-10-
Ocean. I'd never thought of this word as a separate entity, but looking at the multitude of faces swarming through the tiny market village of Hogsmeade, I got reminded of the sleepy blue ocean I'd seen the many times I'd been to the beach- infinite beauty, but you're scared of losing yourself in it. I thought of myself in relation to this and realized I was no more than a small, curled shell on the beach.
I wrote to Father later about this and he said, "Poetic."
Severus reached out for my hand. I hesitated, and then took his. It felt cold, not swampy cold, just..cold.
"You're cold," I remarked.
"Am I?" He seemed to think I resented it, and withdrew his hand.
"So, how are we getting there?" I asked him.
"Oh….Mother didn't tell me about it. I suppose it has to be some sort of magical transportation. Something downright bizarre."
"Dragons," not to sound stupid…but since the tryst at Gringotts, I'd been more than a bit curious about dragons and would be glad to meet them. How big could they get? Right?
He laughed, "I sense the waves of imagination building up."
"Hobgoblins on sledges," I was joking now, but a part of me still expected what was unexpected.
"Santa's sleigh," Sev said, grinning his elfish grin.
"Animals of the deep. Centaurs and trolls…"
"Public buses."
Years later, as a wife, and then as a mother, I would forget why I laughed aloud at that. Forget how my imagination swept me off the earth. Forget why Severus looked at me, with mock seriousness as I laughed. They would cheat me, these memories, and taunt me by their elusiveness. I would learn to value my innocence, years after I lost it. Learn to value the humor that is hidden in the idea of little wizards boarding a public bus for their magic school. There was a time when I laughed at those.
"OI! FIRST-YEARS, THIS WAY!" the same beetle-eyed man who'd interrupted my conversation with Petunia was now gesturing (violently) to the huddled group of first years to come forth.
"Are we like, near a water body?" I asked to the crowd, I could hear the distant roar of some river.
"We take boats to the castle. From next year, we board the carriages."
I turned to face my speaker. A young girl about our age, probably a bit younger. She was classically beautiful, with fair, flawless skin, soft pink lips, sparkly blue eyes and beautiful, cascading light-orange hair with soft, wispy bangs on her forehead.
"Hi," I said.
"Um, hi."
There was a moment of awkward silence.
"My name's Lily," I said, tugging at Sev's sleeve, but he was preoccupied with the boats, "This is my absent-minded friend Severus. We're both going to be in Slytherin."
I don't really know why I added that.
"I heard that," Sev mumbled.
"It was meant to be heard," I retorted. "Look, a friend."
The girl blushed. "I am Mary Barton."
"Mary?" I asked excitedly. "J-…someone confused me for you on the train!''
She smiled. She was very shy, but I'm not discouraged by shy people, I see it as a challenge, breaking their silence. "Which house do you hope to be in?"
Her eyes flitted nervously behind me. I looked back.
There was a tall, slender fifth-year staring at her. His skin was pale, and it did not stop at that-it was downright white, ghostly pale. He had longish white hair, sleek as the snow-it made him look like one of those 'manga' princes I'd seen in a comic. He wore our black robes, but his tie was green and grey-the colors of Slytherin. I dared to look into his eyes.
I wish I hadn't.
They were a beautiful shape, no doubt, but they were full of an ancient honor, an unspoken pride. The intensity in them made my knees clatter. Absurdly, I wished he was looking at me, not her. Suddenly, he turned his eyes to mine, mine green as grass, his deep, dark silver like clouds on a moonlit night. His stare made my stomach queasy. I felt stripped of everything. Then he turned his eyes away.
Surprise. I could breathe again.
"Lily," Severus looked at me. "You okay?"
I managed to nod. "Who's that?" I asked him. I felt he would know.
"Lucius Malfoy," Sev whispered.
Lucius. A name so full of itself. It brought to mind the beautiful Lucifer, his arrogant beauty.
I didn't know Lucifer then. I didn't know him well enough to be afraid of Lucius, to be afraid of a family that names their child so. I also didn't care his surname was Malfoy- heck, I met someone named 'Potter' on that train, and possibly…possibly Malfoy was a fairly common name in this world, if not in ours. This brought a second realization, Lucius was a pureblood. I cast a sidelong glance at him.
He was looking at me.
"Bad news, the Malfoys," Sev told into my ear, as I felt blood rushing to my face. "Don't be fooled by his totally pretty face, they've got hearts like ice. My mother attended classes with some of them, said they were the types who grow up to become…dark wizards."
'Dark Wizard' was a heavy term, but it was self-explanatory. Footsteps, on the broken cold laterite of the dock (where we stood awaiting our boats) told me the silver-eyed boy was approaching us.
"Oh, bullfrogs," Sev muttered.
I turned around to face the enigmatic Dark-Wizard-in-the-making. He ignored me, approaching Sev, "Snape?"
"Yes," Sev reluctantly shook his hand. I saw Malfoy's fingers; long, slender, white…they could be that of a pianist or a painter. There was a glimmering silver ring on one, a delicate thing consisting of two entwined serpents. A badge in emerald on his chest had a 'P' emblemed on it. Prefect.
Suddenly, I became super-aware of his eyes focused on me. "This is…?''
"Um, Lily Evans." Severus' fingers entwined with mine. "She comes from the same town as me."
"Evans," he stared at me, at my long, dark red hair, my pale face. "Evans?"
"Muggleborn," I said wearily. I was getting used to it. People here automatically inserted an interrogation mark after introductions, which you were supposed to fill in with blood status. "Hello, I'm Sheila Davis-um, Muggleborn." "Oh! Jasper Lee-charmed, I'm sure-Pureblood."
His extended hand flexed involuntarily, but I quickly held it. His fingers seemed reluctant to take mine, but I didn't let go. Not so easily. He released his fingers from the vice-like grip of my own.
"Well," he tried to regain composure. "See you around, Severus."
He left; his gait ramrod straight and regal.
We stared at each other. Severus puffed out his cheeks, then blew out slowly, his breath fogging in the surprisingly cold night air. Phew.
"So…where were we?" I turned around.
But Mary Barton had left.
The boats were huge, like ancient Viking ones-the ones with the ugly figureheads. As the first-years piled into the boat, someone scrambled for a seat next to us. Sev nudged me, it was Sandy hair. From the train.
"I'm very, very sorry," he said, not looking at Severus, but at me. "For earlier."
"It's all good," I lied. In my mind, I pictured the trio telling me I'd never get anywhere in life if I befriended him. Like they knew everything about life, with their level of mental maturity.
Sev stared at him, "You. Again."
Sandy looked helplessly. Something in his green eyes told me he was genuinely nice. "I'm very, very sorry," he repeated. "It won't happen again. I do not want to make enemies here. Lily and Severus, you'll be my friends, yes?"
We stared at each other for the briefest of moments. "C'mon, you," I told him. "We're okay now."
He stared up and smiled. It was a brilliantly warm smile, like Severus' was beautiful, and Father's usually crooked. "I'm Remus Lupin," he said. (They really had strange names. It occurred to me, even 'Severus' was a queer name. I should've changed my name too. Titania Shakespeare or something. Lily was too plain.)
"Well, hi Remus."
The boat pushed forward, its oars cutting a steady splash, splash, splash noise through the black water. "You must be Pureblood?" Sev asked.
"Um, well…." Remus looked uncomfortable, so I nodded my head at my friend. "It's beautiful, isn't it? The view, I mean."
It was, but it was also fantastically improbable. About fifty students on the ancient boats, plowing through dark waters of an unknown lake, bordered by heavy forests and huge, snowy mountains. I thought of Petunia, and felt kind of weird.
"Alright, Lily?" Sev asked. I thought about our awkward hand-holding, but nodded anyway.
"LOOK!" a young girl, sharing our boat, screamed. We immediately rushed forward.
I've seldom been at a loss for words, but this one of those rare moments that I was struck dumb. The castle jutting out of the hill was ENORMOUS. Its spires twisted and met upwards, the windows shone with gold lights and there were huge, huge fields surrounding every side. I counted four towers (for four houses, perhaps?) and some smaller buildings and trees scattered all around. It wouldn't have been surprising if Rapunzel appeared at a window, combing her hair. Or perhaps, Cinderella ran down the great flight of steps, leaving behind a glass slipper. Anything was possible with this castle. I imagined Sofia's face if I narrated this tale back home. She'd laugh at me for days.
"WOW," Sev announced. I nodded, almost blissfully unaware of anything but myself and that imposing building ahead.
We gradually rowed to the bank, where the beetle-eyed man helped us out. I became acutely aware that I was shivering; the seats had been soggy and cold on the boat. Even Sev's teeth chattered. We stood together, all fifty, unaware of what to do next, overwhelmed, freezing and totally clueless.
Suddenly, the huge iron gates of the school began creaking open. A tall, thin lady with a dignified face, jet-black hair pulled into an imposing knot and dark emerald robes stepped out. I wondered if she was the Head of Slytherin or something. She looked at all of us, her gaze sweeping yet hawklike. "I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of this institution," she said, her voice clear and refined. She glanced at the man momentarily, "You are late, Hagrid," she said disapprovingly.
The man flushed, from the tips of his shaggy beard (to his toes, I'll bet). "Sorry, Professor, 'those ruddy boats, they delayed me, they did."
She sighed, "Alright. We'll take them to the Great Hall and sort them up."
Sort? We murmured excitedly among each other. Most wanted to be in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, I noticed.
"WHAT IS THAT?" a young Japanese boy screamed near my ears, "That thing there?"
We looked up. Above us, a thin, eerie silvery shadow drifted past. It was only for a second, but I thought I saw a figure, long silvery robes, a flowing beard. Wait. Could it be...?
"Is that..," one girl ventured bravely. "Is that a ghost?"
"Why, yes," Hagrid said, as though it was a lizard or a cockroach.
We stared. No, we goggled. I exchanged startled looks with Remus.
Minerva saw us looking and smiled a tight-lipped smile.
"Welcome to Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she said, calmly.