In which Lily comes to a realization that she had several years ago.
Lily imagined that fall was the one season where the gardens of Malfoy Manor did not look impeccable. Oh, earlier in the season she imagined it'd been glorious, with the leaves red, orange, and yellow.
In the summer, the gardens were meticulously kept. It was painfully, painstakingly, French with clean lines and grass lawns and hedges trimmed in geometric patterns. There were dozens of breeds of flowers, each a burst of color, but they stayed neatly in their beds and didn't stray a petal out of line. Even the peacocks knew exactly where they were meant to stand. They'd been beautiful, of course, and awe inspiring but also been a bit surreal.
However, while they were just as geometrically pleasing as before, they were now in the barren part of fall. The leaves had already fallen and been swept away, the trees were all stripped bare, and without snow to blanket the ground there was only a drab overhead sky, dying grass, and a few morose looking albino peacocks.
It was still the evening of October 31st, but midnight was soon approaching.
Lily found herself hesitating at the front gates with Rabbit.
Outside, here, you'd have no idea that anyone was inside right now. The windows were all shuttered, not a hint of light coming through them, and there was no sound from anywhere. This, of course, wasn't all that unusual.
That'd been the state of affairs for the Malfoy estate ever since Lily had come there. It came with the territory of fugitives, kidnapped girls who lived, and resurrected dark lords taking over your house for their own illicit business.
Like Las Vegas, what happened inside that house stayed inside that house.
The Malfoys hadn't been thrilled about that but—well—Wizard Lenin had never forgiven them for Trotsky. So, he'd made it his life's purpose that they never be thrilled about anything ever again.
Just like he'd sent Lily back to Hogwarts to hunt for a rat because her entire existence unwittingly had made a mockery of his.
She'd been so upset about that not so long ago.
Wordlessly, she stepped inside the gate, pulling Rabbit after her. She made the long trek from the beginning of the drive all the way to the front door. There, for the first time, rather than barge in, she knocked.
She waited one minute, then two, then the door was opened by Narcissa Malfoy.
"Eleanor?" she asked, her eyes widening in shock as well as a hint of fear.
Ellie Potter had been a bit of an anomaly in the Malfoy's lives. They'd never fully understood just why she was in their house, what she and Wizard Lenin had to do with each other, or what they were supposed to do about her.
As a result, while they'd always been unfailingly (perhaps even disturbingly) polite, they'd also been tense, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"What happened?" Narcissa asked without prelude, ushering her inside, then in a hushed voice asked, "Is Draco safe?"
"He's fine," Lily said, "Hogwarts is fine, everyone's fine, this isn't about him."
Narcissa visibly relaxed though that edge of anxiety didn't disappear. Because if Lily wasn't here because of Hogwarts exploding then she was still here. It meant someone probably had noticed her disappearance, they'd ask questions, they might track her here. And it meant she was here for something else.
"Is he here?" Lily asked, just as she expected, Narcissa flinched.
"Yes," she said simply, then, her voice catching in her throat, "He's in the drawing room."
Lily nodded and began walking, not removing her shoes or offering any more pleasantries, she mindlessly pulled Rabbit along with her.
Just as Narcissa had promised, Wizard Lenin was in the drawing room. He stood over a desk, glass of scotch in hand, overlooking several scrolls of parchment marked with scrawling handwriting.
He looked important.
He looked like one of those photographs of important people doing important things in a history textbook. Underneath would be a caption about Tom Riddle studying this law or that law or simply plotting world conquest.
He looked like the kind of man who made you think that history, the human condition, was only ever shaped or brought about by great men.
At the sound of her footsteps, he said absently, "Bellatrix, I thought I told you I was not to be disturbed tonight."
"I'm afraid I have news," Lily said, "I didn't think you'd want it to wait."
He quickly looked up. Gone was the ambiance, the charisma, and there was only his startled face and wide blue eyes staring at her like he'd never seen her before in his life.
"Lily?" he asked, and—
For a moment, there, it sounded like he'd truly missed her.
Like, without even realizing it, she'd become a marked absence in his life. Not that he couldn't go on without her, of course, but that it wasn't the same. Much the way that Lily could go to Hogwarts or wherever without him.
But then the moment was gone, and he only looked annoyed.
She wondered if she'd only imagined, projected in her quiet desperation, that look on his face.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with a sigh.
Before she could answer he walked over to an armchair, throwing himself into it even as he drank the last of his scotch, "And don't tell me you've dropped out already. I won't have it, you're not even halfway through the bloody term."
He pointedly wasn't looking at her but instead staring at the fire.
Lily didn't move from the doorway. She just looked at him. Looked at the world he'd made for himself without her in it.
This was what he'd always wanted, she realized, to be the sort of man who sits in rooms by himself. The world would stand on his doorway, begging for his attention, dancing to the tune he played, but it'd never be allowed inside where it might touch him.
This was what Voldemort was.
And she remembered how easily the other Tom Riddle had thrown it aside.
As if it were garbage.
Lily cleared her throat, "I told you, Lenin, I have news, that's all."
He sighed from his chair, pouring himself another glass, as if he just knew he was going to need it in a few seconds.
"Well?" he asked when she said nothing.
Then, finally, he looked back to the entryway, clearly annoyed, "Oh, don't just stand there, Lily. You look like a halfwit."
Lily blinked, thrown for a second, and awkwardly made her way inside. She took the seat across from Wizard Lenin, leaving Rabbit to loom ominously over her shoulder.
"If it's about your unprecedented number of detentions then I've already heard about that," Wizard Lenin said as he sipped at his drink, "I've also already heard about the dementor induced fainting spells and the fact that you've been held back a year by dear old Slughorn."
"Malfoy?" Lily guessed dryly.
"He's not worth much as a spy but I suppose he does tell me somethings that you conveniently leave out," Wizard Lenin acknowledged.
He gave her a single raised eyebrow, waiting for her to just come out and say it. When she didn't, he said, "Let me guess, you've accidentally murdered Pettigrew."
Lily flinched, but he was smiling at her, looking dreadfully amused.
"Draco Malfoy also told me that you caused quite the disturbance your first week of school, that you were chasing after Ron Weasley's fat rat and flung yourself out the window," Wizard Lenin said, enjoying himself entirely too much as he watched Lily squirm, "Then, of course, that Ron Weasley went around accusing you of having kidnapped and eaten his beloved rat like the ghoulish Slytherin monster that you are."
"Given that it's now been two months and I have yet to even hear about this rat from you—I'm guessing Peter has met some unfortunate and irrevocable end," he concluded with a winning smile.
"You're not upset?" Lily found herself asking against her will.
He gave her a look, "Lily, had I been all that invested in Pettigrew's retrieval, believe me when I say I would have put anyone else on the job. You bungle up everything you ever set your mind to. I, frankly, would have been surprised if you'd delivered him to me in good health."
For a moment—for a moment she wondered if she could sit here and say nothing. If she could say that yes, of course Pettigrew was dead, and oh boy she really had bungled that up hadn't she? They'd have a good laugh, he'd throw her back to Hogwarts and then—
And then what?
There was no place for her in this room.
Oh, there was another chair, he'd invited her in, but she was only a guest. She was here on his terms, not hers, and she now realized that that was the way it was always going to be.
Suddenly, it seemed so simple and obvious, that Lily wasn't a part of his world.
"I have decided to live a quiet life," Lily said.
"What?" he asked with a huff of laughter.
"I have decided to try my hand at—not being an ordinary person, per se, I don't think I can manage that, but having an ordinary life," she continued, looking directly at him and using all she had to convey how serious she was.
"That's your news?" he asked. He sounded amused, as if he were on the verge of laughing, like he was surprised but felt he shouldn't have been surprised in the least. He sounded like Lily had just told him she'd flung herself out the window to chase after a fat rat. As if this was an ordinary line she might drop in an ordinary conversation and it meant nothing at all.
"I'm not going to hunt down traitors anymore," Lily continued, "I'm not going to interfere in politics. I'm not going to grandstand and make heartfelt speeches about being girls who lived or girls who should have died. I'm not going to hunt basilisks or philosopher's stones."
"Well, that's all well and good," Wizard Lenin said dryly, "But how in the world are you going to manage that?"
"I'll just go to school," Lily said, "I'll go to school, I'll do my homework, and when I graduate I'll get some job somewhere or another doing something perfectly legitimate. The world will be shaped around me by people far more important than myself and I will—try to be a good person. I will try to make this world a better place in ordinary ways. I will try to do right by people. That's what I've decided."
She swallowed.
He seemed to have realized something was wrong, that whatever Lily's news was that this wasn't it, or that whatever this meant it had more implications than he wanted to guess at. She'd once wondered, feared, about her future once he left her head. How would she define herself without him in her life?
She wondered that same thing now only—
Only now she had to make the choice that she had once never dreamed possible.
It had always been him who would leave her.
"I gave Pettigrew to the aurors," Lily explained, "Sirius Black was innocent of everything, he deserves to be remembered for what he was, good or bad, not for crimes that weren't his."
Wizard Lenin set down his scotch.
He didn't say anything.
The fire crackling sounded deafening in the silence.
"Why would you do that?" he asked quietly.
She didn't answer his question, instead, she continued, "I also met Hindenburg, coincidentally he has possessed the wayward Sirius Black. He has vowed to me that he'll be legitimate, that he'll do things the legal way, at least until he ends up in a position where he can write the laws himself. He won't challenge you over Voldemort. I imagine you two can go to war with each other and see which of you lands on top. It'll be great fun, I'm sure."
Wizard Lenin's eyes flared, brighter and more intense than the fire, "He's possessed Black and you still—"
"If not Black it's just going to be somebody else," Lily interjected, "And I—am tired of doing the wrong thing for the wrong reasons."
And if that meant giving up the stone, if that meant sitting here now and looking at the way Wizard Lenin was looking at her, then suddenly she could live with that.
"I'm not cut out to be a dark lord," Lily confessed, lacing her fingers together and looking down at them, "I'm not cut out to be a part of your world and—it's not a world you want me interfering with. You've made that so very clear. You've made it clear and—you were right. I don't belong in rooms like these."
He swallowed harshly, his rage palpable and causing his hair to stand on end. The windows around them began to rattle in their frames. However, when he spoke, his voice was deathly quiet, "And where do you belong?"
"I don't know," Lily said, "But it's not here."
"And what am I to say to all of this?" Wizard Lenin asked, "You gave Pettigrew to the aurors? You can't imagine I won't make it my business to find him, to remind him what happens to those who think they can run from me."
"Just as I'm sure the other you will make it his business that Pettigrew is alive and well by the time he needs to make it to trial," Lily countered.
"Why?" Wizard Lenin asked, "You never even met that man, he was nothing to you, why would you—"
"It's not about him," Lily said quietly, "It's not even about you or me. It's—"
She cut herself off and looked back up at him. She took him in. His expressive, handsome, face, his piercing eyes, his dark suit, his pale hands filled with so much aristocratic grace. She took him in, and she thought about how she must look sitting next to him.
So much younger, in that awkward phase of adolescence where some parts of her were much too skinny and too long, still nowhere near adulthood. Hair a vibrant, blinding, red and springing out in curls in every direction. Eyes too large and too green for her face. Her forehead marred by a scar in the shape of lightening bolt, looking like it'd been done in a cheap tattoo parlor. Her clothes, too, even as suited for the weather as these ones were, didn't match his in the least.
Anyone could take a look at the pair of them and tell you that they didn't belong in the same movie.
Anyone could take a look at the room and tell you that Lily had wandered onto the wrong set.
"We don't belong together," Lily quietly concluded.
He stared at her, at first stunned, but then his eyebrows lowered, and his lips curled into a sneer.
"No, we don't," he agreed, "We never did. You've always, at best, been an inconvenience. Always getting in the way of everything."
"If it weren't for you," Wizard Lenin continued, "Then I'd have been ruling this pitiful nation years ago. As early as 1981, I could have been a king. I have wasted twelve years of my life on a little girl who doesn't even have the nerve to know her place."
"And now, because of you," he said, "I get to watch as Sirius Black is pardoned, how wonderful for him, and I get to watch as another Tom Riddle benefits from your sudden need for charity."
He laughed then, "And I do love that, Lily. Do good by people? When have you ever done that? Do you remember how many people have suffered because of you? How many people have died now? And not all of it was at my prompting, was it? Some of it was just because—well, because people mean nothing to you. How wonderful for you, Lily, that you have suddenly decided to become a real person, a good person, and join society as an upstanding citizen. Truly, what a noble sacrifice you have made for this nation. The world will applaud you, or would, until they learned that you singlehandedly resurrected their worst nightmare from the grave."
"That's not what I'm saying—" Lily said, squeezing her eyes shut, but he spoke over her.
"Good, Lily, go back to Hogwarts," he commanded, "Crawl back to Hogwarts, back to Dumbledore, to Slughorn, to Hermione Granger, and appreciate how very much they appreciate you. Enjoy your ordinary life, your studies, your detentions, and simmer in the mediocrity you've chosen while I take the world by storm. And when you come back to my door, realizing how shallow the world out there is, don't expect me to open it and welcome you back with open arms."
"If you make this choice," he hissed, "Then you are making it now and you are making it forever. If you leave now, then don't you ever dare come back."
He ended with a finger pointed at her chest, breathing heavily, but he didn't look away. He held her there beneath his gaze, just daring her to move, to blink, to speak a single word.
With shaking legs, Lily stood, she stood but she didn't move anywhere.
She just stared at him and—
"Goodbye, Tom," she said.
And then there was only empty space where she and Rabbit had been a second before.
Author's Note: Thanks to Vinelle for betaing the chapter. Thanks to readers and reviewers, reviews are much appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter