"Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up" ― Veronica Roth, Divergent.
Thalia always suspected her older sister was not … ordinary. Lily made flowers bloom at her will when she was happy and the fire in the fire-place burn lighter when she was upset. Their parents were confused by their daughter's strange abilities, Tuney was somewhere between jealous and angry, but Thalia was absolutely and utterly mesmerized.
She would follow Lily everywhere, trying to catch new grains of magic her sister performed. While Tuney would stay with Rose, helping her around the house (imagining to herself how invaluable her contribution to the household was and putting on airs from her "importance"), the younger girls would spend most of the days together. Not to give you a false impression, Thalia loved Tuney. During long and rainy London evenings, she knocked on the door to her room and they spent hours reading everything from silly fashion magazines to "Encyclopedia of a young scientist", while the wind raged outside the windows.
But when the day came and the sun was at its zenith, Thalia's world spun around Lily.
Sisters, who had long ago studied the nondescript neighborhood, now wandered further and further into the abandoned part of the area. Their favorite place was a playground; overgrown with flowers and long forgotten by the residents, it never attracted other kids. The only entertainment that was still suitable for use was the old iron swing.
If the stranger was walking nearby, he would be amazed by what he saw. In front of him, the intruder would see two young girls swinging in unison, the older girl tightly holding the hand of the younger. Swaying in as fast as they could, the girls would let go of the iron bars, when the swing reached the highest point. And, instead of falling, as it was supposed to happen, they just stayed in the air for a moment, and, with the burst of laugher, gently dive to the ground. What a strange picture indeed! Luckily, no one ever witnessed it. Or so Thalia thought, not noticing a pair of dark eyes watching her from afar.*
During the summertime, when the weather was so hot that the girls had neither desire nor strength to go far from home, they laid bedspreads in the garden of the backyard and lay under blooming cherries, absorbing the rays of the scorching sun. Sometimes cherry flowers, disturbed by the gentle wind, fell to the ground and Lily played with them. Many times Thalia picked up the flowers, which petals Lily made whimsically bend a few moments ago, and hold it in her palms, trying to do the same. It never worked … until one day.
It was one of those autumn days when you don't really want to leave the house: it snowed with unprecedented strength, but the temperature outside was not cold enough, and the beautiful snowflakes turned into slush, mixing with the mud and dust on the roads. Needless to say, Thalia was in no mood to travel anywhere in such weather, let alone London. She hated shopping with her Mom, especially when she made Thalia put on every single dress in the store. But Tuney was at school till noon and father took Lily to work with him. Besides, uncle Bob's birthday party was approaching, and Thalia had nothing appropriate to wear, as she grew 5 inches since the last winter. So Rose was set to go to the mall, and the nearest one was in London.
"I don't want to dress up, Mom. Is it really necessary? We don't even like uncle Bob."
"What do you mean by that, young lady?" Rose asked in a mock angry tone.
"He always discusses how many pounds Dad gained since the last meeting. And aunt Julie constantly brags about getting another stupid bling, like anyone actually cares."
"Didn't I teach you not to talk poorly about family? Where did you get these ideas from?"
"From you," Thalia said with a wide grin. "When Dad told you we were invited to the diner."
"First of all," Rose said, trying to hide a smile, "never talk about people who are older than you disrespectfully, honey. We may not wear jewels like our dearest cousins, but we have manners. Secondly, I know these people for fifteen years and, God forgive me, I deserved the right to complain. And, want it or not, you have to renew your wardrobe anyway. End of story."
Rose spoke calmly, but in a firm voice, making clear that any further bickering would be pointless.
"Don't frown, sweetheart. I'll buy the first one you'll like. It won't take long, I promise." Rose added, putting on gloves and tightly tying the scarf around her neck.
Thalia sighed, thinking about how many times her Mom made promises of that kind, which all ended in hours in shops and boutique, trying on the clothes. But to make Rose justice, she could find really (like really) beautiful outfits even in the average price shops they shopped in. Something that seemed mediocre at best on the shelves, Rose, pairing with small accessories here and adding cute boots there, made seem gorgeous. Thalia was not fond of her mother's little hobby, but she always recognized her sense of beauty.
With that in mind, she let Rose's last phrase slip away and prepared herself for the long trip.
When they finally got to London, however, Thalia's mood lightened.
The snow had stopped, and Rose decided to get off the metro one station earlier to drop by the new bookstore. When they left the shop, Thalia, with a wild smile on her face, was holding a new Jules Verne's book in a glossy cover, and even grey foggy skу, which was hanging heavily over the heads of passers-by, seemed a little brighter to her.
Of course, they ended up not only buying clothes for Thalia but the gifts for Christmas (which was in two distant months!) for the whole family. However, when all the purchases were carefully wrapped up and paid for, Thalia signed with amusement. Submerged into thoughts about the new book, Thalia imagined how delightful it would be to flip the first pages and plunge into an exciting world of new adventures and dangers. Three hours passed by, and she didn't even notice! "Shopping was not so bad, after all," girl admitted to herself.
When they made their way out of the mall, the cold air hit Thalia's face and her cheeks instantly flushed.
It turned out this week there were big sales in the city center, alas the streets were loaded more than usual: people scurried along them, running into each other now and then; sometimes apologizing, but mostly just walking past the unfortunate pedestrians.
"Stay close, Thalia. People are going crazy in here," Rose cautioned, breathing heavily, as they headed to cross the road.
Bags she was holding was quite heavy: her knuckles turned white from tension.
"Let me help you, Mom," Thalia suggested, noticing how the stuffed bundle brushed the asphalt.
"No," Rose retorted, putting the bags on the ground, "I'll manage, honey, just need to catch a breath and…"
Mrs. Evans didn't get to finish her sentence, as several strange and scary things happened at the same time.
Firstly, a man, too keen on a telephone conversation, did not notice that a red light lit up at the crossing. He bumped into Rose and she, losing balance and tripping over the bags, flew into the roadway.
Most drivers reacted quickly and were able to stop their vehicles, but one car was moving fast towards the astonished Rose, who stood in the middle of the road, rooted to the spot by shock and the suddenness of the situation.
Thalia's heart froze, she saw everything in slow motion: silver Mercedes, that was moving with incredible speed, and her mother, who was right on its way, face twisted with fear.
Then, Thalia screamed as she never did before.
"Nooooo!" the sound tore the air apart, so desperate and loud it was. And, as by a sound wave, the car was thrown to the side, and, circling Rose along an arc, crashed into the sidewalk.
Thalia immediately rushed to her mother's side. "Mom," girl shook her shoulder, forcing Rose to unwind. "Mama, are you alright? Have you been hurt?"
There was a rattle of tires, yelling of pedestrians, and loud swearing of drivers, but nothing bothered Thalia. Her mother was alive!
The horridness of the moment didn't give Thalia a chance to realize what just happened. Her mother was safe, nothing else mattered.
But if she had looked around, she would have witnessed unsightly picture: cars were scattered in disarray on the road, the windows of the nearest shops were cracked, and streetlights within a radius of hundred yards splattered into small fragments. All of that happened in the exact moment girl's scream burst from her throat, echoing off the walls of buildings.
Someone pulled them aside from the road and called the police and the ambulance. There was a bench at the bus stop, and Evans settled there. Some compassionate pub owner brought hot tea for them, but it was left to cool on the bench corner, untouched and forgotten. Meanwhile, Thalia held her mother's shaky hand, clinging tightly to her and trying her best not to cry. "She can't be strong now, that's fine, I just have to be strong for both of us," girl repeated to herself non-stop, as it was her new mantra.
"We are fine, Mama. Doctors going to come soon, you'll see." She stated, not hearing how intermittent her own voice was.
When Rose could comprehend more facts than the ones that she was still breathing and not smashed under the two-ton piece of iron, she saw a woman, kneeling next to her.
"Missis," the woman with soft brown eyes reached out to grab her free hand, "how are you feeling?"
"Thalia!" Rose exclaimed, searching familiar brown curls in the crowd and completely ignoring the stranger in front of her.
"Don't worry, she is here, right here," woman whispered reassuringly. Following a woman's gaze, Rose finally acknowledged Thalia's presence. She felt the warmness of her daughter's body, pressed to her own, and signed with relief. "I am here, Mom." Thalia squeezed her hand a bit tighter, and Rose, without any words, pulled her daughter in a hug and finally let the stress of the day poor out, as she bent her head on her daughter's shoulder and burst into tears.
Later, when Talia's coat was soaking wet, her mother finally let go of her and observed the wrecked street. And a trace of thought flickered in her head. She glanced at the crashed Mercedes, that, no matter how awful it sounded, should have hit her, and then at Thalia, whose wild scream still ringed like an echo in her ears.
"Jesus, what am I going to tell the police?" came her voice, sounding both confused and terrified.
The women, who all that time was sitting on the bench, seemed to wait for Rose to calm dawn, spoke again.
"Missis, my name is Euphemia Potter. My son and I," she nodded toward the raven-haired boy who stood a little bit further from them, "we were passing by and saw how everything happened. I believe I know how to explain the situation you find yourself in. Would you like to hear me out, before the patrol come?"
Rose could not see how that could be explained in any way (the whole area was… savaged!), but something in lady Potter's firm and confident posture, the way the brown eyes met the worried green ones, made Rose nod in reply.
"You are Thalia, I believe?" Euphemia leaned closer, so the girl could hear too. "I see you are a grown young lady. Could you please check on my son? That boy cannot be left for a minute without putting himself in trouble."
Thalia, completely aware of the fact that she was just an unwanted listener of which was trying to get rid of, lingered for a second. But then, with a polite "Yes, madam", as father taught her, headed to the boy.
He stood far enough not to hear the conversation. "What a shame," Thalia afflicted, desperately wishing to hear every single word of it.
He was lean and tanned; smile with a hint of mischief playing on his lips. His dark hair was tangled by the wind, so Thalia couldn't say, whether it was naturally that spiky (Thalia didn't envy his hairdresser, if so) or if the weather was responsible for this nest.
"Hey. I am James, James Potter." He held his hand, carelessly brushing strands of unruly hair from his eyes.
"Thalia," she shook the stretched hand, which was warm and a little dry.
"Hey, what happened… it was cool. Not what happened to your Mom, not that part, obviously." He stumbled, seeing how Thalia scowled, hands on her hips. "I mean what you did to stop the car, all this boom and bam!" He threw his hands in the air, depicting an explosion. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Well, thank you," Thalia looked at him in disbelieve. That boy-James, she mentally corrected herself- was sooo excited over all this mess, and she genuinely didn't know whether he was trying to make a compliment or just mocking her. "But I didn't do it."
"Of course you did!" His voice came with such confidence, as though he just stated "the earth goes around the sun" fact. "Wizards and witches do it all the time. Not adults though, they don't know how to have fun, but it happens with children."
"Did you just call me a witch?" Thalia questioned, more puzzled than offended.
"Oh, I didn't know that you are a muggl…" he wavered under Thalia's insightful gaze. "Being a witch is not a bad thing, it's actually fantastic. You get to fly on the broom and play quidditch, and go to Hogwarts when you turn eleven." He respectfully lowered his voice on the word 'Hogwarts' as it was some secret password he just passed to her.
"What is Hogwarts?"
"School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," boy proclaimed proudly.
"I think you are trying to prank me," Thalia murmured, not convinced by his answer.
"No, I swear," he retorted. "You'll get an owl with an invitation letter to attend after your eleventh birthday. And then you will be sorted into your new house, and…"
"James Charlus Potter" Euphemia exclaimed, as she and Rose suddenly appearing behind Thalia's back. "Poor girl is exhausted, and you show your compassion by tiring her more?"
"But Mom," James protested, "I wasn't bothering her. We were just talking about Hogw…" Euphemia's unequivocal cough made him stop in the middle of his acquittal speech.
Rose, now more put together, turned to Thalia. "Doctors came, honey. They want to examine us."
"And thank you for your help, Mrs. Potter, though I hope you are mistaken," was the last words she said to Euphemia, before nodding in goodbye.
"That girl is a witch, I know that. Why didn't you tell her?" James exclaimed dramatically.
"Certain things should be learned at a certain time," Euphemia said in the flattest voice she could master. "Now, less talking more walking, young gentleman." She finally turned away from the retreating couple, and strode along the sidewalk in the opposite direction, with James walking behind her.
When doctors ensured both Evans were perfectly fine, besides few bruises and scratches, and police took statements, in which Rose lied in cold blood, repeating "I don't know, officer" so many times her voice became hoarsen, they were free to go.
Poor driver, which turned out to be an old man, with his hair graying at the temples and glasses so thick he probably wasn't safe to drive at all, was shocked to the point where he couldn't recall what made his car turn. He was so relieved he didn't become an accidental murderer, that even crumpled bumper of Mercedes didn't overshadow his happiness.
Policemen with baffled faces looked over the street and all the damage, but, as they couldn't find a better explanation, put the full blame on the strong autumn wind. Which at first sounded ridiculous even to themselves, but people believe what they want to believe, and by the end of the day the most skeptical of witnesses were gossiping about the incident and "Such a nasty weather" phrase infallibly followed their narration.
Thalia kept stoically quiet when police were still nearby, but as soon as they came out of its role of vision, she broke the silence. "What did that woman told you, Mom?"
"I wish I knew, honey. I wish I knew," a sad smile touched Rose lips, and Thalia wondered what was her mother trying to hide behind that lifeless smile.
Thas night, when all of her family slept peacefully, Thalia was tossing and turning in bed, James' words rubbing in her head.
She threw the blanket aside and slipped out of the bed, completely sure that she won't be able to sleep. Lily sniffed in the bunk next to her, so Thalia didn't risk turning on the lamp.
Noiselessly, she approached the wardrobe, lonely towering in the corner of the bedroom. Having fished out the old shabby book, she, rustling through the pages, opened it in the middle. There was a small milky-white flower; withered and fragile, it still has not lost its beauty. Thalia hesitated before taking it, but as soon as her thin delicate fingers touched it, its petals filled with moisture and freshness once again, and the tart jasmine aroma spread throughout the room.
The same evening James Potter, unsatisfied with the answers or rather lack of them, was eavesdropping on his parents' conversation, as he watched them sitting in the living room just a few minutes after his mother sent him off to bed.
Fleamont Potter was sitting on the couch, his eyes shut in an attempt to rest after a long day.
The pipe in his hands puffed, and he, deeply inhaling, released a cloud of smoke.
"So what about the girl, Mia? Did James gloss over the details, as usual?" he joked.
"Not this time, Montie. Aside from the part when I 'unfairly and undeservingly' scolded him off, he told the truth about the witch." Euphemia winced, fending off tobacco fumes.
James, satisfied that his theory was proven right, made a careless move: the floorboard creaked beneath him and he hastened to retreat that instant. That girl was a witch, after all. He will meet her in Hogwarts, and right now he didn't want to risk anger his mother. With that thought, the boy left the adults to their privacy.
"What did you tell her mother? You know the ministry became sensitive with the secrecy status lately." Fleamont put the pipe aside, now more concerned.
"Nothing specific," Euphemia reassured him. "I think she already suspected her daughter was special, so I just warned her not to share assumptions with anyone. "
She stopped for a moment, gazing out of the window on the last rays of setting sun.
She lifted the wand in graceful motion and the candles lit up in the room. She was fast with spells once, when the time had not yet touched her and wrinkles didn't dapple her arms, making them slower than ever before. Now the sharp features of her figure softened and the speed was replaced with grace and steadiness.
"But what a powerful magic in a fragile creature like her. I am afraid something bad can happen to the child with such magical potential." Euphemia continued, unable to cast aside the unrest.
"Don't worry, Mia. The poor girl was just scared for her mother, and uncontrolled magical emissions are not uncommon for young witches her age. Maybe she is just talented? I am sure ministry will register the case and take care of the destruction," Fleamont tried to calm his wife.
"That was not about the damage, Montie. Her magic, it was so powerful. I didn't just saw it, I could feel how it trembled in my core. It felt… dangerous. And both you and I know what came out of the last "talented" wizard boy. I should probably inform Dumbledore," women uttered nervously.
"No, it's just a girl, Mia, and you are trying to make the next Voldemort out of her ," Fleamont spat out the name as it was a curse. "Surely, Dumbledore has more urgent issues to take care of. You know that he is uprising and...Oh, nevermind," he cut himself off, not particularly enjoying where the conversation was going. "Besides, I think James was charmed by that mysterious girl. Thalia, you said? Have you noticed how sad he was when you said he wouldn't be able to awl her? Oh, sweet youth. He was so terrified, as though he will never find or meet her again," he said, trying to switch to more pleasant topic.
"Oh, have no worries, Fleamont. I have a feeling we will hear about her soon enough." Euphemia's eyes darkened, as the candles' flame cast a shadow on her face. "For better or worse," she added quietly, so only the ghosts of Potter manor could hear her in the darkness of the dusk.
Notes:
Hey, have you forgotten me already? :)
In all seriousness, I am going to improve the pace and upload faster (maybe).
Also, in addition to the previos chapter, I wanted to clear what the name "Thalia" means.
Thalia was the one of eight muses who presided over comedy and idyllic poetry in greek mythology, so from here the reference to "her smiling face". It also means "to blossom" (from Greek "thallein"), which I thought would suit the Evans first name patterns.
*I guess a lot of you will think about Snape reading this line, but it's not him. This plot turn will be adressed later in the story.