Disclaimer: I don't own it.
A/N: New chapter! Here's to hoping that the next one isn't as difficult to write (I got such a case of writer's block halfway through this chapter).
Chapter 6: Rainbows and Storms
(Summer, Second Year)
Once, when I was young and Mary Collins' death still felt like a raw, throbbing wound inside of me, I asked Dad how I would know when I was better. He, unsure of how to respond, muttered something about me just one day knowing that everything was all right, but I wasn't satisfied with his answer; I wanted more concrete proof. Auntie Luna was the one to finally give me that.
"My mother," she said to me in that dreamy voice of hers, "once told me that the Heavens send down signs to answer our questions and guide us through life; one simply has to keep an open eye to find them."
"What will my sign be?" I asked, eagerly latching on to her solution.
She paused thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "A rainbow. Rainbows signal the end of storms."
Ever since that moment, I had loved rainbows, had lived for those rare moments when I caught a glimpse of one. James and Al had laughed at me and told me that I was daft when I shared this with them, but their ridicule did little to upset me; I knew that Auntie Luna was right. A rainbow would always appear when all in my world was well.
I saw a rainbow in the sky during my second week back home, while Céline was in the middle of sharing her "deepest, darkest, dirtiest" secret with me. That was how I knew that our friendship had healed, that everything was all right between the two--two, not three, because Hugo was still distrustful of Céline--of us.
"Oh, Lily, it's just not fair!" Céline's voice melodramatically exclaimed as we lay side by side in the grass, still wet as it was from the three-day long rainstorm. "I finally understand why Sophie was so devastated by his rejection! I would've been, too!"
"Come on, Céline," I said, rolling my eyes. "You are not in love with Roger Davies." I couldn't understand why every one of my part-Veela cousins was falling for this boy; what was so special about him?
Céline let out a loud huff of annoyance. "You don't understand. Every time that I so much as think about him, breathing becomes harder and my skin starts to tingle. If that's not love, I don't know what is!"
"That's infatuation, not love. There's a difference." Although, if I was completely honest with myself, I didn't know the difference, either; I was just repeating what I'd seen on television and films.
"You're just mad that he's five years older than me," Céline muttered petulantly, as if this fact had no importance whatsoever. I felt like I was dealing with Rose's crush on Teddy all over again.
I turned onto my side to face her. "What? You don't think that alone is valid enough of a reason to stay well away from Roger?" I asked disbelievingly. "Because, if you don't, you should really see a therapist or something."
"It's not that big of an age difference, Lily. When I'm ninety and he's ninety-five, no one will think that I'm too young for him."
I laughed at that. "Right, well, if you still love him in seventy-eight years, then I promise I'll give you my blessing."
"Ugh, you're hopeless!" Céline said, shaking her head disgustedly. "Let's talk about something else; you're lack of compassion is depressing me."
I rolled myself back to my original position and shrugged. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"
"Your deepest, darkest, dirtiest secret," she answered immediately, eagerly. I could tell that this was the part of our discussion that she had really been looking forward to. "It's only fair that you share, since I told you mine."
There were many "deepest, darkest, dirtiest" secrets that I could have told her about--my drawings, my friendship with Scorpius Malfoy, my desire to be in Slytherin--but I settled on a safer, yet still sufficiently "dark," option. "I was secretly a little happy when Alice chose to go out with Perseus because it meant that she had given up pining for James."
"Ooh, this is going to be a good one, I can tell," Céline said, and she cracked her fingers as if she were preparing herself for a fight--an assessment which, I thought, maybe wasn't as far off the mark as I wished it were. "I'll start with the easy questions, and we'll work our way up from there."
"Hey!" I exclaimed, flailing my leg out in an attempt to kick her. I missed. "I didn't ask you hard questions!"
"Well, that's your fault, not mine, isn't it?" I didn't have to glance over at her to know that she was smiling deviously. "So, first things first: do you like Alice?"
"Yes! She's the sweetest, most thoughtful, most caring--"
"Okay, I get the point," Céline interrupted. "No need to give me a lecture about her." I elbowed her in the side in mock anger, but she took insult to that. "Hey! No need to resort to violence!" She elbowed me back twice as hard before I could move away, then asked, "How did you respond when Alice first told you the news?"
"I was a little shocked at first--I mean, she never used to pass up the chance to ramble on to me about how perfect James was--but she looked she so happy that I was happy for her. It was only after I had thought about what her dating Perseus meant that I began to be happy for other reasons."
"And what were--are--those other reasons?" Céline asked, and I squirmed uncomfortably. "Oh, don't be like that. You brought this on yourself when you elbowed me."
"Well, I began to realize that--if Alice didn't, you know, fancy James anymore--I wouldn't ever have to share him with her," I said simply, but I knew Céline would understand the volumes of feeling that went along with that thought. It wasn't too long ago that she was smarting over Victoire's engagement to Teddy, after all. "And I know that's selfish and horrible of me, but I can't help it. I don't want my big brother--my protector, idol, hero--to become hers instead."
"You're not being selfish, Lily--well, no, you are being selfish--but that's only because you're human and can't help it; it's natural for you to feel this way." Céline's tone was no longer teasing; it was sympathetic.
I still felt uneasy, guilty, but I nodded my head anyway. "Of course it is."
"No, Lily," Céline said, sitting up so that she could look down at me, "you need to understand this. It is natural. I felt exactly the same that you do--still do, as a matter of fact. Are you saying that I'm purposely being selfish?"
"Of course not!" I quickly assured her. "You're a part-Veela--"
"This emotion's entirely human, trust me," Céline said bitterly.
I had no idea how to respond to Céline's words, so I was thankful when Mum interrupted the two of us to tell Céline that Auntie Fleur wanted her back home. Céline's Aunt Gabrielle had come to Shell Cottage to spend a night, and she wanted to see her nièce favorite. "Our dinner is ready, as well, love," Mum added when I made no move to enter our house, and I quickly sprung up from the ground.
I drew Scorpius Malfoy for the first time later that night because, for reasons inexplicable to me, Céline's talk of love and Roger Davies had brought him back to the forefront of my mind. I had thought, once I'd started, that I would have difficulty remembering exactly what he looked like, but this couldn't have been further from the truth; I had little trouble at all making the sketch a believable representation of him.
While I was lost in my own little world of drawing Scorpius, Al came barging into my room with Leo in his arms. I feared for a few seconds that he'd catch sight of the sketch in my hand and immediately recognize the figure, but he did nothing of the sort. He merely complained that Leo had been annoyingly affectionate lately, following him everywhere. "I wouldn't mind," Al continued, "but he's not a small kitten anymore. He practically suffocates me every time he sits on me."
I resented that--the insinuation that my cat was fat--but I could hardly deny what he was saying; Leo had gained weight, and very suddenly too. "Suffocation is a bit of an exaggeration, Al."
"Says you," he replied back, dropping Leo none too gently on my bed. Leo immediately scrambled off and started to rub Al's calf lovingly with his furry black face. "Merlin, why won't he leave me alone already?"
"Because he loves you," I said, grinning at Al's disgusted expression. "My cat L-O-V-E-S's you, Albus Severus Potter."
"Shut up," Al said embarrassedly, giving Leo a light push in my direction. "Go on, go to your Mum. She's the one that feeds you, not me--not that you need any more food, of course."
I giggled a bit. "Don't listen to Al, Leo, because he's being stupid. You can have all the snacks you want."
Weight gain, however, soon proved to but one of my family's many worries regarding Leo, for he suddenly started to throw up nearly everything he ate. Mum and Dad, when I told them what was happening, both got very nervous looks on their faces and said that I should get Leo checked out, that he might be sick. I was horrified at the thought; what if something was seriously wrong with Leo, what if he died?
Mum set up an appointment at a veterinary clinic for the following Thursday, which meant I spent three days apprehensively waiting for news. Yet, for the all the worries that Leo's apparent sickness had caused me, it did, at least, manage to fix one issue in my life: Hugo and Céline, out of a shared sympathy for my hardship, once again became friends. With the two of them united in their efforts to cheer me up, I found it hard, even during those painful few days, to be completely depressed.
The two even got a laugh out of me one day. We'd been talking once again about Roger Davies--whom Céline, by this time, was "so over"--and the ongoing drama between him and the twins--he'd left Angelique over the summer for Sophie--when Céline mentioned some article in Witch Weekly magazine.
"Oh, I read that!" Hugo exclaimed.
Céline stared blankly at Hugo for a minute, then asked slowly, "You read the Witch Weekly magazine article 'How Well Do You Know Your Man?'" Hugo nodded uncertainly; he knew he had said something wrong, but he didn't know exactly what that something was. "You read Witch Weekly?" Her eyes met mine, and then we both burst out laughing at the same time. "Oh, Hugo, I've missed you so much."
"Oh, Merlin, I don't even read that magazine, and I'm a witch," I said, gasping for breath all the while, when we'd finally stopped laughing.
"Well," he began, his ears turning a fiery, flaming red, "I don't really read it, but Rose does, and it just happened to be lying around. I figured I'd, you know, give it a try, see what it was like." Céline and I giggled again at his explanation. "Hey, I have an idea!" he exclaimed over our laughter. "Let's go back to talking about Sophie and Angelique. Great plan, right?"
Neither Céline nor I wanted to let our amusement go so easily, but, as Hugo seemed to be genuinely mortified, we gave in. "Fine. Sophie, then. Well, as I was saying, Angelique had invited Roger over, and he found the magazine in her room, so, naturally, he wanted to her to answer the questions. Should have been no problem, right, since they've been dating for half a year?"
"But," I said, "of course, it was a problem."
Céline nodded her head, once again regaining her eagerness to share her news. "Exactly. Angelique couldn't answer one question that the article asked--well, except for his birthday, because she could clearly remember her gift to him, if you know what I mean--"
"No, what do you mean?" Hugo interrupted, grinning playfully.
"Oh, stop it, you!" Céline lightly smacked Hugo's shoulder.
I frowned. "Wait, I actually don't get it." When Céline and Hugo turned to look at me incredulously, I felt like an idiot; I knew I should have kept my mouth shut like I'd been originally intending.
"Ah, Lily, I envy your naivety sometimes." I glared at Céline, but she merely laughed.
"Let me to try to explain it to you," Hugo offered, fighting a fierce battle not to grin. Why did he know and not me? "You see, young Lily, when a man and a woman love each other very much--"
And suddenly I got it. "Oh. Oh. Wow, I hadn't realized that Angelique was…" I let my sentence trail off to nothing. Perhaps this should have been more obvious to me, but I was blown away by the information that I'd just received.
"Yes, well, that's why you're naïve, dear. So, anyway, continuing on, Sophie 'happened'"--Céline finger quoted here--"to be passing by the room, and she was able to answer every single question. Roger dropped Angelique like a hot potato and started snogging Sophie right there in Angelique's room."
"That's incredibly depressing. For Angelique, I mean."
Céline shrugged. "If she knows nothing about her boyfriend, then I'd say she deserves it."
"Well, still," I said, "he didn't have to kiss Sophie right in front of her. He could have at least gone to Sophie's room." I knew I'd hate to see my boyfriend snog my twin sister right in front of me--well, I would if I had a twin sister.
"I have to say I agree with Lily on this," Hugo added, and I smiled at his support.
"I know it's a bit callous, but that's Roger for you--which, yes, is the reason why I don't like him anymore," Céline said, answering my unasked question.
This talk, however much it helped to keep my mind off of Leo for a time, could not soothe my anxiety later that day. I tossed and turned all night, and ended up finally falling asleep on my arm, so that, when I woke up the next morning, it was entirely numb. I panicked for a few moments that I'd have to have my arm amputated--James had once warned Al that, if he woke up with a numb arm, then he'd never be able to use it again--but, once the blood started to flow through my veins freely once again, I quickly regained feeling.
The vet, when my parents and I brought Leo in, spoke little while she examined him. She asked the occasional question, and one of the three of us answered the best that we could, but the atmosphere in the room was too thick with tension for any idle talk.
At last, the vet wrote something down, smiled at the assessment, and turned to face us. "Leo is perfectly fine," she assured us, and I let out a sigh of relief; he'd live to see more than two years of life. "Her weight gain is completely normal, as is her change in personality. All pregnant cats experience such symptoms."
My eyes quickly met Dad's; he looked as shocked as I felt. "But, Leo... he's a boy," I said, utterly confused.
"Leo," the vet disagreed, "is most certainly not a boy."
"He--she--is pregnant?" Dad asked, his jaw dropping. "How is that possible? I mean, I know how, but... well..."
"But we thought Leo was: a) a girl, and b) neutered," Mum finished for Dad, as he seemed incapable of logical speech. "We planned it this way so we wouldn't have little kittens running around our house!"
"You should always double-check these things before you buy a pet," the vet chided, staring disappointedly at us all. "Stores are not fail-proof; they often check for gender early on, when it's still difficult to tell, and never bother to check again. But, if you are set against keeping the kittens--because there isn't anything you can do now to prevent their birth--you can give them up for adoption when they reach a suitable age. It's unadvisable, however, to separate them from their mother while they're still young; you should wait a couple of months before doing so."
"Give them up?" I asked. "Separate them from their fa--mother?" My eyes filled with tears at the thought. "Oh, Mum, we can't! We'll have to keep them."
"We are not going to keep them, Lily," Mum said, shaking her head. "In fact, you're never going to get another pet as long as you live. Right, Harry?"
Dad, however, didn't respond straight away; instead, he looked thoughtfully at Leo for a few moments, then at my heartbroken expression. At last, no doubt to hold at bay the tears threatening to spill from my eyes, he said, "Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to keep them. They could, you know, keep us company when the kids go back to Hogwarts."
Mum, this time, was the one to pause. She looked from Dad, to me, to Dad, to me. Then, "I'm going to be overruled in this, aren't I? Beaten down day by day until I myself finally fall in love with the kittens and don't want to give them up?"
"Of course."
"Fine, then," Mum said with a long-suffering sigh, "we can keep them." I positively beamed at her.
Which was how summer soon found our family slaving away to keep my pregnant cat happy. We had to brush her, play with her, feed her special dietary foods, keep her comfortable, etc.; it was a relief when she finally gave birth towards the end of July--or, rather, it was a relief to all of us except Al, because Leo had chosen his bed as her birthing site--to three kittens, named Jinx (James thought this was a great name), Merlin (James wanted to be able to exclaim "By Merlin!" while referring to the cat), and Yellow (sarcastically suggested by Al after he had heard James' contributions).
Most of August passed by in a blur of kitten-related activities; I'd spend hours letting them crawl on me while I drew their progression from newborns to kittens to young cats. Mum, seeing how much I adored them, at one point pulled me aside to remind that this wouldn't happen again; Leo was getting neutered as soon as possible, as were the new kittens. I was only mildly disappointed, because, really, four cats were more than enough for me.
It was during the last few weeks of the summer holidays that I began to hear the Malfoy family--usually an avoided topic--mentioned in our household. The Malfoys held an unusual place in society: they were recognized as having switched to the good side in the war against Voldemort, but they were still subject to the stigma that accompanied all known Death Eaters. With regards to the latter, Malfoy Manor was searched by Aurors every single week of the year to make sure that no one slipped back into practicing Dark magic, that no Dark objects could be found in the house. Draco Malfoy had let this happen with relative passivity for more than two decades--he was waiting patiently for some release to come of its own accord--but, when no sign of end came in sight, he finally snapped and sued the Ministry of Magic for an invasion of privacy.
My family had very mixed feelings about this topic; they supported equal rights in the Wizarding world--especially Auntie Hermione--yet how could they defend a Malfoy? Sure, they argued, Narcissa Malfoy had lied to Voldemort to keep Dad alive, but hadn't that only been out of fear for her son, not out of a compassion for muggleborns? In the end, I was one of the few people who sided with the Malfoys, and the only one who didn't do so reluctantly.
"How can you stand it?" Al asked me one day when Hugo and Rose had both come over. We all knew that our parents we probably discussing the same exact topic. "Supporting the Malfoys like that?"
I shrugged. "They made a mistake in supporting Voldemort, Al, but they changed sides in the end, right? So don't they deserve a second chance?"
"But they didn't believe that they had made a mistake, Lily," Rose said, shaking her head. "They were firmly in favour of eliminating all muggleborns. They supported Voldemort both times that he rose to power, and only switched sides each of these times when Voldemort was about to fall or had already fallen from power, when they knew that their cause was lost for the time."
"That seems more like cowardice to me than ill-intent. And," I continued when Al opened his mouth, cutting off what I knew his response would be, "even if it was ill-intent, why should Scorpius be punished for his parents mistakes? I mean, isn't that what all this really boils down to: Draco doesn't want his son to grow up with weekly inspections hanging over his head?"
"Pfft, Scorpius is enough of an ars--I mean, jerk, that he probably does deserve to have this over his head," Al said.
"I thought you didn't mind Scorpius?" I challenged, crossing my arms. I could clearly remembering him saying that Scorpius Malfoy's only aggravation was the fact that he got better grades than Rose. "That he didn't do anything to particularly annoy you, except perhaps be smart."
"Well, no, he's not a Chase Zabini," Al agreed, "but he still hangs out with Chase Zabini and that crowd, so he can't really be a good guy." I begged to differ with that assumption.
"Besides," Hugo added, "he's in Slytherin, and Dad always tells me that all Slytherins are evil."
"They are not all evil!" I exclaimed, shocked at Hugo's--and Uncle Ron's--small-mindedness. I knew for a fact that Scorpius wasn't evil--or even mean, as his aloofness seemed to indicate--because he'd had plenty of chances to hurt me before now and he hadn't done so. He'd been nicer to me, to tell the truth, than my own best friend Céline had been. Even if he was sarcastic and snarky, at least he didn't get angry with me for no reason.
To my great surprise, Al concurred. "That's true; they aren't all evil. I was named for a Slytherin, after all, and Dad wouldn't have done that if he was evil."
"Still," Hugo said, abashed, "Lily shouldn't be so pro-Malfoy."
"Yes, she does seem to feel very strongly in their favour," Rose commented, eyeing me suspiciously. "I wonder why that is." I said nothing, though I could feel my body tensing. "Perhaps you'd like to enlighten us?"
"It's not that I care about him in particular," I said stiffly, feeling the necessity of at least some explanation. Silence could only make Rose's words worse. "I just feel that everyone should have equal rights, should be given more than one chance. It's just as bad to stereotype someone based on his school House as it is to stereotype someone based on his blood."
"Now, there's a controversial statement." Rose, however, didn't look offended; instead, she nodded her head as if I'd just confirmed her thoughts.
"But, Lily," Al said, "Houses are determined by personality, which you can control to a certain extent, while blood is uncontrollable."
"Another controversial statement." Rose smiled now. "Can someone ever truly control his personality? I mean, sure, it can alter with different experiences in life, but can it ever completely flip? Isn't one really born with a personality?"
I wondered why Rose had switched to argue my side, but I sent her a thankful look nonetheless. "Besides, Houses don't guarantee certain personalities. Look at the spectrum in Gryffindor alone: superficial people like my roommates, studious people like Rose, athletic people like James--"
"Okay, we get the point," Hugo cut me off, rolling his eyes. "But I stick by my words: all Slytherins are bad news."
"That's--"
"Hey, Lily," Rose said suddenly and too loudly, interrupting my exclamation. Hugo, Al, and I turned questioningly towards her. "I have to go to the bathroom. Could you come with me?"
"Again with this?" Hugo demanded, staring at us both as if we were completely daft. "It's, what, five metres away?" I ignored Hugo.
"Sure," I said uncertainly, standing up to follow Rose inside. She led me to my room instead of to the bathroom. "Lily?" she asked, once the door had been shut behind us. "Do you remember the time, right before the Christmas holidays, that you said, 'There is some good in them,' but you wouldn't tell me to what you were referring?"
My throat suddenly felt dry. "Er, yes, I do," I answered nervously. "Why?"
"Did this…" Rose paused, then started again, "Did this have anything to do with Scorpius Malfoy?"
"Maybe," I said neutrally, though the effect was marred by the embarrassed and somewhat guilt-implying heat that had come into my cheeks. Rose said nothing, her face a mask. "Are you… upset?"
Another silence, then a decisive, "No." My eyes widened in shock. "I trust your judgment; if you say he's got some good in him, then I'll believe you."
"He does, Rose," I told her. "He has a lot of good in him. His aloofness is just a facade that he hides behind."
My assurance seemed to cause her an internal struggle--I doubt that she was really expecting me to outright say that--but at last she let out a sigh of acceptance. "Okay. I said I'd believe and I do. Just, er, promise me that you'll be careful with him."
I agreed to her condition eagerly, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from my heart. Rose had given me hope that, in the inevitable storm that my friendship with Scorpius would create among all Weasleys and Potters, at least I'd have one ray of sunlight to guide me and support me.
