Note: I changed the order of the chapters. If you've read this fic already, it's chapter one that's got the new content.
Chapter Three: Growing Into Herself
Twelve moments of who Lily was growing up. Remember that Petunia was shallow, greedy, and spiteful. She and Lily were raised by the same parents. This isn't bashing, it's an exploration of her imperfections, her humanity.
I.
She'd spent a very long time feeling rather extraordinary.
Her parents were always on about it. Bragging to the neighbours, while harping over them behind closed doors. Mrs Gosling's roses looked lovely, but monocultures were terrible, really. Mr Heron was obviously cheating, or working too many hours—Mr and Mrs Evans never could agree which was the worse crime.
And the Rahmen family across the tracks, always smelling of odd, foreign things. (It was downright criminal!)
Petunia and Lily were the only exceptions.
You have the most lovely singing voice, Pet, their mother would praise.
Oh Lily, you're the most beautiful in all the neighbourhood, I'll be fighting away the boys when you grow up, their father would say.
It became a competition between the two sisters. Who could be the best, the most, shine the brightest.
And one day a letter came, the fateful parchment delivered by owl, just like Sev had said it would.
(How extraordinary! How magical! Oh, our most special Lily-flower.)
Petunia had turned up her nose and harumphed.
II.
Lily had always loved being at the centre of attention. She worked hard for it, of course she did. But perhaps, she'd had it easier than most.
Life was easier for beautiful people, and Lily had always known she was beautiful. She basked in their compliments, their attention, their admiration. (Even in this place full of special people, she stood out.)
Things were good, as they very well should be.
III.
It hurt at first, the rift that had grown between her and Tunia. Their letters grew ever shorter and snippier until they stopped writing altogether, neither quite sure who was pointing fingers at whom—or perhaps it had been mutual? (What was the point, anyway, in trying to maintain what had obviously broken?)
Lily was part of the magical world now, a world Tunia didn't belong in. A world their parents didn't belong in, nor all their neighbours, muddling through their inane lives of gossip, affairs and late hours at the office.
The new cars and rose bushes held no concern for Lily. After all, she was a witch.
She had magic.
IV.
James Potter seemed to have had a crush on her from the very first day on the train. He was a pompous arse, of course, and as her mother would have said, far beneath her notice.
His gifts weren't unwelcome, though. It was nice to have someone willing to spoil and pamper her, defend her worth to all the other snobbish purebloods with their talk about muddying ancient lines.
She didn't think of it as leading him on. It was only normal for someone bright and beautiful and special to have admirers. (She deserved no less.)
So she dropped him a smile here and a touch there, just enough to keep him interested. But every time he asked for more she said no, because her mother had always told her, the secret to a successful marriage is to have him wrapped around your little finger.
V.
Severus had been her first best friend. Yes, she'd had friends before. At school, and in the neighbourhood—but they had been different, never like this. Severus was brilliant, and she loved how he was willing to share it all with her. (His passion for potions. His knowledge of magic. His sharp tongue and how he'd tear into others to make her laugh.)
She tried to maintain their friendship despite being in separate houses at Hogwarts. Every summer they'd rekindle it, clinging tightly to the feeling of not being mundane like the rest of Cokeworth.
She was older now, too old to mind her mother's admonishments about his poor social standing and her father's grumbled, I don't like how he looks at you.
Lily was brilliant and beautiful (and possibly vain). It was only right for everyone to look.
VI.
Something happened that winter, in their OWL year. Severus wouldn't stop going on about how Potter and his friends were dangerous, monstrous. (Animals.)
The Gryffindors meanwhile seemed to have grown up, almost overnight. They were suddenly careful, and respectful, and stood up for righteous things just like good Gryffindors should.
Severus drifted further towards the wrong crowd, the ones who would whisper mudblood just loud enough for her to hear.
Lily agreed to go on a Hogsmeade date with Potter as a reward for him getting better, and as a punishment for Severus. (She was winding him carefully, bit by bit, around the same pinky she'd made him promises with as a child.) Severus just scowled and went his own way.
All of them basked in their own self-righteousness.
VII.
It came as a surprise to all of them, when James strung Severus upside down and proceeded to take off his underwear.
In her fury at being called that, Lily even enjoyed it, just a tiny bit. The Schadenfreude simmered comfortably under her skin, whispering sweet nothings. (He isn't a real friend—he's already betrayed you. You deserve better.)
Afterwards she felt awful, and she made sure not to talk to James Potter for the next term.
But it was almost like nobody cared about her grief, or her anger.
Lily hadn't considered that they didn't even notice.
VIII
When she was made Head Girl alongside James Potter she knew what she had to do. There were expectations, after all.
As her childhood had been about having the most carefully pruned facade, so she finally learnt to grow into her own. The next time James asked her out on a date, she said yes. And at the end of a lovely walk in Hogsmeade she led him to a secluded spot beneath a happy willow, closed her eyes and let him kiss her.
Lily graduated with eight NEWTs, all Es except for her Os in Potions, Charms and Herbology.
James introduced her to his parents, and she did the same for him.
(When he asked for her hand, she said yes.)
IX
When James' parents succumbed to Dragon Pox she offered to postpone the wedding. James made some joke about life going on, and insisted on Mabon. A time of balance, and celebration of things finally coming to fruit.
She stroked her belly carefully at the thought, wondering at the possibilities of a life within her.
A perfect existence, with a picket fence and two children happily climbing the apple trees that grew in the garden of their newly-purchased cottage.
(They had argued about the colour of the sofa and where to keep the plates and who should do the dishes.)
Their wedding was beautiful and the honeymoon was spectacular.
X
When Harry was born Tunia showed up, brandishing a small stuffed bear. Lily was pierced immediately by guilt—she didn't even remember the name of Tunia's son, who was riding along in a stroller and building up a spectacular wail. Dean? Diggy? Diddy?
Tunia excused herself to comfort her child, and Lily—exhausted from giving birth—drifted off to sleep.
Her shame had her baking a cake a few weeks later, wanting desperately to build bridges. She drafted a letter to Severus as well, asking for forgiveness.
Her pride kept her from delivering either one.
XI
The letter reached her a week late, hidden as they were under the Fidelius.
Her parents, gone. Just like that.
Tunia probably blamed her. (Lily blamed herself, too.)
This world of magic had brought her nothing but pain.
James, frantic with pent-up energy from being confined to the house.
Alice, unable to meet now that they were both in hiding.
The four Gryffindor boys who had been thick as thieves now at each other's throats, dripping with distrust.
Severus and Petunia, lost to pettiness and jealousy.
In her arms her baby blinked blue-green eyes and gave its first bumbling smile. Lily wiped the tears that had fallen down onto Harry's face and held him tight.
XII
Take Harry and run!
There was spellfire in their back garden. The Dark Lord himself was coming in through the front. Clutching her baby to her chest in a futile move, she went the only place left—up.
Harry gurgled something (Dada da mim) as she set him in his crib. Albus had placed wards here, some kind of protective magic as a last line of defence. Blood magic, he'd whispered conspiratorially, and winked.
She nicked her own thumb and smeared sowilo across her baby's forehead—it vanished in a flash of light just as the door opened slowly, ominously.
She hadn't even heard him coming up the steps.
Tears were pricking in her eyes, but her magic was spent, poured entirely into Harry's protections.
She knew it would never be enough. This was pointless, all of it.
Lily spread her arms out, placing herself between Dark Lord and her son. The sob bubbled out of her, and she knew it was over, wished she could have granted Harry a final Mummy loves you.
Instead her last words echoed with quiet futility. Not Harry, take me instead.
And then, as painless as they all said that fateful green light was meant to be, she was gone. Just like that.
Her face was frozen in a mask of horror.
Day 7 of an update a day this December. Bookmark me for more or just check back later. Thank you for reading.