Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
Chapter 2: Self Discovery
When things stabilized again Harry and his friends found themselves in an unfamiliar house where two young girls were arguing over a pink sweater. Though the onlookers knew they had to be sisters, they never would have guessed it if they'd come across them on the street. One had a head full of unruly red curls while the other had stick straight brown hair swinging from its ponytail. The redhead was freckled with dimples and what might have been a sweet smile if she had not been gritting her teeth while pulling on the stretching bit of material. The other girl was taller and skinnier with a long, grim face. She seemed altogether incapable of smiling or laughing or being pleasant.
"Give it back!" Lily whined, tugging on the sweater.
"I don't care if it's yours or not! Pink would look hideous on you with that horrid red hair. Give it to me, I want it!" Harry was seriously reminded of Dudley as Petunia whined and shouted and tugged with all her might.
"This was a birthday present! And I don't care if it looks funny with my hair, I like pink!" Lily cried, beginning to worry that her sweater would be un-wearable after all the stretching.
"Girls! What's going on in here?" A woman Harry had never seen before called over the din, stepping into the room. She had long wavy auburn hair, not nearly as red as Lily's, but much more pleasant than Petunia's. Harry stepped forward to look at her more closely, guessing that this was his grandmother.
"Mu-ummm," Petunia cried in a whiney voice.
"Oh fine, just have the stupid sweater. You've ruined it anyways," Lily said with a scowl, crossing her arms and turning her back on her sister. Petunia gathered the pink sweater in her arms and started to run up to her room.
"Petunia Louise Evans you drop that sweater right now. You know that was Lily's birthday present and you have your own clothes to wear." Mrs. Evans said with a sigh; her arguing daughters had been causing her extra stress lately and she hoped it was just a phase they would outgrow quickly.
"Fine, here you go, you little freak," Petunia said, throwing the sweater at Lily's back before running upstairs. "Freak" would become one of Petunia's favorite words to call her sister after they all found out, but now it was used unknowingly. Sure, Lily had sometimes seemed different, but there was nothing overtly weird about her. In fact, she was quite popular and had many friends. Even the boys had started to notice her, much to Petunia's chagrin.
Lily kept her arms crossed, refusing to acknowledge Petunia's snide comment.
"Lily, you've got some mail dear." Her mother said handing her a thick envelope. Lily looked at it curiously, turning it over in her hands. It was thick not just because it contained many sheets of paper, but because it was made of a rough parchment. The writing looked like calligraphy made with one of those old-fashioned quills, rather than a ballpoint pen and there was an unfamiliar seal on the back saying something in another language-Latin she supposed. She immediately thought there was must be a mistake, but it was very clearly addressed to her.
"Where's the stamp?" She asked her mother curiously, who was folding the stretched out sweater carefully.
"I haven't any idea. Perhaps one of your friends just ran by and dropped it in the mailbox. Maybe it's a party invitation," Mrs. Evans responded. Lily murmured her agreement, though she really didn't think that was the case at all. She opened the envelope carefully and pulled out several sheets of paper. Harry edged closer so he could read the letter, though he assumed it was the same as the one he'd gotten. He was surprised to see that it actually quite different. The first page, for instance, was a very long letter from Dumbledore. Harry looked over at Hermione, wondering if she'd received a letter like this as well. From the knowing, sympathetic smile on her face, he imagined that she did. It read:
Dear Miss Evans,
I hope this letter finds you well, without your dear older sister Petunia giving you too hard of time. I have some rather disturbing news so I suggest you sit down. I'm not sure if you've guessed it by now, but you are a witch. Please do not be alarmed. I assure you that there is a whole society of functioning witches and wizards right out of sight of most Muggles (what we call non-magical folk, don't worry, you'll get the lingo in no time at all). From the day you were born, your name has been on a list of magical children, and now is the time to ask you to join our lovely school, Hogwarts. I understand this is probably quite the shock (unless of course, you actually did guess it) so I would like to come over and explain some things to you and your parents. This is not a prank of any sort, you must understand. I was thinking of stopping by this afternoon actually. Is now a good time? Ah, wonderful. See you soon,
Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
The doorbell rang all of a sudden and Lily gasped, forgetting the rest of the sheets of parchment clutched in her hand. She stared in shock at the letter and then the door and then back to the letter. Her mother was beginning to open the door when she came to her senses.
"No mum! Don't open it!" Lily cried, rushing forward.
"And heaven's why not?" Mrs. Evans asked, surprised at Lily's erratic behaviour.
"Because it's a madman!"
"Lily! What in the world are you talking about?"
"Look Mum! It's him, the person who sent the letter. And he's nuts!" Lily continued to shriek, her face turning as red as her hair. Lily shoved the letter into her mother's hands who scanned it over, turning a strange color of green as she read.
"I really think we ought to let him in," she mumbled weakly. Lily cringed as her mother yanked open the door to reveal the strangest looking man she'd ever seen. Seeing a barely younger Dumbledore standing in the doorway, so alive, so triumphant, made Harry gasp, but he figured he'd probably be seeing a lot of him as his mother's memories wore on, so he gulped down his tears and continued watching.
"Mrs. Evans," Dumbledore said as he nodded hello to her. He turned those infamously twinkling eyes on the younger girl in the room. "And Lily, it is so nice to meet you. And to think we all thought you would outgrow your red curls," he said with a laugh. Mrs. Evans managed a weak smile, avoiding Lily's eyes.
"Excuse me?" Lily said, hands on hips. None of the onlookers were quite sure if she was saying this to Dumbledore or her mother.
"Lily, Mr. Dumbledore has been here before. He came a few days after you were born." Mrs. Evans told her.
"Are you saying you believe him? You've let him in our house before and never found it important to tell me? He is INSANE Mum!" Lily cried, ignoring the fact that Dumbledore was still in the room. Of course he wasn't fazed by this though, he was just standing there whistling a bit, hands in his pockets, and rocking back and forth on his heels.
"Lily, please calm down. You are a witch," her mother said quietly.
"No you're a witch!" Lily shouted, grabbing a vase full of tulips from a stand in the front hall and hurling it at the wall behind her mother. Everyone not actually present laughed at the ferocity of Harry's eleven-year-old mother.
"Oh Lily, please stop," Mrs. Evans cried, bending over the shards of glass.
"No worries Elizabeth, I'll get it," Dumbledore said, repairing the vase with a wave of his hand and returning it safe and sound to the stand. Elizabeth. Harry's grandmother's name was Elizabeth. He thought it was a very lovely name and wondered if he could possibly name his first daughter that, if he lived that long. The thought made him reach over and squeeze Ginny's hand, who was watching with amazement at the scene unfolding. Lily, who'd been staring in surprise, finally managed to piece a sentence together.
"What the bloody hell," she mumbled.
"Ladies, if you'll follow me, I think we better migrate to the living room. I'll get us some tea and you, Lily, can ask me anything you want." Once settled in the living room with steaming cups of tea that had appeared out of thin air, Dumbledore explained everything to Lily. He even indulged her by conjuring flowers, pulling a rabbit out of a hat, and making the pictures of Petunia on the mantle temporarily disappear, though he assured her that the type of magic she would be learning was much less Houdini and much more Merlin in style. After several hours and countless cups of tea, Lily Evans was finally convinced…she was a witch.
A/N: Well, this chapter is at least longer than the last one, so that's good right? Thank you so much to those who have already reviewed! I adore you all. Please keep letting me know what you think of it!