A/N: I'm reposting this chapter because I thought that it was originally too short for my liking. Review please!
Disclaimer: All characters from the Harry Potter books belong to JK Rowling.
I was glad to be home. Even if Petunia scowled at me every time we bump into each other. Even if Aunt Gretchen didn't remember me at all. Even if all the neighbours gossiped about me behind my back, thanks to Petunia. Even if Mum was so busy juggling between household chores and her job that she hardly spoke to me at all besides a harried 'Good morning' before rushing off to her office. Even if Dad was always away at work and was only home about two days a week. (And even so, he came back only in the wee hours of the morning and collapsed onto the couch in deep slumber)
On second thought, maybe I should have stayed at Hogwarts instead.
It was Christmas morning. I woke up a bit too late with the usual sour taste in my mouth, dry throat and untidy hair. So began the most celebrated holiday of the year…in a silent home, all alone.
After washing myself, I went downstairs, wishing for Christmas presents under the tree, a nice surprise breakfast Mum had prepared for me, Dad chortling over some Christmas comedy while Petunia goggled at her presents. Just like last year.
But there was no Christmas tree. Mum had left for work, leaving a note asking me to prepare my own breakfast. Dad had left again, after last night. Petunia had slept over at her friend's house last night, planning to celebrate Christmas there. No presents. No Christmas.
I sighed and started to make myself a sandwich. I could hear the neighbour's children giggling in delight, as they ripped open package after package of dolls and books. Over at the other house, the radio was on and Jingle Bells was playing.
For the rest of the day, I just spaced out in front of the television. Even the cartoons seemed stale to me. I had a storybook on the couch beside me if I ever felt like reading. But even if I tried, the words became blurs and blotches of black, and my head began to spin.
It was almost dinnertime, and no one was home yet, not even Petunia. And I had a feeling no one would be coming back anytime soon. I was just about to get off my warm spot on the couch and make myself dinner, when an owl swooped in through an open window and dropped a parcel on my lap. I opened it curiously and read the note:
Hi Lil! Zoe here! Merry Christmas and I hope you like your present! I know you haven't given me one (haha…thought I wouldn't find out, eh?) but no hard feelings…we'll settle it later when you come back! Merry Christmas again! Miss ya!
I smiled a little as I unwrapped the small gift. It was a book entitled 'Quidditch, Teams and Tournaments'. My smile widened as I flipped the pages. The book was beautiful! There were big moving photos of Quidditch teams and articles about them. Later on, there were photos taken during World Cups and other major tournaments.
I felt guilty for not getting Zoe a present. I had no idea she would give me one! I had never gone Christmas shopping in my life. I had only received presents, never gave any. I had always taken everything for granted and now that there was nothing, I felt angry and frustrated.
Just then, the door burst open. I jumped up in shock. Mum came in, worry written all over her face. She grabbed my hand, pulled me outside and shoved me into the car. I buckled my seatbelt impulsively, and stared at her. Without a glance at me, she stamped her foot on the acceleration pedal and the car zoomed forward.
"Dad's ill," she said, her eyes not leaving the road. "He's at the hospital now."
"Wha-…is he alright?" I asked anxiously.
"Of course not! He's in a hospital for God's sake!" she snapped.
I flinched a little. It was quiet after that.
We zoomed into the car park and rushed into the big white building. We wove in and out of the nurses and patients on wheelchairs. I had to practically jog to keep up with Mum. My stomach was growling and my legs were aching but I tried to ignore them. The alcohol smell of the hospital was getting on my nerves.
When we finally arrived at a room, I sank against the wall in exhaustion as Mum knocked crisply on the door. Petunia swung it open and we entered. I just stood there and stared.
Dad was on a white hospital bed, a blue blanket covering him up to his neck. His face was lined with exhaustion and was a shade of sick yellow. I stared at the wires connecting him to various beeping machines and the drip. There was a board above his head with his name written on it. Faintly, I could also make out the words 'Dr. Barton' and 'leukaemia'.
"Lily…" a hoarse voice jolted me from my reverie. I licked my lips and slowly walked towards Dad. He was smiling weakly, his lower lip quivering. He held out his trembling palm to me and beckoned me.
"Dad…" I collapsed at his side, and grabbed his hand. It was cold, deadly cold. "You'll be fine, you have to be!"
"I am, don't worry," he grinned half-heartedly at me. "I'll be fine. I-I-I still haven't…given you your…present."
I smiled weakly back at him. His eyes fluttered shut and his hand slipped from my grasp. I was relieved to hear him snore quietly.
After that, a nurse came in and shooed us out, telling us that he needed some rest. Mum wouldn't leave Dad, and that meant that Petunia and I were stranded there too.
We both sat together on a bench facing a window. Snowflakes were falling gently to the ground and the fir trees almost looked alive under the silver moonlight. We were both silent for a while. Petunia, for once, wasn't complaining about sitting next to a freak.
I suddenly remembered reading 'leukaemia' on the board above Dad's head. Absent-mindedly, I wondered aloud, "What's leukaemia?"
Petunia stared at me and said slowly, "Some kind of cancer I think."
"C-c-cancer?" I stood up in shock. Those days, there were few cures for cancer and even so, not all the patients came out alive.
Petunia nodded and whispered harshly, "Sit down, before you do anything rash."
I pointedly ignored her and turned to face the window. I pressed my palms against the cool glass and gazed at a tiny snowflake that had landed on the window.
"Merry Christmas," I muttered bitterly to myself.
The rest of the holiday passed by in a blur of sitting at home doing nothing, cooking rushed dinners for Mum before she rushed off to the hospital, arguing with Petunia and of course, visiting Dad.
He was trying very hard to get well quickly but with each passing day, his face grew a shade paler, and his eyes were losing their emerald green colour and were slowly fading into a dull sea green. It pained me to see him trying so hard to pretend that he was fine, so that we would not be worried. Yet, every line of his face and his weary smile spoke of suffering and exhaustion.
Mum wouldn't tell me anything about Dad's illness. She thought I was too young to know. Petunia, who was very well informed, just scoffed at me whenever I asked her.
"None of your business," she would say haughtily, her sharp nose high in the air.
When the time came for me to leave for Hogwarts, I was almost reluctant to go, unlike the beginning of the holidays. Sure I missed my friends but I would miss my family even more, especially when Dad was sick.
I had decided to get Zoe a Muggle present, because she had always been fascinated by our gadgets and gizmos. However, I couldn't well get her a radio or something so I decided to get her a book instead. I got her an encyclopaedia on 'How Things Work'.
I was right. She was really happy and had slunk off immediately, flipping through the pages in admiration and gasping in delight at the diagrams. I didn't see her for a whole day after that. I heard from May that she was up in the dorm, reading the book in fascination.
As for me, I just wandered around the library, seizing the books that seemed interesting ('Danger: Creatures!', 'Merlin: The Real Story') and skimmed through the book, reading the highlighted passages and sniggering at the moving pictures.
I had come to the farthest corner of the library when I heard soft chuckling and wheezy laughter. I glanced round the shelf curiously. I should have guessed. James and Sirius were leaning against the wall, James clutching a thick book to his chest, gasping for breath as he struggled not to laugh out loud, while Sirius was doubled up in silent laughter.
I suddenly noticed another boy, a short one, curiously staring up at them, his beady eyes showing absolute confusion. I remembered him. He was Peter Pettigrew, forever in trouble because he always forgot his textbooks or his homework. He also happened to be a constant victim of Snape's bullying.
James and Sirius were always standing up for him, even though they too had their share of teasing him. Lately, Peter had taken to following them around like a puppy dog. James and Sirius usually ignored him unless Snape began to terrorise him.
"Did you see…Snape's…?" Sirius tried to say between his gasps of laughter.
James was overcome with a fresh wave of laughter. A wide grin appeared on Peter's face.
"He was starting…to grow…antlers…" Sirius continued, shaking with laughter. "I…swear!"
Suddenly, James caught me staring at them. He gave a small smile and nudged Sirius. As soon as he saw me, he stopped laughing instantaneously. They quickly slunk off, without so much as a backwards glance at me, Peter tailing them.
I was left wondering if I had suddenly grown horns or something.
A/N: James and Sirius were shy! All pre-teens don't mix with the opposite gender when they are 11…12 years old! It's true! *Author bounces up and down excitedly. * Anyway, review!! By the way, I know the first part is clichéd; you don't have to tell me. But I live for these cliché thingies! =) Flames are highly discouraged, unless there is a very good reason to do so. =)
