Chapter 2: Cucumber Sandwiches
On the porch steps of a little cream-colored house sat Rose Evans. Ever since noon she had been leafing through her student's reports, smiling at the content of most, and sighing at the content, or rather, the lack of content, of those that failed to meet her standards.
Despite the sun's radiance and the sky's clarity, the day was a bit chilly and Mrs. Evans decided that wearing a jacket over her sleeveless shirt would have make her more comfortable. Nonetheless, she didn't wish to waste the time it would take for her to fetch one, as she was eager to join her family for lunch in about an hour. Petunia was due back from her date with Harrison Thorton, and Rose's husband David was inside the house with Lily, their other daughter, preparing the cucumber sandwiches.
Lily offered to assist with everything, cooking especially. She had a knack for it, as if she instinctively knew how the ingredients would taste if prepared in this way, or that. Perhaps, in time, Lily will find a passion for Chemistry as I did, Rose mused.
"Mum, its time for lunch!" Lily called out the kitchen window, grinning ear-to-ear. "And guess what? I made a special dessert as well! I can't tell you what it is, though. It's supposed to be a surprise"
Rose laughed. Lily's mouth had chocolate icing smeared all over it. Not wanting to spoil the "surprise", however, she kept silent.
"I'll be right in, dear! I can't wait to find out! Oh! Don't forget to set out a plate for your sister too. She'll be returning any minute."
"Right-oh!" Lily sang, her face disappearing from view. The boxed flowers along the window's edge were still dancing from where her brilliant red hair brushed them as she withdrew her head. Smiling to herself, Rose shuffled her papers into one pile, and went inside.
---------
"So, how was your date, dear?" Mrs. Evans asked, looking fondly over at a beaming Petunia. Lily inwardly groaned. This would be a long, and most likely arrogant, account of Harrison Thorton's affections as they manifested themselves in expensive purchases and escapades. Lily had no interest in Petunia's love life, not because she didn't care for her sister, but because she knew Petunia to be rather superficial when it came to boys. She always dated those who were good-looking, generous, and above all, wealthy. Petunia cared little for their interests, aside from herself, of course, and cared even less for their talent and intelligence.
"Splendid. Harrison took me to that new expensive restaurant down the road from his home. You know, the one with the roses in the window? I had filet mignon, of course, and afterwards we..."
Lily's mind began to drift away from the tedious conversation. Eyes wandering towards the kitchen window, she smiled faintly as a honey bee drifted lazily down upon the flowers, collecting pollen from one and then floating to the next. A boy rode by on his bicycle, and an elderly woman walked her spaniel along the sidewalk. Birds twittered, and an owl flew by. Wait. An owl?
"That's funny," Lily mused to herself.
"What is it dear?" her mother asked. Petunia rolled her eyes and began tapping her nails along the tabletop, miffed that Lily had interrupted her sappy monologue.
"Oh! Did I say that aloud?" Lily asked, flustered. "It's nothing. I only thought I saw an owl fly past our house, carrying a letter in its talons. Funny, isn't it?"
"Not really." Petunia didn't bother to keep the resentment out of her voice as she said it. "Ehem. Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted…"
"Speaking of letters, the mail has probably arrived by now." interrupted her father, paying no heed to Petunia's indignance at being cut off a second time, equally bored with her frivolous chatter. "Petunia, dear, would you mind fetching it for me?"
Shoving her chair away from the table, Petunia set herred heelson the floor with a loud bang and strutted off into the hallway, slamming the front door as she left. Mrs. Evans sighed. The tension of the room had left with her indignant daughter. They only had a minute or two of serenity, however, as Petunia strutted back in with the same demeanor.
"Tsk. Two letters for you, mother, a few bills for you father," Petunia handed each their envelopes, "…and this must be for you." Petunia launched the last letter at Lily, knocking over a water glass. With an indifferent smirk, Petunia seated herself at the table once more, looking mighty pleased with herself. Lily feigned an air of equal indifference, daintily wiping up the spill, squeezing out the hem of her skirt, and dabbing at the edges of her letter meticulously.
Deciding to take no action against Petunia's rude behavior, at least for the time being, Mr. Evans turned his attention to Lily's unusual letter. It was sealed with an illustrated crest, but what it stood for was an absolute mystery to him. At the center of the crest sat a bold letter "H", and around the H a snake, badger, raven, and… is that a lion?…sat with uncanny airs of dignity.
"Go on. Open it!" Mrs. Evans was just as intrigued as her husband was, and even Petunia, who rarely took an interest in the business of others, sat fidgeting out of poorly concealed curiosity.
Lily slowly removed the seal. She wasn't sure why, but her heart began to race in excitement, and as she unfolded the yellowed parchment her green eyes sparkled with a strange happiness. What if it was merely a practical joke? Perhaps it was her fondness for fairytales that made her believe it was possible. Taking a slow breath, hands shaking and mouth dry, she began to read.
"Dear Ms. Evans…We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September first. We await your…owl?…by no later than…July thirty first…"
Petunia could contain herself no longer. Giggling hysterically, she shook her head back and forth almost comically as she tried to speak between her bursts of laughter. "Oh. Yes. Ahaha! My god, I can't believe you didn't laugh before I did, Lil! I mean, just reading…ahaha…that…" Mr. Evans was done fighting off his hysterics as well. Only Lily and Mrs. Evans were having different reactions. Lily just sat staring at Petunia, mildly offended but mostly disappointed and ashamed of herself for believing such nonsense, even for one moment. It was too good to be true. Magic, real! Honestly.
Mrs. Evans, on the other hand, sat staring out the window at the owl that had perched itself along the window's ledge. Its huge, golden eyes were staring right at her, as if waiting for her to say something. The most peculiar expression began to form on her face as she wrestled with her definition of truth and reality, trying to find the words to speak and inform her family of the mysterious encounter she had had a week ago while shopping. Clearing her throat, she attempted to form the words, but found she could not. And all the while that bird continued to stare with its golden orbs, waiting. Waiting. 'It knows.' Mrs. Evans thought. 'It knows.'
As her eldest daughter and her husband began to regain their composure, Mr. Evans wiping the tears from his eyes and Petunia pursing her lips in self-restraint, Mrs. Evans felt a rush of courage.
"There is something that I believe I must tell you, Lily. One week ago, as I was shopping for organic medicines in a rather eccentric part of London, I accidentally knocked into an old man in robes. He had a long white beard and an all-knowing look in his blue eyes, and he forgave me for scattering his shopping basket's contents quite readily. As I assisted him in cleaning up the mess…you know, there were seeds and powders strewn everywhere…we began a conversation. He asked of my profession, and I told him. I asked him of his, and he calmly replied that he was the Headmaster of a school called Hogwarts, but that I'd most probably never heard of it, and most probably never would hear of it again. I asked him if it was a small school…after all, why else would I never hear of it?…and he simply replied that it was a school of great prestige in other parts of the country, but unheard of hereabouts, and then…" Mrs. Evans looked at Lily with a curious expression. "And then he mentioned you, Lily, dear. He said that although his school only accepted certain young people of particular skills, my daughter Lily would most likely be receiving a letter of invitation from Hogwarts within a few weeks."
Mr. Evans was looking at Lily with glowing pride. Petunia, however, glanced warily over at Lily as if she might jump out of her chair and murder them all.
"I…I think I'll go to bed early. I'm not feeling well." Petunia hopped out of her chair and nearly tripped over the cat as she sprinted into the hallway. A door slammed upstairs, and then all was silent.
Lily stared down at her cucumber sandwich, no longer hungry. "Mum…honestly. Do you really think? Its just…", but she couldn't find the words to express how she felt. How anxious, eager, unsettled, and yet curious, she felt. But the feeling that overwhelmed her was loneliness. Even though she and Petunia had always been different from each other, and even though their disagreements outweighed their accords, occasionally they had felt a kinship, a camaraderie, a sisterly love. The look in Petunia's eyes before she left the table was a look that Lily doubted she'd ever forget. In Petunia's eyes, Lily had seen Fear. A Fear of the unknown can never be alleviated so long as the mystery still remains, lurking in the back of one's mind like an indistinct shadow looming just outside of one's peripheral vision. Petunia would never be able to understand Lily. She had been able to sympathize, on occasion, but never fully understand. Now, Lily doubted that she could even evoke Petunia's sympathy. All kinship previously felt had been replaced by Fear, a Fear of the unknown, a Fear of what Petunia could not understand. The letter slid from Lily's hands as tears began to stream down her cheeks. Mr. and Mrs. Evans began to speak, but for some reason, Lily couldn't understand them. Her nose was running and her vision was blurred. Lily watched as the indistinct figures swirled like wraiths in a fog. She blinked, drops scattering off her lashes and onto the napkin her mother handed her, only then realizing that she was crying.
Yes, she would never forget that look in Petunia's eyes.
