Lily
"Mum! It's September 1st! We have to get on our way to London!" Lily shouted, standing at the foot of her mother's bed. The paisley pattern of it is so nostalgic, she remembers curling up in their bed all the time as a kid.
"Yes... I'll be down in a few…" her mum mumbled, still half-asleep.
Lily shook her shoulders. "Mum, I've been up since half past five making sure I have everything packed. I can't be late this year!"
Her mother groaned. "Alright, I'm up," she muttered, clearly annoyed. Lily smiled victoriously.
Her mum glanced at the clock. "Blimey, it's only eight… fine, I'll get ready."
"Thank you, Mum. Dad's already up—he's got your tea brewing," Lily added sweetly.
Her mother gave her a sleepy smile and waved her out of the room. As Lily turned around, she came face to face with her sister, arms crossed and lips pursed.
"Hello, Tuney," Lily said brightly, already sensing the brewing argument—there usually was one on September 1st.
"Don't you 'Hello' me. And don't call me Tuney. We're not five," Petunia snapped.
Lily took a deep breath. She had hoped to pretend this summer had gone amicably.
"I love your hair," Lily offered. "Though I doubt my leaving is the special occasion you got all dolled up for."
Petunia's hair was curled—unusual. While the stringy blonde texture matched their mother's, the style suited only one of them. On their mum, it was flattering. On Petunia... not so much.
"I have a date, as a matter of fact. With a boy," Petunia sniffed, holding her head a little higher.
"Thanks for the clarification, Tunes. Who's the lucky one?" Lily teased.
"Stop calling me that!" Petunia barked.
"What's got your knickers in a twist, Petulant?" Lily replied, strolling past her into her room. Petunia followed, scowl deepening.
"Petulant? What does that even mean?"
"Nothing. Just... your predominant personality trait," Lily quipped, flashing her a smile.
Petunia huffed. "You know, you're right. I should be happy you're leaving. Then I can pretend we're a normal family. But no one will ever forget the brilliant Lily Evans. Only I see you for what you really are…"
"A freak," they said in unison.
Petunia shrieked and stormed off. Lily sighed. She just wanted to be seen as normal—for once. To Muggles, she was a freak because she was different. To many in the wizarding world, she was a freak because she came from a Muggle family. She didn't belong anywhere.
And it was only eight in the morning.
"Hiya, Lils," her dad greeted, flipping waffles on his beloved waffle iron—the one she'd gifted him for Christmas. He loved creating new flavors and combinations.
"Hello," Lily replied, far less cheerful than usual. Her father gave her a curious look, concern glinting in those familiar green eyes—just like hers.
"The Lily I know would be bursting with excitement to return to school."
"I was," Lily began.
He nodded knowingly. "You have to understand, today's hard for your sister. You have something that separates you. If you both had magic or vice versa, it wouldn't be like this."
"I know. I try so hard to understand her. I want us to be best friends again—like we were when we were little. She's my sister. Family's supposed to be there for you. And every time she calls me a freak or outcast, it just... it kills me."
She paused, weighing out how much she should clue her dad in. She hides every copy of the Daily Prophet that gets delivered and buries the stress that comes with it. "And Hogwarts isn't much better. Some students hate me because I'm Muggle-born. They jeer at me in the halls—well, not everyone. But there's a specific group, it's a political thing. They call me 'Mudblood' because my family isn't magical. Even Severus did once…"
She began to cry.
She hadn't allowed herself to think of Severus in months. Her former friend. Her neighbor. The one who cared for her. The one who used that word.
She never told her family about the bigotry she faced. About the fear. Or about the good people—like James Potter. Arrogant, yes, but brave. Always standing up for others, no matter their blood. She thought about him a good bit since she ran into him in Diagon Alley. He had befriended a boy in first year from a known elitist family and made that boy his best friend. Then saving that same boy this summer. James protected his friends fiercely, that much was clear.
"I have my close friends. But most of the pure-blood ones are starting to distance themselves. For safety. No one wants to be seen with someone like me. They can't associate with my impure blood. At least other Muggle-borns can go home and escape the bigotry. Not me."
Her father didn't say a word. He simply gestured behind her.
Lily turned.
Petunia stood in the hall, stunned, mouth agape. Lily quickly wiped her tears, bracing herself. But instead of a snide remark, Petunia rushed forward—and hugged her. Almost tackled her, really.
"I'm sorry," Petunia stammered. "I–I had no idea."
Lily couldn't find the words. She wanted to be angry. But this—this was her sister seeing her, really seeing her—for the first time in years. She cried into her shoulder.
Their mother walked in, blinking in surprise.
"I'm not sure if this is good or bad," she muttered, eyeing her two crying daughters.
The girls laughed through their tears and pulled her into the hug.
It wasn't a perfect ending, but it was enough. Lily didn't want to leave now. Not when things were finally healing. But Hogwarts was calling.
James
"You boys better get downstairs. You have got a train to catch!" James' mother called.
James and Sirius scrambled out of bed. Sirius ended up with his trousers on backwards; James's shirt was misbuttoned.
"You both look ridiculous," Mrs. Potter sighed. "Merlin help you, James—please do something to that hair."
James patted his unruly mop. It was no use.
"Controlling James' hair is like asking me not to be good-looking," Sirius said smugly. Even Mrs. Potter cracked a smile.
"It defies nature! It won't even stay down with your father's hair potion!"
"Morning, boys. And my beautiful wife," Mr. Potter said, walking in and stealing a piece of bacon. He kissed her on the forehead.
"Oi, we'd better give them the room," Sirius whispered, grinning.
James laughed as his mum glared, but his dad chuckled. They kissed again.
"You boys better make sure your bags are packed," Mrs. Potter said, feigning sternness.
"Oh don't be so coy, Mrs. P," Sirius teased, winking. "We'll leave you two kids alone."
James could see her struggling to keep a straight face. She didn't smile—but her twitching mouth and twinkling eyes betrayed her.
"Alright, we're going!" James laughed.
They grabbed their trunks and owls and headed downstairs. They'd packed last night—just to avoid his mother's scolding.
The manor, with its private Quidditch pitch and sprawling grounds, made James feel grateful. Life wasn't perfect—but it was his, and it was full of love.
"Prongs?" Sirius asked, voice soft.
"Yeah?"
"Things aren't ever going to be the same, are they? I mean... I left my family. I'm probably already burnt off the family tree. Voldemort's getting stronger. We're safe at Hogwarts... for now. But after that?"
Sirius looked so vulnerable.
"I reckon things haven't been the same for a while," James replied. "But it's up to us to fight. And we will."
"Old Voldy could never match the Marauders," Sirius grinned. But they both knew it wasn't that simple. Everyone's been saying that no one escapes Voldemort. The newspapers have been talking, neighbors gossip in hushed tones, no one even wants to say his name anymore. They sit in silence left to wonder how it would all play out.
"Ready, boys?" Mrs. Potter said, holding out her arm. Mr. Potter did the same for Sirius.
"Yes!" they chorused. A whoosh later, they landed in the King's Cross bathroom.
"Oi! Look at the time. Let's move—it leaves in minutes!" Sirius shouted.
"Bye, Mum! Bye, Dad! I'll see you at Christmas. Love you!" James called as he ran with his trolley.
"I'll race you to the entrance, Paddy!"
"You're on!"
James made it to Platform 9 ¾ narrowly before Sirius. "HA!" he hooted in joy.
"You only won because I didn't run over that little girl. Being a gentleman and all, I didn't run her over," Sirius explained.
"Oh, sure, Padfoot. Just admit I'm better. I've got the speed of a Chaser."
They spotted Remus and Peter entering a compartment.
"Trying to beat me there too?" James joked as Sirius hurried in front.
"Course not. Just don't want to be stuck next to the rat!" Sirius quipped. James tried to push past, but Sirius blocked him.
"Hey!" Peter complained. They all laughed.
"See I've got the strength of a Beater and all."
"Oh shut it and go in already."
Sirius laughed and walked in.
"Hey, Moony. How are you recovering?" James asked, thinking of the full moon a few days ago.
"Not bad. Just this weird antler-shaped bruise on my chest. No idea where it came from," Remus said dryly.
Everyone laughed—except James, who had just spotted Lily. She was laughing with her friends, radiant as ever. Without thinking, he stood up.
"Oh come on, Prongs. It's never gonna happen," Sirius muttered.
James slumped back. "I got it, okay? I just want to be her friend."
Peter patted his shoulder supportively, which made him feel worse.
"'Member what I said the other day, we're going to find you a good girl. You've got a whole section of 'em during our matches—though mine is bigger."
"Yeah, Prongs, Melissa Bones wouldn't stop bugging me last term in Herbology, thinking I could convince you to fancy her. It was pathetic, honestly"
"What about Missy Edgecombe?" Remus added. "She liked you last year if I remember."
"That Ravenclaw?" James asked.
Sirius looked awkwardly at his boots.
"Well... I may have had a thing with her in fourth year. Wasn't worth it. She snitched on me to the Head Girl. We had to serve detention with Filch for a week! Horrible kisser too."
"What about Selene—"
James stood again. "I appreciate it. But I can handle myself."
He walked out, all the way to the front of the train. Near the Prefect's carriage, he turned around.
All he wanted was someone to love—and for that someone to be Lily Evans. But she hated him. He's tried, and maybe he's tried in the wrong ways and at bad times, maybe he's screwed it up more times than he could count. But no one makes him feel the way she does. Even if she despises him. It'd be enough just to be close to her, he thinks.
"Ja—Potter?" a voice said.
He turned. Lily was there, stepping from her compartment.
"Coming to find me already?" she teased.
"I just needed some air," he said, more seriously. "And just so you know... I won't ask you out anymore. I got the message."
She didn't seem to know what to make of that statement.
"Oh. Well... I suppose now's a good time for you to fill me in on your summer. You made a promise."
James smiled. "Only if you tell me about yours."
"You strike a hard bargain, Potter."