Disclaimer: anything you recognize herein belongs to J. . I am merely borrowing for my own amusement, and yours too. I hope.
Chapter Eighteen
The winter holidays couldn't have arrived soon enough. Lily didn't reckon she'd ever been so relieved to be on the Hogwarts Express, leaving the castle. Ever since the kiss and the start of Lily and James as a couple, not a moment had gone by she hadn't felt a pair of eyes on her or heard whispers. It was all anyone seemed to want to talk about. How had Lily Evans snagged James Potter and just what was he playing at? Was he having a laugh? Under an enchantment? Or had he simply taken one too many bludgers to the head over the years?
Lily had even caught Professor Glendower and Professor Silvers, who taught History of Magic, discussing it in the corridor between lessons. At least they'd had the decency to look ashamed by the withering glare Lily had sent them, so far it hadn't had an effect on anyone else.
Yes, it was quite a relief to be leaving it all behind for a fortnight. Perhaps the time away would allow the interest to die out.
One could always hope, at least.
"You look tired."
Lily looked away from the window and the landscape whizzing passed over to Remus, sitting opposite her in the train compartment. Coming from him, that remark struck Lily as amusing, as Remus often had a tired look about him.
"It's quite tiring to be in love," she said wryly.
"Especially to James," he quipped, causing Lily to smile and James to pipe in.
"What's this I hear? Jokes at my expense?" He looked up from his Quidditch magazine to glance between them. "Is that any way to treat a mate? And you, a boyfriend?"
"Probably not," said Lily, "but you stopped being that the moment the train pulled out of Hogsmeade station. As far as I'm concerned, winter holiday has officially begun and I'm off duty. And I fancy starting off my holiday with a nice, quiet train ride back home pretending you don't exist."
James reached over and tweaked her nose.
"It's so cute when you play hard to get, Lilykins," he cooed. He'd recently bestowed that pet name during a Prefects meeting, which he'd spent laying the act on thick for his new amusment.
"It'll be downright adorable when I jinx those fingers together, if you do that again, Lovemuffin," Lily shot back with a glower as she rubbed her smarting nose. He hadn't thought it so funny when she'd called him that while cheering him on from the sidelines of a morning Quidditch practice, although his teammates certainly had.
"Always full of threats of violence," James tsked, but he returned to his magazine and kept his hands to himself for the rest of their journey.
xxx
Several hours later the Hogwarts Express finally pulled into King's Cross station.
"I suppose I'll see you in a few days then. For the party," Lily said to James as they came to stand on the bustling platform.
"I suppose you will," he agreed.
She could have left it at that. Simply bid him goodbye and parted ways. Their fellow schoolmates were probably all too distracted at the moment to be paying any attention to them, but, still ... just in case-
"I'm going to miss you so much!" Lily cried, flinging her trunk aside and throwing her arms around James.
He froze, surprised, then relaxed, remarking dryly, "Bit much, don't you reckon?"
"I could sob dramatically," she offered into his chest.
"Best not," he advised. "I don't do well with crying. Pretend or otherwise."
She chuckled, "Fair enough." and released her death grip.
Picking up her fallen trunk, Lily wished Sirius, Remus and Peter, who'd joined them on the platform just in time for the little scene, a Happy Christmas and made her leave.
Breaking through the barrier that concealed the platform from the rest of King's Cross, Lily made a beeline straight for the nearest toilets.
A quick check under the stalls found them all thankfully empty. Locking the main door into the lavatory with a flick of the wrist, Lily stepped up to the sinks and set to work. Normally she would have done this on board the Hogwarts Express, but that hadn't seemed like a good idea this time around. Far too many prying eyes followed her now. Too many ears as well. She'd even intercepted her parents from meeting her on the platform like they always did, informing them the Ministry of Magic had employed new safety measures that barred any Muggles from crossing the barrier, as an extra precaution.
Transforming herself from Hogwarts Lily back to natural one was always a faster process than the other way around. Despite that, and her extra hurriedness though, knocks and shouting started up on the other side of the door.
Lily gave her reflection one last look over to make sure nothing had been left amiss before she unlocked the door and pulled it open. Several agitated, antsy looking woman and one stressed looking guard stood outside. The guard had been in the middle of barking something into his radio but stopped at the sight of Lily.
"What the - how'd you managed that?" he demanded, "Door was stuck shut!"
His face was quickly morphing from disgruntled surprise to narrow-eyed suspicion as he regarded her.
Lily blinked innocently.
"Was it? Opened right up for me," she said and quickly brushed passed before any more questions could be asked.
Doubling back to platforms nine and ten, Lily hung back and peeked out from around an arched opening. There were her parents standing by the barrier. She'd thought she'd seen them.
Her mother was keeping a watchful eye on the brick wall, her face pinched with an anxious, impatient expression as she said something to Lily's father. He replied in turn and took another drag of his fag, looking at ease as he waited.
Lily reached for the dungbombs in her pocket. She had nicked them from James for exactly this purpose. All she needed to do was toss a couple a safe distance away and wait for the scatter of people fleeing the stink cause a nice, momentary distraction for her parents, so she could slip out of her hiding spot.
Her plan went flawlessly. In fact, her parents were so distracted by the minor commotion taking place Lily had to call out to get their attention as she strode toward them pushing her trolley.
"Mum! Dad!"
They turned away from the scene, a gagging man passed behind them at a stumbling run, bewildered expressions still in place.
"Flower!" Her father's bearded face broke into a welcoming grin.
"Lily!" Her mother exclaimed, a mix of surprise and relief.
"Sorry about the wait," said Lily, as they exchanged hugs and kisses on the cheeks, "Bit overcrowded back there."
"We were beginning to worry," her mother said.
"One of us more than the other," her father winked.
Her mother sniffed.
"I don't care for these new rules -" she began but another voice drowned out the rest of her complaints.
"Right this way. Brace yourself. I'll be wanting to put in a proper complaint, mind you."
The gagging man was back.
He was speaking loudly from behind a handkerchief he had pressed to his face as he lead a familiar looking guard back to the spot where Lily had released the dung bombs.
"So!" Lily said quickly to her parents, "Shall we head off? Which ways the car?"
"Got a spot right out front," her father proudly replied, taking control of her trolley and beginning to lead the way. Which was thankfully in the opposite direction.
Lily made to follow but her mother put a hand on her arm, stopping her.
"Wait a minute, Lily." She glanced to check Lily's father was out of earshot, then leaned in and asked in a hushed voice, "You did remember, didn't you?"
Lily, who'd been checking on the guard over her mother's shoulder, paused and blinked blankly back at her. For a split second she had no idea what her mother was talking about, but then understanding dawned.
"In my trunk. Safe and sound," she reassured, a bit impatiently and a little bemused by the timing of the question.
"Oh, thank goodness." Her mother gave a breathy laugh of relief and released her arm.
Lily wasted no more time standing around. She was certain the guard had glanced her way and done a double take.
"I could've owled the dress back to you weeks ago," Lily said to her mother as they maneuvered through the station, after her father, "If I'd known you were so worried."
She'd known her mother hadn't been keen about sneaking Petunia's dress to her, but she hadn't thought she'd been agonizing over it.
"With my luck, it would've gotten ruined in transit, or been delivered to the wrong house or, heaven forbid, arrived back right in front of your sister. No," her mother said, "I have enough problems at the moment, thank you."
"Problems?" repeated Lily, curiously. "With Petunia?"
Her mother was usually far too much of a peacemaker for that.
"I want you put the dress back straight away when we get home. I'll keep your sister at bay," her mother added, ignoring Lily's question.
"I appreciate that Mum, but I hardly think Petunia'll be running to greet me," Lily pointed out wryly.
"None of that talk, Lily," her mother tsked. "I don't want any drama between you girls."
Lily swallowed back several comments in response to that.
"How is Petunia then?" she asked instead. The last time she'd seen her sister, Petunia had been sickeningly happy, having just gotten engaged to her boyfriend Vernon Dursley after a whirlwind romance. "Wedding plans coming along alright still? No second thoughts...?"
She'd only had the displeasure of meeting Vernon once. He had obviously been informed of Lily's being a witch and shared Petunia's views on the matter, given the way he'd behaved. Lily hadn't cared for him regardless. Nor the way Petunia had simpered over him all through dinner as he'd talked, giving long-winded, boring, pompous stories about his work and boasting about his new car, sprouting off a load of technical tosh Lily didn't think he had even understood. And she hadn't understood what her sister saw in Vernon Dursley.
Come to think of it now though, it may have been his embracing prejudice toward Lily.
"Lily," Her mother warned at the same time her father, still ahead of them but back within earshot, said, "Afraid not."
"Harold." Her mother shot a look of reproach at his back.
"Just a little joke, Violet."
Lily snickered.
"He makes Petunia happy," her mother huffily reminded them, not for the first time, "That's all that matters. And it should be reason enough for the both of you."
"I know, Mum," Lily soothed, "I was only teasing-"
"Well you're just going to have to keep your cheek in check, missy," her mother informed her. "I want a nice, happy Christmas."
"I'll do my best," said Lily solemnly.
"I find that statement lacking in reassurance," her mother said with a sidelong look at her.
"I will behave myself to the fullest extent," Lily intoned.
Her mother gave a satisfied nod, "That's better."
"Warranted under the circumstance, of course."
"Lily-"
"Here we are, then!" Her father interrupted brightly as they reached the car. "Give me hand with your trunk into the boot, won't you, love?"
xxx
It was a few hours drive from London to Lily's hometown of Cokeworth. Located in the Midlands, it was a relatively large village flanked by a woodsy area on one side, an immense chimney that puffed out grey and black smoke at all hours on the other, and was divided down the middle by a winding river. The cobbled streets that ran through were all narrow and full of the same brown brick terraced houses.
The Evans resided on Orsley road, at number 23, as they had since just before Lily was born. The last time she'd been home it'd been balmy September morning. The cluster of rosebushes beneath the front windows had still been in full bloom, their familiar scent freshening the breeze that otherwise held the faint rank from the river. Now the brambles held only ice and snow, and the frosty air carried the scent of woodsmoke.
"We're back!" Lily's mother announced as they all trooped into the foyer. "Petunia?"
"In the kitchen."
"I can hear the enthusiasm from here," said Lily, shucking off her heavy cloak.
"Shush. Nip upstairs now," her mother said, shooing her toward the stairs, "I'll go keep her in there."
Obliging, Lily dragged her trunk up the flight of stairs and down to the last door at the end of the landing. Entering her bedroom was always a bit like entering a times capsule that contained a hodge-podge of years past. Outdated wallpaper was dotted with taped up posters, her grandmother's quilt was spread over the bed, books, knickknacks, and old stuffed animals cluttered a set of shelves, and the dollhouse Lily and Petunia had gotten ten Christmases ago sat on a table in the corner. Though she had spent little time at home in the past several years, her room still had a distinctly lived-in feel to it, as if she had. The only crack in the illusion being a fine layer of dust if you looked close enough.
Setting her trunk in the spot under the window, Lily pulled Petunia's dress out and went to the room next door.
If Lily's bedroom exuded comfort and nostalgia, Petunia's held all the personality and sentiment of that of a guest bedroom. Save for the ode to Vernon Dursley that graced the dressing table (a few photos and letters tucked into the mirrors edge and a small, stuffed teddy bear propped against a vase holding a single dried rose), you'd never guess anyone had resided there daily for seventeen years.
Pausing at the dressing table, Lily inspected the photographs. Petunia and Vernon sitting together at a party. Petunia and Vernon posing together in a photo booth. Petunia and Vernon standing together on a pier at the beach.
As sisters, Lily and Petunia resembled each other very little each. Whereas Lily took after their father with the red-hair, green eyes and softly rounded features, Petunia looked more like their mother with her blonde hair, pale eyes and sharp, angular features. Except, of course, Petunia's were usually twisted into disapproving, hostile expressions.
Not here though. In these pictures, Petunia was all smiles, giddy and adoring.
Their mother was right. He really did make her happy.
Sticking her tongue out childishly at the Vernon in the photos, Lily turned away from the happy couple and pressed on with her task.
With Petunias dress safely hung in her wardrobe, Lily went back downstairs.
"There she is!" Her mother trilled loudly upon her entry into the kitchen bringing Lily to a pause.
Glancing between her mother and Petunia, who stood together near the stove, Lily got a sneaking suspicion she'd just interrupted a row, judging by her mother's too wide smile and sisters tensed shoulders.
"Here," Their mother announced abruptly, speaking to Petunia, "I'll take that." She plucked a steaming serving dish right out of Petunia's hands. "You say hello to your sister." And swiftly swept past Lily out of the kitchen.
Lily looked back at Petunia. She stood rooted to the spot, arms still raised, her eyes burning a hole in the door as it swung softly on its hinges in their mother's wake. The soft swish seemed to echo in the silence.
"Hi." Lily volunteered cautiously after a few moments.
"Hello..." Petunia returned in a slow, carefully controlled manner. Then she turned and began to busy herself at the stove, effectively dismissing her.
But Lily was used to this type of behavior and so she ignored it.
"Anything l can help with?" She offered pleasantly.
"No."
"Well, something smells good. Thanks for making dinner by the -"
"I'm practicing," Petunia cut her off sourly.
"Practicing?" Lily repeated.
"Cooking Vernon's favorites."
"That's good of you," said Lily kindly.
"I will be his wife soon enough," Petunia snapped, as though she had said something dimwitted.
"Speaking of which," said Lily breezily, "I heard the wedding plans have been coming among well. That's -"
"If by well," interjected Petunia testily, "you mean it's been extremely stressful, then yes, it's been going quite well."
Lily faltered.
"Oh." She frowned. "But Mum said-"
Petunia made a derisive sound.
"Haven't you learned by now not to believe everything Mummy says, Lily," she sneered patronizingly.
Lily stiffened.
"I don't have much of a choice in these matters. It's not as if you ever write to me," she shot back pointedly.
"Maybe I would," sniffed Petunia, "but your lot can't even do their post in a normal fashion."
"I seem to remember you know how to get around using owls to send a letter to Hogwarts when you want to, Petunia," Lily retorted coolly, temper flaring.
The oven door was slammed closed with a bang so forceful Lily reckoned the whole of England must've felt it. Petunia whirled around and Lily braced herself for a slew of bitter, nasty words. She even half expected the roast Petunia had pulled from the oven to be chucked at her head and prepaid to duck, but instead, Petunia, face looking thunderous, stormed out of the kitchen.
Lily let her defensive stance drop.
It had been a low blow, she knew, opening up that old wound. She wasn't meant to know about it in the first place. In fact, they'd been pretending for years she didn't. She was sure Petunia had convinced herself that it had never even happened. That she had not, seven years ago, written to Professor Dumbledore by Muggle post asking if she too could attend Hogwarts with Lily. Something Lily only knew because she had discovered Dumbledore's kind reply, explaining why he could not extend Petunia the same invitation Lily had received, hidden in Petunia's room not long after he'd sent it.
The first, and last time, Lily had brought up the letter she and Petunia had been arguing on platform nine and three quarters as Lily had prepared to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Petunia's reaction then to finding out Lily had found the letter had not been kind. It marked the first time she'd called Lily a freak and took up her subsequent stance against magic.
Lily was certain all of her sister's hostility and loathing toward the wizarding world, and Lily herself even, stemmed from that letter. It was a deep hurt for Petunia, one that she'd never come to terms with, and Lily had just poked it.
Lily released a sigh into the empty silence of the kitchen.
This was not shaping up to be a happy, quiet Christmas.
As she joined everyone in the dining room and took her seat at the table, her mother shot her a displeased, questioning look. Evidentally she had not, as Lily had hoped, gone momentarily deaf and missed Petunia's slamming of the oven door. Petunia's slouch and stroppy expression probably wasn't helping ward off suspicion either.
Lily pretend not to see the look. Or the next one, that said her mother would be having a talk with her about it later.
So after an uneventful dinner, where her mother had unsuccessfully attempted to rouse Petunia to join in the conversation, she shooed Lily's father and Petunia out to the living room saying she and Lily would take care of clearing the table and doing the washing up. Neither of them reached for a dish though.
"Care to explain," her mother began, surveying Lily from across the table, "what happened after I left you and Petunia alone in the kitchen earlier? What was that loud bang?"
Lily slouched back into her chair, folding her arms.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?!" Her mother echoed disbelievingly. "That was not nothing," she said leveling a look at her.
"Petunia lost her grip on the oven door," Lily grudgingly conceded.
Her mother huffed.
"I just don't understand why you girls can't get along."
"Speaking of not getting along," said Lily, "Why were you rowing with Petunia earlier?"
The question had been niggling at her throughout dinner. Petunia's icy silence had not just been directed at her.
"What?" Her mother snapped distractedly, pretending to have been preoccupied with angry, disappointed thoughts about her daughters.
"After we got home. You were rowing with Petunia in the kitchen before I came in," said Lily.
"I don't know what you're talking about," her mother shrugged off, standing up and beginning to collect dishes at random.
"Well," began Lily, undeterred, "A row is when you exchange unpleasantries with another person."
"There was no row," her mother said tetchily. Hands full of precariously stacked dishes, she headed for the kitchen.
"Disagreement, then," said Lily, following after her down the hall. "A quibble, perhaps...?"
"We're veering off topic," her mother said stiffly, shouldering open the door into the kitchen. "This isn't about me. This is about you and Petunia." She placed the dishes in the sink and turned on the tap. "You promised me you'd behave yourself around her Lily," she reminded her, in an accusatorily unhappy tone.
"I said I'd do my best," countered Lily, leaning her hip against the counter. "And she wasn't exactly making it easy," she pointed out.
"Of course she wasn't," her mother snapped, beginning to scrub at a plate vigorously. "But you need to rise above it."
"Like you are," said Lily shrewdly, folding her arms.
"Exactly," her mother agreed.
"So you did row," Lily said with satisfaction. "What about?"
Her mother scowled.
"Never you mind. You just worry about keeping your promise."
"What about Petunia?" asked Lily. "Did she make any such promise?"
"A nice, happy Christmas," her mother grumbled. "That's all I'm asking for. Is that so unreasonable?"
"It's not unreasonable, Mum," said Lily softening, "I'm just not sure it's realistic."
"It's our last Christmas together," her mother sniffed sadly, "just the four of us together, before everything changes. Petunia's getting married and moving away and before we know it you'll be done with school and putting yourself in danger out there, fighting that Voldymold..."
"Voldemort," Lily corrected, holding back a laugh. "And Petunia's moving to Surrey. Not out of country."
"You should be getting closer, not pushing each other away." Her mother turned to look at her, suddenly imploring. "I know Petunia's not the easiest, Lily, " she said, "Especially at the moment. I know she starts things up, but, I also know you like to finish them. I'm asking for you to please just be the bigger person and keep your temper. Don't you reckon you could do that? Please? For me?" The reasonable tone and pleading eyes were a sneaky maneuver. "For Christmas?"
"For Christmas?" Lily repeated, raising a wry eyebrow. "Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you there, Mum?"
She huffed a reluctant, sheepish laugh. "A bit," she agreed. "I mean it though..."
"I know," sighed Lily. "And I will."
Her mother smiled softly.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Now, go clear the rest of the table and help me out here. I'll wash. You dry."
xxx
Later that evening, before Lily turned in for the night, she padded over to Petunia's room and rapt on the door.
"What?" came Petunia's petulant reply.
"It's me."
There was a pause.
"I'm sleeping."
"I'll be quick."
The door pulled open and Petunia stuck her head out. Her hair was half up in curlers.
"What is it then?" she demanded.
Lily took a moment to steady herself.
"I just wanted to say if there's anything I can do to help you with the wedding while I'm home, I'd be happy to."
Petunia narrowed her eyes at her.
"Has Mum put you up to this?" she asked suspiciously.
"No," said Lily, "I'm offering of my own free will. You did say it's been stressful," she reminded.
Petunia flattened her expression.
"Is that all?"
"No." Lily put her hand on the door to halt it's closing. "I was hoping we could agree to a seize fire. We both said some unkind things earlier and I took a bit further than necessary," she admitted, "But...well, you'll be getting married soon and starting a new life with Vernon and I'll be done with school and enrolling to be an Aur- er...a dark wi - ... a PC of sorts. And, well, it's our last Christmas together before it all changes...Isn't it?" Lily finished a bit lamely.
That had not gone as smoothly as her mother's little guilt trip. And her big eyes didn't seem to be impressing Petunia at all.
In fact, she seemed to be firing up with anger.
"I knew it," Petunia snapped, eyes flashing. "She did put you up to this. Well, you can run along and tell Mum I'm still in the middle of the last agreement we made and remind her that, as I already made perfectly clear earlier, it did not involve me having to be anything other than home."
And with that, she shut the door with a snap in Lily's face.
Lily rapt on the door.
"Go away."
She did it again.
"Petunia."
No reply.
"Petunia." She tried the door handle but found it locked. "Petunia," Lily hissed, rattling the handle and knocking loudly as she dared. She did not want to alert her mother to trouble again.
The door remained closed though and Petunia silent behind it.
"You know I can open this door," Lily threatened quietly through the keyhole.
"Don't you dare!" Petunia furiously cried.
"Do it yourself then."
The door swung open and Lily straightened up.
Petunia opened to her mouth, ready to spit what Lily was sure was to be something scornful, but Lily cut her off.
"What did you mean? What agreement with Mum?" she demanded curiously, "Does it have something to with what you were rowing about before dinner?"
"Another thing Mummy left out in her letters to you, Lily?" Petunia sneered, lifting her nose haughtily.
"It appears so," said Lily impatiently. "Care to fill me in?"
The corner of Petunia's mouth lifted in a smug smile. Apparently, Lily's keen interest appealed to Petunia's feelings of superiority because she actually answered.
"Vernon asked me to go away on holiday with him for Christmas. He wanted to take me to visit his sister Marge in the country. When Mum found out she went mad. Told me she'd stop payments for the wedding if I went. Well, Vernon's family can't cover the whole cost. And we certainly can't afford to pay half ourselves. So here I am then, at home, just what Mum wants," Petunia finished, her unhappiness returning.
"I'm sorry," said Lily earnestly. She could, after all, sympathize with being coerced.
"You should be," said Petunia. "It's your fault."
Some of Lily's sympathy faded.
"How do you reckon that?"
"Mum said it'd hurt your feelings if I'd gone off with Vernon and not been around when you were home. Nevermind my feelings. And of course," Petunia sniffed, "she's afraid you're going to go off and get yourself killed getting involved in that - that war you're lot has going on. That's what all that last Christmas stuff is about. Don't Mummy and Daddy give you enough attention already, Lily? Now you've had to go and make sure they're constantly worrying about their brave little hero?"
"Is this your plan then," Lily demanded, scowling, "If you have to be home you're going to be an absolutely miserable cow?"
"Mum said I had to stay home, she didn't say I had to pretend to be happy about it."
Once more Petunia shut the door in Lily's face.
This time though, Lily didn't knock on it. In fact, she was considering hexing the door permanently shut for the duration of her holiday. But that would probably not be in keeping with her promise to her mother, so instead, she kept her temper and simply walked away.
xxx
The next few days were a trying lot, to say the least. Lily found herself looking forward to the party more and more if it meant getting away from Petunia's misery and her mother's rallying cheer.
When the day finally arrived, as Lily stood in the kitchen fixing a morning kettle, an owl arrived. James's owl, Lily recognized once she'd allowed it in, and tied to the owl's leg was a large, squishy looking package wrapped in brown paper and red ribbon.
A gift? For her? From James?
Surprised and a little uncertain, Lily hesitated to take it and the owl gave an impatient hoot, shaking it's outstretched leg at her pointedly.
"Sorry," she apologized, quickly undoing the string around it, "Thanks."
The owl gave another hoot, a softer one this time, and took off. Lily shut the window and turned back to the kitchen, turning the package over in her hands thoughtfully.
"What's that you've got there, Lily?" Her mother asked from where she sat at the table, peeling potatoes for a fry up.
"A present."
"Who from?"
"James."
"James? The boy who's invited you to that big party tonight?" Her mother asked with renewed interest. "Well? Aren't you going to open it?" she prompted.
Spurred into action, Lily slipped the ribbon off and carefully tore back the wrappings, revealing a neatly folded bundle of silk.
"What is it?" Her mother demanded, bewildered as Lily began to laugh. "Why are you laughing?"
"He's-he's given me dress robes," she said between chortles.
"Dress robes?" Her mother repeated, cleaning her hands with a tea towel and coming over for a look.
"To wear to the party tonight," Lily explained, holding them up by the shoulders to show her.
"I don't see why that's so amusing. They're beautiful." Her mother eyed the robes appreciatively.
"Private joke," said Lily.
"So," her mother began, in a carefully casual tone that instantly put Lily on alert, "tell me more about this James."
"What d'you mean?" Lily asked, avoiding her mother's expectant gaze.
"Well, you didn't say much about him in your letter. Just that he's a bloke from school who's invited you to a party..."
"There's not more to say," shrugged Lily, busying herself with folding the robes back up.
"Surely there's more than that," her mother argued gently.
"Not really."
"That's an awfully generous present for just a bloke from school to give you, Lily."
"The Potters are well off," said Lily, brushing off the insinuation, "I'm sure James didn't think anything of it. And neither should you," she added with a pointed look at her mother. Who was watching her with a thoroughly unconvinced expression on her face.
"We're mates, Mum. That's all." Lily insisted firmly.
Her mother rose an eyebrow.
"Oh? Mates now, are you?"
"Mate-ish," amended Lily, "We're mate-ish."
"How interesting." A sly smile tugged at the corner of her mother's mouth.
Lily rolled her eyes.
"Stop it. It's not like that," she said.
"Not like what?" her mother asked innocently.
"Mum," said Lily with firm finality, "there is nothing going on between me and James."
"Are you certain?" she asked, still with that innocent, disbelieving tone.
"I'd reckon I'd know if there was!"
For a brief moment, it seemed Lily's indignance had settled the matter. But then -
"Do you reckon there could be though? In the future?"
"No," said Lily flatly.
Her mother looked surprised by the assertion.
"Why not? He seems like a very fine boy-"
"Because we're mates," Lily repeated, exasperatedly.
"Teenage boys really only have one thing on their minds, Lily, and being a mate isn't it," her mother informed her dryly.
"Mum," Lily sighed.
"Especially not with a pretty girl like you."
"James doesn't see me that way."
Her mother scoffed.
"Oh, Lily, please. Mark my words," she said, "That boy-"
"Does not fancy me!" Lily finished impatiently.
"Why else is he trying to impress you then?" countered her mother.
"Impress me?!"
Lily's mother softened under her mystified stare.
"Think it about it, Lily. The invitation to the party, the expensive gift...? Well, don't you see? He's wooing you."
"No, he's not!" Lily exclaimed, appalled.
"Lily-"
"He's not!"
"Why are you getting so upset?" her mother asked, bemused. "I should reckon it's flattering. This boy obviously fancies you -"
"Mum, James already has a girlfriend!"
That shut her up.
"He does?"
"Yes!"
"Oh." Her mother blinked. "That does change things then…" she murmured thoughtfully.
"Yes," agreed Lily smugly, "It does."
"I don't like the sound of this boy, Lily."
It was Lily's turn to blink now.
"What?"
"He has a girlfriend yet he's showing an interest in you?" Her mother gave a wary shake of the head. "This boy sounds like trouble, Lily."
"No, he isn't," she lied quickly.
"Maybe you shouldn't go to this party," her mother said thoughtfully. Her attention slid over the robes folded neatly on top of the torn wrappings on the counter. "And I suppose," she added regretfully, "you'll have to return those."
"I - what - no!" Lily spluttered. She snatched up the robes and hugged them to her chest. "I'm not returning them! And I'm going to the party!"
"I don't reckon it's a good idea, Lily," her mother said in a gently reasonable tone. "It just wouldn't be right under the circumstances. You'll be giving him the wrong idea. Getting his hopes up -"
"He doesn't have any hope."
"His actions speak otherwise."
"Mum," Lily implored her to listen to sense, "James is madly in love with his girlfriend. Head over heels, really! It's a bit pathetic, to be honest-"
"Boys who are madly in love with their girlfriends don't go around giving other girls expensive gifts and inviting them to parties," her mother retorted matter of factly.
"They do when it's thanks to me he's got a girlfriend in the first place!" Lily shot back.
Her mother frowned.
"What are you -"
"What's all this shouting about?"
Lily's father entered the kitchen.
"No one's shouting," her mother replied promptly, "Lily and I were just having a chat."
"Yes, we were just having a lively discussion here," snarked Lily.
"I see…" Her father glanced between them uncertainly. His eyes settled on the bundle of silk in Lily's arms. "What's that?"
"Dress robes." Lily lifted her chin defiantly. "I'm going to wear to the party tonight."
"James sent them," added her mother. "What do you reckon about that?" she aimed at Lily's father.
"Er - lovely!" He said brightly. "Is it not...?" he questioned apprehensively.
"I don't reckon they're very appropriate," her mother sniffed, folding her arms.
Lily's father looked back the robes thoughtfully.
"They look modest."
Lily snorted.
"As a gift," her mother emphasized. "For a boy to being giving a girl who isn't his girlfriend that he's asked along to a party…" she trailed off meaningfully.
"Ahah." Grim understanding dawned suddenly over her father's face.
"He just doesn't want me showing up in another one of Petunia's dresses!" Lily burst out exasperatedly.
"Lily!" Her mother hissed with panic, flapping her arms and looking back to the door as though Petunia had superhuman hearing and would come tearing into the kitchen.
"And don't reckon you can threaten me to stick around," Lily went on, ignoring her, "It won't work, seeing as I haven't got a wedding that needs paying for."
Her mother bristled, distress over mention of Petunia's dress instantly dissipating.
"Be that as it may," she said stiffly, "I'm still your mother and you're still my daughter-"
"Be that as it may," said Lily, "I'm an adult."
"You're seventeen-
"Legal age in the wizarding world."
"You're not in the wizarding world at the moment, you're in this one," her mother snapped. "And in this world, you are still my underage daughter I can very well tell what parties she can and can not attend!"
"I'm a witch!" shouted Lily, "The wizarding world is always my world!"
"Harold." Her mother rounded on her father. "Back me up here!"
"I'm afraid she's got you there, Violet." Upon a murderous look from his wife though Lily's father added quickly, "However, Lily, I reckon it'd do well to consider whatever points your mother's made against you going to this party."
"Fine," said Lily. "Despite the fact that they're all wrong, I'll consider them."
"That's all we can ask, Flower. Right, Violet?"
Before's Lily's mother could respond, and it did not appear as if she were going to agree in the least to that, the kitchen door swung open and Petunia appeared.
"What's going on in here!" She demanded. "What's burning?"
For a moment everyone was silent. Lily sniffed the air. There was a rather strong burning smell.
"Shit! The kippers!"
Her mother raced over to the stove and yanked open the oven door. Smoke furled out. Wrapping a dishtowel around her hand, she reached in, pulled something out and dropped it on the counter. Everyone stared at the blackened, shriveled sausages in the pan.
Her mother hung her head.
"Alright," she said. "Alright." She lifted her head and squared her shoulders, turning back to Lily. "Fine. Go to the party. Do what you will. Doesn't seem to matter what I reckon. But I don't want to hear any talk about it. It's Christmas and I don't want any more arguing. Now, put your gift away and set the table for breakfast. Petunia," she turned to her, "get the bacon out. And Harold," she added, "make me a cup of tea. A strong one."
xxx
They really were quite beautiful robes, Lily acknowledged, admiring her reflection in her wardrobes mirror. A slimmer cut than school robes, with a modest v-neck, made from pure champagne colored silk that felt luxurious against her skin. She'd swept her hair back into a graceful twisted coil, a deviation from her usual tight knot or tie back, and had even polished her glasses for the occasion. The overall effect was rather smart and respectable if she did say so herself. It was a stark contrast from the one she'd presented at Slughorn's party for sure. Then again, she was actually looking to make a good impression at this party.
Smoothing her robes out one last time, Lily shut her wardrobe and crossed over to her bed. Sitting atop her blankets was a small, square black box. It had arrived for her at Hogwarts, the morning after she'd owl'd her RSVP to the Potters, along with a cryptic note that had read:
Your travel has been arranged.
Open at precisely 4.02pm on the eve.
Lily picked up the box and counted down the minutes on her watch. When four-o-two pm struck she slipped off the top.
Whatever she had been expecting to find, it was not this. Nestled in velvet cushion linings was a snowglobe. Carefully, Lily plucked it out and studied it. It was a charming snow globe. It had an intricately carved silver base and a depiction of a little country village within the glass. But what the bloody hell did it mean?
There was no other note. No further instructions, no further explanation.
How was this supposed to get her to a party?
Had there been a mistake?
Was this someone's idea of a joke?
That thought gave her pause.
Was it a joke?
Had James stitched her up? Had he sent the letter and snowglobe? Did he have no intention of letting her actually attend the party?
He'd invited her before he'd blackmailed her into agreeing to help him win the stupid bet against Davies. He didn't actually need to hold up that end of the bargain, Lily realized with sickening clarity. She'd still have to pretend they were a couple or he'd make sure a bad reputation proceeded her, ruining her chances of ever being an Auror.
But then, she frowned, why gift her dress robes?
It seemed unnecessary to take the charade so far as to literally have her all dressed up with nowhere to go. And moreover, it was just cruel.
Absentmindedly, Lily turned the snow globe over in her hand, sending the sparkly flecks swirling around the tiny village, and it was that very instant several things happened at once. A sudden tug behind her belly button, like a hook cast, jerked her, the walls of her bedroom melted and twist into a vortex of color of wind around her, her feet left the ground and then she sucked forward, and onward into unknown.
Surprise!
- Goddess of the Maan
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