A/N: Hey, guys! So first off, I want to thank all my super-awesome reviewers for this chapter: -EHWIES, deisegirl, Jessluvsharry, EatenByFlowersAndStillLaughing, FallingForFootie, DistractedButSerious, JPx3LE, the sudoku kid, TsubasaSyaoforever, prongster, and xXxAliceXCullenxXx! You guys are amazing. So this chapter's a little bit short...sorry about that, but I didn't want to stretch it out for the sake of word count, and I like it the way it is, so you guys can just review and complain about it. But for now...read on!
Chapter Six: Sisters and Holidays
"Mum!"
Lily was dragging her trunk behind her as fast as her small stature would allow, elbowing past clumps of people, a look of excitement plastered on her face. Harry spotted Mrs. Evans immediately in the crowded train station—she was taller than Lily would ever be, and her red hair was a shade or two lighter than Lily's, but their green, almond-shaped eyes were absolutely identical. She was standing about twenty feet from the entrance to Platform 9 and ¾, craning her neck in search of her daughter. Lily finally pushed through a group of teenagers and came into view. She dropped her trunk and hugged her mother.
"I missed you," Mrs. Evans said into Lily's hair. They pulled apart, Lily looking around expectantly. "Daddy couldn't get off work," explained Mrs. Evans, picking up Lily's trunk and making her way out of Kings Cross, but Lily did not follow her. "But he'll be home when—"
"Where's Tuney?" Lily interrupted, and her mother exhaled slightly, turning around to face her. Judging by Lily's downcast expression, Harry knew that Lily already knew what the answer would be, but she waited for it anyways.
"She hasn't quite…" Mrs. Evans searched for the right word. "…adjusted, yet." Lily, her worst suspicions confirmed, now looked positively miserable. Mrs. Evans ran her hand through Lily's hair in a motherly way and said quietly, "She just needs time, sweetie. Come on, I'll buy you an ice cream on the way home."
"I'm not hungry," replied Lily in a monotone, picking up her trunk and leading her mother back into the Muggle world.
Lily was sitting in the back of a gray Volkswagon, accompanied by her trunk, and Mrs. Evans at the wheel, clearly in the middle of an awkward silence. A light rain had begun to fall from the sky, which was now completely black, as they drove through a suburb that Harry was unfamiliar with.
"I can't wait for you to show me everything you've learned," said Mrs. Evans finally. "Maybe you could conjure up some breakfast for us tomorrow!"
"Mum, I can barely Transfigure a teacup," said Lily, in the same kind of voice she used with James. "We don't even try conjuring until sixth year. And I can't show you anything—we live in a Muggle neighborhood! You're a Muggle, Dad's a Muggle, Petunia's a Muggle…it would be a direct violation of section thirteen of the International Confederation of Warlock's Statute of Secrecy. And I'm still underage, so that means another violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery—"
"Oh, look, we're home," said Mrs. Evans, cutting across her daughter's lecture, most of which Harry was sure she did not understand. Mrs. Evans helped Lily lug her trunk up the driveway to a yellow, average-sized suburban house, complete with a mailbox at the end of the driveway with "EVANS" painted on it. There was a fraying welcome mat on their porch and flowers in the garden. It was like a friendlier version of the Dursley's house.
Mrs. Evans fumbled with the key, and once the door was unlocked, both entered the house. Lily looked around and took a deep breath, as if remembering how her house smelled (like a pleasant combination of Windex and mashed potatoes). Mrs. Evans smiled.
"Miss our boring old house that much?"
"Yeah," said Lily contentedly.
"Katherine? Lily?" called a voice from the kitchen.
"In here, Richard," Mrs. Evans called back, and Lily exclaimed, "Dad!"
Mr. Evans came into view, wearing a lopsided tie and a tired expression, which brightened immediately at the sight of his youngest daughter. He hugged her, picking her up and carrying her over his shoulder into the kitchen, to Lily's protests. Mrs. Evans cut a slice of carrot cake and put it in front of Lily, who had been returned mercifully to her feet. Lily ate it ravenously, looking uncannily like Sirius.
"Chew, honey," said Mrs. Evans, looking a little disgusted and a little amused.
"We saved all of your letters," said Mrs. Evans. "I can't believe half the stuff you're writing about! One of your teachers is a cat?"
Lily swallowed with difficulty. "No, Professor McGonagall is an animagus," she explained, already loading her fork with a new bite if cake. "She can turn into a cat whenever she wants to."
"Could you learn how to do that?" said Mr. Evans. "Turn into a cat?"
Lily, her mouth full again, shrugged, but before she could swallow and give an articulate answer, a shrill voice penetrated the air from the upstairs.
"Some people are trying to sleep, you know!"
Petunia. Harry guessed that somehow Lily had forgotten all about her sister in the midst of her monologues on magic to her parents, but her face immediately fell again and she pushed away her cake.
"I'll go talk to her," said Mrs. Evans, hastily dropping the dishtowel she was holding and exiting the room.
Mr. Evans opened his mouth, as though to ask a question, but closed it again, and he and Lily sat in the kitchen, listening to the muffled voices from Petunia's bedroom.
"—won't tolerate this behavior anymore, Petunia. She's your sister, for God's sake!"
"She can stay at that stupid freak school for all I care! The way she writes those letters you'd think she'd rather live there anyways!"
Harry was surprised Petunia had even read Lily's letters at all, but was not given time to think about it, because the voices floating downstairs were becoming louder.
"Petunia Rosemary Evans, you get your rump downstairs and see your sister this instant! I didn't make you come to the platform, but this is silly! And it's almost Christmas!"
"Fine!" The footsteps Harry heard above them were rather louder than necessary. Petunia emerged in the kitchen, wearing pink pajamas, her face contorted sourly.
"Welcome home, freak," snarled Petunia, and she stalked out of the room without waiting for a reply or reprimand.
Snow was falling outside the Evans' kitchen window, and Lily and Petunia were eating cereal at opposite ends of the kitchen table in stony silence while Mrs. Evans hummed Christmas carols. The television was on in the adjacent room, where Harry saw that the presents under the Evans' Christmas tree had been reduced to scraps of wrapping paper.
"—found dead in her bed yesterday morning. Paramedics were called by her daughter, but they were unable to resuscitate. The autopsy reveals no sign of illness, nor any indication of the cause of death. At the time of her death, Julianna Lester, thirty-nine, was alone in her home. Her daughter returned an estimated two hours after her death, noting no signs of a break-in. Neighbors—"
"Richard, change the channel!" Mrs. Evans called into the next room. "On Christmas, honestly…"
The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," offered Petunia, clearly glad to a reason to leave any room Lily was in. Harry heard the door open.
"Who is it?" called Mrs. Evans, following Petunia to the door.
"Nobody," said Petunia, already shutting the door. "He was just leav—"
"Severus!" said Mrs. Evans happily, and Lily brightened at the mention of her friend's name. "Come in, come in, you must be freeing. Lily's over here, in the kitchen." Lily slid off her chair as Snape came into the kitchen, dressed in jeans that had been rolled up several times and a gigantic sweatshirt stained with what Harry recognized as Firewhisky, holding a small package. He was reminded horribly of himself in Dudley's enormous hand-me-downs.
"Marry Christmas," he said.
"Sev!" Lily hugged her friend, who twitched a little, looking extremely taken aback, but pleased all the same. He hugged her back, and Petunia gagged. Lily pulled away.
"Here." He held out the package, which, Harry noticed, had been badly wrapped with an old issue of the Daily Prophet.
"Hold on, you're presents' in my trunk." Lily headed up the stairs and Snape followed.
"You didn't have to get me anything," said Snape, but Lily ignored him. They had reached the landing and went inside the first door on the left—Lily's (surprisingly untidy) room—and it did not go unnoticed by Harry that Snape seemed to know which room was hers. Lily rummaged through her trunk in the corner before producing a larger box and handing it to Snape, who was sitting with his back against Lily's bed.
"Merry Christmas, Sev." She sat next to him, and Snape accepted Lily's present, though he waited for Lily to open hers first. She did, and gasped when she had ripped off the last of the newspaper wrapping and opened the box concealed inside.
"Oh, Sev…" she was holding up a golden chain, on the end of which was a locket.
"Open it," said Snape. She did; inside the locket was a moving picture of Lily and Snape at Hogwarts, laughing on the grounds by the lake on a sunny day. Lily closed it.
"Where did you get this?" asked Lily quietly.
"It's my mother's," explained Snape. "But don't worry," he added hastily, when he saw that Lily now looked a little uneasy, "she's to drunk to notice it's gone." These words did not have the effect Snape had been hoping for. Lily looked rather like she wanted to give the locket back. "Don't worry about it," Snape told her, as though reading her mind, and hesitantly put his hand on her knee. Harry cringed. "She's never worn this a day in her life. My father got it for her on their anniversary a few years ago. She thinks it's hideous. Please keep it."
Lily smiled a little, and put the locket on her bedside table. Snape looked pleased. "Open mine now. It's not as nice as yours…"
But Snape ad already torn Lily's package open. It was a new pair of shoes.
"I—don't take this the wrong way," said Lily quickly. "It's just, I noticed you needed new ones." Lily looked a little embarrassed. "I hope they fit, I guessed your size." Harry looked down at Snape's shoes—they were far to big for him, and shabbier than any of the adult Remus Lupin's clothing.
"Thank you, Lily," said Snape quietly, pulling off his horrible shoes and putting on the new ones.
"Hey, Greaseball, Freakshow!" Petunia had opened the door louder than necessary, causing all the occupants in the room to jump. She smirked. "Mum's made hot chocolate." Petunia left, and Snape and Lily followed, the memory dissolving behind them.
A/N: So...told you it was short. And it's not very funny...next chapter will be longer, I promise, and not just a filler. A few people have asked me about the pacing of this story, and I DO plan on doing all seven years at Hogwarts, but some will be much shorter than others (for instance, first year's going to end in 3-5 chapters). Anyways, things are going to start to get a little heavy next chapter...don't forget to leave a review! And if any of you have or know of a fic that's really good (preferably LJ), please recommend it!
-Dem