THC Year 8, Round 7

House: Slytherin

Class: Potions

Category: Drabble

Prompt: (First Line) She opened the book and began to read; the storm was just beginning. (Alts: She: He/They/I/Name/We. Opened: Open/opens. Began: Begins. Storm was just beginning: storm had just begun.)

WC: 588

Beta: Ash Juillet, DaughteroftheOneTrueKing, bea writes

A/N and Warnings: None

She opened the book and began to read; the storm was just beginning. There was a rumble of thunder, and she sunk into the couch, flicking her wand towards the fireplace to get it burning. Storms like this one seemed to excite people into acting irresponsibly, and she had lived on this mountain long enough to know that she was waiting for the crackle of the radio or fire call telling her she needed to rescue someone who overestimated their ability to navigate the stormy mountains.

Potion-ingredient hunters thought they were smarter than nature. Over the last few days, Lily had many a call from a lost wizard foraging for rare mountain ingredients that only revealed themselves beneath the stormy clouds. She settled herself for the wait; there was always someone who needed her and her ability to find them. People who, like her, weren't a fan of the holiday season at all, she had come to find out.

Some magical children had their magic manifest in explosions and miraculous saves, while Lily's had come to her in the form of being able to find lost things: from dainty earrings dropped in the Great Hall to tracking down people who didn't want to be found. It was a useful job, and as a Potter, she was allowed to be whatever she wanted to be—even though Albus and James complained that she only worked holidays to get away from them. It was a half-lie; she loved her brothers—even their stupid Christmas pranks.

Lily didn't deny the rest of it though. The holidays had always been a lot for her: too many eyes and expectations. And while she adored her family, her work allowed her to isolate herself in the most overwhelming season of the year. People lost themselves a lot in Lily's mountains during the holidays, and all she had to do was wait for them to ask her for help. She felt useful, and when she did go back home, everyone was always so grateful to have her back that they didn't bother asking deep, invasive questions about her life that she couldn't answer.

There weren't a lot of Christmas decorations in her room, apart from the obligatory tree and the stack of holiday books Aunt Hermione gifted Lily every year. Lily dunked a gingerbread cookie into her warm, milky hot chocolate before chomping off its head. She turned the page of her novel, engrossed by the descriptions of beaches and cruises.

Almost, as if Magic itself was whispering to her, her radio went off. Lily dropped her book, adrenaline rushing through her, this was the moment she lived for. Her gingerbread man fell to the floor as she jumped up, patting her back pocket for her wand. Lily could hear her mother scream at her about her poor organisation skills. She ignored the judgemental voice as she grabbed a windbreaker and thick dragon-hide boots. She had lost people to find.

And she found them, relatively easily. The idiots she called her brothers had come to her with a basket of Christmas food in hand.

"I was not going to listen to Uncle Percy alone," James said, settling into Lily's chair, waving his wand over Lily's, now cold, hot chocolate.

Albus nodded. "You need us more, besides Scorpius is spending the holidays with his dad."

Lily was surprised at how much this unwelcome effort meant to her, not that she would ever admit it to her brothers. Sometimes it was nice to be with family on the holidays.