Hypocrites Always Fall in Love
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this (except most of the plot, and the characters you don't recognize). It all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Three- The First Step to Getting Rid of Petunia
"Exactly how are we going to get in there, Sherlock?" Sirius asked, looking at the house that had practically been his second home since he figured out how to walk there. Which was a long time seeing as it was only three houses down from his own home.
James and Sirius were standing in front of a huge house. Well... it was more of a mansion than it was a home. The yard and the mansion together took up about 3 acres. The home was beautifully furnished with many different kinds of furniture, all amazing, all from different time periods. One whole room of the house was dedicated to Jackson Pollack. You know, paint splattered everywhere, bright colors like reds, blues, and yellows. The works. Actually, that was the only room, besides James's room, Sirius and James were allowed to help decorate because they were just slapping paint all over the walls. Mrs. Potter didn't seem to trust the boys with anything else. That was because she was too attached to the rest of the house. And the boys didn't have the greatest record on keeping their hands to themselves when it came to paint. Or anything else for that matter.
The outside of the mansion was all white. The front door had a little patio with it and a little roof that was supported by Roman columns. You almost expected the inside to be a temple for gods, like you'd just walked into Rome. The windows were like those of Colonial times. They had little latches on the insides to open them. In fact one was opened in James's room to let the gentle breeze of summer in. It was so--- wait a second. James's window was open! Yes! That had to be it!
"Easy, stupid. We fly."
"Fly? James, are you expecting us to sprout wings just before we fall?"
"No. Hello! What do you have in you hand?"
"My broomstick. Shooting Arrow 2. Equipped with the best---"
"Exactly," James interrupted, glancing around excitedly. "You fly you broom up to the window, climb in, and we're all set to see this luncheon."
"Oh..." Sirius said, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "But how are we going to get into the luncheon without being seen by your parents?"
James stared at him for a second. He seemingly was trying to put together a plan that would work in a matter of twenty seconds.
"If only I had an invisibility cloak," he muttered to himself quietly.
"Maybe we could fly our broomsticks above the room around the ceiling."
James's eyebrows formed a frown that made his nose look very wrinkled.
"Sirius are you thick? There are MUGGLES in the ballroom!"
Sirius looked at his feet, as though ashamed that he had suggested something so out there. But his sorrowful look quickly vanished as a light bulb went off in his head.
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"Lily, I specifically wanted french toast, not toasted toast! French toast!", Petunia exclaimed, disgusted with the plate in front of her. She was so loud about it, Lily thought. She was sure people could hear Petunia in her room from Scotland.
"Yes, 'Tunia," Lily sighed, wanting to blast "'Tunia" to the moon.
"And not just any french toast! It has to have cinnamon! You hear me? Cinna--"
"Cinnamon!I heard you," Lily finished for her, backing out of her sister's room, "I can hear pretty well, you know!"
"Well, if you don't learn to take instructions and not smart-mouth to me, I'll finish off your hearing for you!" Petunia yelled, the rage showing on her swelled face. If Lily hadn't been very angry also, the sight of Petunia's face would have set off a fist of giggles. It was swelling to the size of a big, red, hot air balloon in a matter of seconds.
Lily couldn't believe this. Just because she was younger, she always got pushed around! It wasn't fair!
But there was nothing she could do. Petunia had the better of her. She sulkily started down the stairs and made her way into the kitchen, the large tray in her hands almost had her collapse under its weight. She heated the griddle, silently wishing Petunia away, and put the batter on. Minutes later, she added the cinnamon, and gave it a swirling effect. Then she stomped back up the stairs, to be confused a moment later.
"Petunia! You listen," She yelled with all the anger she could muster, entering her sister's bedroom, "This is the last time I break my back for you! You're a spoiled---!"
But, by then it was too late. Her sister had disappeared.
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"Sirius, I can't believe I listened to you," James whispered, looking down at the black dress with a white frilly apron that clothed his body.
"Hey, did you have a better plan?" Sirius smiled, glancing at James' blond wig, "And, anyway, I think the look says Y-O-U!"
"That's not funny Miss Red-head. At least if this wig starts actually growing hair, I'll be able to hide the gray hairs better!" James shot back, laughing out loud at his own comment. He sounded like his next-door neighbor...silly and petty.
Sirius thought about it for a second, not really absorbing all the information. Then after he realized what James was saying, he started doubling over too.
"Ssshhhh..." James hushed him, peering outside of his bedroom door for a sign of any life.
"Alright. I'm shhh-ing!"
James put a finger to his lips making a quiet sign, and then twisted his head around the door frame, keeping an eye out for any maids...or his parents...or a muggle...or...
Suddenly James was now located in a heap on the floor.
"The coast is clear already!" Sirius complained towering over James.
"Fine...you don't have to be so pushy about it!"
"I'm just getting this plan underway. I don't really feel like sitting in our room all day."
"You don't seem to mind it when there's nothing to do at your house!" James snapped.
"Alright, you win, whatever," a defeated Sirius replied.
"Yup, and you know it!" the blond-wigged boy smugly grinned.
"Shut your trap." the red-head muttered.
"Sure, sure," James said good-naturedly.
Both boys gave up on mocking the other. It took to much thought and energy to think up a good insult the other hadn't already used.
Then, they left James' room and set out for the downstairs parlor. They were approaching the spiral staircase when, quite suddenly, James heard footsteps growing increasingly louder behind them until—
"Sirius, in here!" James hoarsely whispered as he pulled him by his blouse collar into the musty, old storage closet.
"Woah. That was close," Sirius wiped his brow for emphasis.
"No kidding," his companion responded looking around at the sky-high shelves of cleaning supplies.
"What are you looking for?"
"Something that will make us look more like maids."
He climbed one of the shelves carefully, but was as swift as a chimp climbing a tree.
"Careful, James. If you fall our parents will kill us." Sirius said uncharacteristically concerned.
James just climbed higher and rolled his eyes, "Well if I fall from here, idiot, I'll probably die instantly anyways, so that won't be my problem."
"What, you don't care what happens to me after you die? Some friend you are!" Sirius faked a pout.
James jumped down from the rafter, repelling like a rock climber, his left hand full, decided to play along.
"I die and you worry about what's going to happen to you? I'm insulted."
Sirius innocently changed the subject.
"What are those?" He asked pointing towards James' hand.
"Feather dusters. Quite odd since they're dusty themselves." he answered, handing Sirius a battered duster.
"Poofy thing, it is," Sirius brought the the feathers up to his nose, and sniffed. He repulsed the smell and immediately began to cough. "Ug, ugh, ug! Smells, ug, like my grandma's perfume. Ugh, ug! Nasty!"
"Duh, Sirius. Let's go." And with that, he barged the door open and crept out.
James and Sirius walked down the long hallways for a while. On the way, they tried to dust everything in sight. Including couches and their pillows.
"Have you ever dusted before, James?"
"No, have you?"
"I don't think so. That's my mom's job."
Ring.
"Sirius! Don't answer it." James cautioned him immediately.
"Why?"
Ring.
"Because... it's my house and I said so."
Ring.
"Fine. You answer it. Someone's got to."
"But what if it's someone that knows my voi--"
Ring.
"Just answer it, James. The sound's annoying me."
"Fine, fine," James picked up the phone and summoned himself to speak in a high-pitched voice, "Hello, Potter Residence. May I ask who's calling please?"
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"Petunia! Stop playing around! Please Petunia!" Lily yelled, hoping that this was her sister's idea of a game. "Petunia! Come out, come out wherever you are!"
She went on calling for quite some time, almost losing her voice. Finally, she decided that is might as well call for some help.
"Mum and Dad. No matter much they'll kill me I have to call them," She thought aloud.
She rushed downstairs and into the somewhat shabby living room. Lily reached timidly for the telephone receiver, afraid that by the time her parents were finished with her, she wouldn't be able to reach for the telephone anymore. Then she remembered that there was a situation at hand, and quickly pulled open the mahogany drawer and looked for her father's address book. The Potters number was in the very front. Obviously.
"Potters...Potters...Potter, Daniel...there it is!"
She dialed the number as quickly as her little fingers would allow her. The dial tone started..."Pick up, pick up, pick up..." She waited impatiently. "You have to pick up," She kept muttering to herself.
"Hello, Potter Residence. May I ask who's calling please?" A screechy voice answered. Lily compulsively moved her ear away from the phone. She didn't exactly want to hear that kind of voice in the morning.
Woah, Lily thought. You'd think the Potters had enough money that they could hire someone to answer the phone who's voice didn't sound like nails on a chalkboard. Honestly.
"Um. Hello," Lily started, having been brought up to be polite she decided not to comment on the lady's lack of vocal ability, "I'm Lily Evans. Uh, do you think you could get my parents for me? They're at the luncheon or whatever was going on today. It's...well...it's sort of an emergency."
The "woman's" voice spoke up again, "Of course dearie. That would be Mr. and Mrs. Evans I presume?"
Lily heard a hushed voice in the background say, "What, are you trying to be, a kind, old, sweet nanny of sorts?" And was followed by some muffled laughter.
"Uh, yeah...Thank you," Lily responded and hung up the phone.
She really hoped her parents got the message. Whoever answered the phone better be reliable. Or Lily was going to have to do some serious screaming at the top of her lungs.
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James looked up at Sirius in distress. "How are we going to tell her parents to call her?" James asked him, seemingly upset.
"We'll tell them when we get to the ballroom." Sirius answered him, showing plainly on his face that he thought James had completely lost his mind. It was so simple. "You just go up to the Evans and say, 'Hello, your daughter called and would like to speak to you.' Wasn't it Evans, right?"
James mirrored Sirius' look. Sirius was always forgetting to think logically. What if his parents recognized him? What someone else recognized him? He would be embarrassed for the rest of his life. On the other hand, if he got through this he would be a legend. Well, not really. He'd be a legend to Sirius and himself at least. "Sirius, someone will see us and know it's us. That's what always happens."
"And your point is?" Sirius inquired skillfully. He was no prat. He knew exactly how to trick James into things he would never normally do.
"Um..."
"No point then, eh? Let's go." He finished as he dragged James off before he could say another word.
They reached the ballroom almost too quickly. The huge golden doors were just ahead of them, and the boys stopped to peer into their windows.
When they looked inside, there must have been a hundred people in there. Everyone was just standing around and talking. How boring is that, Sirius thought. I came here for nothing.
They were in complete awe when they stepped into the ballroom. It didn't look like it normally did. A huge buffet table was to their left, with any type of food you could ever imagine on it. The diamond chandeliers had been replaced with ordinary crystal ones. The walls of the ballroom no longer consisted of different patterns, but stood tall like milky white clouds. And the ceilings no longer had a sparkle to them. It looked like any run-of-the-mill, rich muggle's ballroom. It disturbed James greatly.
James managed to spot his father sitting at one of the many French renaissance tables in the hall. He noticed a man with a pencil who was writing furiously as though he had the next big story on his hands. Reporter, James labeled him in his brain. James smoothed out his skirt and grabbed Sirius' arm, guiding him in the direction of his father. "This way," he hissed.
Just as he reached his father, he heard a huge thud over at the buffet table. He whipped his head around so fast that his blond wig almost came off. Sirius followed the same suite. The boom had occurred at the punch table, and following that a muffled cry of pain was heard.
Mr. Potter looked over to see what the commotion was about, and noticed that one of his maids that had just walked in had a little bit of black hair poking out of her red hair. Just as he was about to approach the maid, the man next of him yelled out, "PETUNIA?"
The Evans were the first to rush over along with the Potters. A man known as Albus Dumbledore helped Petunia to her feet. Her brown hair matted to her face, and white clothes now flushed with a pink tint, she murmured under her breath, "I hate you, Lily."
"Are you all right?" Dumbledore asked in a kindly tone.
"Petunia? Are you okay, darling? What's wrong? How did you get here?" Christine Evans asked, spitting our all those questions in less then 10 seconds, "You must have fallen about thirty feet!"
"Yes, mother. I'm alright, except I have a bit of a --"
She fainted on the spot.
"She fainted!" Someone called out.
"Call an ambulance!"
"Someone get the phone!"
"Quick! We've not much time!"
Mr. Potter held up his hand. "Not to worry. I'll take care of it."
Sirius and James still stood there in motionless horror.
"Michelle, dear, could you get those two maids over there," he pointed his wife to James and Sirius and winked, sounding a bit angry, "I'm sure they could help us out."
"Of course, dear. Blondie and Red-head. Got it." And the Potters went up to a guest room, with the Evans and the boys. Dumbledore placed Petunia gently on the bed.
Mr. Potter addressed the "maids" while Mrs. Potter ordered a house-elf (in the hall, so the Evans couldn't see, mind you) to get a pitcher of cold water. "Which one of you did it?"
"What do you mean, sir?" Sirius asked looking very surprised.
"Out with it boys. I know you aren't maids. Do I look that stupid?"
"But, Dad, WE DIDN'T DO THIS!" James said, almost pouting.
"Who else would have—," Mr. Potter began, but was soon enough interrupted.
A tall, thin figure appeared next to him. His eyes wandered to the girl lying before him and his robes of deep purple seemed to sparkle as he moved toward the girl in question. At once, James considered him the oddest, yet most powerful wizard he had ever witnessed.
"They did not bring the girl here," Dumbledore quietly stated.
"Then how did she get here?" Mrs. Potter chimed in.
Albus Dumbledore turned to Mr. and Mrs. Evans. "You are the parents of Lily Evans, are you not?"
They nodded slowly wondering what this had to do with anything.
"Congratulations. Your daughter, Lily, has been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You should be very proud. She should be receiving her letter tomorrow since Minvera and I were unable to send them today." Dumbledore smiled at them.
The room was silent.
Mr. Evans broke the silence with no sign of hesitation.
"Excuse me?"
He made it quite clear that he did not understand a single word the man had just said.
"Your daughter is a witch," Dumbledore stated plainly, "Believe it or not, she is a witch none the less."
"But we haven't had a witch," Mr. Evans sputtered, "since my Great--"
"--Great Auntie Elm," Dumbledore finished, his blue eyes beginning to sparkle, "And what a sweet lady she was, too. But that is beside the point. The reason your daughter is here right now is a result of your other daughter."
"So you're saying the girl-- their daughter," Mr. Potter corrected himself, "Lily, sent her sister here."
"That is exactly what I am saying."
As the three men went on with their conversation, Sirius and James sat down and stayed quiet. There was no way they were going to miss this.
After hearing several squeaking noises outside the bedroom, Mrs. Potter realized it was the house-elf calling. Fetching the water from the young elf, and giving her an, "That will be all," she stepped back into the room and handed the pitcher over to Mrs. Evans.
Then, a quick splash later, Petunia woke up with a startled snort. The boys tried to hide their muffled giggles under stiff coughs as the Potters turned around and gave them silencing looks. They quieted, and stole a quick look at Dumbledore. They noticed he looked as though he was trying to mask the laughter that shone in his eyes.
"Petunia?" Her mother asked out hopefully.
Slowly, she began to respond. "Mum? Dad? Where am I?"
"Oh, don't you worry about that dear. Just rest your eyes. We'll be on our way home in no time." Mrs. Evans cooed.
Mr. Evans stuck out his hand to Mr. Potter. "Thank you for your hospitality. Michelle, always a pleasure. "And he kissed her on the cheek. Then he put out his hand to someone else. He felt very awkward all the same. "Mr. Dumbledore, it was," he paused for just a second, "Very nice to meet you."
Dumbledore extended his own hand and grasped Mr. Evan's. His eyes twinkled almost eerily, it was unnerving. "I daresay we shall meet again."
And with that, the Evans left.
When they reached home, Petunia was sent straight to bed, still completely bitter towards Lily. Lily was then brought in, and explained of what had happened to her "dear" sister. Lily was nearly as confused as her parents.
But just as Dumbledore had promised, a letter reached their house the next afternoon. Although it came by an unusual way (by owl), the letter stated in shining green ink, just below the school and headmaster's crest:
Dear Miss Lily Evans,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Also find enclosed directions to where you can find these things.
Term begins September 1st. We await your owl no longer than July 31st.
Yours Sincerely,
Minvera McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Lily was in awe. So this is what they meant by witches and wizards. How completely amazing.
"Oh look," Petunia said in mock happiness, glancing over her sister's shoulder, "You got a freakishly grand surprise."
"Not as freakish as your birth, though." Lily grumbled under her breath.
Michael Evans looked at Petunia in horror. "Petunia, you are grounded for today. How dare you say something like that to your sister? It is an HONOR to be a witch. I don't want to hear you talking like that again!"
It was obvious that his Great Auntie Elm was someone he valued dearly and held in high respects.
Petunia sulkily took herself upstairs, not daring to disobey her father, but muttering under her breath the whole way.
Mrs. Evans spoke up. "Lily, that's wonderful, dear, that you've been accepted. We'll have to write to the school and tell them you'll accept."
Lily didn't speak.
Christine's smile faltered. "Unless...you don't want to go?"
"No...It's not that Mum...it's just," she hesitated, trying to think of the right way to put it, "How do you know this really exists?" she glanced at her letter again, struggling with the right pronunciation, "And what's Dia—gon Alley?"
"Ahhh...Diagon Alley," her father sighed, "I forgot about that place. I went there once with my Auntie Elm. She had to get a certain kind of medicine that we can't make. We non-wizards that is...but what did she call me to another wizard? The word escapes me now."
His wife shot him a glance, and he got right back on track. "How do I know it's real, Lil, you ask? Becuase, I've seen it. It is, by far, one of the most amazing things I've ever seen. You'll love being a witch, Lily. I know it."
Lily still looked uncertain.
"Hey, why don't we go to Diagon Alley today to get your things? Then you can see it all for yourself, hon." Mrs. Evans suggested. Mr. Evans smiled. It was great to have a wife who read minds.
Lily looked fairly enthusiastic about this. "Can we really? That would be absolutely perfect!"
"Here's the plan, then. I'll watch Petunia, while you two go to get your school things. How about if I don't write to Hogwarts until you two come back?" Mrs. Evans said making a compromise.
"Sure, Mum. That'd be wonderful."
Lily grinned. She was going to Diagon Alley.