The last day of summer, 1976
The blue light from the TV screen illuminated Petunia's face and Lily realized she no longer knew her. Petunia knew she was being watched, Lily saw her face tighten as she entered the room. Her hair was in curlers and she smelt like peroxide and nail polish. She didn't look like Petunia anymore. Petunia was the freckle faced girl whose nose wrinkled when she laughed and showed her how to make daisy chains.
That Petunia didn't have a store bought tan. That Petunia didn't scowl when Lily entered the room. That little girl was lost, and would never be found again. All the same, Lily loved her. She loved her because she knew that she was all that was left of that freckled little girl. She loved her because she was her sister. She could dye her hair and pretend not to know her on the street, but some part of her body, the blood they shared, wouldn't let Lily hate her.
The only thing that hurt was that Petunia would never love her back. When she looked at her, she didn't see Lily anymore, she saw a freak. Lily realized then that they were strangers.
Petunia laughed at a joke on her TV program but her nose no longer wrinkled and her laugh was high and unfamiliar. Lily had never heard it before, or never chose to. She wanted to reach out to her, to make her understand how much she needed her to be her sister again.
The stifling silence of the living room was more than she could take, the only noise was the metallic voices on the television. Her nobly legs carried her up to her room, where it still smelt like summer. It was quieter here but somehow less suffocating. The gentle humming of the air conditioning was broken only by the soft breathing of Opal, asleep in her cage.
Books still cluttered her floor. Not school books, but faded, coverless paper backs. Their dog eared pages had once been her only escape from the world. As a child her father read them to her and she played extensive games sailing in Narnia with Lucy or traveling across middle earth with Bilbo.
Usually Lily had played by herself, a loner even back then. Sometimes Petunia joined me but she had so little imagination Lily had wished she wouldn't. Petunia would scoff and was always ask stupid questions, "why a wardrobe" and "what's a Gollum""
In the past few weeks, when the air conditioner was broken and summers heat had become unbearable, Lily had searched again for the magical places she'd once disappeared to. The books were no longer enough. Lily found herself wondering "why a wardrobe" and shaking her head and looking for something else.
Lily was always looking from something. James was sure it was him. He had often remarked on the lost look on her face, when he caught her off guard. She would bristle and take points from Gryffindor. James didn't care about points, he didn't care about winning the house cup or whether people were angry at him.
His attitude angered me more than the rest of the things he did put together. Perhaps this was because she didn't care about these things either, the house cup was just a cup; no one would remember it a year from now. Especially with the world suddenly growing so black outside the safe walls of the castle.
For the first five years of her school career, she surrounded herself with friends. She was smart, pretty and well liked. She got asked to Hogsmeade by various boys; she discussed dress robes and snuck out to parties at night. She was also quite well liked by her professors. She never missed a class, never missed a chance to raise her hand with the answer. In every way, she lived in a comfortable, fake little world.
The more Lily looked at her life, the more she saw how empty she was. She had filled each day with fake smiles. She had no real friends who she could talk to, except of course Marlene, and Marlene seemed to have forgotten her. No one really cared what she was thinking or what she was feeling. Even Anne hadn't called her since the incident last month. Lily realized she had been feeling especially down since that day. She wanted this year to be different. She wasn't sure how, but she wanted to be happy.
She didn't clean up the pile of books; she wanted to remember her room just like this until she came home next Christmas. She always came home for Christmas; her parents would have it no other way. Sometimes she'd bring a couple friends, friends who she didn't keep up with. She'd pretend to still enjoy eggnog and carols.
The truth was Christmas wasn't the same as when she was seven. She'd still had faith in magic then, in real good magic like flying reindeer and elves that make toys. Now that she knew the horrible things that real magic could do, she longed for innocence, not just for herself but for the world.
Hogwarts had become her home. The cold stone walls and moth eaten tapestries had replaced the little bed room and warm kitchen where she spent her youth. She missed the feeling of being at home with her family. Perhaps that was what she was searching for.
It was late now, well after midnight. She could still hear the recorded voices on the television down stairs but she suspected Petunia had fallen asleep during her program. She sighed and ran a hand through her ratty, un-brushed hair. With out taking off her clothes, she climbed under the blankets and fell fast asleep.
xxxxxxx
The moon was rising over the azaleas. The sandy haired boy watched it defiantly from the grassy hill where he lay. Sirius sat beside him, smelling comforting and sour at the same time. A fire was crackling pleasantly and James was curled up beside it. Peter was vomiting in the bushes; the others saw his silhouette with blurred eyes.
"You know what's sad?" slurred Sirius, running his fingers through his black hair.
"What?" responded Remus after a moment.
"After tomorrow, we won't be able to do any of this anymore," Sirius paused and took a long drag from his cigarette. Sometimes, late and night when they had all drunk too much Sirius said things he'd never say during the day. "Tomorrow we'll be back. No more freedom. No more long nights doing nothing."
Remus nodded his agreement and took a cigarette for himself. Peter made a faint choking noise and looked rather ill. James didn't say anything, that night he had drunk more than any of them and was now probably asleep in his spot few feet away.
"I can think of something sadder though . . . " Remus said, watching smoke rings disappear into the air.
"What?" Peter asked, his voice soft.
"James doesn't care, there is only one thing on his mind," Remus said. James turned over in his sleep, as if in response
"True," Sirius gave a little laugh that was maybe half sympathetic.
"What? What's on his mind?" Peter asked. Peter was never the brightest of them.
"What do you think Wormtail, what's always on James mind?"
"Quiddich?"
"Aside from that . . . "
"Girls?"
"Close."
"Um . . . "
"Lily you dolt!" Sirius said, punching Peters shoulder. James sat up very suddenly.
"Where?" He looked around, "Lily?" James said, looking directly at Sirius.
"Poor guy." Sirius shook his head, "No Prongs, Siirriiuuus, I'm Sirius. Remember? Prongs can you hear me?" James wrinkled his nose and rolled back over. He was digging something out of his pocket, a newspaper clipping.
"Look," said Prongs, thrusting it bellow Sirius's nose. "She was attacked."
Sirius took the paper, it bore a picture of Lily Evans, looking a pretty as ever, albeit a bit ruffled.
"She could have died," James muttered, closing his eyes. No one responded. For someone to almost die was no longer surprising or uncommon.
Sirius surveyed the yard. It was the last night of summer and for once he wasn't eager to return to school. Usually he couldn't wait to escape his family but this year had been different. He has spent each day with Remus and James, they had been like his brothers. Sirius didn't like to admit it, but it had been like having a family.
Tomorrow he'd have to think about school and all that came with it. He wasn't eager to see anyone. He wasn't eager to worry about the threats facing the Wizarding world or his own problems or N.E.W.T. classes.
And then there was James, he's gone out with a couple girls in the past who were lovely in every way except for their complete lack of being Lily Evans. James had been in love with her since first year when he'd accidentally spilled pumpkin juice on her at the Halloween feast. He's had brief flings with other girls, but they were all fleeting and left him only more in love with Lily.
As the hot air engulfed them in scent of honeysuckle. Sirius took the last drag on his cigarette and put it out on the ground beside him. The mixture of this with the heavy smell of vodka was sickly and seemed to blanket them all as night fell. The fire was reduced to glowing coals. Sirius watched James as he slipped into uncomfortable dreams, filled with familiar green eyes.
