I would like to thank Tifa Gainsborough, who is the one and only person who has reviewed both chapters. So all you readers out there who haven't reviewed, you ought to thank her, because otherwise this story would no longer exist. (Sorry, but I am feeling slightly depressed right now because of the pathetic number of reviews that I have received--only 3.)
Escaping her Destiny: Chapter 3
It was wonderful to snuggle down beneath the covers in her magnificent, canopied bed. Lily had never had a bed like this, and she was starting to feel sorry for people who had to go through life without one. Perhaps there was some sort of charm around it; once Lily had tucked herself in, it was impossible to resist the wave of drowsiness that swept over her. Of course, that could be a result of last night's restless sleep. But whatever the reason, Lily was happy to be able to sleep; sheep were becoming rather dull.
But though her sleep began so peacefully, once Lily had drifted off into the word of dreams, something went terribly wrong. She was having the same nightmare as the previous night. But this time, the faces were no longer in the shadows. There was the sleeping baby. Despite the fact that he looked to be only one year old, he had a mane of hair that any man could be proud of, at least as far as quantity went. It was a dark brown, so dark that it could be mistaken for black, and it flung itself out in every direction imaginable. Although the baby's face looked so innocent, the hair made him seem rather wild. The infant's eyes were shut tightly, but Lily somehow knew that his eyes had to be green, an emerald green identical to her own.
The lady was screaming, a scream which seemed vaguely familiar. If her face hadn't been so distorted with horror, she would have been quite pretty. She had red hair and brilliant green eyes, eyes that Lily saw daily in the mirror. In her dream, Lily gasped as she recognized the face as her own. 'It can't be me, it can't!' she thought. 'I'm not going to die so young!' She swiftly averted her eyes from the lady who just couldn't be her, and turned instead to the man. He was fighting now, shooting random spells at the other, bravely but with fear undisguised on his face. His hair was like the baby's, dark and untamed. His eyes were dark too. In her dream, Lily could not recognize the man. Where had she seen a face like that before?
The man was dead. He had fallen on the floor, his eyes already clouded over and vacant. The creature was now advancing on the baby, and the lady was sobbing noisily in the corner. Lily could still see his face clearly from the other night, red eyes and deathly pale. The baby was dead.
Once again Lily woke up, frightened and breathing heavily. The lady had been her, she knew. But the dream couldn't have meant anything, it was just one of those nightmares, the same kind of one as she had dreamt for years where she had gone to school naked, or in her old pink nightgown with her beloved blanky, and that had never happened, this dream didn't mean anything, it couldn't . . . But unbidden, the Sorting Hat's words appeared in her mind. "A Divinator . . . one of those people who read the future . . . it should become noticeable about now, in your dreams perhaps." So that dream probably did tell the future after all, Lily thought dully. It was settled; she was going to die before she reached 25. And so was the baby, and that man . . . That man . . . Lily was sure that she had seen hair like that before, a face like that before. He was familiar . . . she should know him. Who was he? Half asleep, she couldn't recall his face.
Her mind drifted to the day at school, the weird connection she felt with James. 'Maybe that has something to do with me being a Divinator,' she thought. James . . . now he had weird hair too. 'Why does everyone I meet or dream of suddenly seem to have crazy hair,' she wondered, slightly irritated. But suddenly it clicked. James was the unknown man, the man she was with at the time of her death. In fact, he was probably her husband. And the baby was their son. She had thought that it might have been him the day before, but now she was certain.
Lily rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It couldn't be past midnight; she hadn't been asleep very long. As soon she concentrated on sleep, the bed once again worked its magic. In less than a minute, she was snoring gently, overtaken by a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Lily awoke to the sounds of the other girls in her year hustling to get ready. She knew she should get up so that she wouldn't be late to class. She needed to go to breakfast; as her mother constantly reminded her, she was a growing girl, and she needed her nourishment if she was going to function properly. But at breakfast she would inevitably see James. Lily winced. How would she act around him, her future husband? It would be painful to see him, to remember him writhing on the floor in pain as he had in her dream. How would she be able to talk to him when her head was constantly filled with these terrifying images?
Reluctantly, Lily pulled the covers off of her and stood up to get dressed. The room was empty except for one girl, who entirely enveloped in her black school robes. A minute later, a head poked out amid the shapeless black cloth. It was the girl who had sat next to Lily the night before. "Hi," she said shyly. There were three other Gryffindor girls in their year, but they had seemed to be in a world of their own, giggling to eachother and entirely disregarding Lily and this girl.
"Hi," Lily replied, taking out her own robes from her suitcase. "You're Joyce McKinnon, right?"
"Yes," the girl grinned. "And you are Lily Evans."
"Do you know what time we need to be at breakfast by?" Lily questioned.
"No, but I'm sure it will be over soon. Come on, hurry up!"
"Okay, I'm ready." The two girls practically ran down the stairs. They stopped when they saw the crowd in the common room. At the center of it was a girl who appeared to be in her fourth year, who was addressing the group that flocked around her in a misty, far off voice. Lily could hardly hear her because of the noise of the crowd, but she did manage to catch a couple of words.
"I can see that soon, one among us shall die, leaving the rest behind to mourn . . . "
A boy up front yelled at her. "Hey Sybil, how do we know that you are a Divinator? Come on, admit it, that's just a load of crap that you made up." He and his friends sniggered, and the crowd fell silent.
"I do too know that I am a Divinator!" the girl snapped, in a much more mundane tone of voice. "If you don't believe me, go look in that book over there! I have all the signs . . . I have been having many strange dreams lately," she said, with her voice lapsing into its former dreaminess. "Truth to tell, Mundungus, I have seen that you are up against some very hard times." She sighed deeply. Mundungus snorted.
Out in the crowd, Lily's ears had perked up the instant that she had heard of the book. "There's a book about Divination?" she hissed at Joyce.
"Sounds like it," Joyce whispered back. "Why?"
But Lily was no longer listening. Instead, she was creeping slowly towards the table which held the precious book. Maybe, just maybe, this book could tell her something about herself, about her dreams and this strange bond with James. She could see it; it was within her reach, a silver title gleaming against a deep red backround. "Prophets of the Future: All about Divination." It sounded perfect. Quickly, Lily reached out her hand and snatched at the book. The crowd was receding; no one had noticed her. She would not steal the book--when she was done with it, she could return it to the table. Clasping the book tightly in her arms, she made her way to the spot where Joyce was waiting for her.
"Where did you go?" Joyce asked her curiously.
She showed Joyce the book. Her friend's eyes widened. "I didn't know you were interested in that sort of stuff," she said. Lily could detect a disdainful note to her voice.
"Well, I am! Wait here for me, I'll be back in a moment." She hurried up the stairs to the girls dormitory, and was back down in a minute. "Come on, let's go to breakfast."
The day passed more or less uneventfully. Lily managed to avoid James. In every class, she sat as far away from him as possible. She was able to find her classes without too much trouble; Joyce had an older brother, Michael, who had given her the directions to the castle. As long as Lily followed her, she got to her classes on time. Lily found that she was fascinated by Charms, slightly disgusted by some of the ingredients used in Potions, and that she absolutely detested Transfiguration. But when she looked back on that day, the main thing that would stand out was the waiting. She wanted to get to that book. It was laying up there in her room untouched, calling to her silently. She couldn't stand the waiting. It was worst in History of Magic, knowing that she had to sit there and listen to the old man droning on for what seemed like hours, when she could be reading up on Divination.
Finally, dinner was over, and the students were given the rest of the day to do what they wanted. Lily sprinted up to her bed, and drew the book out from under her pillow. The silver title flashed in the light. Slowly, she opened the book.
'Chapter One: What is a Divinator?'
'A Divinator is a person who can predict the future. Their prophecies can come in many different forms, the most common of which are vivid dreams and trances. (To learn more, go to Chapter Five: Dreams and Trances.) However, the Divinator's powers often extend beyond the ability to know a person's fate. Many can sense peculiarly strong emotions that radiate from another person, particularly if that person's destiny is linked to their destiny. They cannot read the other's mind, but they may feel a bond connecting them to that person.' At that, Lily gasped almost inaudibly; the situation applied perfectly to her own circumstances.
'Although a Divinator can foresee the future, their is nothing that they can do to change it. It is not unusual for a Divinator to feel guilty when they fail to improve the future. In some cases, the Divinator is driven mad because of a feeling of guilt. As a matter of fact, statistics show that St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries holds more Divinators than any other area of the magical world.'
Lily stopped there. The book had explained everything that she needed to know. She did not want to find out about dreams and trances, since the knowledge would do her no good. She slipped quietly down to the Common Room; the room was filled with groups of students. Girls crowded around the fire, whispering and giggling, while a group of boys were involved in a rather noisy game of Exploding Snap. She spotted Joyce in a far corner, absorbed in a book. Lily glanced nervously around the room; James was not there. Good. No one looked up as she entered. She moved towards the table where she had found the book, and left it there, as if it had never been taken.
Lily stole back up to her bed, and drew the curtains around her. As much as she liked Joyce, at the moment, she wanted to be alone. She needed to think. According to the book, James must have had tremendously strong feelings for her. It didn't seem as if he hated her. On the other hand, she doubted that he was madly in love with her. But their fates were joined; from her dreams, it looked as though they would one day be married. So she was more inclined to think that he strongly liked her than that he hated her with a passion. Lily blushed slightly in the darkness.
It was because of James that she was going to die young. If she didn't marry him, then she would probably live to a ripe old age. What is more, without her, James would probably live to be a grandfather, instead of being murdered before his son could talk. But the book had said that there was no way to change the future. "Books don't know everything," Lily whispered to herself. It was a saying that her mom had. Lily was prone to quote books when in an argument, and that was her mother's comeback every time. Lily would never have expected it to come to her rescue, but now it was music to her ears. There might still be an escape.
'From now on,' Lily resolved, 'I won't talk to James, I won't come near him. I will, I must try to avoid him at all costs. I can't let myself fall for him. Even if the chance is only one in a million that this might work, that I can alter my fate, it is a chance I have to take. This could save both of our lives. Please God, please let it work!'
Escaping her Destiny: Chapter 3
It was wonderful to snuggle down beneath the covers in her magnificent, canopied bed. Lily had never had a bed like this, and she was starting to feel sorry for people who had to go through life without one. Perhaps there was some sort of charm around it; once Lily had tucked herself in, it was impossible to resist the wave of drowsiness that swept over her. Of course, that could be a result of last night's restless sleep. But whatever the reason, Lily was happy to be able to sleep; sheep were becoming rather dull.
But though her sleep began so peacefully, once Lily had drifted off into the word of dreams, something went terribly wrong. She was having the same nightmare as the previous night. But this time, the faces were no longer in the shadows. There was the sleeping baby. Despite the fact that he looked to be only one year old, he had a mane of hair that any man could be proud of, at least as far as quantity went. It was a dark brown, so dark that it could be mistaken for black, and it flung itself out in every direction imaginable. Although the baby's face looked so innocent, the hair made him seem rather wild. The infant's eyes were shut tightly, but Lily somehow knew that his eyes had to be green, an emerald green identical to her own.
The lady was screaming, a scream which seemed vaguely familiar. If her face hadn't been so distorted with horror, she would have been quite pretty. She had red hair and brilliant green eyes, eyes that Lily saw daily in the mirror. In her dream, Lily gasped as she recognized the face as her own. 'It can't be me, it can't!' she thought. 'I'm not going to die so young!' She swiftly averted her eyes from the lady who just couldn't be her, and turned instead to the man. He was fighting now, shooting random spells at the other, bravely but with fear undisguised on his face. His hair was like the baby's, dark and untamed. His eyes were dark too. In her dream, Lily could not recognize the man. Where had she seen a face like that before?
The man was dead. He had fallen on the floor, his eyes already clouded over and vacant. The creature was now advancing on the baby, and the lady was sobbing noisily in the corner. Lily could still see his face clearly from the other night, red eyes and deathly pale. The baby was dead.
Once again Lily woke up, frightened and breathing heavily. The lady had been her, she knew. But the dream couldn't have meant anything, it was just one of those nightmares, the same kind of one as she had dreamt for years where she had gone to school naked, or in her old pink nightgown with her beloved blanky, and that had never happened, this dream didn't mean anything, it couldn't . . . But unbidden, the Sorting Hat's words appeared in her mind. "A Divinator . . . one of those people who read the future . . . it should become noticeable about now, in your dreams perhaps." So that dream probably did tell the future after all, Lily thought dully. It was settled; she was going to die before she reached 25. And so was the baby, and that man . . . That man . . . Lily was sure that she had seen hair like that before, a face like that before. He was familiar . . . she should know him. Who was he? Half asleep, she couldn't recall his face.
Her mind drifted to the day at school, the weird connection she felt with James. 'Maybe that has something to do with me being a Divinator,' she thought. James . . . now he had weird hair too. 'Why does everyone I meet or dream of suddenly seem to have crazy hair,' she wondered, slightly irritated. But suddenly it clicked. James was the unknown man, the man she was with at the time of her death. In fact, he was probably her husband. And the baby was their son. She had thought that it might have been him the day before, but now she was certain.
Lily rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It couldn't be past midnight; she hadn't been asleep very long. As soon she concentrated on sleep, the bed once again worked its magic. In less than a minute, she was snoring gently, overtaken by a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Lily awoke to the sounds of the other girls in her year hustling to get ready. She knew she should get up so that she wouldn't be late to class. She needed to go to breakfast; as her mother constantly reminded her, she was a growing girl, and she needed her nourishment if she was going to function properly. But at breakfast she would inevitably see James. Lily winced. How would she act around him, her future husband? It would be painful to see him, to remember him writhing on the floor in pain as he had in her dream. How would she be able to talk to him when her head was constantly filled with these terrifying images?
Reluctantly, Lily pulled the covers off of her and stood up to get dressed. The room was empty except for one girl, who entirely enveloped in her black school robes. A minute later, a head poked out amid the shapeless black cloth. It was the girl who had sat next to Lily the night before. "Hi," she said shyly. There were three other Gryffindor girls in their year, but they had seemed to be in a world of their own, giggling to eachother and entirely disregarding Lily and this girl.
"Hi," Lily replied, taking out her own robes from her suitcase. "You're Joyce McKinnon, right?"
"Yes," the girl grinned. "And you are Lily Evans."
"Do you know what time we need to be at breakfast by?" Lily questioned.
"No, but I'm sure it will be over soon. Come on, hurry up!"
"Okay, I'm ready." The two girls practically ran down the stairs. They stopped when they saw the crowd in the common room. At the center of it was a girl who appeared to be in her fourth year, who was addressing the group that flocked around her in a misty, far off voice. Lily could hardly hear her because of the noise of the crowd, but she did manage to catch a couple of words.
"I can see that soon, one among us shall die, leaving the rest behind to mourn . . . "
A boy up front yelled at her. "Hey Sybil, how do we know that you are a Divinator? Come on, admit it, that's just a load of crap that you made up." He and his friends sniggered, and the crowd fell silent.
"I do too know that I am a Divinator!" the girl snapped, in a much more mundane tone of voice. "If you don't believe me, go look in that book over there! I have all the signs . . . I have been having many strange dreams lately," she said, with her voice lapsing into its former dreaminess. "Truth to tell, Mundungus, I have seen that you are up against some very hard times." She sighed deeply. Mundungus snorted.
Out in the crowd, Lily's ears had perked up the instant that she had heard of the book. "There's a book about Divination?" she hissed at Joyce.
"Sounds like it," Joyce whispered back. "Why?"
But Lily was no longer listening. Instead, she was creeping slowly towards the table which held the precious book. Maybe, just maybe, this book could tell her something about herself, about her dreams and this strange bond with James. She could see it; it was within her reach, a silver title gleaming against a deep red backround. "Prophets of the Future: All about Divination." It sounded perfect. Quickly, Lily reached out her hand and snatched at the book. The crowd was receding; no one had noticed her. She would not steal the book--when she was done with it, she could return it to the table. Clasping the book tightly in her arms, she made her way to the spot where Joyce was waiting for her.
"Where did you go?" Joyce asked her curiously.
She showed Joyce the book. Her friend's eyes widened. "I didn't know you were interested in that sort of stuff," she said. Lily could detect a disdainful note to her voice.
"Well, I am! Wait here for me, I'll be back in a moment." She hurried up the stairs to the girls dormitory, and was back down in a minute. "Come on, let's go to breakfast."
The day passed more or less uneventfully. Lily managed to avoid James. In every class, she sat as far away from him as possible. She was able to find her classes without too much trouble; Joyce had an older brother, Michael, who had given her the directions to the castle. As long as Lily followed her, she got to her classes on time. Lily found that she was fascinated by Charms, slightly disgusted by some of the ingredients used in Potions, and that she absolutely detested Transfiguration. But when she looked back on that day, the main thing that would stand out was the waiting. She wanted to get to that book. It was laying up there in her room untouched, calling to her silently. She couldn't stand the waiting. It was worst in History of Magic, knowing that she had to sit there and listen to the old man droning on for what seemed like hours, when she could be reading up on Divination.
Finally, dinner was over, and the students were given the rest of the day to do what they wanted. Lily sprinted up to her bed, and drew the book out from under her pillow. The silver title flashed in the light. Slowly, she opened the book.
'Chapter One: What is a Divinator?'
'A Divinator is a person who can predict the future. Their prophecies can come in many different forms, the most common of which are vivid dreams and trances. (To learn more, go to Chapter Five: Dreams and Trances.) However, the Divinator's powers often extend beyond the ability to know a person's fate. Many can sense peculiarly strong emotions that radiate from another person, particularly if that person's destiny is linked to their destiny. They cannot read the other's mind, but they may feel a bond connecting them to that person.' At that, Lily gasped almost inaudibly; the situation applied perfectly to her own circumstances.
'Although a Divinator can foresee the future, their is nothing that they can do to change it. It is not unusual for a Divinator to feel guilty when they fail to improve the future. In some cases, the Divinator is driven mad because of a feeling of guilt. As a matter of fact, statistics show that St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries holds more Divinators than any other area of the magical world.'
Lily stopped there. The book had explained everything that she needed to know. She did not want to find out about dreams and trances, since the knowledge would do her no good. She slipped quietly down to the Common Room; the room was filled with groups of students. Girls crowded around the fire, whispering and giggling, while a group of boys were involved in a rather noisy game of Exploding Snap. She spotted Joyce in a far corner, absorbed in a book. Lily glanced nervously around the room; James was not there. Good. No one looked up as she entered. She moved towards the table where she had found the book, and left it there, as if it had never been taken.
Lily stole back up to her bed, and drew the curtains around her. As much as she liked Joyce, at the moment, she wanted to be alone. She needed to think. According to the book, James must have had tremendously strong feelings for her. It didn't seem as if he hated her. On the other hand, she doubted that he was madly in love with her. But their fates were joined; from her dreams, it looked as though they would one day be married. So she was more inclined to think that he strongly liked her than that he hated her with a passion. Lily blushed slightly in the darkness.
It was because of James that she was going to die young. If she didn't marry him, then she would probably live to a ripe old age. What is more, without her, James would probably live to be a grandfather, instead of being murdered before his son could talk. But the book had said that there was no way to change the future. "Books don't know everything," Lily whispered to herself. It was a saying that her mom had. Lily was prone to quote books when in an argument, and that was her mother's comeback every time. Lily would never have expected it to come to her rescue, but now it was music to her ears. There might still be an escape.
'From now on,' Lily resolved, 'I won't talk to James, I won't come near him. I will, I must try to avoid him at all costs. I can't let myself fall for him. Even if the chance is only one in a million that this might work, that I can alter my fate, it is a chance I have to take. This could save both of our lives. Please God, please let it work!'