So I just want to say I own nothing…well, nothing that has to do with Harry Potter. And I want to thank my good friend and beta-er VegaVarekai.
Chapter Four: In Which Lily Meets Someone She Doesn't Expect
July 18, 1978
Getting Ready in My "Room"
The Crack of Dawn, 5:30 am
So, after finally getting to sleep after an almost an all-night rehearsal dinner, I was awoken by the sweet melodious voice of my sister, screeching my name to bring her something to eat.
Something low in sodium, (No swelling)
Something that won't make her gain water weight
Something without sugar…blah, blah, blah!
So basically she wants dry toast. So I'll be making that shortly.
Oh and she wants tea.
No, she now wants coffee.
July 18, 1978
The Hall
5:41
No. Tea.
July 18, 1978
The Hall
5:43
No, no. She changed her mind again, coffee.
July 18, 1978
The Hall
5:46
DAMN IT PETTY! I'll just bring her both!
I can tell right now, Dearest Diary, this day is going to be hell…
July 19, 1978
My "New" Room
1:30 am
Am I right, or am I right?
That's correct dearest diary, I am right.
This day was Hell. Hell with a capital H! And, not even for the reasons that I originally thought!
How, I ask you HOW, did he show up at the wedding!
HMMMM? Someone? ANYONE!
What am I talking about, you ask? Who is this elusive He?
He is Potter. Stupid, wonderful, handsome James Farking Potter.
DAMN HIM!
I guess I should start from the beginning.
So I helped Petunia with the whole hair/ make up/ squeeze me into this dress sphele (even after she chucked her toast at me and yelled "NO CARBS!" She did NOT say no carbs! I can still see her eye twitching, not pretty.).
Then I got dressed as did Mum and Mrs. Dur. Then me, Mum, The Blushing Bride, and Mama Dursley piled into the car and we sped to the church, with only FIVE HOURS to spare!
AHH! Only five hours! Are we going to make it! Speed mum, SPEED!
Oh and it was raining. No, that's an understatement…it was torrential down pouring. With thunder.
And lightning.
And Hail.
Ok so there wasn't really hail. I may or may not have been exaggerating on that…ok I was exaggerating.
And did you know that it's good luck for it to rain on your wedding day? That's complete bollocks in my opinion. I mean, I would rather have a sunny wedding day…but that might just be me. I bet it's only "good luck" to comfort the bride…
Well, judging by the amount of rain that was coming down, I would hazard a guess that God, or Merlin, blesses this marriage…so—full-steam ahead.
So we got to the church and parked in the farthest part of the parking lot that it is possible to park in.
Why you ask? Well because my mother is daft and believes that the extra seventy-five feet we're going to have to run (through the rain) to get inside will do us good.
But luckily, there was a big, black, bride-sized umbrella in the car! It was huge! Massive! And it could cover up to three people comfortably! Did you notice I said three people? How many were in the car, dearest diary?
That's right. There were four people in the car. And, apparently, they all drew straws as to who was the one left out from under the umbrella. And guess what? I drew the short straw.
The short straw is bad...just as a reference.
So while Petty was huddled under the enormous rain-deflector, keeping dry and perfect, I was made to strip out of my new favorite dress (haha) and run through the rain. I had to strip down to my knickers and bra, throw on a long shirt and run through the river pouring from the sky and into the church!
Let's think about this…we have two alternative options.
1) We could have parked closer to the church
or
2) We could have made two trips from the car under the umbrella so no one would have gotten wet.
But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! That makes too much sense and once again, idiocy prevailed. I love my family…but sometimes I wonder. Actually it was Mrs. No-Umbrella-For-You-Dursley who informed me that I was to run in the rain, just as Mum and Petty got out of the car. I knew she doesn't like me, but really!
So I had no choice but to run across the parking lot. By the time I got inside, my up-do was a complete soggy up-don't and my make-up was running down my face. Fan-bloody-tastic.
So I took down my hair and scrubbed off the clown face and started again. By the time I had finished we only had t-minus THREE HOURS until Zero Hour (which is to say the wedding). So all that was left to do was sit and wait.
I was sooooo bored. So Petunia sent me on a few productive trips to get her water, ice, tea…scotch. Yes it was very tense in that room. Once I couldn't take it anymore, I decided to wander around the church. People were already starting to file into the church pews. At two and a half hours before the actual wedding… What were they expecting? Was it rumored it to be a completely packed house? Were they told they wouldn't get a seat if they didn't come crazy early?
I dunno. As I walked up the aisle, checking for potential escape routes (just in case…for Petunia of course) I saw him.
Well, I thought I saw him. I couldn't actually be sure and I thought, maybe…(im)possibly my mind was playing tricks on me from a combination of boredom and lust, because I could have sworn I saw Potter. NO. It couldn't have been, I told myself. It must have been lack of food and all the tension…and maybe I was a bit snog deprived.
So I dismissed it as a ghost of my imagination and proceeded to check on Dur. He was beside himself with joy. How he was the luckiest man in England. NO! The world. A pity he would be receiving a new and …(and here he paused and looked directly at me) "interesting" sister-in-law.
Prig…looks like you can't have it all. Such is life, Dursley my friend.
And then it was time.
The entire wedding went off without a hitch, other than my hopelessly bedraggled state. It was rather sweet actually, if you'll allow me to get sentimental. Vernon and Petunia are practically made for each other: they're evenly matched in temper and goals and looks. The ceremony was also slightly hilarious with a hopewesswy wisping pwiest.
And then it was over, Ms. Petunia Evans became Mrs. Petunia Dursley and there was much rejoicing (yaaaaaaaaaay!). And then it was pictures. I was sent to retrieve something that Petty needed so urgently that the pictures couldn't be taken unless she had it…her faux diamond hair clips to hold her veil straight. And by the time I got back, I discovered that Petty had had the pictures taken without me.
Lovely. That's sisterly love at it's strongest.
Mum had them take at least one with me in it, but I think my eyes were closed. So the photographer took three more. Haha! Take that!
Onto the celebration supper!
My beef medallions were…decent. Ok they were boring. I wanted real steak! Not round little…things.
And then it was time for…the dancing.
Do you realize, dear diary, how depressing it is to be at a wedding single?
No? Let me describe.
A small wooden floor full of happily married or dating couples, dancing serenely together. They're hands held close, bodies touching, and smiles on their faces; love wafting in a cloud around them…it's completely sickening to one (namely me) who is alone and dateless.
And then it started. Some of Vernon's "wonderful" and conveniently single male cousins plopped their bottoms next to mine and struck up some conversation…or rather, what they constituted as conversation. Mainly, staring at my chest. Yep…none were exceedingly gorgeous and even if they were I do not want anyone staring intently at the space between my neck and lowest ribs. And then, they moved from staring and started hitting on me! OMG! We're family now! EW! GROSS! Not right and very, very wrong!
So as tactfully as I could, I excused myself and walked (ran/bolted/fled) from the room and headed for the terrace. I knew that they wouldn't follow me, judging by the size of their waistlines.
And it was on my way outside that I walked smack into someone very tall. I stopped (obviously), straightened, took a step back and looked up, ready to tell the idiot off (if it was one of Vernon's relatives) or apologize and mention that the cake has been laid out if it was one of my relatives.
But I completely lost my words as I looked up into the sparkling, lovely, deep, hazel eyes of James Potter. JAMES FARKING POTTER!
He looked down at me and smiled his half smile. Then he said, in that annoyingly confidant tone of his, "All right there Lily Evans?"
I think all that came out of my open gaping mouth was, "Fuhnuhganuggin."
Oh how elegant I can be. I am sure to dazzle him with my wits. So much for all that practice of witty banter I had put in.
His smile widened, and he looked me up and down. "Well, well… aren't you looking lovely in neon orange."
Oh crap. I wanted to sink into the floor, light on fire and be no more. That he should see me in this hideous dress with hopelessly disheveled hair was unthinkable.
Bugger bugger buggerem…
Yes, so I got all prideful and indignant and said, "What now Potter? Crashing weddings?"
"Oh no, Lily m'dear. I simply had to see you in this dress. I heard about its infamy and had to judge it for myself. And I must say…lovely."
I couldn't tell if he was being snarky and sarcastic, so I huffed and said...well, nothing. I just turned red. NORMALLY I would have had a very snappy comeback that would have- no doubt- put Potter in his place. But not so today.
And then, he took my hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it! My hand! His lips! His Lips TOUCHED My Hand!
And then he disappeared with a pop. Great, he passed his apparition test. Wonderful.
And then what, you ask. I just stayed out on the terrace until it was time to leave. Now I'm here, relating this, my deranged life, to you and being very confused. OH dearest Diary, I am soooo confused! If Potter… James hates me, why did he kiss my hand?
C'est magni-freakin'-fique if I do say so myself. And not in the good way.
July 19, 1978
My "new" Room
3:30 am
WHO TOLD POTTER ABOUT MY DRESS! I bet it was Lela! The traitor! She always goes on about how I should go out with Potter or shag him…or at the very least snog him. She wants details you see.
Fat chance, I never kiss and tell. Only to you, dearest Diary. But she doesn't know about my new change in attitude toward James…no one does or will. Not if I can help it at least.
July 19, 1978
My "new" Room
3:37 am
And how did he know where the wedding was?
July 19, 1978
My "new" Room
3:43 am
Merlin he looked gorgeous…NO! Stop it brain! That's it. It's time for bed. Good morning dearest Diary.
Keep my secrets.
I know you will.
Until Next Time, Keep a Sharp Eye ;)
Pupparoux