Chapter Four: Magic Becomes Art
"I'm sorry... Don't be angry, Harry..." Lily moaned, tossing and turning in her sleep. Harry watched silently as tears leaked out of her eyes.
'I'm sorry too...' he thought to himself. Lily had always been there for him, since almost before he could remember. She had been his secret friend that nobody knew about; something that was his and his alone, a rare amenity in the Dursley household for a young wizard. He had treasured his secret, never once slipping up and revealing her. It hadn't been until he grew up and had started going to Hogwarts that he had doubted the reality of his first, best, and only friend. Of course she was real, and it was utterly ridiculous that she was... imaginary. Except for the fact that she never visited him at Hogwarts, and for the fact that she vehemently insisted that he was a character in a new series of books written by some woman named J.K. Rowling. It had never occurred to him that Lily might be visiting other people... and apparently she hadn't felt it was important to tell him that she was visiting with Draco Malfoy, of all people. She couldn't have chosen someone other than his arch nemesis? He sighed as she continued to call out in his sleep, mumbling apologies.
Snape had given her something to get her to sleep and dream again; she had suffered from insomnia for three nights after she had revealed her secret to everyone. Now, although she was sleeping, it wasn't peacefully. Her conscience wouldn't leave her alone.
"HARRY! NO!" Lily screamed suddenly. She arched off the mattress. "HE'S ALRIGHT, IT'S JUST A TRICK!" The redhead flopped back onto the dusty bed, and began sobbing again, curling into the fetal position and clutching the covers.
Harry stared, wide-eyed, as Lily continued to cry as if her heart was crushed. She began whimpering softly. Harry couldn't stand it any more, but Snape had made it quite clear that Lily was not to be woken. He climbed into the bed with her, gently pulling her into his lap and stroking her hair. She clutched his large t-shirt and cried into it instead.
"What happened?" growled Snape from the doorway. He stormed across the room to inspect his niece.
"She just started yelling at me. She never woke up," Harry replied calmly. He seemed to be unable to produce any strong emotions at the moment. Snape glared at him one last time before sweeping back out of the room. Ron and Hermione stood just outside in the hall. "Come in," Harry said, beckoning them in. "Just be quiet."
His two best friends entered silently. Hermione sat in the chair Harry had just vacated as Ron pulled a stiff, wooden chair in from the hall. They sat in silence as Lily continued to cry and call out.
The next morning, Lily woke, alone in the dusty old bed she had been placed in. Her twisted ankle throbbed dully, and her eyes were gritty from too much crying. A weak beam of sunlight filtered through a grungy window, throwing the unlit room into twilight.
"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" bellowed Harry. "SHE KILLED HIM - I'LL KILL HER!"
Lily shook her head to clear away the memories thrust upon her by the potion she had gagged down. It was made to induce dreams, and her dreams had always given her whatever she requested... so she asked for Harry's memories of the previous year. She had relived them, complete with the turbulent teenage emotions. He had been through so much in his life. Where did she get off lying to him about Draco?
'Draco...' she thought. She had tried to get to Harry during his first night at Hogwarts, six years ago, but she had been drawn accidentally to somebody else, huddled crying in their four poster bed...
Flashback
Lily rested a spectral hand on the small, pale boy's back, rubbing in small circles as he muffled the sound of his crying in his pillow. Hesat up as he felt her hand on his back, his head jerking up as he felt her touch. 'Who... who are you?' he had asked angrily, looking rather unimpressive with his tearstained face and runny nose.
'I'm a friend,' she had replied, getting into the bed with him. He was stiff, glaring at her fiercely, at first, until he eventually gave in to the ghost-like form sitting next to him. 'What's wrong?' she whispered gently. He looked at her one last time, searching her face for something. Apparently he found it, because he promptly collapsed against her. The floodgate opened, and he told her all about how mean his father was, and how everything had to be perfect, and how he always had to act befitting of a Malfoy.
'I never get to have any friends!' he wailed, his voice muffled in the thick sweatshirt Lily had gone to sleep in.
'Now you do. I'll stay with you tonight, okay?' she had offered. And so she had stayed.
From that time onward, she had split her dream-time between the two boys - the Hogwarts school year for Draco, and the summer for Harry. She had gotten away with it, with neither the wiser, until now. She had watched as they grew up; Draco became more self-contained and controlled as he distanced himself from his housemates, and Harry became less shy and reserved as he made friends with Hermione and Ron. Draco had opened up to her, at least, and she was sure that deep down he was a decent person. He was forced to act like a nasty little bugger to make sure that his father was pleased with him, and had almost convinced himself that he really did like the foul man.
She had learned at some point during their first year that they hated each other, and had actually stayed away from him for two weeks. He had been hurt afterward, but she had apologized and he had immediately forgiven her.
Harry stirred beside her, and she realized that he had fallen asleep next to her; she vaguely remembered him getting into bed with her when she was watching Sirius fall through the veil...
She shook her head and went back to sleep.
Draco glanced around. Harry knew he was checking for signs of teachers. Then he looked back at Harry and said in a low voice, "You're dead, Potter." Lily could see through the exterior - he was just doing this for appearance's sake. She almost giggled at the boredom she could see in his eyes.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Funny," he said, "you'd think I'd have stopped walking around..." 'Wow,' Lily thought. 'Harry's gotten sharp...'
Draco looked angrier than Harry had ever seen him, but Lily could see that he was acting. She felt a surge of pride for his acting skills.
"You're going to pay," said Malfoy in a voice barely louder that a whisper. Draco always had been rather melodramatic in his better moods. "I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my father..." Nope. He just liked ticking off Harry, because it was so easy. Just because he wasn't evil didn't mean he didn't like to be a bit of a nuisance.
"Well, I'm terrified now," said Harry sarcastically. "I s'pose Lord Voldemort's just a warm-up act compared to you three - what's the matter?" he said, for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had all looked stricken at the sound of the name. More acting... on Draco's part, anyway. Draco liked to call Voldemort 'Lord Moldywart' in private. "He's your dad's mate, isn't he? Not scared of him, are you?"
Lily forcibly pushed the implanted memory away; she hated to see the nasty façade Draco used. She woke enough to stare at the beam of light once again...
She had magic now, did she?
Molly Weasley gasped in delight as she entered the guest room Lily and Harry had slept in. There was a weak beam of light filtering through the dirty, cracked window. Where it touched the floor, it became a babbling brook of sunshine, flowing around the bed as it followed the pattern woven into the dusty rug on the floor. It circulated around the bed, a glorious progression of sunlight and happiness made liquid. She sighed happily, and turned to get the children. As she walked away, spirits lifted somehow, she reevaluated her opinion of the red headed girl who was so fond of her surrogate son. Anyone who could create something so uplifting couldn't be half bad.
Lily smiled in her sleep, and butterflies of sunlight burst forth from the surface of the stream to flutter around the room.
