DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of the honourable J.K Rowling
The Truth
AFTERMATH
Sunday 11th of January
Last day of the holidays. The day when you realise that you've forgotten to do your homework and stay up until midnight vainly trying to complete it in any satisfactory way. Well, at least I, being a responsible seventh-year NEWT student, had only two essays I'd forgotten to do. And how do I have the time to write in this you ask? Well, lets just say that the life-cycle of the kappa isn't all that stimulating and that I won't stand for Professor Dupinkay being the cause of my dying of chronic boredom.
This week has been an odd week in most respects. Mum and Dad have been out a lot, celebrating their twentieth anniversary, and I've a nasty suspicion (from the giddy giggles I hear some nights after midnight) that they may be exploiting their inner teenager for all its worth. I just hope the effects are not permanent. So with the aged parents out of the house a lot, and Vernon and Petunia trying to keep as far away as possible from me at all times (I've been demonstrating quite a bit of magic recently), I've actually had the house to myself at times– and friends who drop by and leave as suddenly as they arrived. I've slowly been able to piece together what happened from them, however. I thought it a bit of an anticlimax myself, but you may not.
Tory was the first to drag herself out of bed (Tory, with a hangover! Can you believe it?) and zap herself to my house late on the Saturday evening after the party. I must at admit, I stared at her, gobsmacked, for a full minute before I invited her in. The dishevelled, pale creature with blood-shot eyes was simply not an image I could relate to neat, sensible little Tory I had come to know and love.
"Victoria!" I said, sounding like my mother. Tor smiled weakly and trooped into my fire-lit lounge room.
"Lily," said Tor solemnly, "Firewhisky should never be the first alcoholic drink you ever try." I gaped at her, and she stared back until the corners of her eyes began to crinkle and she began to giggle. That set me off, and before we knew it we were rolling around and laughing uproariously.
"Tell me what happened," I gasped after a while, still having difficulty picturing Tory politely sipping Firewhisky, the most potent drink the wizarding world has to offer.
And so I heard the story, or Tor's version, which is probably more truthful than anyone else's. After we had been split up the night before, Tory had found herself in the midst of a gaggle of anonymous dancers, who were undoubtedly very friendly, but who also felt that no one should be left standing on the side. Tory's first partner was a stocky lad dressed as a flobber-worm (don't ask), and she managed five other dances until they broke into the firewhisky. I personally would have thought that Tor should have had enough sense to decline, but she was 'caught up in the moment, and actually enjoying herself', and besides, the poor naïve thing had no idea what firewhisky was (even I know that, and my father isn't even a wizard). So Tory got drunk, and as I told her, she would have to work to repair my opinion of her (she was appropriately ashamed and pitiful about it, so I'll probably forgive her). The next bit of her story was a bit hazy, and I withheld my suspicions as to why, but apparently some boy (Tarzan, I'd say) thought Tory was in need of a good snog, and then Sirius Black arrived on the scene to save her. The picture Tory painted of our vampire friend was far too complimentary for my liking, but he did do some good. Though things went downhill after that. For reasons I didn't want to go into at the time, Sirius Black was feeling very protective of our Tor, so he aimed a punch at the offending seven-foot giant, others joined him and a massive fight broke out. Sirius heroically dragged Tor out of the fray and ran for his life (and it's just lucky Potter was there to get him out of there. Not that I'm praising him or anything). And do you know what the worst thing is? As she left, Tory said something like,
"That Sirius, he's not so bad you know Lily, and he's very handsome…" I resisted the urge to make her see reason, assuming that she was too tired to think clearly.
My next visitor, predictably, was Celine. She came in large as life and gushing about the party. She did not seemed at all disturbed that her sister's party had turned into a full on brawl,
"Lily," she said, "You should have stayed. It was awesome," she went on for a few more minutes in an entirely inappropriate manner about the party, adding words like 'wicked' in here and there for no apparent reason.
"Celine, it turned into a riot," I said,
"That's bullocks, it was-"
"They had firewhisky,"
"Hey, how d'you know that?"
"Tory,"
"Oh yeah, Tory…"
"Yeah, so what happened after we left?" I rolled my eyes as Celine began to giggle,
"Well," she said gasped, "I suppose it's not that funny, but all those blokes who were chasing Sirius came back in completely off there heads and there was a huge fist fight between the Hogwart's kids and the ex-students! And all the boys seemed to have grog hidden on them, so-"
"Celine, why are you laughing?" I asked sharply. She suddenly stopped and stared at me, long, orange hair sticking out around her face,
"I'm not really sure," she said in a small voice, "I think I'd better go." And then she was gone in a puff of green smoke. Can you believe that? The girl is mad, nutcase, a psychiatrist's dream! Completely bonkers.
Then came the real surprise. Toby, Black and Potter came round. Together. Can you believe it? The nerve of them, to show up like that.
"Hi," said young Toby, completely unaware of my discomfiture at the presence of his companions.
"Hi," I said icily. Could the love of Celine's life possess such stupidity as to deliberately lead James Potter to my doorstep? I'm still finding it difficult to fathom. "What are you doing here?" I asked in a harsher tone than I intended.
"Just to see if you were all right!" piped up Sirius chirpily. I raised my eyebrows,
"You would probably have heard if I had died," I said a touch more politely.
"Good point-"
"Hi Evans!" said Potter.
"Hi," I said, not looking at him (to look would have been fatal).
"Celine about?" asked Toby, and I sighed with relief. He had only been looking for his deranged girlfriend, not cunningly plotting my demise. I smiled,
"Nope, sorry, haven't seen her since yesterday-"
"Well, can we come in anyway?" asked Sirius, and I could already see from his God-awful grin that he was just dying to get a good look inside my house.
"Um, you see I was just going out-"
"Toby! So nice to see you dear, are these some friends of yours?" Mothers. Don't you just love them? If only she'd never met Toby before. Then maybe she would've had a heart attack over the appearance of three seventeen-year-old boys on her daughter's doorstep and sent them packing. As it was, she went all goo-gaa over Toby-the-blithering-idiot and said,
"Oh, do come in, boys. I'm always saying Lily doesn't invite around enough male friends!"
Ok, think extreme mortification. That really was a real gem in Mum's treasury of embarrassing comments. For one thing, she is always saying nothing of the sort (she's pleased I don't fraternise with the male species too much!), and for another, what right has she to decide which boys I invite in for cake and a spot of tea?
Wearing what I knew to be a thunderous look on my face, I traipsed after my snickering 'male friends' sending death glares in the general direction of my oblivious mother. I think she really would have offered the tea and cake, too, if the D.S (on one of her brief visits to her childhood home) had not burst into the living room gasbagging about swan-shaped dinner napkins. Until she saw the three boys that is. She stood there and stared at them, her-orb like pools of viciousness she likes to call eyes practically rolling out onto the floor.
"Petunia, these are Lily's friends-" my mother began, soon to be cut off by Black who, with an ironic bow, said,
"Ah, you must be Lily's sister! I'm Sirius Black, pleased to meet you-"
"And I'm James Potter-"
Then Petunia screamed and ran out of the room.
Sirius had transformed Potter's ears into long writhing tentacles. Ingenious, really; his wand hardly moved. Torn between the urge to laugh at Petunia and the urge to be disapproving of Black, I smiled uncertainly and wished they would go away. My mother (I would really like to know what was going on in her befuddled brain today) cackled with laughter and explained about Petunia being highly strung due to the wedding, et cetera.
Potter and Black threw themselves onto armchairs, smiling broadly and looking around the room. Toby, I was gratified to note, was beginning to look distinctly uncomfortable.
"A drink?" I asked them, and Potter waved his tentacles at me.
"Oh, good, Toby, you can come and help me get them!" grasping him firmly by the elbow, I propelled him towards the kitchen, where my mother could be heard clattering around. Beaming at me idiotically, she pointed to the already poured drinks and attempted to shoo me back into the living room. Shaking my head firmly I waited until my mother had left with the tray of drinks before turning to Toby.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked, getting to the point. He looked mildly surprised at my tone, then realised what I was talking about.
"Erm, well…" he shrugged helplessly, his sandy eyebrows knitted anxiously. Young Toby has always been a man of few words, but I had credited him with the ability to have a few more thoughts.
"You brought Potter, and Black here," I prompted him.
"Oh, well, I didn't think…" he trailed off. (For someone so tall he does a really good impression of a petrified field mouse)
"What, that I'd mind?"
"Well, yes…"
"Potter. Here."
"Well, Celine's always saying you and he would get on famously if you'd give each other half a chance-"
"Don't go there, Toby,"
"Oh, I'm really sorry, Lily! I honestly didn't think it would be a big deal…I really was just looking for Celine…had no intention of coming in…"
There really wasn't any point in being angry at him. I mean, to anyone else except me it really wouldn't appear a 'big deal'. I wasn't even sure wether I had the right to create a big deal out of it, but there was just something incredibly wrong with the picture of Sirius Black sitting in my living room chatting to my mother with James Potter beside him looking around pervertedly at my personal possessions and waggling his slimy green tentacles. Anyway, you just can't yell at Toby. He just gives you the answer according to his logic and then apologises wether or not he's in the wrong. An infuriating boy.
And so it was that Black and Potter were introduced to my house and family. They told me about how they'd gone back to the party after the heat had died down, got roaring drunk (not in front of my mother of course) and slept in Celine's house with the other sixty or so people who were in no fit state to make it home. I failed to see how I was supposed to be impressed. Then, Sirius went into a graphic detail about a fist-fight he had over a party pie in the early hours of the morning. Interestingly enough he had no qualms about explaining that he had lost dramatically and even seemed proud that he had to go to St Mungo's the following day to have several crushed foot and finger-bones repaired.
The Three intruders finally left after a few hours of great laughter (on their part) and nervousness of what they would do next (on my part). I ushered them to the door with forcefulness bordering on rudeness after Sirius had brought the topic of Tory into the conversation.
"You know, that Tory's very nice once you get to know her," he said innocently, earning a glare from me.
"And pretty too," said Potter smiling with satisfaction.
"I've never got to know her really well before-"
"Neither have I, I always thought she was a bit of a swat, actually-"
"Potter-"
"But boy can she dance-"
"And her costume!"
"Like a nymph dancing in the moonlight she was-"
"Toby, I'm sure you have places to be," I interjected crisply,
"Ah, yes," replied Toby, looking slightly worried.
"What do you think, Lily?" asked Black, ignoring my thunderous face, "Do I have a chance with sweet Victoria?"
"No," I said firmly, and he pretended to looks hurt, his dark eyes downcast,
"Aw, don't be so negative, Evans! Padfoot here usually finds the girls pretty defenceless against his charms," said Potter, winking disgustingly at me.
"I just don't think Tory would be so stupid as to get involved with the likes of either of you," I snapped, without thinking. As both Potter and Black's faces darkened considerably, I had a niggling feeling that, after being fairly abrupt and unresponsive for the past few hours, I had gone a little too far.
"What's that supposed to mean, then?" asked Black in a deadly calm voice. I could not tell if he was joking or serious. My throat went dry.
"Oh, well, what I mean is that you've hardly got the reputation as being the world's steadiest boyfriend, have you?" I ploughed on, suddenly feeling determined to have my say. Black's striking face suddenly twisted in the an ugly scowl,
"And what would you know about me, Miss Evans?" he growled,
"I know enough," I said, finding courage in my anger. I thought about how most of Black's girlfriends either end up blubbering heaps on their dormitory floors or rage-filled maniacs vowing revenge, and looked him squarely in the eye.
"Enough? You don't know the first thing about me," he said, and I still couldn't tell what he was thinking. I opened my mouth, and even I don't know what I would have said if Potter hadn't cut in,
"Leave it Padfoot,"
"Why, Prongs? I'm interested to know-"
"Just leave it-"
"What gives her the right to decide who I-"
"Leave it,"
"Just because you fancy her-" Black stopped talking and looked slightly embarrassed (if it is possible for him), and glanced at his friend. Potter eyed him coolly and turned to me (I was just standing there like a stunned mullet with a full frontal lobotomy),
"I think we'll be going now," he said without a trace of the smirk which had been occupying his face since his arrival.
"Yes I think we will," said Black sinisterly, and I tried no to shudder. Attempting to keep my composure, save face and prevent Black from a forming an even greater grudge against me, I smiled painfully and showed them out. As Toby walked out I gave him what I hoped was a perfectly excruciating dig in the ribs and watched him trudge miserably after the others. When I caught up I saw Black cheerfully sling one arm over each of his two friend's shoulders. A horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that he'd been laughing at me all along. I just hope Tory knows what's coming her way. Writing all this down has increased my dread of starting school again tomorrow. Damn it.
Monday 12th of January
Today was a bad day. I did not like it. It was one of those dissatisfactory days when nothing useful happens and you feel as though you have achieved nothing. It is the first night of term and already I feel the weight of too much homework pressing down on me. I'm behind before I've started. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. I highly doubt it.
Oh yes, and this morning at breakfast Black put a spell on my porridge so that the entire first mouthful changed into a writhing mass earthworms as soon as I closed my mouth around it. That'll teach me to speak my mind.