.
"Why yes, it's a ravishing colour, don't you think? Very well with my eyes," she lied. Green, in fact, was the colour that Lily detested most.
After another thirty minutes of idle chatter with Mrs Whitfield and tea, Lily heard music start to be played in the ballroom nearby and the succulent smells of dinner being made and cooked to perfection. Lily thought her mind would go raw with all the fabrication on the status of her non-existent relationship to this woman's son and meaningless chatter. Within ten minutes of walking out of this room she wouldn't have a mind to remember any of what this woman had said in the last half hour anyway.
Mr Whitfield was never much one to talk to Lily, and if he ever did it would always be when they were alone or out of earshot of everyone else. If anything, Mr Whitfield was the strongest advocate of either them getting married or not. Although he wanted the marriage to happen as much as everyone else, and that want was very apparent in the way he had fed Lily various tidbits on the preferences of Matthew, he still wanted to give Lily a choice that he never got.
Mr William Whitfield had been in an arrangement to marry Kate Iverson since they were children and had known nothing less or more about Kate than hearing repeatedly that Kate would be the one he would marry. At the age of twenty-two, that was simply what had happened.
Both Diane and Tristan, however, had expertly skirted around the issue whenever in conversation with the Whitfields and so arrangements of that sort were never made. They had long ago told Lily that an arranged marriage would not be necessary for her since becoming a witch. Lily had bluntly told them that she would throw away magic for the muggle world any day for there was nothing in that world for her that she had become deathly attached to in order to stay.
Eventually, the conversation was ushered into the ballroom and Lily took a dance with Matthew, her eyes refusing to look at him the entire time although her face smiled and put on a show for everyone to see. This was natural for her, for she smiled like this whenever she was dancing with any of the nameless boys that also wished to marry her. During the season, Lily had often stayed at home, feigning an illness to avoid the affair altogether.
As she danced with Matthew and felt his light grip on her waist and on her hand, she remembered another individual that she had shared dances with far, far away from here. In a more unnatural setting in a more unnatural place with the same atmosphere that this one carried. In the corner of her eye she saw the Duchess and out of the other she saw a very distant—but blood-related—relative of the queen. In this same way she saw Emily Richardson's and Keily Hawkes' and Alicia Roses and countless others who had their eyes all on her.
Lily also blithely remembered that she had never noticed any of that at the time for her concentration had all been upon presenting her very best to the boy she had been dancing with. In fact, the second that his name sprang to life in her mind her feet had stopped moving and she had halted all at once. Matthew blinked a bit before attempting to assess the issue a bit further.
Taking a step back and away from him, she gave a deep curtsey, muttered an apology and dashed out of the ballroom. Giving a glance at Mrs Whitfield told her that the woman had assumed that Matthew proposed to her and that was the cause of her fluster. There was little surprise that a large smile was plastered all over her face.
Finding the closest phone to her, she called for her driver to come and pick her up post-haste. After that, Lily ran out of the mansion, waiting patiently outside the door. A display like that was unforgiveable and, considering the circumstances, most likely very confusing more than anything else. The most eligible match for any son had just madly dashed out away from the most eligible match for any daughter and left without a word or a trace like a loon.
Very appealing.
Once her driver appeared, she ran down the stairs and, just as she laid her hand on the door handle, not waiting for her driver to do that for her, Lily heard the unmistakable sound of Matthew calling her name out. Lily stopped and looked back at him for a moment before fully turning around and paying him all her attention.
"Lily, I don't know what just happened a while ago, but… I'll see you in the summer. This will be the last I see you until then because I know you'll be going back to St Katherine de Belle in France soon." Due to Lily's magical heritage her parents had made arrangements with the school to look as if she were attending, but not really. The school, it seemed, would graciously do it for anyone who had recently donated a considerable fund to them. "So I'll see you in the summer."
Lily blinked, vaguely remembering that, yes, she was 'attending' that school. "Yes, of course, au revoir, as they say in France. I'll see you soon then," she rushed quickly as she turned back around and entered the back of the limousine.
"The estate, don't dally," she commanded strongly.
"Yes, Lady Evans," the driver responded promptly, quickly making tracks off the Whitfield property.
Lily could see Matthew waiting there up until he was out of sight, and even then, she imagined, he did not move until positive that he would not see her again. The next time they would meet, however, Lily would have for him a fairly unpleasant answer and would need the many months up until then to formulate such an answer in a way that would cause the least amount of pain. Being a heartbreaker was something that Lily desperately tried to avoid being for the majority of it. Her status and reputation at Hogwarts was so finely built that she had no worries of breaking any hearts—truly—and so she had used that to her advantage.
Once back home, Lily gave the driver orders to wait there for her before she ran out of the limousine and up to the doors of the estate, ringing the doorbell frantically for a maid to answer.
"I wondered how long you would take," someone said, addressing her.
Lily swivelled, alarmed at the sudden conversation to see James Potter, sitting on the base of the nearest pillar, facing the mansion. He wore a tuxedo of the finest make, it seemed, and also seemed to have been waiting there for a tremendous amount of time for her.
"James Potter, what on earth—"
"Tut tut, Miss Evans, we are late for dinner I imagine, but shall be there in time for dancing in the ballroom. I will treat you to our chef's finest chocolate deserts after if you are hungry."
Before Lily could say another word in edgewise, the maid had opened the door and, upon seeing who it was, opened the door wider to allow her entry. Lily stood there for only a moment before leaning over to pull on James' wrist and led him inside, leaving him at the base of the stairs before running up and lifting her skirt up to dash to her room. After slipping out of the green dress as quickly as she could, she ceremoniously tossed it to a far corner and scanned the many rows of dresses for her favourite one. It was a blue iridescent one that came off the shoulders and was detailed in white as well.
Pulling the drawer in her vanity out she cracked open her most precious jewellery box and put on the set of diamond earrings and necklace, slipping on white silk gloves that ran to her elbows. Putting on a different set of shoes, she looked herself in the mirror over again after quickly restyling her hair to look more refined. Satisfied, she left her room and slowly walked down the stairs to James who was patiently waiting at the bottom of those stairs.
"Wonderful as always, Lils, like the finest breed of royalty descending from nothing less than heaven. You will make all the others simply cry," he said as they started off and out the door.
Lily smiled brightly. "Silly boy, I will make hardly anyone cry other than those I will not dance with."
James laughed. "No, really, you will make them cry; there are a lot of girls our age at this party that I simply don't want to pay a mind to—although I'm sure they'll pay much more than a penny of any degree of prettiness for parts of mine."
Lily laughed, enjoying the charms of this boy for all they were and were not. "What would I have to pay for your thoughts then?"
James turned away from her and smiled. "For you, most certainly a gracious discount for my useless thoughts, Miss Evans. For you, you get the special price of absolutely nothing."
Lily smiled as he opened the door for her. "What a fine discount, indeed."
The limousine they had entered, Lily was unsure whether it was hers or James', but for Lily, it didn't matter for nothing mattered when she was with this boy. Time could stop forever or the world could stop spinning, for when she was with this boy roses would forever be in full bloom and their scent would fill the air so fragrantly there was no need to stop in order to effectively smell them.
As James ordered the driver to their destination, Lily enjoyed an entertaining car ride the way there—as James would simply not stop talking about how direly long he had waited for her out in the cold—hoping that she would come back sooner with every passing second. It was cold out on her doorstep he had vaguely reminded her many times as well.
Upon reaching the Potter estate, Lily took a look at the house and wondered why she had never seen it before when she had noticed the nameplate on the gates. It had clearly read 'White;' the name of the most esteemed family in all of Britain. They were of the oldest generation and the most respected line. Theirs was a lineage that was not royalty, but could be. The Whitfields and Evans could not compare to these that were eligible to dine with the Kings and Queens of Britain, the nobles of Ireland, and the Dukes and Duchesses of Scotland.
Upon entering those gates, Lily felt awe like never before and remained speechless, simply staring out at the large expanse of land that must all be owned by this family. It was not until they stopped at the foot of the stairs to the mansion that looked as if it could fit an entire army inside that Lily turned to James to find him not there, instead on the other side of the door, opening it for her.
Lily stepped out and looked to James, utterly speechless.
Compared to this boy, her heritage was nothing.
"James, what—"
"My mother… Eveline White is of pureblood wizarding descent as is my father, Kurtis Potter. My mother remains a White, simply because she was the only child born and the name must continue on. I have two elder sisters, Relina and Arianna, Arianna will continue on the White name. It is a very different family building compared to others. I am not the first-born; therefore I have no right to the White name. My father was of a lesser family—though my mother married out of love."
Lily was not much for the elite circles of the wizarding world, but clearly, she could see now that there were some very important names floating around out there that she would have to take notice of in the future. It was such a mystery to her that this boy was worth so much more than he let on that she could simply not understand why he would simply settle for what he did when attending Hogwarts. Lily did not and she was muggle born.
"Why didn't you tell me you were from such a prestigious name?"
James merely smiled. "Because it would matter to you, that much I know. Also, I'm not truly a White. Come on, there's a dance or two waiting for us, I cannot present myself in front of the Duke without you on my arm or I may be forced to take a dance with one of his daughters."
Taking the proffered arm, Lily let him lead her into the grand estate and into the ballroom. The music stopped for only a moment as to let everyone register blankly that someone important had entered the room. They paused at the door for a moment until the music started up again and everybody looked away once more. These people did not recognize Lily and only took notice of James. Here, Lily Evans and the Evans name meant little to these people; here Lily Evans was not on the top of the list for attention and proposals.
A woman with a shapely figure approached them as they had ventured slightly deeper—James pointing out various individuals that he deemed Lily would be interested in. "Mr White, a pleasure to see you, and your lady friend… Miss… I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name…" she said genially. It seemed that this girl was a touch dafter and that was her mistake rather than implied rudeness.
"Ah, Duchess Constantine, a pleasure to see you again. Allow me to introduce to you Lily Evans, my date for tonight."
The Duchess looked Lily over finely, like a piece of meat at a dog show before smiling approvingly. "Of a good breed it seems. You have chosen well, Mr White, although I would naturally have preferred one of my daughters to you."
"Naturally," he said with a nod and gracious smile.
"Well, cheerio to you, I only came to greet since I have seen very little of you all night, Mr Potter," she said with a wink before turning her attention elsewhere and moving on.
Lily instantly turned to James, confused out of her mind. "Who was that?"
"The Duchess? She works in the Ministry in the Muggle Associations branch in the first division. Very important woman. Keeps up with the queen, she does," he rattled on as if this information were nothing. "I'm surprised you don't know many of these individuals, many are from the wizarding world. Nearly everyone who is are marked accordingly with a red corsage on the men and red roses on the left on the women. Over there is Ellis Painmere, now that is a woman who is not given the proper title for her reward," he said, pointing to a woman with silvery white hair but looked to be no older than twenty-five. "Currently there is no head in her department; however she is in the second division. Ms Painmere deals with—"
"The Department of Magical Investigations," Lily said, cutting him off. "I am… well aware."
James nodded accordingly but said no more. Soon enough, dancing music started up and people started to clear to the sides while attention was drawn to a central point. Chatter stopped almost instantaneously and all eyes were on him expectantly. "Now it is the time of the night to be danced away. If we could have our gracious host's son and his lovely partner enter the floor first soon followed by our hosts themselves."
Lily's eyes widened. That would mean that they would be out first and everyone would recognize her to be with James Potter—not an overly bad thing anymore—simply ridiculously embarrassing without proper preparation. The atmosphere in this room was so much finer than what she was used to playing at. The games and rules were so much different here than where she was from. Surely, this was the next step up, but her feet and mind refused to join her willing heart in going there.
James led her by the hand properly to the centre as the announcer moved away to let them take the central focus. Lily gripped his hand and shoulder nervously once they were situated and the music replayed for them to start.
"Relax, imagine this to be the ball at school, no more. They'll be dazzled with you, indefinitely," he whispered to her. Three seconds after playing, James started to lead her off and, for a moment, Lily could still feel the stares of everyone on her—wondering who she was and what family she came from. Everyone was, inevitably, wondering the same thing—who was this girl they had never seen?
Lily felt nervous until she looked up at James and was able to relax her grip at seeing those hazel eyes so very directed at her and that warm smile seemingly a smile intended only for her while all others could only hope but to steal glances of it that escaped Lily's vision. Soon enough, the music, this dance, and James Potter were all that she was cognizant of.
It felt right. It felt more natural than anything to be here, upon his stage and being pulled by no strings. Her own stage was Hogwarts—and it was as dull, and as boring and as miserable as the most depressing thing on this planet. Upon the stage of James Potter, she had become more than a puppet and ascended to a star.
"Amazing as always, Lils," he commented once the music played a bit louder and more couples joined them upon the floor.
Lily could only scoff lightly. "I am hardly anything of that. The one who is really amazing here is you, James White."
James only smiled. "That's Potter to you, Miss Evans."
Returning his smile, Lily could not help but feel completely at home. "Indeed, it is, James Potter."
To My Reviewers:
Every time I see that someone's reviewed I get really excited! It makes me indescribably happy to know that everyone enjoys Rain so much! Honestly, when I first published it I didn't think it would get very far, and look at it now. It's all thanks to all your motivation and remarks on everything! Thanks much everyone!
Samarrah: Aw... well, thanks so much! I dislike reading stories with broken English, I even have to screw up my eyes a bit when I make up words that everyone knows the meaning of but technically aren't words. So, if that makes you happy, then be happy to know I'll never write anything less than what you might get out of Rain here! Thanks so much!
Comments:
Yes, before you say anything, I know his name isn't White. Before you mention anything more, I know that the last name White has next to no affiliation with the actual history of James Potter or the wizarding world of Harry Potter at all. Oh, I really wish I could introduce his sisters to you all; they're very charming characters in my mind. Ah well, it just means you'll have to read some of my other stories (that may possibly come out) that include them. If you have read anything of Forget Me Not you'll notice a few similarities.
For some reason this chapter slightly bothered me. Just slightly.
Please R&R.
- Minute Maid
Beverage of Queens.
P.S.
First of all, let me clearly state why I have not updated in such a long time--completely throwing me off my schedule for getting this story done and posted. I don't know where you all live, but where I live, it had rained. Normally, I don't mind this so much. It rains. It rains everywhere on the planet in some form of precipitation. However, this particular rain had managed to leak into my bag, thus destroying and ruining hundreds of very important documents. To say that I was unhappy about this would be the understatement of the century and a straight on lie. I have inadvertently funnelled this anger towards this story in general--possibly because of the title. I know, it's not the story's fault, I blame it on the weather. As a result I have not wanted anything to do with rain weatherwise or digital-wise for the period of four weeks.
For that, I apologize.