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"I wish- I wish...I wish I wasn't a witch!" Lily cried, twin spots of colour rising in her cheeks. Defiantly, she raised her eyes to meet his, and almost laughed at the expression of abject shock that was stamped across his face.
"I mean... I was alright before. Not the best, but I was getting by just fine. And now-now I've lost-"
He stopped her with his hand over her mouth.
"You may have lost her, but you've won Lily, you've won! You'll be a witch Lily- you're brilliant you know-and she'll always be Muggle!"
"I want that back, Sev."
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'Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.'
It's Lily. Lily Evans of Brixton, London. If you're not a star or not the first star I saw tonight please pass this onto the first star I have seen or will see tonight. Please, let James come home tonight. Please! If he does, I'll tell him about the baby, I swear it! And we'll get married if he really wants and I'll move to the country and I'll even stop running away-truly! I just...I can't make it without him anymore..."
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She's spread-eagled on the grass, cigarette glowing red in the darkness, watching as the smoke curls up and cradles the moon. She watches and smokes and she tries not to think treacherous thoughts about the baby growing inside of her. No, not a baby- a possibility of one. And the moon looks down on her and she's on her knees as her throat closes and the tears fall and she howls, feeling infinitely older than ever before. And she wraps her arms around herself as if to somehow keep it coming out- if she only holds tighter and wishes harder.
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And sometimes she wished she'd never met any of them. Not Sirius, who she'd let affect her for years. Not Remus who she loved to simply be with, who shared her love of sixties and seventies vinyl; who understood what Janis Joplin meant when she sang about the blues. Not Peter, who reminded her of her younger self, always too eager to please and too easily, irrevocably, wounded. Not even James, who'd loved her since he was fifteen, who she loved with everything she had (that wasn't otherwise occupied) and fell in love with all over, time and time again.
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She looks over at James in the greenhouse, hands buried in the soil as he gently cradles a mandrake before re-potting; and wishes they lived different lives. Here, he's James Potter!; Seeker-extraordinaire; Marauding Prankster; Epitome of Cool and Pureblood Poster Boy. Although she knows both the communal boy and burgeoning man, loves both, she thinks it might be nice to be free from schoolyard hierarchy. She thinks it might be nice if he was hers alone. And although she knows it's selfish she sometimes wishes he could be the clueless Muggle boy swept off his feet by the brilliant witch.
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Lily loved the idea of diamonds. She loves the sparkle and the fire and the eternal shine. Loves that they're forever. She wishes she could avoid marriage altogether and wear a diamond on her fourth finger regardless. Thinks of calling her son, if she ever has one, Adam; after Adamas, the Greek origin of diamond, meaning indestructible. She used to think diamonds were made when stars exploded and died; were the fire that was left behind. And then Petunia laughingly told her it was pressure and chemistry coming together deep down in the earth. Secretly, she's holding out for fire.
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Her mother takes the picture as she blows out the candles- five at last!
She gets them in one breath, beaming at her friends and family around the table. They clap and tell her to make a wish; so she scrunches her nose in concentration and finally one pops into her head.
Excited, she bursts out "I hope I get to go to Tunies school when I'm ten; and that Mummy, Daddy, Tunie and me live happily ever after!"
Her wish never came true- her father died three months later; and she never ever uttered a wish aloud after that.
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She thought about all the wishing she'd done until now. The desiring, craving, aspiring and yearning she'd been filled with for months. The hope and trepidation and the elation as she stood on the dais with the other candidates as Dippet spoke about their qualities in turn.
Breath bated as he announced "Without further ado, I offer my congratulations to our newest Head Girl...Lily Evans!"
She breathed a desperate gasp of oxygen; a giant grin spreading across her face as the blood rushed to her cheeks and she stepped forward; letting him pin the shiny gold badge above her heart.
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She paused, chewing the end of the quill, reading what she'd written.
'Dear Padfoot...We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us and who dotes on Harry.' She continued writing.
'I wish you were here.' And stopped abruptly.
She stared at the seemingly innocuous sentence, furious with herself. Scratching it out viciously, she ignored the black stain on the parchment, and began to write again. 'We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first and Harry's not old enough to know it's his birthday anyway!'
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She's made the best of all of them. She's made bad and good; selfish and selfless. And yet, she reflects, despite of repeated warnings to be careful what she wishes (for it may come true); despite everything that's happened, or perhaps because of it, she never gave up hoping, and dreaming, and wishing. And it suddenly dawns that she wouldn't change it for anything. She's wound up with things she's wished fervently for, some she didn't and some she hadn't even imagined. And so, voicing one last wish for her son: 'I hope you desire and dream and wish forever.'
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*Note: Everything is mine except the characters, starlight rhyme and of course, the first and last parts of Lily's letter to Sirius. Reviews/concrit would be much appreciated! Oh, and Lady Bracknell if you're reading, I'm pretty positive you began the much touted Remus Lupin/Janis Joplin craze that's hit fics of late ;D
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