Volume I,

Prelude,

Chapter one:

Is there any chance you could see me, too?

June 1969, Cokeworth, Midlands, England, Great Britain

         Lily Evans had the habit of coming here to play. It wasn’t the case of many kids in the town: the deserted play area had only frameworks in poor condition – barely usable – to offer. However, the run-down structures of the children’s slides and other play equipment opened the nine-year-old's imagination. She swung blithely on the swing, picturing herself as the queen of the kingdom she was flying over. Higher. Always higher! Throwing her legs forward, she aimed for the clouds, and…she flew away. She was literally flying! Oh! How she loved this feeling! And suddenly she wasn’t a queen any longer but a bird.

         “Lily, stop!” her sister yelled, behind her. “Mum told you not to do that!”

         The young red-haired girl landed on the ground with all the grace and lightness of the bird she had thought to be a moment ago. She shook her flaming mane and gave her sister a big smile. “Everything’s alright” she said in a burst of laughter to reassure her. Light-hearted and eager to impress the blond, she added, thrilling: “Now look, Tuney. Look what I can do!”

         The so-called ‘Tuney’ got off her own swing carefully, with a wary look at the ginger. The latter leaned to catch a flower that had fallen from a bush. She inhaled deeply to concentrate. Out of the corner of her eyes she gazed at Petunia who was coming closer. She was going to show her what she could do! It would be enough to erase the worried looks on her face like it was always the case with their parents.

         Her heart was pounding against her chest from excitement. She showed her hand, palm opened, off to Petunia and her worried eyes. Inside, the flower was opening and retracting its petals, hatching out and closing in again and again. A proud smile split Lily’s face as she was raising her eyes toward her sister, grasping to discover the same wonderment in her gaze that she was feeling inwardly. But hardly had she crossed her looks that Petunia ordered her to stop… –Again! No wonder, no astonishment in her eyes. Only fear and cold rejection.

         “She won’t hurt you.” Lily assured, disappointed, her heartbeat slowing down. She closed her hand regretfully upon her creation and let it fall on the ground.

         “It’s not right.” Tuney mumbled, her eyes staring at the flower on the ground while Lily was staring at her face. Was she still afraid of her? “How do you do that?” she added, sounding envious.

         The blond girl was trying hard to mask it from her sister, but there was a glitter in her pupil. The disapproval could not hide it away entirely. A smile cracked on Lily’s face, but it was abruptly interrupted by the outbreak of a strange little boy. Tuney screamed and ran away, Lily raised her eyebrows, taken aback.

         “Isn’t that obvious?” He spoke. His clothes were old and too large for him. He had black long hair, a narrow, hooked nose and bright obsidian eyes. The whole gave him the look of a raven, curious and observant. His eyes crossed Lily’s, he blushed, and looked down, staring at his feet, visibly embarrassed.

         “What’s obvious?” She pressed him, eyebrows still raised, questioningly. Her heart had started pounding again. How she hated that! She could never keep her cool with this bloody organ that was speeding up at the slightest glimpse of excitement. It was always failing her, giving her emotions away!

She wanted to know. Oh, she wanted to know so badly! Did this weird boy have an explanation to give for all this? Something to tell about her strange abilities that could reassure her sister once and for all? Could he? She glanced at the thin girl who was circling around the swings, avoiding looking at them, and he follow her gaze.

         Turning his eyes away, he lowered his tone. “I know what you are”. Lily frowned. That was a strange thing to say.

         “What do you mean?” She asked.

         “You’re– You're a witch!” he responded, a spark in his black eyes.

         That was a mean thing to say. Her heart clenched hard, failing her one more time. She frowned even more. “It’s not nice to say that to someone”. He didn’t have the answer she wanted, she decided. She turned her nose up at the boy, and walked back in Petunia’s direction who was looking at her, arms crossed, a pout on her face.

         “No!” She heard him say, and there he was, running after her, to apologise perhaps. She turned back, looked down at him and his grotesque coat, her sister backing up her disapproving gaze.

         “You’re a witch” He wasn’t apologising. “You are a witch. I’ve seen it, I've been watching you for a while.” Not at all. He was just going to keep insulting her! “But there is nothing wrong with that!” Eh, no? “My mother is one too, and me, I’m a wizard.”

         He looked proud of himself. His eyes were shining, but the glimmer died as a laugh bubbled to life in Petunia's throat.

         “A wizard!” She taunted. All her bravery came back to her: she always looked sure of her whenever she was mean to someone. The scared mouse was gone, devoured by the hyena. “I know who you are. You’re the Snape boy! They live in Spinner’s End, near the river.” She said to Lily with disdain in her voice.

         The ginger girl blinked. That was ringing a bell. She looked at the old rag he was wearing, too long, frayed and worn. The Snape family was discussed around the Evans’ dinner table from time to time. It was constant fuel to satisfy Marigold Evans’ boredom and need to gossip and to reinforce Khalid Evans’ disdain and need to feel superior. Lily never quite paid attention to these repetitive conversations, as she did with any discussion, really. But Petunia, on the other hand, seemed to have.

         Nevertheless, Lily did gather the main things: the father was rude and brutal. The mother had a drinking problem and a harsh look. And their son had no education because they didn’t care to take him to school. Therefore, the young girl had only crossed his path a few times in the town and hardly seized more than a glimpse of the boy.

         Until now.

      Now she could see that he had long dirty hair, a sickly-looking complexion, and old clothes that would probably fit an adult better than a nine-year-old. He was sweating – no surprise ‘cause who took a coat to go out in this weather?!

         Upon those thoughts, Petunia had stepped forwards to protect her sister with her body – which was frankly ridiculous because the redhead could easily defend herself against the puny boy. Her older sister looked down at him even though she was only inches taller than him. “Why were you spying on us?” She sneered, contempt in her eyes.

         As there was in his.

         “I wasn’t spying.” He raised a haughty chin, stood steady and fought her look with defiance. “In any case, I wouldn’t spy on you. You—” He spitted. “You are a muggle.”

Muggle! What did this word even mean! Lily narrowed her eyes, ready to go to war for her sister. However, Tuney ordered the withdrawal with a tone without appeal, so Lily executed it in this instant, without questions. She frowned in the direction of the strange dark-haired boy who stood there speechless, reached out for Petunia’s hand, intertwined their fingers, and wrapped one arm around Tuney’s. Shoulder against shoulder both girls went away with a furious pace, and no look back.

         They walked hand in hand quietly, but not for long. Petunia broke their haughty silence, with a mumble. “—Rude! You? A witch?You! Who he thinks— it’s his mother the witch!” She spitted under her breath, clearly as an insult.

         “So… you don’t think I’m a witch?” Lily asked tentatively with troubled eyes raised to her sister’s face.

         “You’re kidding? Did you ever look at your perfect Greek nose?” Petunia answered with an ironic smirk.

         Lily hadn’t a ‘perfect Greek nose’ in her opinion: it was long, curved at the beginning, and a bit twisted. But it was not hooked, which is the point her sister was trying to make, she believed. The girl chuckled lightly, reassured… for about five seconds. Then her mind started wandering all the way back to their home and long after that. She couldn’t get rid of the thought of those bright obsidian eyes glimmering with excitement and wonder. Something didn’t quite fit about it.

*

*        *

         Lost in her own mind once again, Lily was staring at the inside of her plate – which was full of morsel of fruits at the moment. The evening had shown the tip of its nose, and the Evans family had gathered around the table for dinner. The conversation was going well, as far as the young girl could tell, which wasn’t much. She had stopped listening when Petunia had brought up the topic of the Snapes.

         They were already too present in her mind, in the shape of their boy, without her adding fuel to her rumination by talking about them with the thirsty gossip that the three members of her family were. Actually, she barely had said a word to her parents since both sisters had come back from their early expedition. Not that they mind. They were quite used to the occasional mutism of their younger daughter and thankfully they were taking it quite well most of the time.

         “D’you think…” she started tentatively.

         Lily put down her fork on the table, a worried crease between the eyebrows. All day since she had met ‘that awful boy’ – as Tuney liked to call him – she couldn’t shake his words off her head. She couldn’t keep the insidious feeling that he might be right away. Though, dwelling on it was no use. He didn’t know her! His insult shouldn’t have upset her that much. The sharp words of a naughty boy had no ounce of truth within them. So why? Why did that hurt so much?

         You are a witch.

         “It can happen, sweetheart” Her father said with fondness and the red haired raised toward the man wide questioning eyes. All the faces were turned in her direction. Petunia was frowning, clearly displeased. “Us. Thinking. It can happen.” He added with a mocking smile. “From time to time”.

         Oh! Lily hadn’t finished her sentence. What an idiot! She showed a half-hearted smile. “Yeah…” The girl shook her head, hiding her embarrassment behind her wild hair falling in front of her face. It was no use bothering them with unimportant questions. Her weirdness was enough trouble as it was, no need to add witchcraft to it.

         ‘Witchcraft’… what a weird word that was… How unfitting it felt!

         “What’s wrong, Lily?” Her mother asked softly, like someone would talk to a scared dog. She tended her hand toward hers and brushed the back of it with her fingers. As Lily wasn’t pulling back, she took it and squeezed it gently. “What’s bothering you, darling?”

         The girl kept her eyes fixed on her plate, not eager at all to meet the concern in her mother's gaze. Marigold Elizabeth Evans was a short schoolteacher with chubby cheeks, long messy blond hair, and big emerald eyes – the same as Lily’s. She was very sweet, very gifted with children, and very good at listening too. But she was also very very expressive.

         The blond woman squeezed her hand again, asking a mute question and Lily shook her head, lips pursed. Everything was fine. Everything was okay. One day she would understand why she was different and that day she would finally stop worrying them. Marigold let go of her hand.

         At the other end of the table, Petunia pointedly cleared her throat. “As I was saying, it's a very interesting kind of b–” No one was listening to her anymore and she stopped talking in a mutter. Lily raised tentatively her eyes, still half hidden by her red hair. Her parents were still gazing at her out of the corner of their eyes. Every muscle in her sister’s face was tense as she directed her attention on the salad in her plate and started to sort the fruits with small, irritated movements.

         “She’s probably just ashamed.” She grumbled under her breath.

         Lily’s heart clenched, her eyes narrowing. Of course she would snitch on her!

         “Stop mumbling, Petunia.” Khalid Evans reprimanded, with his dad's voice. He was quite the opposite of his wife in everything really. From his tan skin and dark hair to his tall height and small brown eyes. He had an incredible self-control, an expressionless face, and lived a moderated and measured life. “If you want to say something, articulate.”

        Lily frowned in her direction as a warning, and Tuney smirked. “She did strange things. Back in the park. She flew off the swing!” She accused. All faces turned back too Lily: her father had his brow furrowed in disapproval and her mother’d her lips pursed in a thin line. This time, Petunia seemed quite pleased about all the attention directed towards her kid sister. The ginger shot her a black look.

         “Lily, is that true?” Marigold asked. Her daughter casted guilty eyes toward her, and there it was! Concern. Worried look. The girl had tried all day to ignore her guts twisted with anxiety in her belly, but those gazes reminded her what she feared.

         Since she came home, whenever she laid eyes on her family, she remembered the fear that twinkled sometimes in Petunia’s gaze, the worried expressions their parents gave her whenever something a bit strange happened in public. And it was there again: that particular expression.

         You are a witch. Maybe it was what they thought of her. Maybe it crossed their mind whenever she was doing something abnormal.

         “Darling, we talk about that”. They did. Many times.

         But… whenever she was doing something like that – magic – there was a little frisson that ran through her body, a buzz in her veins. She somewhat liked that prickle on the edge of her skin. It didn’t feel like sorcery. It didn’t feel like something the villain in her childhood books would use. And it certainly didn’t feel wrong nor evil. It wasn't worth being called like that – a witch! – by a complete stranger nonetheless!

         “Lily, stop hiding behind your hair when your mother is talking to you.” Khalid said, disapproval in his voice. The girl rearranged the lock of hair around her face as she was told while Marigold lectured her.

         “—If we said you can’t do that outside, it’s for a good reason! People could misinterpret, or— I don’t know! Talk about it. But we don’t want that. You don’t want that, do you?”

         Rhetorical question , Lily thought, biting her lips. A question who wasn’t one. She hated that: things that weren’t what they pretended to be.

         “Do you?”

         Especially when an answer was still expected. What idiot would say “Yes, actually, it’s exactly what I want”!

         “No, it’s not, but—” she muttered.

         “There is no but.” Khalid dismissed.

         “But—”

         “No but!”

         “Mum!” Lily protested, her voice high-pitched. She couldn’t even explain herself! How unfair was that! “I didn’t do anything wrong. There was no one but us!”

         “There was that boy.” countered Petunia.

         Lily gave her a death stare.

         “Enough of this argument. Lily, we told you not to do that in public spaces. You have no excuse. Now, if you both have finished your plate, you can start cleaning the table.” Khalid intervened, practical.

         “I. did. nothing. wrong.” She spitted, detaching every syllable. “Besides, I don’t see what someone could misinterpret about a person flying.” She said, trying to be smug despite her heart hammering against her chest. Again. That. Bloody. Heart.

         “Don’t get smart with that, Lily.” Khalid warned.

         Meanwhile Petunia was smiling derisively, articulating silently the word ‘witch’.

         Lily stood up from her chair, pushing brutally her plate which clashed with her glass. “Stop that! I did nothing wrong. I’m not a witch!” She snapped. “Or– or if I am, it doesn’t mean I’m evil! I should be allowed to use… that! – whatever that is – whenever I want, because— because—” And as she snapped, she started crying. Because it was always like that with her! She couldn’t express anything without feeling overwhelmed by her emotions. “I’m not a monster.” She sobbed, fleeing away.

         Petunia watched her running to the door, a guilty crease between her eyebrows.

*

*        *

         Lily hadn’t intended to slam the door on her way out. She hadn’t intended to crack and cry before her parents’ eyes just the same. Things like that happened. But it didn’t mean she felt any less guilty or angry at herself for it. She admonished herself all the way to her bedroom – which was long given the fact that it was a shack perched in a tree. Khalid Evans had built it one summer and the girls had arranged their room there ever since.

         She couldn’t believe Petunia had done this to her! She was still able to see that smug grin her sister gave her just before she let go of the truth, breaking the dam of their parents’ worries at the same time. Didn’t she know how good – how free! – the ginger felt when she was doing those small, harmless things? It felt so right, so natural. She needed that when the rest seemed so out of range, so beyond her understanding. And more than anything, she needed to be able to do magic without worrying her parents.

         Lily wiped away her tears, but they just kept flowing, filled with rage. Infuriated by the mental image of her sister's smirk she hit the wooden ladder, cursing her stupidity when the pain rushed in her hand. Everything was just keeping going wrong. She felt like she had started hurtling down a hill and there was no way to stop falling now.

         When it stopped hurting as much, she started climbing and entered the safe place of her sanctuary. Except it was also Petunia’s bedchamber and soon she joined her in.

         “You didn’t help cleaning the table.” She reproached with a pout. “If that had been me, the parents would’ve called me back.” Lily didn’t pay attention to her, curling anxiously a lock of hair around her finger and pacing back and forth in order to evacuate her anger.

         The blond plopped down, sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes fixed on the moving figure of her sister. Couldn’t she stop! both sisters thought.

         The older one was the first to give in. “Stop wandering around with this worried crease between your brows and those sad little eyes”. As she spoke, Petunia waved an irritated hand in the direction of Lily’s face. The latter glared at her older sister who sighed: “You are not a witch.” Her voice was surprisingly soft, and the ginger obediently stopped pacing on the wooden floor. Instead, she wrapped herself in her sheet and kept brooding. “You. Are. Not. A Witch.” Petunia repeated firmly. “I’m sorry I—”

         “He said it like it was a good thing.” Lily blurted out her sad little eyes raising toward her sister. “I keep thinking about it, and I don’t think he meant it as a bad thing.” While her anger was slowly boiling off, all her deeper concerns were rising to the surface.

         “To have the nose hooked and wart all over the face?” Tuney mocked doubtful. She had a fair point, and Lily couldn’t help but show a tiny smile.

         “No…” She laughed. “Perhaps not. But what if it’s– I don’t know…! What if it’s… not like that? No hooked nose. No warts. No broomstick. And… it could explain it, you know? Maybe it explains why I can do… what I can do. Why I am… special.”

         “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Petunia reproached, her face hardening once more.

         “I don’t want to be different.” Lily moaned sheepishly. With the anger gone she felt tired. Empty. Depressed, even, by all those thoughts.

         “But you do!” Petunia stood up, fuming. “You like it! You like messing around, playing with it! You fly off a swing and you have all our parents’ attention on you!”

         “Tuney…” Lily whined at her sister, but Petunia had already burst out of the cabin. The redheaded girl dropped in her pillows with a sigh. That girl was just a lot. Turning over, she buried her face and grouched between her cushions.

         Only a few moments after Petunia's departure, a new voice came to Lily’s ears. Oh, what now!The little girl was exhausted, and she didn’t feel like enduring another lecture, thank you very much…

         “Lily darling…” Marigold's soothing voice came in at the same time as her blond hair passing through the trapdoor. “Can I come in?” She asked while stepping inside the large room. Clearly, she didn’t need any approval. Lily nodded, nonetheless. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so so so so sorry!” That was a lot of ‘so’. “We didn’t mean to put you in that state. We really didn’t.”

         What state! she thought, irritated. Marigold Evans reached to fondle her little girl shoulder which tensed against the touch. Lily avoided looking at her mother, eyes fixed on her contracted fingers around the soft tissue of her pillowcase. However, two big pleading green irises entered her field of vision as her mother was kneeling beside the bed to stare at her and implore her forgiveness.

         “You’re not a monster, darling. You know we don’t think that of you, do you?”

         Lily was too tired to remember why she had been angry in the first place. Nor had she the energy to blame herself for her outburst any longer. She just felt drained. All those intense emotions had been exhausting her little by little all day long. She offered the most genuine smile she could, and murmured: “It’s okay, mum.”

         “I feel so so bad!” Marigold said, sitting on the bed to take the ginger in her arms and squeezed her hard.

         “Yeah.” Lily reluctantly sat up straight to let her mother hug her correctly. Well. Who was she trying to reassure with her soft gesture then? Herself or her daughter? The latter tried to free herself from her embrace, but Marigold held her even tighter against her.

         Yep, it was definitely Marigold that Marigold was comforting.

         “Mum, I’m tired…” Lily moaned with the most poignant tone she could, in order to appeal mother’s maternal sympathy. She was so tired. With all the sobbing, all the anxiety, all those mixed feelings, she was deeply, utterly, and completely drained. Her mother let go of her and she fell asleep in an instant.

         Marigold watched over her for a moment, then with a sigh, she went back to the ladder and came down. At the bottom, she found Khalid talking to Petunia, a soothing hand on their daughter's shoulder. An adoring smile cracked on the schoolteacher’s round face.

*

*        *

         Lily woke up in the middle of the night. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was only falling asleep too early in the night. She didn’t quite recharge all the energy she had lost. However, she wasn’t tired enough to go back to sleep, it seemed. Sick of turning over and over in her bed, chasing the loving – and absent – arms of sleep, she stepped out of bed and sit by the open windows to get some fresh air.

         There wasn’t any fresh air, though, at this time of the year, but feeling the wind messing with her hair and cooling her skin covered with sweat had something rather comforting. The young girl slipped her leg through the window under the metal bar that was keeping her from falling and dropped her chin on the aforesaid bar, alongside her arms crossed. She stared at the crescent moon in the sky full of stars with an imploring pout. Why couldn’t the man on the moon send her some peaceful dream and watch her sleep like he did with Tuney’s?

         The girl glared at her sister who was wrapped in her duvet and was sleeping like a baby. Tuney disliked not feeling a weight on her when she was sleeping, but how could she find it more comfortable like that in that heat? The freak. A grin was pointing out on the ginger face. Something weird wasn’t about her for once. That was nice.

         She sat there for the rest of the night, watching as the sky swopped its starry dress for a plain blue coat. It was still quite dark, the heaven purple-ish from the sun soon to rise. With a sparkle of mischief glittering in her green iris, the ginger jumped to the floor. After that soothing night of contemplation, she felt a mile away from the state she found herself in falling asleep and she knew exactly what she needed to leave it for good behind her.

         “Why are you waking me up?” Petunia grumbled with tiny eyes and a sleepy voice when her sister shook her shoulder unceremoniously.

         “Because I would never sneak out without you, and I really want to sneak out” came Lily’s joyful response. She had a wide grin on her face and Petunia gave in easily. She always did. She wasn’t a morning cat, so the redhead was always grateful that she let herself be convinced that quickly, as sleepy and as tired as she was.

         “What’s the plan?” she asked with a drowsy voice, extricating herself from under her duvet, her members stiffed.

         “Watch the sunrise!”

         “The sun isn’t even up yet!” Petunia groaned, pulling back her blanket over her face, refusing the prospect.

         “Yep, we couldn’t watch it rise, if it was, could we?” Lily giggled, touched by the scream of protest of her sister as she was realising exactly how early it was. She nonetheless drew ruthlessly the duvet from her sister's face. “Come on, the sky is already purple, we’re gonna miss it!”

*

*        *

         The sisters got dressed in silence. Outside, the first lights of dawn were slowly but surely showing the tip of their nose from behind the hills at the edge of the village. It was barely clear enough to see but the girls were used to it by now. Early getaway was somewhat of a summer routine, mostly at the initiative of the youngest of the both of them.

         Hand in hand, they find their way to the top of the hills fairly easily, without any in-opportune fall in the meantime. But, when they got to their usual spot, other girls were there, sitting on the wild herbs: the Christie’s girls. Lily recognised them immediately from the small blond curls falling around their round faces.

         As soon as she saw them, Petunia waved with a wide grin, and ran to them, leaving her little sister behind to joined them more reluctantly. It was not that she disliked the lot of them – they had big brown eyes with long eyelashes to cover them up with mystery and Lily always liked that in them – but she hadn’t planned their presence in her little getaway with her sister. She wanted it to be a special moment between the two of them. Something that she could remember. Something to make her sister forget that she was an attention seeker monster or a witch or whatever.

         Though she should have considered the possibility of their being on the hills. The blond girls were the daughters of farmers, and they were always up before the sun itself, to help with the beasts and such things. However, it seemed they had managed to get themselves some free time before the tasks began.

         They were four Christy: the oldest, one year older than Petunia: Dalila. The twin, six months younger than Petunia: Elizabeth and Shalon. And the last one, roughly of the same age as Lily: Abby, short for Abigail. Lily liked her quite much, even if, at first, the two got to know each other only because their respective older sisters were friends. So, when Petunia went to talk to the three first, Lily sat down beside the last with a gentle smile as a greeting.

         Abby wasn’t paying much attention to it, focused on braiding blades of grass together. The ginger watched her do, obnubilated by her skilful moves, even if, with the luminosity that low, she couldn’t distinguish much of what exactly she was doing. It was pretty fascinating though, given the fact Abby couldn’t either.

         It was only when it became clear enough to see, that the young girl stopped this intimate spectacle. A bit disappointed by the sudden immobility of her friend’s fingers, Lily rose her nose toward her face to see what could have stopped her hypnotising moves. What she discovered was the beautiful brown eyes of the girl looking up, themselves, toward the sky, endowing her face with a peaceful expression. She had seen a thousand sunrises like that one and yet, it was still able to provide her with the same feeling of wonder. Lily could read it on her smiling lips. And she knew the truth of it.

         The ginger turned her face toward the golden light of the sun, expecting to feel the same, and so did she. She knew the truth of it. They were never the same. There was always a new pattern, a new kind of beauty to every sunrise.

         In her back, the three older girls were giggling. Maybe they didn’t know the secret of enjoying a sunrise like it was the first time? Or maybe, at some point a sunrise ceased to awake wonder into one’s mind? It felt desperately sad. But step by step the silence made itself King within the glade. The girls sat on the grass besides their sisters, and Tuney took Lily’s hand in hers, and they watched together as the heaven were bursting into pink flames.

         It was a pink sunrise. Lily’s favourites.

         The birds started to awake with the sun. Their singing melody replaced leisurely the silence left by the girls. And when the burning star was finally up, the young girls whispers came back to accompany their whistles. This tranquillity was a hard thing to break, but alongside the conversations and the enthusiasm blew in them, the voices became louder and louder, and the birds made themselves more reserved.

         In a spontaneous way, the four older girls started to talk with each other, and as always, Abby and Lily found themselves excluded from the discussion. The redheaded girl, offended, chewed her bottom lip, and turned her back at the four children. Nevertheless, every once in a while, she would give an upset glance at Petunia.

         It was nothing to upset Abbigail, however. The two girls’ conversation was limited to some compliments here and there, but mostly they’re sitting silently, braiding grass, Lily trying to imitate her friend’s moves.

         "Lily..." She started with an absent voice. "Do you remember that one time when Mrs Hamilton's hair became white all of the sudden?"

         Lily showed a tiny mischievous smile at the evocation of that particular memory — which, she thought, was perhaps the point of Abby bringing it up in the first place.

         "Yeah, I remember." The teacher had been particularly mean to that poor boy Leo, and Lily really wanted to make her pay. “Mrs Hamilton’s head had kept changing colour all day long!” Every time she did something the girl didn't approve of, her hair popped up with a different tint, every time more improbable than the preceding. She still had yellow-ish hair. "She deserved it," Lily concluded. "Why?"

         "I don't know. It came to my mind. It made quite the impression."

         Lily grinned. "Yeah!"

         The tingle of her magic crackled, very much pleased with that statement. Maybe she could do something like that now to satisfy it. Petunia would finally pay attention. Her eyes darkened. Oh, yeah, she would! but not in a good way. She would make such a fuss!

         Lily eyed the blonds in her back. Petunia was watching the branches above them, seemingly looking for something. “I’m sure it’s robin.” She was saying.

         She frowned resolutely, took her friend's hand and dragged her away, behind a three. With a secretive look she bent down to pick up some leaves. Closing her hands around them, she looked up toward the questioning face of Abby, but at the same time, a burst of laughter rang out from the bunch of girls behind her. The young girl eyed them, waiting for them to calm down. She needed a bit of concentration for what she was about to do…

         At the periphery of her eyesight, the movement of dark drapes caught Lily’s attention. She turned her head, quickly, watchful eyes widely opened.

         “What is it, Lily?”

         “I—” she directed her attention back toward Abby. “Nothing.” Shooting a last look at the surroundings, she muttered to herself: “I thought I saw something.” But there was nothing to see except for a tree swaying lazily at wind’s discretion. Maybe it had been a bird taking flight? Or even a squirrel…

         "Now look," she said, opening her palms. Inside the leaves had formed a butterfly. It fluttered its wings, but it wasn’t able to fly. It was however enough to bring a glitter of wonder in Abby’s wide eyes.

         The amazement was filling her whole face with life. "How did you do it?" she asked, stars in her eyes. "You can teach me?" The amazement was filling her whole face with life. She reminded Lily of Tuney the first time she had done something like that before her eyes. The ginger grinned, a sad sparkle in her eyes. Why didn't she react like that anymore?

         Lily shook her head negatively to her question. The girl’s face faltered with disappointment. Maybe that was why. But Abby didn’t let that feeling persist much longer on her face and she grasped the ginger wrist with a surprising vigour for the calm girl Lily had always known.

         "Come, you must show Lila!" She said, bringing her back to the glade. "Look what Lily can do! Show them! Show them!"

         Lily brought back a lock of hair behind her ear, shyer all of a sudden. She was crushing the leaves picked up a moment before with her other hand. Petunia seemed dumbstruck and was looking at her with wariness. That was enough to replace the anxiety that was watering her heart with a much different feeling. She would show her.

         Lily brushed away all her concerns and kneeled on the grass besides the Christies who had a glow of interest shining in the depth of their mysterious dark eyes. The suspicion moulted into warning into Petunia cold blue eyes. She shot at her an intense look from her pale pupil. Lily squinted with determination, and they exchanged a challenging glare. It didn’t matter what she thought. She wasn’t going to keep her from doing what she pleased.

         The girl closed her eyes to focus on the leaves’ rustling underneath her fingers. “The parents told you not to do that!” Petunia hissed. “Don’t show everyone what monster you are.” Her voice was so low Lily was the only one to hear it, but the other girls could see something was off. Lily shot her eyes harder, wrinkles creasing at their edge. It didn’t matter what she thought. She wasn’t going to keep her from doing what she pleased.

         She opened her palms and her eyes, letting go of the origami between them. The butterfly took a fly in the air for a magical moment, then it crumpled and scattered in the wind. Lily watched it do, delighted, then she lowered her gaze on the group. Dalila seemed a bit perplexed, and Petunia had her eyes locked on her fingers which she was twisting with a grouchy air, but the other girls were absolutely completely unquestionably amazed.

         “That was beautiful…” Elizabeth whispered.

         “Beautiful?” Shalon protested, enthusiastic. “That was more than that. That was…”

         “Magic!” Abby finished. And the compliments kept shooting. And Lily’s grin kept getting widder and widder. And Petunia kept getting meaner and meaner with her fingers.

         “Can you do it again?”

         That was Dalila. Until then, she had stayed silent and indecisive, but now an intense curiosity was deforming all the traits of her face. Hearing that, Petunia turned vividly her head in her direction, shocked. That was the final straw in the haystack of the young girl’s inner emotions. She brusquely stood up and left with a storm in her step.

         Lily could’ve let her do. Let her have her tantrum in a corner. Maybe she should have. The Christies didn’t seem much bothered by that prospect, as used as she was herself to that kind of behaviour from Petunia. She didn’t like when her sister was mad at her, though. She didn’t like that at all. So, she stood and followed her in the wood.

         “Tuney!”

         She found her weeping beneath a willow, leaning against the trunk of the tree. Its crying branches were snaking in the air around her in a comforting dance, brushing her sometimes like maternal arms do. The tree seemed to protect her from the world around, wrapping her in a safe cocoon of tranquillity. When Lily passed through the branches, one of them lashed her cheek.

         “Tuney…”

         Arms crossed on her back, gaze fixed on her shoes, Petunia was as unmoving as the trunk she was leaning against, frozen in space and time, unaltered by the environment. It almost appeared like she had as much as stopped breathing. It was the case, Lily realised when she finally released the loud sob, she was keeping from leaving her chest at the price of her oxygen.

         Lily, who didn’t dare to approach, stood before her at a good distance. “Tuney…” she repeated. “I’m sorry I—” She found herself interrupted by the look the blond threw at her. Her blue eyes, filled with tears, were so cold that a chill went through Lily’s body despite the suffocating heat of summer.

         “You always say that.” Petunia spitted, angrily. “You’re always sorry. ‘Mum, I’m so sorry!’, ‘Dad, I won’t do it again, I promise.’ And you always do! Again. And again. And again!” With slow steps, she’d started approaching, and with every step she made, Lily’s determination not to move backward in front of this fierce fury weakened.

         “I did nothing wrong.” Lily said, her voice as steady as she could make it be. “The Christies—”

         “Someone who did nothing wrong wouldn’t apologise!” Petunia exploded, filling the space between them with a big, enraged step. Dominating her from the height of every one of her extra-inches, she was crushing her sister under her accusing glare. She was so close that Lily could perceive all the details from her blue iris from the darker touch in one of them to the vicious glint in the depth of both of them.

         Lily raised the nose to Petunia’s face, defiantly.

         “The Christies didn’t think it was wrong.” Lily picked back where she had been stopped as if nothing had happened. Her heart was vibrating with anger in its cage. It was beating furiously, chasing every bit of anxiety, culpability and all those parasitic emotions of her body.

         The mention of the farmer girls distorted Petunia's horsy face with an ugly rage. “Why are you always doing this! Why are you always ruining things for me, you—you freak!”

         “Ruining?” Lily repeated, startled. The weight of injustice blurred with pain and the clarity of her anger for an instant.

         “You stole everything from me!” Then, for another one. “Those are my friends, not yours.” And another after this. “Make your own.”

         And Lily started to realise that the clarity wasn’t coming back, that it was actually tears that were blurring her sight. “I—You’re the one who went to them! I didn’t want too in the first place.” She wailed. “I wanted to be with you. But you always need your pack to worship you and give you the attention you desperately need!”

         Bubble of water formed at the edge of her eyes and dripped on her cheeks and her words became more bitter. “You can’t stand that I’m not in your shadow, that I can shine on my own and that I don’t admire you with wide eyes like Abby does with Lila! Don’t you!” She spitted, infusing in her words as much venom as she could with those tears that kept diluting it!

         “Y—you—” Petunia stammered. “You’re just a freak. Do you hear me? You don’t shine, freak!”

         And that was the moment, when Lily finally decided that she couldn’t have a proper conversation with her sister. Not when she was like that.

         Tears of rage dripped from Lily's eyes as she was fleeing with a stormy pace. She wiped them with her wrist and swallowed back those that came after that. Her vision misty, she didn’t notice the skinny boy in which direction she was walking towards until she was fifteen feet from him.

         An irritated wrinkle creased between the young girl's brows. That awful boy, she thought instantly. He wore the same clothes as the day before, crumpled as if he had slept in them. In the early morning light, the boy’s clothing seemed even more out of place.

         He bent down to pick up a few lime tree’s leaves and, just like the girl a moment before, he sent it flying in her direction like a butterfly. And like a butterfly, the leaves landed in Lily’s open palm, seeming almost suspended in the air. The drafts of a smile outline on the girl’s face. He was like her.

         “I’m sorry.” Snape blurted out. The little girl's smile wilted straight away, replaced by a perplexed look. “I mean… about yesterday. About what I said. I—I didn’t mean it like that! It’s not a bad thing, I swear!”

         Oh! Lily bit her bottom lip, frustrated. She didn’t need that. She really didn’t need a reminder of the horrid word he had used to qualify her. Thanks, but no thanks.

         In the course of his speech, he had approached, carried away by his enthusiasm. However, facing the girl's cold reaction, he became more hesitant, dreading another salve of cutting remarks. “I mean, it’s— My mum’s one! A witch. It’s—”

         “I bet she is.” Lily snorted. All her sister's comments on Eileen Snape's physical appearance came back to her. Hooked nose, crazed looks, wild dark hair and sickly-looking skin. The exact look of a witch.

         But it was an unkind thing to say. The boy thought so too. His apologetic expression crumpled, and his traits hardened, his face inscrutable. An odd kind of hurt pierced through his eyes, though. It wasn’t from the indult, no. It was more like she had just let him and all his hopes down. It was the pain from utter disappointment that she could read within his obsidian iris. That kind of hurt. A kind she wasn’t much familiar with and left her disconcerted.

         “I—” Lily stammered, sheepish. “I’m sorry that was mean. I— I didn’t mean to.”

         The boy shot her a hard look. “Yes, you did.” He said, and it was clear what he insinuated. Back to the wall, she felt an infinite guilt fall on her shoulder and no way to escape it, except maybe…

         “You were spying on us again!” She accused.

         He rolled his eyes, seemingly bored. “Us? What would I ever want to spy on both of you, huh?”

         “I saw you! Behind that tree.” She attacked again, pushing away the doubts that were creeping in. It had to be him, that movement from the edge of the glade, when she was showing off her magical skills to Abby. Not a squirrel. Not a bird. A naughty little boy!

         “I wasn’t spying.” He insisted, the heat rising to his cheeks. “I was there when you showed up!”

         “Showed up? I’m supposed to believe you were already there at this time in the morning! What were you doing, then?” She sniggered derisively. “Sleeping?”

         The boy pursed his lips in a thin line, eyes hard as stone. “You’re not who I thought you were.” He spoke. Then, he walked away without saying another word.

         Lily blinked. She stayed still a moment, dazed, her thoughts made groggy by the argument and the sense that she didn’t understand the whole of it. The sense it was bad. Really bad.

         Crushed by guilt, she raced down the hill to the boy, reaching for his shoulder. “Wait! I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” He shot her an odd look and she swallowed thickly. “Look, we both said things we didn’t mean, right? Let’s have a fresh start.” She looked into the depth of his eyes and decided he didn’t seem too against it given the circumstances. “Hi, I’m Lily.” She offered her hand, and he reached hesitantly to squeeze it. “Please… Please, tell me more!”

         And he did, too existed by the idea of having someone to talk to about magic to care any longer about their argument.