Previously in the Darklyverse: Alice and Frank started dating. Mary planned her wedding. Lily ran for Minister of Magic.
xx
April 21st, 1979: Alice Abbott
Even though it's April, the day of Mary's wedding is blustery and cold, little flakes of snow scattering across the grounds intermittently. It's an outdoor ceremony, so Alice wraps her robes tightly around herself as she takes the seat that Frank saved for her.
She slept with him the night before, and she can't decide how she feels about it. It's not that she's not happy—it was good, and it makes her feel closer to Frank, and she knows he's not going to trash her reputation or abandon her now that he's gotten some. But even though it's something new that's been added to her life, Alice can't shake an odd, lonely feeling of loss. Is that normal? It's just—she went her whole life being told that sex was for people who weren't her, because she was too young and because she was unmarried, and to suddenly belong to that world she was never supposed to makes her feel like she's violated some deep ethical principle, even if one of the two main reasons not to do it doesn't apply anymore.
Still, Alice is not exactly going to run and tell—her parents, for example, who approve more of Frank than they ever did of Dirk because of both men's blood statuses, but still probably don't want Alice to be having sex out of wedlock. She knows her friends would be accepting, but she doesn't know if she wants to talk to them about it, either. Talking about it means making it real, and part of Alice wants to pretend like it never happens until she can almost believe it.
But that wouldn't be fair to Frank, she tells herself as she smiles at him and takes the hand he offers her. He never pushed her into anything, did everything he could to make it good for her, and seemed to genuinely just want to show her that he loves her, and what more than that is Alice supposed to ask for?
Today is Mary's day, though, and Alice's eyes snap to the small aisle they've created between two blocks of chairs when Frank walks down it and stands up at the front by Davy Gudgeon, who is officiating. (Since wizards technically don't exist according to Muggle censuses, there's no need for a registered minister to marry the couple, and wizarding couples usually select a close friend to do the honors.) It's maybe a little weird that one of Mary's ex-boyfriends is officiating her wedding to somebody else, but in all fairness, that was a long time ago, and Alice knows that Gudgeon has remained friends with Mary and always been close to Cattermole.
Next come Gilderoy Lockhart and Veronica Smethley, the best man and maid of honor, walking with interlocked arms up to join Cattermole and Gudgeon at the front. Alice looks over at Marlene, who's sitting a few seats down from her and Frank; her jaw is set, and her eyes look steely.
And then—the music changes, and Mary starts walking up the aisle with her mother on her arm. She doesn't look as happy as you would expect for her wedding day, and Alice wonders for a fleeting moment if this life—marrying Cattermole, spending all her time with the likes of Veronica Smethley—is really what Mary wants.
Mrs. Macdonald kisses Mary on the cheek and then sits down in the front row. She looks awfully out of place in her Muggle dress, surrounded on all sides by wizards wearing pointed hats and dress robes, but she looks pleased, too.
The whole ceremony only takes about five minutes to complete. Then Cattermole kisses Mary quickly on the mouth, and Mary tosses her bouquet. Marlene catches it, but she doesn't look happy about this, and Alice can't blame her: the bloke she's still in love with is seeing somebody else, and it's not like she's got anybody else lined up to marry anytime soon.
Mary and Cattermole hold the reception in the same community center where they had their wedding shower, close by to their flat in Scotland. Unlike at the shower, no Patronus arrives today to whisk the members of the Order away for secret business. Alice digs into her dinner, dances with Frank, fights her way over to Mary and Cattermole to congratulate them.
After the reception, Frank seems like he's angling to get invited back to Alice's place again like last night, but she kisses him goodnight and Disapparates before they can have that conversation. "Are we going to talk about Frank spending the night here last night?" James says with a grin when they and Remus are all back in their living room, but Alice shakes her head and scurries off into her bedroom.
xx
This town hall is the latest in a series of events that Lily and Mary have geared toward purebloods sympathetic to Lucius Malfoy. They're on the first floor of the Ministry of Magic, gathered near the Fountain of Magical Brethren, surrounded by press and wizards with skeptical lips and eyebrows. "I appreciate you all taking time out of your evening to come chat with me," Lily says, clasping her hands together. "Can I get a show of hands to tell me how many witches and wizards in our audience today are Muggle-born?" A few hands go up. "How about purebloods?" More than half the audience raise their hands.
"Great," Lily continues. "As you all must know by now, my name is Lily Evans, and I too am Muggle-born. My parents passed away when I was sixteen in a roadway accident, so they haven't joined us here today, but I grew up with them, surrounded by Muggle people and things. My parents taught me the value of having the courage to speak up for what's right and to advocate for myself. My cousins—all Muggles, too—taught me to be loyal and kind and always give people a chance. And my campaign manager, who is Muggle-born like me—can you give us a wave, Mary?"
Mary, who's sitting close to the front beside James, raises her hand in a quick salute, looking embarrassed.
"My campaign manager, Mary Cattermole, a friend of mine for the past several years, taught me to never stop reinventing yourself or pushing yourself to be stronger than you were before. Do any of those values sound similar to those of you who grew up in wizarding households?"
There's an outbreak of muttering, but a lot of people are nodding, too. "She's a good speaker, I'll give her that," Alice's dad says in an undertone. Alice already knows she's voting for Lily, but she turned up to this town hall mostly so that she could bring along her parents, who both up to this point have been planning on voting for Malfoy. Just give her a chance, she told them. She might surprise you. Frank is here, too, sitting on Alice's other side.
"The truth is, witches and wizards from wizarding backgrounds have a lot more in common with Muggles and Muggle-borns than you may realize. What's not the same is the way that wizarding society treats anyone from Muggle backgrounds compared to purebloods or even half-bloods. If you've ever seen your Muggle-born neighbor passed over for a promotion just because of their blood status, or your pureblood friend encourage their children to marry into another wizarding family to keep the genetic line pure—if you've written me out of the running for Minister of Magic because of my heritage—you may not realize it, but all of these small, subtle actions add up to create a culture where Muggles and Muggle-borns are valued less. And when Muggles and Muggle-borns are valued less, who's to stop there? Who's to say that the next step isn't Muggle-borns deserving to die at the hands of this war more than other wizards?
"Something I've heard frequently at these town halls is, why should we worry about protecting Muggle-borns when my quality of life as a pureblood is under attack? But I want to set the record straight. There is not a single Muggle-born wizard out there who wants to attack pureblood wizards. Our society is constructed in such a way that purebloods have been more privileged than Muggle-borns for hundreds of years, and all that I'm asking for as a Muggle-born witch is a seat at the table for witches and wizards like me. That's it. Just to be treated equally. Not to overtake purebloods or overthrow the whole structure of our society, but to revolutionize it so that it treats all witches and wizards equitably. After all, if you're so afraid of what will happen to purebloods if they begin to be treated like Muggle-borns already are treated, challenge yourself: what does that say about how fairly we treat Muggle-borns in our society today?
"With that, I'd like to open the floor to questions and comments. Is there anyone who'd like to come up here and start a conversation?"
The muttering has continued all through Lily's speech, but when she asks for volunteers, the room falls quiet. It makes Alice feel nervous, and she tries to remember what Mary said about this happening at first at every town hall they do. Then, to her surprise, Mum stands up. "I'll go," she says quietly, and then she clears her throat and starts walking up to the chair that Lily indicates.
They both sit down opposite each other on the little raised platform that Lily has charmed here for the evening. "Thanks for coming up, Mrs. Abbott," she tells Mum with a genuine smile. "Full disclosure for my audience," Lily adds, "Mrs. Abbott is the mother of one of my best friends, Alice Abbott, so we already know a little bit about each other. It's great to see you again! How are things going?"
"It's great to see you again, too, Lily. Things are fine. I mean, we're worried about the war, but that's not new for anyone."
"I just want to take a moment to remind you—all of you—that when we call this a 'war,' we're talking about a civil war against an unauthorized and highly organized militia of anonymous fighters who are loyal to a psychopath with an anti-Muggle agenda. This is not a normal war, people."
Mum says, "You talk about the Death Eaters like they're dangerous and bad because they're radicals who aren't backed by a government. But what about the vigilantes you claim to support? Aren't they radicals, too? Shouldn't they be shut down?"
"That's a great question," Lily says. "I want to be clear about something: I am not saying that I support vigilantes indefinitely fighting on the people's behalf against Death Eaters. But I think that we have to look at the abysmal success rate of the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement—we're talking Aurors and Hit Wizards—compared to the success rate of the civilian vigilantes who have, frankly, been doing the Ministry's job for them. I'm not saying to throw away the Ministry—I'm saying that the Ministry needs to learn from its people and make changes, to legitimize the people who have been working on its behalf and thank them, not condemn them, for their service."
"But what about—"
But Alice doesn't get to hear about what her mum wants to ask next, because at that very moment, there's a series of cracks followed by the appearance of a number of hooded figures in masks. "Oh, no. Not here," Lily says from the front.
Pandemonium breaks out everywhere. Witches and wizards are Disapparating; red and green lights are flying everywhere; Alice throws up a Shield Charm, but there are bodies on the ground already, and not all of them are Death Eaters. "Get everyone out of here!" she hears James shout, but she hardly can hear him because Frank points to the back, and Alice follows his eyes, and standing there is…
She's only ever seen sketches of Voldemort before. Seeing him now, she thinks the cartoons didn't do justice at all to how inhuman he looks, with slits for nostrils on his face, supernaturally pale skin, no hair or eyebrows or anything. His mouth is curled into a sneer, and without even thinking, Alice drops the shield, points her wand at him, and bellows, "Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada—"
But only faint wisps of green light come from the end of Alice's wand, and Voldemort just laughs. "You think you can kill me? Me? You silly, silly fool."
She puts the shield back up. Alice is distantly aware of Lily and James both Disapparating with bodies and Apparating back again several times, while Mary is firing beam after beam of red light at the Death Eaters. One of them hits Mary with something—the light isn't green, Alice tells herself, she's got to be okay because the light isn't green—and then Lily grabs Mary by the hand and they're gone again.
Frank is standing behind Alice's shoulder and throws up his own Shield Charm to double the strength of hers. But Voldemort waves a hand, and both shields disintegrate into thin air. "We have to go, Al," says Frank, but Alice doesn't listen.
"Impedimenta! IMPEDIMENTA! Stup—"
She feels Frank's hand close around the forearm of her wand hand, and then everything compresses into blackness.