Chapter 4: Cold Kindnesses
*We, the simple mortals of the world, do not decide life. It is not at our command no matter how much we wish it to be.*
Lily woke the next morning on the coffee-colored couch. It was lit with the morning sun, and it was oh-so comfy. Comfy would be the word, Lily thought to herself, her mind still muddled with sleep. It was almost too comfy to wake, she recognized as she lifted her eyelids.
And then the light struck and it all came rushing back.
*"You took me, Alex, and I'll never forgive you for that."*
It seemed to be a bit shady to leave the couch at such a time. It seemed inappropriate. But then, hadn't she only just thrown the rulebook out the window?
Lily groaned into her arm. His was so stupid. Who cared if she screwed some half-assed priest? She coughed unhappily. Unless he fucked up her entire life in doing so. It was still so fresh in her mind, the way he stole her soul. What she couldn't understand, though, was if in taking her spirit, did he turn himself into Satan?
Then a sudden thought struck her. What if she was pregnant? In a moment of sympathy in his malevolent ways, perhaps he had tried to give her something in return for her attentions. God, would that be tragic. After all, she *did* have a reputation and it absolutely could not be ruined. With a small nod she made a pact with herself: if she were pregnant, she wouldn't be pregnant for long.
A door creaked open on the floor above.
"Verny, you have to go!" a vile voice shrieked through a cluster of high-pitched giggles.
A low voice grunted. "Just once more, love. I'll leave if you suck me off just once more. C'mon, Petty,"
Verny? Petty? Suck off?
"EWW!"
Lily tensed so greatly she feared she might have condensed. This was SO not right. Could That really be Petunia Evans up there with Vearon, or Varan, or whoever in hell he was. Did he actually spend the night at her house, Lily's house? Was that even possible?
A clatter could be heard as someone scuttled to the stairs. And then there was a crash, a groan and a "Vernon! Look, I'll help. Just pull them up. I'll button them up."
Vernon. That was right.
A second passed. "Oh, god," she muttered to herself. "Tune, can your boy-toy, Verona or whatever, try and not be so *loud*? I was trying to sleep down here." Then she blanched as she heard a small moan. "I suggest you stop doing," she paused, scrunching her nose up, "whatever you're doing; I'm coming up."
There was a brief clomping on the floor and then a door slammed.
"Ugh! Thank you, god," Lily gasped, sliding off the couch.
It certainly wasn't unimaginable to think of Petunia sleeping around. It wasn't as if she truly had any particular set of morals, and the only object of value in her heart, for indeed it was an object that she treasured, was the corpulent diamond that would soon sit on her ring finger. Travesty it was that drove Petunia Evans down her path in life. It was that travesty that would taint the girl with unhappiness. And it was that unhappiness that she would feel as she died.
Rubbing her eyes with fatigue, she padded softly across the carpet and up the stairs. All she wished for was a little bit of peace in her lonely, cold world. Alas, she wasn't so lucky.
"I've gotta pack," she told herself quietly.
Lily sat down slowly on the maroon seat in the scarlet train. It was late in the day that Lily arrived on the train. However, she happened to be right on time. It seemed that the holiday train ran now on a different schedule than the summer train. Lily sighed. Dumbledore seemed to think it would be *magical* for those who stayed at school to wake up to a full dorm one day when they went to sleep in an empty one.
It seemed pointless to her.
It was dark and dull in the big, empty compartment. Her trunk only took up so much room. She should have bought that cat. Damn. She breathed in. Oh, god, it was time to sleep. So she lay her head onto her shoulder and prepared to end her world for a little while, at least.
Yet it seemed that god was not ready for her to find such a treat.
The door slammed open with a bang.
"Brilliant!" A voice announced.
The voice was undeniably male. It was rather deep, but only in the most fitting way. It was soft and kindly, but Lily knew just how crude the boy could be, with the expressions of that soft kindly voice in particular. This boy was a boy that Lily hated.
She blinked in frustration.
"A little dreary, but that'll do okay"
Lily grunted. "Can you go now?"
The boy blinked. "Lily, love," he gasped happily, causing her to roll her eyes.
"Potter," she said with a nod of recognition.
He nodded his head attentively.
"Well, can you?"
"What?"
Lily let out a great heave, throwing her hands in the air.
"Go," she said, "Are you going to go?"
"Go to sleep, baby," he whispered.
She grunted and let her head fall backwards.
"If I weren't so tired I'd curse you."
"I know."
It was late when Lily woke.
Well, woke wasn't really even the half of it.
*Woken*, would be more fitting. The boy, Potter she called him, was the raison d'être.
Potter kept his eyes fixed so unblinkingly on Lily. True, she was very pretty with her dark red curls and aqua eyes. She looked good enough, and her face was quite lovely. But it was unnatural for her to have admirers. She wasn't a very remarkable witch. She was just a virginal prefect with prettier-than-usual looks.
Potter just didn't understand that.
What Lily woke to was eyes, so very close to hers.
Lily wasn't claustrophobic, she was just Catholic. She believed in propriety, and trust and love before sex. But Lily Evans had thrown the rulebook out the window. Hadn't she?
"Sorry," he said quickly.
She shook her head, her trashed rulebook in mind. "It's okay."
His look was a questioning one.
He knew well enough that she hated him. Everybody did. It was a well-known fact that Lily would readily kill the boy, torn limb from limb one chunk at a time. After all, it had only been two weeks ago that she had kicked him where, Lily coughed, the sun don't shine.
He swallowed in painful memory.
"Well, let's sit then."
She nodded.
"It's late, you know,"
"Yeah, so?"
"I do like to sleep." She paused. "You know, that thing normal people do at night?"
"That's funny. I thought they shagged."
"Only in your twisted imagination,"
"With you, no doubt,"
No doubt," she agreed instantly, only to meet his sparkling gaze a moment later.
"Or in Sirius' reality,"
Lily giggled a giggle that sounded like golden bells.
"You call that reality?' she asked. "Because I call it a constant high. Really, James, what does that boy smoke?"
He grinned. "You want some?" He paused, slowly processing her words. "You called me James."
"I know."
AN: Please people, review! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! You know that little
blue box down there? It loves you.
*We, the simple mortals of the world, do not decide life. It is not at our command no matter how much we wish it to be.*
Lily woke the next morning on the coffee-colored couch. It was lit with the morning sun, and it was oh-so comfy. Comfy would be the word, Lily thought to herself, her mind still muddled with sleep. It was almost too comfy to wake, she recognized as she lifted her eyelids.
And then the light struck and it all came rushing back.
*"You took me, Alex, and I'll never forgive you for that."*
It seemed to be a bit shady to leave the couch at such a time. It seemed inappropriate. But then, hadn't she only just thrown the rulebook out the window?
Lily groaned into her arm. His was so stupid. Who cared if she screwed some half-assed priest? She coughed unhappily. Unless he fucked up her entire life in doing so. It was still so fresh in her mind, the way he stole her soul. What she couldn't understand, though, was if in taking her spirit, did he turn himself into Satan?
Then a sudden thought struck her. What if she was pregnant? In a moment of sympathy in his malevolent ways, perhaps he had tried to give her something in return for her attentions. God, would that be tragic. After all, she *did* have a reputation and it absolutely could not be ruined. With a small nod she made a pact with herself: if she were pregnant, she wouldn't be pregnant for long.
A door creaked open on the floor above.
"Verny, you have to go!" a vile voice shrieked through a cluster of high-pitched giggles.
A low voice grunted. "Just once more, love. I'll leave if you suck me off just once more. C'mon, Petty,"
Verny? Petty? Suck off?
"EWW!"
Lily tensed so greatly she feared she might have condensed. This was SO not right. Could That really be Petunia Evans up there with Vearon, or Varan, or whoever in hell he was. Did he actually spend the night at her house, Lily's house? Was that even possible?
A clatter could be heard as someone scuttled to the stairs. And then there was a crash, a groan and a "Vernon! Look, I'll help. Just pull them up. I'll button them up."
Vernon. That was right.
A second passed. "Oh, god," she muttered to herself. "Tune, can your boy-toy, Verona or whatever, try and not be so *loud*? I was trying to sleep down here." Then she blanched as she heard a small moan. "I suggest you stop doing," she paused, scrunching her nose up, "whatever you're doing; I'm coming up."
There was a brief clomping on the floor and then a door slammed.
"Ugh! Thank you, god," Lily gasped, sliding off the couch.
It certainly wasn't unimaginable to think of Petunia sleeping around. It wasn't as if she truly had any particular set of morals, and the only object of value in her heart, for indeed it was an object that she treasured, was the corpulent diamond that would soon sit on her ring finger. Travesty it was that drove Petunia Evans down her path in life. It was that travesty that would taint the girl with unhappiness. And it was that unhappiness that she would feel as she died.
Rubbing her eyes with fatigue, she padded softly across the carpet and up the stairs. All she wished for was a little bit of peace in her lonely, cold world. Alas, she wasn't so lucky.
"I've gotta pack," she told herself quietly.
Lily sat down slowly on the maroon seat in the scarlet train. It was late in the day that Lily arrived on the train. However, she happened to be right on time. It seemed that the holiday train ran now on a different schedule than the summer train. Lily sighed. Dumbledore seemed to think it would be *magical* for those who stayed at school to wake up to a full dorm one day when they went to sleep in an empty one.
It seemed pointless to her.
It was dark and dull in the big, empty compartment. Her trunk only took up so much room. She should have bought that cat. Damn. She breathed in. Oh, god, it was time to sleep. So she lay her head onto her shoulder and prepared to end her world for a little while, at least.
Yet it seemed that god was not ready for her to find such a treat.
The door slammed open with a bang.
"Brilliant!" A voice announced.
The voice was undeniably male. It was rather deep, but only in the most fitting way. It was soft and kindly, but Lily knew just how crude the boy could be, with the expressions of that soft kindly voice in particular. This boy was a boy that Lily hated.
She blinked in frustration.
"A little dreary, but that'll do okay"
Lily grunted. "Can you go now?"
The boy blinked. "Lily, love," he gasped happily, causing her to roll her eyes.
"Potter," she said with a nod of recognition.
He nodded his head attentively.
"Well, can you?"
"What?"
Lily let out a great heave, throwing her hands in the air.
"Go," she said, "Are you going to go?"
"Go to sleep, baby," he whispered.
She grunted and let her head fall backwards.
"If I weren't so tired I'd curse you."
"I know."
It was late when Lily woke.
Well, woke wasn't really even the half of it.
*Woken*, would be more fitting. The boy, Potter she called him, was the raison d'être.
Potter kept his eyes fixed so unblinkingly on Lily. True, she was very pretty with her dark red curls and aqua eyes. She looked good enough, and her face was quite lovely. But it was unnatural for her to have admirers. She wasn't a very remarkable witch. She was just a virginal prefect with prettier-than-usual looks.
Potter just didn't understand that.
What Lily woke to was eyes, so very close to hers.
Lily wasn't claustrophobic, she was just Catholic. She believed in propriety, and trust and love before sex. But Lily Evans had thrown the rulebook out the window. Hadn't she?
"Sorry," he said quickly.
She shook her head, her trashed rulebook in mind. "It's okay."
His look was a questioning one.
He knew well enough that she hated him. Everybody did. It was a well-known fact that Lily would readily kill the boy, torn limb from limb one chunk at a time. After all, it had only been two weeks ago that she had kicked him where, Lily coughed, the sun don't shine.
He swallowed in painful memory.
"Well, let's sit then."
She nodded.
"It's late, you know,"
"Yeah, so?"
"I do like to sleep." She paused. "You know, that thing normal people do at night?"
"That's funny. I thought they shagged."
"Only in your twisted imagination,"
"With you, no doubt,"
No doubt," she agreed instantly, only to meet his sparkling gaze a moment later.
"Or in Sirius' reality,"
Lily giggled a giggle that sounded like golden bells.
"You call that reality?' she asked. "Because I call it a constant high. Really, James, what does that boy smoke?"
He grinned. "You want some?" He paused, slowly processing her words. "You called me James."
"I know."
AN: Please people, review! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! You know that little
blue box down there? It loves you.