Petal in the Rain

Chapter 27 – Edge of a New Life

"The beautiful journey of today can only begin when we learn to let go of yesterday."

-Steve Maraboli

"Ah…there you are. I was beginning to think you had cold feet this morning."

"Giving up on me so quickly, Professor?"

Though she had peeled herself out of bed earlier than even a rooster would've dared, Lily's spirits were high when she arrived at the threadbare hut nestled at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, her Care of Magical Creature book tucked beneath her arm. Her surly tutor was exactly where he said he would be, waiting for her behind the empty caretaker's cottage. Though he donned his customary black cloak and greasy hair, Lily thought something seemed different about him.

"Perhaps hoping you had reconsidered this rather eccentric scheme," Snape responded cavalierly.

"Eccentric it may be, but you agreed to it," Lily pointed out, crossing her arms. "And I'll be damned if I let you back out on me now—I'm much too committed."

"Hmm…we shall see how long that lasts," Snape challenged, motioning for Lily to follow him toward the tree-line; she trailed him hesitantly, the thick trees casting ominous shadows. "In order for us to carry out these lessons in secret, we will practice in the forest; should someone come looking for you, I doubt they will think to look here."

"I thought the Forbidden Forest was dangerous? In Hogwarts, A History, it mentions that the forest has been populated by various lethal creatures…blood-sucking bugbears, acromantula, centaurs…just to name a few," Lily said shrewdly, her blue eyes fixed on a point in the misty distance.

"If you're afraid to merely tiptoe at the edge of the forest, you're not cut out for this discipline," Snape stopped in his tracks, bestowing his warning unsympathetically.

Lily repressed her huff of indignation, instead returning her tutor's pessimism with a stubborn glower. "I'm just making conversation."

"Undoubtedly," Snape cracked an arrogant smirk, plunging further into the silent forest. He stopped a hundred feet in, just before the trees grew so closely together that no light filtered in through the jade-coloured canopies. "We aren't deep enough in the forest to encounter any noteworthy creatures. You'd have to walk more than an hour north to find a centaur—and even then, the beasts are difficult to track. We haven't been troubled by bugbears in years."

"Somehow I don't find that comforting…" Lily grimaced.

She watched as Snape unearthed his wand from his robes and muttered a spell under his breath; several balls of light floated out of the wand's tip, each as buoyant as a newly-formed soap bubble. The luminescent orbs situated themselves around the boundaries of a small clearing, irradiating what Lily suspected to be their arena.

Snape stepped into the middle of the brightened space to examine his work; when he turned to observe her, Lily was struck by how at ease he appeared in the shadowy woods—like a bat returning to its cave. As he began to speak, she listened humbly: "I am going to teach you how to defend yourself against dark creatures and dark wizards—namely those persons proficient in the dark arts. You will learn both defensive and offensive spells. Some academics have argued that only a knowledge of defensive spell-work is necessary; however, I am of the belief that a strong offense equals a good defense."

Lily nodded in silent agreement, her nerves twitching.

"In your spare time, you will study defensive theory and rhetoric, as well as read up on various dark creatures that may one day pose a threat to you," Snape explained evenly, his silky confidence unwavering. "Our sessions together will be dedicated to the practice of defensive and offensive spell-work. If—and only if—you are able to master an array of spells, we will move into dueling."

Now that sounds like fun…

"You are required to bring your wand to every meeting, and I strongly suggest you wear something practical, rather than your pretty little dresses. Can you manage that?" Snape derided.

"Oh, how ever will I survive?" Lily bit back, Snape's mocking beginning to get under her skin. The liveliness she had arrived with was slowly ebbing away.

When comes the part where I get to curse him?

Snape produced a puckered piece of parchment from his robes and furnished it upon her. "That's your reading list. Start with the first textbook and make your way down—don't skip ahead. If you don't learn the basics, advanced texts will read as gibberish. That being said, you can return Godelot's book—yes, I know you have it—to the Restricted Section. That book is more about practicing dark magic than about learning how to defend against it."

Lily's cheeks instantly reddened, the product of being caught sneaking prohibited books from the library; she cleared her throat to distract his razor-sharp notice: "Don't I need a thorough knowledge of dark magic to counteract it? Why not fight dark magic with dark magic?"

Snape raised a surprised brow. Lily suspected she had said something off-colour. "You've arrived at an interesting conclusion—one that is, I'm afraid, dreadfully uninformed. One does not have to practice dark magic in order to successfully thwart it. There is no denying that dark magic is powerful, but such power almost always comes at a cost."

Lily's face wrinkled, Snape's assertion that there was a price tag attached to dark magic intriguing her. She supposed the equation made sense, for if wielding dark magic was an easy pursuit, there likely would've been many more dark wizards littering her history books. To her, it had seemed a logical way to combat Voldemort—fighting fire with fire—but it no longer presented as the golden solution to her problems. Could a witch utilizing conventional magic possibly defeat a wizard abusing black magic? And what price had Voldemort paid for his dark endeavors?

"What sort of cost?" Lily murmured, her voice melding with the hush of the forest as she broke the surface of her contemplation.

"That's a more complex subject. Like I said, you'll be starting with the fundamentals—namely the rudimentary theories discussed in Dark Arts Defense: Basics for Beginners. I'd also like you to research about doxies, gnomes, Cornish pixies and snails. Half a parchment on each being," Snape instructed immovably.

"Snails? You've got to be joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Hard to tell. You could be one of those people who make jokes but don't smile or laugh—if those people even exist," Lily mumbled, stuffing the book list Snape had provided to her between the pages of her Care of Magical Creatures textbook. "Can I learn a spell now, please?"

Snape rolled his eyes in response to her brattiness; Lily's patience had worn too thin for her to care much. "Are you that eager to be knocked on your arse?"

Lily blinked, taken aback by Snape's tetchy remark; she then began to sputter with laughter, finding her tutor's retort to be refreshingly human. His vulgarity had somehow served as a reminder that he wasn't just an over-sized bat with quick wit and a barbed tongue.

"Oh dear, is that what I have to look forward to?" Lily tittered, twisting her fingers around her elaborate wand.

Snape stiffened in response to her laughter; Lily was cheered by the realization that she had ruffled his feathers. "It will be if you don't quit that sniggering and take this seriously."

It was Lily's turn to roll her eyes. "You know, you really should try and loosen up a bit. Have a bit of fun, maybe a laugh or two. Or is the concept totally foreign to you?"

"You think I should have a "laugh", do you?" Snape parroted, coolly turning his wand over in his hands. "Maybe you're right. Know what would give me a laugh?"

"What's that?" Lily humoured him, crossing her arms in defiance.

"Flipendo."

Lily yelped, an invisible force squaring against her shoulders and knocking her backwards into the dirt as if she were a ragdoll. She moaned in a mixture of pain and mortification, scowling at Snape as she shakily stood up and kneaded her aching tailbone. "What the hell was that?"

"That was the knockback jinx, the first spell you will be learning," Snape sneered, reveling in her irritation. "Not pleasant, is it? And I was going easy on you…"

"Why didn't you warn me?" Lily snapped, continuing to rub her backside.

"If I had warned you, I probably wouldn't have laughed…and wasn't that the point?" Snape questioned, his amusement palpable.

"I hate you."

"The feeling is mutual…let's begin."

James sat at a long table fashioned from crude planks in the cellar of the Hog's Head, a dive bar in Hogsmeade he had keenly avoided in his Hogwarts years. Crowded around the table were twenty fellow Order members, their shoulders bumping up against one another as they listened to Dorcas Meadows' debrief on her top-secret assignment in Denmark. Across from him sat a bored Sirius and a bushed Remus, clearly still drained from the last full moon. Frank sat at the opposite end of the table; they did not make eye contact.

Though James had returned to active Order duty following his illegal participation in the muggle war, many members of the group were still wary around him, suspicious of or angry about his disappearance. Sturgis Podmore was surly as ever, but his disdain was nothing compared to Alastor Moody's—a wizard who had little patience for broken ranks. James knew he wouldn't be getting any exciting assignments anytime soon, likely facing months of mind-numbing reconnaissance.

At least I'll have more time to devote to Lily's protection…

"—though things continue to escalate with the muggle war, Churchill maintains he wants no wizard interference. As a precaution, the Ministry will be setting up magical barriers around wizarding hamlets like Hogsmeade to protect against German bombing. Dumbledore has already done so at Hogwarts," Shacklebolt said, addressing the room with his powerful voice. "Although it appears the Dark Lord has no interest in the muggle war, he is trying to use the bombings to help disguise killings he's been carrying out across London. As you may recall, the Browns were killed not long ago – but, bizarrely, their house was the only one blown to pieces on the entire street. That's no coincidence."

There was nothing James wanted more than to meet Voldemort on the battlefield and end him. All the evil things the maniac had carried out, coupled with his apparent interest in murdering his girlfriend, had amounted to James' great, gut-wrenching hatred for the dark wizard. James knew he'd feel no remorse killing him, securing a bright future for Lily and the wizarding world.

"That's all for today. We meet again in a week. Apparate in the alleyway adjacent to the bar so you don't arise any suspicion," Moody barked once Kingsley had wrapped up, throwing open the door to the cellar and gesturing for everyone to get lost.

As Order members began to exit the bar, fervently murmuring amongst themselves, Dumbledore appeared in the doorway.

"James, Sirius, Remus, Frank…might I have a quick word?"

Podmore glared jealously at James as he and the others vacated, leaving the five wizards behind. The four men took a seat back at the table, Dumbledore brandishing his wand to place an anti-eavesdropping spell on the cellar. They all knew who the subject of the conversation was going to be about.

"Thank you for joining me – anyone care for drink?" Dumbledore inquired, five pumpkin juices appearing with a wave of his hand. Sirius scoffed, clearly hoping for something stronger. "As you know, school will be beginning in a week. I've been thinking on Aurora's living situation at the castle and have decided on a course of action. Hogwarts is—without a doubt—one of the safest places for her; a place where she can live, learn and interact with the outside world. After speaking with her, she has agreed to attend the Hogwarts as a seventh-year student, rather than live out her days hidden away in a safe house."

The room lapsed into silence, Dumbledore's revelation prompting the room's deep consideration. Sirius and Remus turned toward James, looking for his reaction. By the way his face was screwed up in a mixture of anger and confusion, they could tell he wasn't too pleased.

"Are you trying to set her up for failure, Dumbledore?" James finally breathed, his eyes sharp. "How can you expect her to pull it off? A seventh year? She's been a part of the magical world for mere months. How is she supposed to study at a seventh-year level? That's absurd."

"No offense, Potter, but you're underestimating her," Frank interjected, his gaze defiant; James grit his teeth, furious that Frank pretended to know Lily better than he did. "She's been spending day-in-and-day-out studying since she arrived at Hogwarts and has demonstrated a high level of aptitude in many subjects; she'll certainly be able to outmatch many of the society girls in her year. You know them – all they care about is music and dancing."

"She is exceptionally clever," Dumbledore agreed, resting a withered hand on James' shoulder. "I've seen few students like her. Her tutor has even suggested that she has a gift for Charms."

James paused, mulling over this new information. He supposed Dumbledore was right about the safety of the castle, but was quick to recognize the challenge of living among magical society students. Not only would Lily have to be on constant guard concerning her knowledge of the magical world, but she would also have to convincingly pass as a member of the aristocracy. She would need help and magical tutoring in addition to her classes—but, as Dumbledore said, she'd have a life.

"There are just so many risks involved, Dumbledore – so many ways her disguise could slip away. The pressure on her would be immense," James said, voicing his anxiety.

"But if she's chosen this, if she's as skilled as she sounds, maybe it won't be so difficult for her to blend in?" Remus questioned, ever the voice of reason. "We all know she's intelligent; she practically knew Hogwarts, A History by memory the last time we saw her—"

"—and she produced a brilliant Confundus charm when we were at the Ministry," Sirius added, flashing Dumbledore a sheepish look. "She even stunned a couple skrewts. Lily is no typical witch, James."

James' objections seemed outnumbered by the wizards in the room. He had to admit, the thought of Lily attending Hogwarts was appealing; he liked the idea of her experiencing something the Dark Lord had robbed her of as a child. Perhaps it was what her deceased parents would have wanted for her, too.

James knew Lord Dumbledore didn't need his permission, but wanted him on board to make the transition easier for Lily. Maybe the old wizard even worried he'd try and run away with her. He couldn't say the idea hadn't crossed his mind.

"Before I agree to this plan, I have one stipulation," James said to Dumbledore, his expression stern. "I won't budge unless you allow me this compromise."

"And what might that be?"

James smiled impishly. This is going to be fun.

When Lily and Snape emerged from the Forbidden Forest many hours later, the midday sun was at its apex. At her tutor's request, Lily tucked away her wand and prominently displayed her Care of Magical Creatures textbook, which she knew she would soon have to begrudgingly crack open to complete her 10-inch scroll on snails.

As they stealthily ducked out from behind the decrepit caretaker's cottage and began to climb the rocky hummock toward the castle, Lily noticed a ghost of a smile cross Snape's usually sour face.

"What are you grinning about?" Lily pounced, resisting the urge to rub her aching back as she scaled the steep incline; she had spent the majority of their lesson off her feet. "Feeling rebellious, teaching me forbidden spells without my uncle knowing?"

"Keep your voice down," Snape hissed, giving her a warning look. "If you're not discrete I may lose my position at Hogwarts…something I'm still uncertain why I'm risking for you."

"You're so dramatic," Lily brushed him off, though she was secretly worried that he was indeed going lose his livelihood because of her. "I don't want to get caught any more than you do. Although I spent most of our lesson on my back—"

Snape's smile reappeared.

"—I'm still grateful for your help. Stop smirking."

"It isn't every day I'm permitted to curse a noble without consequence—and a lady, to make matters more peculiar. If you were me, you'd see the amusement in it all," Snape remarked, stuffing his hands into his robes. "It's not like I haven't wanted to, what with most of my students being aloof, idiotic aristocrats."

"Are you calling me idiotic?"

Snape paused, his black eyes sardonic.

"Although you're being idiotic right now…no," Snape replied, furrowing his brows at the angry girl. He'd never understood women and their tendency to arrive at hasty conclusions. "I'll deny this if you ever repeat it, but you're one of the cleverest students I've had. You're a quick learner and—though it narks me to admit it—gifted in many ways."

Lily's heart leapt, Snape's reluctant divulgence meaning more to her than he would ever know. Though he was an unpleasant person, she respected his knowledge and talent, and knew he wasn't one for flattery.

"You really think so?"

"It's clear you've inherited some of Lord Dumbledore's magical ability—" Snape relented, those his walls were quickly being rebuilt. "—but if you don't continue to work hard at your studies, you won't be any better than those senseless, spoiled children I have to teach every day."

"Hopefully I can continue to prove myself, both in your classes and during our private lessons," Lily ventured, earning a curious look from her professor—he didn't miss a beat.

"In my classes?"

"Hasn't my uncle told you? I'll be attending Hogwarts as a seventh-year student," Lily said, carefully examining the black-haired wizard for his reaction.

"No…he has yet to inform me of that…" Snape muttered cheerlessly, his expression vague and he stared off into the distance. Her information seemed to momentarily distract him.

As the mismatched pair closed in on the looming castle, their feet sinking into the dewy grass, Lily continued to prod Snape for feedback, though he appeared to be doing his best to out-walk her. "My uncle seems to think your lessons have adequately prepared me for formal schooling…do you think that's true? I'm worried I'll be at the bottom of every class, that the students won't think I belong."

Snape's gaze befell someone in the distance, causing him to scowl objectionably. He turned back to Lily, his demeanor changed. "Why don't you take up your silly schoolgirl worries with Longbottom? I don't have time for your nonsense."

Lily opened her mouth to retort, incensed by Snape's rudeness, but closed it shut, surprised to see Frank—impeccably dressed as per usual—lingering by the stairs leading up to the castle. Their eyes locked: his gaze was purposeful, though less warm than she was used to. Lily's nerves became twitchy. She turned to properly admonish Snape, but found he had already slipped away.

"Aurora?"

I'm never going to get used to that name.

Attempting to contain her anxiety, Lily took a deep breath and marched up to Frank, determined to demonstrate that she was unfazed by his anger. Their kiss at the Hogwarts Ball still lingered in the back of her mind, though she was resolute to forget the flirtatious exchange. "I didn't expect you'd turn up anytime soon. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I woke up this morning absolutely craving a dose of your bad attitude," Frank countered, crossing his arms.

Lily jeered, in no disposition to get into an argument with another ill-tempered wizard. "What do you want, Frank? I was under the impression that we weren't on speaking terms."

Frank's eyes narrowed angrily. "And whose fault is that?"

Lily snapped.

"Erghh!" she exploded, storming past a startled Frank and into the castle, her ears turning bright red; if he wanted a fight, she'd give him one. "It's all my fault, Frank! I'm to blame! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?"

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING—" Frank demanded, furiously pursuing the raging girl, his jaw set in anger. "I'M SPEAKING TO—"

"IS THIS NOT EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID WHEN I TRIED TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU? RUN AWAY FROM ME? WELL TWO CAN PLAY AT THAT GAME, LORD LONGBOTTOM!" Lily shrieked, the stress of their conflict mingling with her anxiety concerning becoming a Hogwarts student. She flew up the magical stairs, uncaring that all the portraits were watching her with great alarm. Sir Cadagon galloped from frame-to-frame to keep pace with her.

"Aurora, you are being ridiculous, wait—" Frank went to grab Lily's forearm, catching up to her; she recoiled away from his strong grasp, causing them both to lose their balance and footing.

They yelped in unison as they toppled backwards down some shallow steps, collapsing onto one of the moving landings, a clumsy tangle of arms and legs. Frank groaned, Lily having landed on top of him, her elbow firmly burrowed in his groin.

"I…think…I'm…dying…" Frank rasped, tears welling in his eyes as he clutched at his manhood.

Lily sat up, a crook in her neck to add to her growing list of aches and pains. As she looked down at the broken lord, her anger began to wane, mirth instead taking its place. He looked to be in a great deal of pain, his feathers more ruffled than usual. "For that, I am not taking the blame."

"Bloody irritating girl…"

Lily conceded to helping Frank to his feet, the lord sputtering profanities as he slung an arm over her back, allowing her to help him down the corridor, which was abuzz with whispers and chuckles.

"I suppose you think I deserved that," Frank managed breathily, hunched over as he hopped towards the portrait of the Fat Lady with Lily's assistance.

She bit her tongue, a smile creeping over her features. She whispered the password to the Fat Lady—'beetle soup'—and led Frank over to a plush armchair in the common room, where he curled up into a ball like a tabby cat licking its wounds. Fighting back laughter, Lily turned toward the fireplace and noticed a small mound of brown-packaged parcels, all of which were addressed to her.

"Oh no, not another shipment from Madam Gladrags—" Lily muttered, thinking of the ten trunks already bursting with designer clothing in her dormitory.

"Your school supplies. I took it upon myself to drop into Diagon Alley and purchase what you'll need for the year," Frank stammered between painful grunts, retrieving Lily's official Hogwarts acceptance letter from his pant pocket and handing it to her; she examined it greedily.

"Where's my pet toad, then?"

Frank snorted, shaking his head at the rascally witch. "Although I think a toad is a good match for you, I thought I'd let you choose your own pet. Wouldn't want to overstep."

"Cheeky," Lily replied gently, fidgeting with her acceptance letter as silence crept between them. She sighed, eventually sinking into the chair beside him. "Frank…are we alright?"

Frank paused, looking down at Lily's hand, which had found his. He knew as soon as he met her entreating gaze, it would all be over. Her actions had hurt him—she had betrayed his trust by fleeing to the ministry with Sirius behind his back. He also loathed the thought of her with James, for many reasons. But, at the end of the day, he missed her, and she missed him, and he couldn't distance himself from her even if he wanted to. Lily Everard needed protection and he wouldn't deny her that.

Nor would he deny her his friendship any longer.

"Just don't go running off again. Dumbledore will have my head," Frank replied, offering Lily a half-smile; his answer was enough to prompt her to launch off her chair and wrap her arms tightly around his neck. "Oi, oi, watch the injured parts!"

Lily ignored Frank's complaints and planted a kiss on his cheek. She then ventured over to her mountain of parcels, beginning to rip through them as if the pair hadn't just had a major reconciliation. "So when did Dumbledore tell you I was to attend Hogwarts? If it turns out you've known for long, I'll curse you."

"Right, like you know any curses," Frank rolled his eyes.

Lily kept quiet.

"I found out this morning at the Order meeting, along with your band of merry men," Frank explained. "I can't say I didn't see it coming. It makes sense. You must attend school if you stay here—it's socially appropriate for your age and status. This castle is probably the safest place you could be in terms of security, and it gives Dumbledore and your allies a convenient way to keep an eye on you. Most of Hogwarts' professors are also in the Order, so you'll be surrounded by trusted people who will be able to keep you safe."

"I suppose that's a relief. When will I see you? Can you stay at the castle even though you've graduated?"

"No, it's not proper if we are perceived to be dating. I'll be able to see you on weekends and any social occasions outside of the castle," Frank explained, attempting to sound dispassionate about their fake romance. "That doesn't mean we won't keep up a constant correspondence, though. Dumbledore is looking into setting up a Floo connection in your suite in case any of us have to reach you in an emergency, or if you need a quick escape."

"Suite? There isn't a fireplace in my dormitory; besides, I'll be sharing with three or four other girls, won't I?"

"For many reasons, we need you to have your own room. Dumbledore will have one set up near whichever House you are sorted into."

Lily frowned, imagining how her special treatment was going to further ostracize her from the student body.

The headmaster's niece…everyone is probably going to hate me.

"I read in Hogwarts, A History about the sorting ceremony. It doesn't sound like Slytherin is known for producing particularly nice witches and wizards…" Lily mumbled, trying to dispel her nervous energy. "What happens if I end up there?"

"You won't. It would be best if you avoided the students from that House altogether," Frank grew serious, his tone brotherly. "You've met a few Slytherin students already…Narcissa Black among them. You won't be able to avoid her and her nasty friends in your classes, but that can't be helped."

"How do you know we'll be in the same classes?" Lily inquired, remembering the second element to the sorting ceremony: the major designation.

"You've read about the major designation, I take it?" Frank probed, leaning forward in his chair. "After the sorting hat has assigned you a House, it will assign you a scholarly major that will determine what classes you'll be taking. If you fail your major classes, Headmaster Dumbledore assigns you new classes, although you'll graduate without a designation."

"I hope that doesn't happen," Lily gulped.

"It won't, you'll be in the Dance & Arts Major like the rest of the noble witches at Hogwarts. Those classes aren't difficult…dancing, painting, music…there is very little wand work involved," Frank said glibly.

"You're telling me all the females at Hogwarts are in one major?" Lily demanded, wanting to throw the cauldron she had just unwrapped at his highborn head.

"Almost all. The only females in other majors are scholarship students—commoners who are invited to attend Hogwarts alongside nobles based upon their special talents. I think there are only a handful of male and female scholarship students in your year, although there seem to be more and more attending the school each year. It's a program Dumbledore introduced when he became headmaster—he's always got an eye out for exceptional talent."

"What major were you in?" Lily grumbled, unimpressed by the realization that she'd be spending her days dancing and plucking strings instead of learning useful magic.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Frank replied, slightly smug. "It's a more uncommon designation. The only other students in my year with that designation were Sirius and Remus."

"What about James?" Lily questioned eagerly.

Frank grimaced. "Transfiguration. He was the only student in his year with that designation. It's rarer; usually there is only one Transfiguration student every three or four years."

Lily swelled with pride; it was just another thing that made James special. She had read in Hogwarts, A History that blood relations usually ended up in the same House and with the same Major, making her speculate what her own family's legacy at the school had been. "Frank, do you know what my father's major designation was?"

Frank felt a twinge of guilt, realizing Lily had yet to see the portraits of her parents hanging in Dumbledore's office. As badly as he wanted to tell her about them, he knew to keep the headmaster's secret. He hoped for her sake everything would be revealed in time.

Lily rested on the edge of the padded window seat in her dormitory room, lost in thought as the sun began to disappear behind the outline of the Forbidden Forest. The warmth of summer no longer clung to her the way it did when she first arrived, making her skin feel damp even when it was dark. Autumn was fast approaching and intent on stamping out the hottest season with its cold thumb, a chill already curling in the air.

After Frank had left, Mimi had helped her unwrap and organize all of her Hogwarts supplies, including an elaborate set of crystal phials, gold-plated scales, an oddly-shaped telescope, seven sets of black school robes and a heavy winter cloak trimmed in fox fur. Only the best for the niece of Lord Dumbledore, Frank had reminded her.

No books had yet been purchased, as her major was still unknown.

Lily sighed and walked over to one of her trunks—in search of an afghan to cover her shoulders—when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She barely recognized herself anymore; blue eyes, wavy brown hair, designer clothing…a far cry from the tattered St. Madeline's schoolgirl she has once been. That her clothing was fine and her hair and makeup always perfect—thanks to the talents of her house-elf—was not what troubled her: it was the fact that she wasn't even sure who she was anymore.

Lily knew that taking her disguise one step further by attending Hogwarts was going to be a challenge. Instead of spending weeks preparing for one ball or a weekend outing, Frank beside her, feverishly whispering instructions in her ear, she'd have to spend every moment of every day pretending to be someone she wasn't. Lord Dumbledore's niece, Lord Longbottom's girlfriend, an accomplished witch, a society darling. She'd have to dedicate the majority of her time to study in order to keep up with her classes, consistently act refined and snobbish to pass as a seasoned society witch, and—above all—keep her feelings for James under wraps.

It was a worrisome undertaking. Fitting in had never come easy to her. At St. Madeline's she had been a social pariah…why would Hogwarts be any different? Just because she was associated with Dumbledore didn't make her likeable. If anything, the students were probably going to avoid her like the plague. Who would want to befriend a close relation of the headmaster? She certainly wouldn't.

The distinct hooting of an owl broke Lily's concentration on her blurred image. She turned: perched on her window sill was an odd little creature with scorching-red feathers and golden eyes, his head rotated at an odd, inquiring angle. She stared at the bird, unmoving, until it started to hop up and down impatiently, a little bell around its talons chiming tranquilly. It was then that Lily noticed the parchment clutched in its grips.

"Well aren't you a little fireball?" Lily fussed, trying to work the parchment from the owl's grip. "Promise not to peck my eyes out?"

The owl ruffled its feathers, aloof, before spreading its wings and flying over to Lily's vanity, stomping on her bottles of perfume and tubes of lipstick.

"I though you lot usually flew off once you'd delivered your letters," Lily questioned crossly, ripping open the wax seal of her letter and plopping down on her plush bed.

To the lady of the tower,

You're probably wondering why the owl that delivered this letter has made his home in your dormitory—well, that's because he's yours now. I've found the barn owls in the Hogwarts Owlery to be a bit dim-witted, so I thought you ought to have your own. As we can't always be together, letters will help fill the gaps.

He's a cinnabar hawk owl. I wanted a red one for you, because red suits you. He'll need a good name. He's as feisty as you, if that's possible.

Lily looked up from her letter at the owl, suddenly feeling much fonder of him. Before, she hadn't observed how the tips of his wings looked like they'd been dipped in molten gold, with a matching ribbon tied around his neck. Red suits you.

Think of him as a token of my affection, as well as a congratulatory gift. It excites me to think you'll be sitting in the same classrooms, eating the same food, and teasing the same caretaker as I did when I was at Hogwarts. It may seem daunting now, but you'll look back on your year at Hogwarts as the best of your life.

Remember, I will always be here to support you. It'll take more than a few stern warnings from Dumbledore to keep me at bay. You also have quite a few people (does Sirius count as a person?) in your life who are watching out for you.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's all going to work out. I promise.

I love you,

-J

PS – Did you really think I'd leave it there? Meet me on the Quidditch pitch in ten minutes. Someone has to teach you how the game works, or you'll never fit in at Hogwarts (or anywhere for that matter).

Lily jumped out of bed and pried open one of her trunks, pulling on a double-breasted coat and cramming her bare feet into a pair of black Mary Jane's. She skittered down the steps into the common room and past the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was well into her second glass of dry sherry for the evening.

After nearly tripping over Mrs. Norris and shaking off Nearly-Headless Nick, Lily was back on the grounds, sneaking about the same way she had that very morning. Though she knew the location of the Quidditch pitch, its strange, conspicuous hoops proving an eyesore against the castle's highland backdrop, she had never ventured past the walls of the sporting enclosure, usually too engrossed in a book to bother.

Once she had maneuvered down the slippery slope toward the pitch, which was neatly nestled between the hills on the north side of the castle grounds, she hurriedly entered the mammoth arena, eager to find James.

The Quidditch pitch was oval in shape, almost five hundred feet long and two hundred feet wide. Looming above the grassy field were towering observation steeples where spectators eagerly watched games unfold, each pillar dressed in rich House colours, while at opposite ends of the pitch were clusters of tall goal posts. Lily quirked a smile: the hoops reminded her of the plastic apparatuses children jammed into bottles of dish soap to blow bubbles.

Her skyward attention returning to the field, she spotted James in the middle of the arena, flying in small circles around the same patch of grass, straddling the handle of a broomstick.

Lily watched him zip about effortlessly—completely in control of his airborne instrument—amused he was unaware she had arrived. He was wearing what appeared to be a Gryffindor cardigan and beige riding pants, as well as a pair of cohiba-coloured gloves and boots made of fine leather. Hair tousled and muscles flexed, he looked ever the sportsman.

And not to mention ridiculously sexy…

"Did you invite me out here to show off your skills with a sweeper, Lord Potter?" Lily called out, wandering toward the middle of the pitch. "I must say, I expected more showmanship from a man of your calibre."

James' head bowed in her direction, a grin spreading over his stubbled face. As his broom began to float in her direction, he positioned his feet under his torso, balancing them on the wooden shaft and standing upright—a graceful move that made Lily raise an impressed eyebrow.

"You want showmanship, my lady? Climb up here with me and I'll show you a trick or two," he beckoned, extending a hand toward her.

"I think I'll leave the broom flying to you, Lord Potter," Lily hesitantly replied.

"Stubborn girl…don't you trust me?" James cooed, grinning ear-to-ear. "Just a little ride to celebrate your school news. Do you really want to explain to your fellow classmates that you've never been on a broom before? Very suspicious indeed…"

"I don't know," she maintained, her lover's perma-grin making her tense.

"Look, I'll take you for a nice, slow fly around the pitch. How does that sound?" James persisted, melting her resolve.

"Fine…if you promise not to drop me," Lily relented, allowing James to help her onto the broom; he wrapped one protective arm around her upper body, holding the broomstick with his other.

"What if I promised to never let you go?" James whispered in her ear, his lips brushing against her hair.

"Then I'd probably let you take me anywhere," she murmured, easing into James' arms as they flew laps around the Quidditch pitch, the grass below grazing the bottoms of their feet.

James gradually ascended higher and higher, testing Lily's fear of heights. She was surprised by how much she enjoyed the sensation of flying, her thrill far outweighing her distrust of the flimsy wooden vehicle.

Scottish countryside came into view as James flew above the lip of the Quidditch arena. Lily placed a hand over James', the splendor of the moment captivating her. It was hard to believe what her life had become – that she was in a different country, about to start at a different school, with a man she loved and a magical world at her disposal. Despite her fear of what lay ahead, she was glad to be at Hogwarts with James where she really belonged.

James inclined toward the Black Lake, touching ground at the base of the willow tree Lily had spent many mornings beneath with a book. They disembarked the broom, settling in a mossy patch of lawn, the sun disappearing behind the outline of the water.

"It's quite beautiful here, isn't it?" Lily mused, the willow tree's frothy sprigs swishing as the wind picked up.

"I spent seven years of my life here," James trailed off, his gaze softening as he reached out for Lily's hand. "I didn't have a care in the world back then…I'm sorry the circumstances are different for you."

"I was always meant to end up here, wasn't I?" Lily whispered, squeezing James' hand reassuringly. "And despite how different my life turned out, I made it – I found my way. We made it."

A handsome smile crossed James' face. "I'll be glad when this ruse with Longbottom is over - when we can be together out in the open. There are so many places I want to take you; the magical sand dunes in Morocco, the pixie forests in France…"

"That sounds amazing. I'm still reeling from the fact that I just flew for the first time," Lily laughed, resting her head on James' shoulder. "Roxanne would never believe me if I told her."

"You must miss her."

"I do…I hope I see her again one day," Lily said sadly, closing her eyes. "The fear of starting at a new school would certainly be lessened if she were here."

"You'll have me," James reminded her, playing with a strand of her hair. "You didn't think I'd abandon you to face all of this on your own, did you?"

"What do you mean? You won't be attending with me and we can't be seen together," Lily sighed, looking up into his light eyes. "How can you help?"

"You'll find out soon enough," James said, grinning as he threw an arm around her, holding Lily close as darkness poured across the grounds. "I promise this will be a year you'll never forget."

Author's Notes

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