Butterfly Wings
Disclaimer: roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own Harry, so you do not sue.
Well I didn't like the original Chapter thirteen so I made some changes…
This chapter is still dedicated to Gretch for a really good review and advice we should all take.
Chapter Thirteen
The first rays of the sun greeted Lily Evans as she walked determinedly through Surreys streets. A hard edge interfered with the normal sparkle of those trademark emerald eyes. Her jaw determined and body rigid she walked through those lonely streets as if bracing herself against an invisible enemy. Empty beer cans and sheets of lined paper blew down the empty streets, signs of humanity unseen. Cool winds whipped around her, auburn hair mingling with dusty air as fire with sand. Gray clouds guarded the sun from sight as rain began to fall. Those tears from heaven winding their way down her cheeks. Her clothes wet with rain hung off her small frame as she stood, face towards the sky, arms outstretched. Cold winds whipping her already wet stringy hair about her face, salty tears mingling with rain. With a deep breath and a shaky step she began again, solitary figure marching into the feared unknown.
James opened the door with a slam rain dripping off his body onto the carpet and pooling at his feet. Ruffling the loose rain from his hair he joined the party at the table poring over old maps. There musty smell mingled with sea spray as curtains billowed at the open windows, flapping in the wind. James could almost smell the scent of her skin, her hair, her lips in the growing storm. All the more reason to find her, he though to himself.
"Ok fill me in," he said."
"Remus explained to us that she ran away after getting severely injured. I though she would be safe here so I didn't interfere then, but as she is here no longer, I am." Dumbledor said hurriedly returning to the maps.
"Well Lily wouldn't be strong enough yet to Apperate and she had no money so…" Mrs. Weasley said thoughtfully.
"She doesn't have any family members in London does she?" Moody asked.
"Not that she mentioned at any of the meetings since summer began" Podmore returned.
"She has a dad. Living in Surry" James said pulling the map from the dusty pile.
"So how do we find her? I mean Surreys not exactly small is it?" Sirius said stroking his chin.
"Wait, in history of magic Bins once mentioned something about scrying?" James added glancing at Dumbeldor. Catching his train of though Dumbeldor began searching wildly through his many pockets in the night sky trench coat he was wearing. Pulling an opalescent jewel wrapped in silver vines from his pocket he held it close to his lips whispering words to it in a language James had never heard before.
The jewel swayed aimlessly for a moment, being blown about by the salty wind. It stopped suddenly over Third Street and Elm. Everyone watched the charm in collective silence for a moment, breathlessly. When it didn't move again they shared a collective look. With an ear splitting crack the assembled guests disappeared.
Lily paused at the door of an old apartment building, fingers pressed against the grimy glass. Her heart pounding in her chest, breaths coming in short scared gasps. Lily pressed her lips tight together, suppressing the quivering of her body. With a deep breath she pushed open the door. The smell of burnt food, boiled cabbage and cheap cleaning solution assaulted her nose. The chipped counter in the lobby empty Lily walked across the worn carpet to the stair case in the corner. The smell, though lessened in the sealed spiral made her heart ache even more. Shaking her head to clear it she walked up that lonesome stairway, rain dripping off her body and footsteps echoing in the concrete tomb.
After what seemed like hours Lily stopped at a pea green door, chipped and faded from years of use. With a gulp she opened it. It was just as she remembered. Walls of white, carpet gray and faded, echo of television programs and the smell of smoke and bacon hitting her like a stake in the heart. She remembered waking up to that smell and the sight of her father passed out on the couch, the sound of her mother watching TV, stoned, the sight of this long white hall replaying nightly in her dreams, the stench of his breath, the sound of shouting and fist hitting flesh, the taste of smoke in the air. All things she'd been trying to forget but only remembering again and again.
She sighed.
It was time.
She opened the door to the sound of the TV and the smell of beer and cigarette smoke. Trash spread about on the floor, broken dishes and windows decorating it. The sight of the mirror her grandmother gave her for her eighth birthday lay shattered on the floor at her feet. She could see her reflection in it, a forlorn sight of a stringy haired red head, clothes soggy with rain, eyes filled with the shadows of years of abuse. The bent down to pick up a piece, holding it in her fist, edges pressing against her palm as sweat mingled with a trickling of blood.
"Dad." Lily said her voice hoarse. Her dad didn't move as the television played on, laughter of a taped audience filling the musty room.
"Dad" she repeated with a little more confidence.
Still no answer.
She walked through the months of garbage on the floor and turned off the television. Standing in front of the mass of flesh and alcohol on the couch.
"Dad," she said again.
"Whadda want," he rumbled venomously.
"I wanted to talk," she said with feigned calmness
"I don't," he said bluntly.
Lily ignored his last comment. "So Dad… do you have a job or anything" she asked, trying small talk without success.
"Why do you wanna know" he said as his massive body pulled itself off the ramshackle couch, "You wanna take my money too" he snarled poking his chubby finger into her chest hard enough to bruise.
"No, I just want to make sure you are ok" she said, pushing his hand aside.
"I'm an adult I can take care of myself thank you very much," he said, pushing her backwards in to the television stand. Righting herself Lily replied, "well you couldn't when I was little and you sure as hell can't now" gesturing about the messy room.
"You'll show the proper respect to your father, Lily," he said, emphasizing the last word mockingly.
"What father" she asked calmly, her tone icy, eyes hard.
Lily's Father growled and yanked her hair.
"I've spent my whole life dedicated to you and what to you give me back?" He bellowed angrily.
"Nothing more than you deserve," Lily retorted "you did nothing for me, I raised myself and my brother on my own"
"And look where that got him, DEAD!" he hollered. "My only son" he said shaking her by her hair. Lily pulled herself from his grasp and stepped backwards, stumbling over an empty beer bottle. "Better dead than ending up like you" she said softly.
Lily's dad huffed and lurched towards her, slamming her body, head first, into the wall, denting the plaster and drywall. Eyes steely and lips thin Lily plunged the shard of mirror into her dads chest, warm blood pooling onto her icy hands. With a gasp her father stumbled backwards, falling onto the floor, hand clutching the blood pouring from his chest. His eyes echoing fear, anger and above all surprise as they blinked once before the shaking of his body stopped, breath ceasing from his lips. Lily stood there for a moment, bloody glass in hand, chest shaking, throat tight. The mirror tumbled from her bloody hand, falling soundlessly onto the red/orange carpet, reflecting her blood stained fingertips. Looking at her fathers eyes, opened in surprise now glassy and lifeless, pushed her feet out the door, through the white hall and into the rainy morning streets.
An oddly dressed group of people mostly in their early thirties stood on the corner of a deserted street at half past five in the morning. Rain soaked and scared they stood, their faces as grim as the stormy skies above. With no one about and nothing to lose they ran to the dilapidated building before them. Wrenching open the filthy door they bolted up the ramshackle stairs and flew through the corroder.
"Which one" James bellowed at the head of the pack.
"Thirteen" Dumbledor returned
Sprinting through the derelict hall he slammed right through the old wooden door to find the room empty. Confused he stopped, breath catching in his throat. As blood began to pool by the couch corner James noticed its dark red presence. His feel pulling themselves from their formerly rooted spot drifted towards the couch. On the floor, spread eagled and coated in blood lay Lily's father, eyes glassy and clouded. By a dented wall James saw a shard of mirror, covered in blood laying their as silent testimony of that morning. James' feet whispered their way across the carped and towards that blood stained shard. Gentle fingers picked it up. It lay there, reflecting florescent lights and stained ceiling tiles as he simply stared at it. His fist closed on that small shard. Holding his fist to his mouth James took one look at that scene and the fear echoed in Dumbeldor's eyes and bolted from the room.
Running down the empty white hall and concrete stairs he ran into the rain. Tears merging with cold sweat and water winded there way his cheeks as he ran. Not exactly knowing where he was going just knowing that he had to find her. His feet thumped on the cold gray road as rain fell soundlessly about him. The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his heart and the gasping of his breath. The road winded itself around another block of run down buildings before opening up to a seemingly empty stretch of road and bridge. The lions at its entrance a faded reminder of grander times now stood guarding a chipped and faded roadway, paved with the dreams of people generations before, now ground into its very foundation. James saw this bridge and stopped. On the edge of a bridge he saw the silhouette of young girl, an eerie resemblance to the angel to death, red hair curling down her back, skin alabaster white and black clothes sodden with rain. Her arms opened to the sky and face turned to God, pleading in silent prayer.
James walked towards her, footsteps sounding loud in the pre dawn. As he neared her he could see the watery blood running down her hands and the deep scars of the past, bright red on her arms and wrists. His tender fingers ran down her arm, causing her to turn towards him. The reflection in her eyes was all James needed. He pulled himself up on to the rail of the bridge. They stood there in silence, watching the rains ripples on the rivers surface. Lily turned to face him again, tears falling quietly from her eyes. James ran a finger down her cold white cheek before wrapping long arms around her. She clung to him, her body trembling as tears ran from her eyes. They stood there, alone in the early morning, as rain fell from the sky, washing the blood from her body away and into the river. As the gray clouds shifted and turned above them James lifted Lily off the bridge edge. Fingering the blood stained glass fragment James saw his reflection in it and that of Lily, eyes filled with pain and hardship. With one last glance he tossed the fragment into the river. Rain flashing on its surface as if fell through the sky and into the black churning waters. James jumped down and wrapping his arms around Lily's small frame they walked down the road together, backs turned to Surry, walking away from that cursed place one and for all, letting it go.