Chapter 2:
"She's doing it again Daddy!" Petunia shrieked, pointing a rather bony finger towards the stairs behind her.
Mr. Evans forced his face to stay neutral through this display, as hard as that was. Petunia did have a way of making the most normal of conversations bring on headaches with her shrill voice. When she was shrieking - as she was doing now - it was only a matter of time before a near-by glass shattered. Drawing a collective breath, Mr. Evans looked up at his firstborn, looking decidedly puzzled. "Again, Petunia dear? Who's doing what?"
Tall and awkward, Petunia came into the kitchen further, her long face grimpsing. "You know! Lily! She's doing it again!"
It, had yet to be told, but the father of the two young girls wouldn't be blissfully ignorant for long. Lily, his youngest at eleven, had slid into the room through the living room doorway opposite of Petunia, her pretty face hid as she looked down, auburn hair covering her head and shoulders. It was odd, for sure, that one daughter had turned out so homely and bony, and the other so soft and pretty. But so it had happened.
"Well!" Petunia bellowed, and again Mr. Evans forced himself to not wince. "Tell him!"
Lily seemed to shrink as both her sister and father's gaze landed on her. Which would have been a feat, indeed, since Lily was short for her age as it was. At that precise moment, Florentyna Evans came up behind Lily, a bright smile on her face that faltered the moment she gazed at the two serious faces, and Lily's, which was brimming in tears.
"What's going on?" she asked in her soft voice, putting a comforting hand on Lily's shoulder.
Lily, however, finally made up her mind that she was not going to disappear, though she certainly would have loved to at that point. So it was only a matter of moments before she would have to tell her parents that, once again, she had made something strange happen. And as a result, the recent peace between her and Petunia was gone, because her older sister had called her a freak and went storming down the stairs to tell the entire house as much.
Lily lifted her chin, determined to not show how much that latter thought bothered her. "Petunia grabbed my diary, and when she ran into the hall with it, the rug pulled, went out from under her and she fell. But I didn't do it!" she insisted at once, shaking her head. "I wasn't even in the hallway!"
"That rug wouldn't have moved by itself!" Petunia shrieked from the other side of the kitchen. "It's laying on carpet, and it can't slide! You did it!"
"Now Petunia, dear, that's a little far fetched, don't you believe?" Florentyna Evans asked, squeezing Lily's shoulder. "Lily couldn't have made that rug move. And you shouldn't have taken her diary, anyway. Now give it back."
Petunia stared defiantly at her mother, her mouth open in what was an amused balance between shock and horror. "But Mum! You know she did it! She's a freak! Always making--" They never did quite find out what Lily was always doing, for at that moment Richard stood up, pointing a firm finger to the stairs.
"Petunia, that is the last straw!" he bellowed, anger making his features contort. "You are grounded until further notice!"
"So, are you visiting the area, then?"
Lily turned her head, taking in the view, setting down her bags. The air was damp and salty- as it normally would be, nearby the sea. The grass was tall and green, rippling as the wind drifted past, teasing at her hair, which she had clipped into a low ponytail earlier. The sky seemed low, an indefinite gray to match the color of the sea, rippling and waving below the hill. A little beyond a grassy knoll, there was a small cemetery. A bit off to the side of that was a small church, where, she was told, her father had grown up attending every Sunday, and, later, was married in.
It all seemed so unfamiliar to her, but this was what her father had once called home. Reaching in the pocket of her purse, she smiled and murmured softly, "Might as well be," as she paid the taxi fare.
"Well, enjoy it- Ireland sure is pretty this time of year," he answered, tipping his hat. Laughing as he stepped into his car, the driver said, "It is every time of the year."
Turning in the direction of the graveyard again, she looked beyond, where a large, white tent had been set up, figures clad in black milling under it already, to avoid the anticipated morning drizzle.
Gripping her bags, she took a step forward, her heart lurching.
Her mind again wandered off....
The distinct sound of the mail slot being pushed open came to their ears. And Lily would have ignored it for a moment or so, except it was soon followed by the door bell ringing. Lily looked at her parents and sister, but none made a move for the door. Getting up, she sleepily walked towards the living room and grabbed the mail off the floor before pulling open the front door.
For a second, Lily was confused. There was no one at the door. She took a step out, looking both ways, but still nothing. Shrugging, she stepped back in and was about to close the door when a large brown barn owl swept into the house, landing on the banister and looked at her. Lily and the owl stared at each other for a long moment, before Lily finally found her voice and did the only thing an eleven year old female would do. Screamed.
Mr. Evans came running down the hall almost instantly, followed by his wife and lastly, Petunia. Lily backed up against the opposite wall, and the owl, looking rather put out, stayed put. Vaguely Lily wondered if an owl *could* look put out when her father seen it. Behind him, her mother gasped. He tried to shoo it away, but the owl remained put, staring at Lily. And that's when Lily noticed for the first time it's claws were clamped onto an envelope.
Curiously, Lily stepped forward. "Daddy, wait, it's holding something," she nearly whispered, advancing on the owl despite the pull of fear in her stomach. Her parents seemed to be crossed between grabbing Lily and running and letting her near the creature. Before they had decided, however, Lily was close enough to read the address written in emerald green.
L. Evans
16 Riverside Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
"It's for me!" she exclaimed, causing the owl to jump slightly. As a result, Lily jumped, too. Suddenly the bird lifted it's wings, hovered for a moment in the air, and dropped the letter right into Lily's grasp. Almost instantly Lily backed away from the bird, staring at the strange letter in her hand.
"Well, who is it from?" Petunia snarled hatefully. Lily ignored her, however, turning the envelope over in her hands to stare at the red wax seal on the back. It was in the shape of a crest with a snake, a lion, eagle and badger around a capital H. Slowly Lily opened the envelope, pulling out what looked to be a piece of parchment, and read aloud:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme
Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)
Dear Miss Evans,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of
necessary books and equipment.
Term begins September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.
Your sincerely,
Minerva Mcgonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Lily stared at the letter, re-reading it several times before looking up at her parents. "We await your owl? What does that mean?" she asked dumbly, taking out a second piece of parchment. Not knowing what to do next, she began reading the second page.
First Year Students will require:
3 sets of plain work robes (black)
1 plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
1 pair protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
1 winter cloak (black with silver fastenings)
Course Books:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
Other Equipment:
1 Wand
1 Cauldron
1 Telescope
1 Set glass or crystal phials
1 Set brass scales
You may also bring an Owl or a Cat or a Toad.
Puzzled, Lily once more glanced up at the owl, then at the letter, and finally her parents. "This is mad!" she declared, stuffing the parchment back into the envelope. "This has to be some kind of trick, right Mum? Dad?"
Her father was shaking his head, as if indeed, he thought it was a joke. Her mother was not. Petunia's mouth was hanging open in disbelief that mirrored what Lily felt, but she couldn't think about anything but the look on her mother's face. She swallowed hard, putting a shaking hand out towards her mother. "Mum?"
"Lily is... Lily is a witch!" Her eyes closed and for a moment, Lily felt like she might faint. Mrs. Evans stared at her daughter intently.
Lily promptly fainted.
When Lily awoke, she was laying on the couch. Her vision blurred momentarily as she stared at the ceiling, trying to remember what had happened. An owl, she recalled, had brought her a letter. The letter said she had been accepted at a school for... witches and wizards? No wonder her head hurt, she thought as she sat up, after a nightmare like that! Standing on shaking legs, she wondered towards the living room.
For some reason, the longer the thought spun around in her head, the more sense it made.
She wasn't really a freak, as Petunia had claimed for years. She was a witch. And she had an acceptance letter to go to what sounded like a very nice wizardry school. And maybe, just maybe, she could find friends there. She wouldn't be an outcast, but just like everyone else. The thought brought a slight smile to her face.
"Mum? Dad?" she whispered, coming further in the room. Both her parents stopped dead, turning hazel and green eyes to their youngest. Lily gulped, noting Petunia's sour look out of the corner of her eye. "Do you think it would be ok, I mean to say--if I went to this school?"
Petunia looked outraged. "Lily," Petunia began slowly "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Lily nodded her head firmly, her heart beating faster than normal. "Yes Tuney," she replied. "I really want to go. I just know that I could find friends there," she finished, almost wistfully. Her parents smiled and nodded their ascent.
Petunia stood up, her eyes wider than Lily thought humanly possible. "Oh, of course you'll let her go," she snarled. Her hands were fists at her side. "Anything for perfect Lily, even if she is nothing but a freak! Go on, then!" she shouted over parents cry of outrage. "Go be with the rest of them!" And before anyone could say or do anything, Petunia ran out of the room and up the stairs.
Her sisters voice brought her back to Earth...
As her sister finished reading the eulogy, Lily looked up towards the sky. No drops of rain had begun to fall yet, but she could almost feel the moistness in the air. She hadn't been able to focus on the eulogy- she found that opening old wounds had never been her strong point. By the time she tried to feel something- like child picking a scab to see if it still hurt- the wound would have been closed up, the sting vanishing while she wasn't looking.
Realizing her sister- and everyone else- was looking at her expectantly, she glanced down at the program. Oh. She was supposed to sing. Petunia stared at her, as if waiting for her to stand. Slowly, she rose from her seat and striding to the podium, acknowledging the bitter, tearful, smiles of encouragement from the crowd.
"And now, my sister, Lily Evans, will lead us in singing 'Amazing Grace'," Petunia said, turning and clapping, as the others- like dumb cows in a pasture being led by their master- followed in suit. Giving her sister a small squeeze with her hand, she turned on her heel and took a seat in the front, her face becoming blank and emotionless.
As she lifted her head to the crowd, Lily noticed that most of the crowd- filled with both familiar and unfamiliar faces- was wearing the same blank expression as her sister, like porcelain dolls with painted faces. They all stared back at her, waiting, waiting for what, she somehow couldn't remember.
Her. Something registered in the back of her mind; they were all waiting for her. Yet somehow, as she opened her mouth to sing the now familiar old hymn, nothing came out. A deadpanned silence followed for a few brief moments, until she, at last, though struggling, managed to sing out the first few lines of the song.
As the words left her lips, flowing and familiar to her mouth though strange and foreign to her ears, Lily surveyed the crowd. It seemed their ears were closed as well, hearing but not truly listening, just as she could watch but couldn't see.
Sad though it was, no tears had been shed yet, strangely enough. It seemed everyone wanted to keep strong for- for whose sake? Hers? Her sister's? Her parents'? All three ideas seemed equally ludicrous to her. And yet, all the faces in attendance were still kept carefully blank, like the faces of painted glass dolls, cold and expressionless.
Faintly, in the distance, she could hear the cry of a seagull. How freeing, how liberating, she thought as she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, to be a seagull. The salty taste of the ocean was in the air, she'd noticed, and wondered briefly if the soaring seagull could feel the difference in the air above the ocean. She wondered if it would be lonely, with simply the spray of the ocean and the crashing waves upon the high rocks as company, or if one could learn to appreciate the solitude. Mostly, she'd wanted all through her life to be able to fly that way… To fly so high and at such speed that one's troubles on the humble earth would never be able to take flight as well and catch up. To defy the omnipresent laws of gravity. To be simply free.
Opening her eyes, she looked up towards the sky. Though gray and indefinite still, the cool wind blowing upon her face, the damp air had still not produced the promised morning rain. She felt vaguely disappointed.
And she was done. Done, her part was done, she no longer had to be in the center of attention. Indeed, as this thought ran through her mind, the seated crowd began to stand, all headed in the direction of the cemetery. She didn't have to look to see where- they were all headed in the direction of the two freshly dug grave plots; a hole, a scar in the ground where her parents would spend the rest of eternity in. Entombed in the Earth, as the Earth gave life, she would also receive it. A fair exchange, Lily thought grimly, as she fixed a small smile upon her face.
"God bless you, dearie," a stout woman dressed in a black dress murmured, shaking her hand with a strong grip. As the woman moved past, blowing her nose on a black silk handkerchief, she wondered what relation she had with her parents. A friend? A distant relative? What did it matter, anyway, now that her parents were dead and the only things she had left of them were a few pictures, letters, and a lifetime of memories? Life had given her a cup that was full and brimming, and had, while she wasn't looking, replaced it with one half empty- filled with cynicism, heartbreak, and bitterness.
"Thank you," she said to the next passing person, shaking their hand. "Thank you for coming."
As she waited through the wishes of goodwill towards the rest of her family, the handshakes, she began to wonder if she was the only one who was feeling as if something precious and valuable had been taken away from her- something irreplaceable had been lost, and a bit of her happiness had been permanently chipped away. And still there was no rain.
"Why wasn't the world crying with her?"