Seraphine
Lily awoke in her bed the day after, sunlight streaming through the curtains in a stream of gold and metallic orange.
“Its not real,” she told herself firmly, “it was all a dream.”
But deep inside, she knew she hadn’t been dreaming when Severus’ mother had conjured the most fascinating animal from the twig in her hand. No, not twig, wand. It had hit Lily as she’d been brushing her teeth the night before, that the twig Lily had assumed so little of, was a vessel of magic and power – and Lily soon would have her own. The penguin had slipped and danced through her dreams, first with snakes and lions, and then with, strangely, a doe. Lily was confused by the presence of a female deer in her dream, but assumed it was something magical again, or something such as a trick of the mind.
There was suddenly a loud rapping noise at her door, announcing her mother’s presence as she swooped through Lily’s door. Her mother looked so unlike Lily it was uncanny, and yet looked so similar to Petunia that it was almost equally as uncanny. Her black hair was curling into a short bob, framing her soft cheeks in a delicate way so different to Severus’ mother, as a pair of deep set eyes surveyed her daughter in bed. Despite her soft appearance, Lily’s mother had always taken a rather cruel approach to motherhood, chastising Lily consistently for what Lily believed to be her lack of individuality. Lily was smart, yes that’s true, but not the smartest, and she was pretty, but not the prettiest; Lily’s mother seemed to be broken by her first daughter’s normality. Due to this, her other daughter, Petunia, had been pushed into hobbies so constricting Lily wondered how she coped – Petunia’s weekends consisted of piano lessons, ballet classes, sewing instructions and a whole lot of cooking. (This juxtaposed Lily’s weekends entirely – a mixture of painting, reading, exploring, swimming, and persuading Severus to wreak havoc to the local dock workers.)
“Lily, as you know, Hogwarts has an equipment list, and I’ve found out we must visit London in order to get everything!” her mother exclaimed, almost in disbelief that cauldrons and wands weren’t available in their seaside village.
“Oh ma! London! When?” Lily had never left the Southwest of England and could barely contain her excitement when she realised that she would be able to visit England’s capital city. She knew it was grand, oh so grand, and knew it was supposed to be the freest place on earth – she often heard the evening news moan about the “liberals” taking over London city.
“Lily, don’t get overexcited, but there is a train up today, it takes about three hours. We will stay overnight in an inn or a pub, there’s got to be one nearby, and then come back tomorrow early morning. Eileen, she said we need to visit ‘Diagon Alley’, whatever that is, Lord, I don’t know…”
Lily squealed with delight as she leapt up to hug her mother, a big warm hug cradled by ideas of London. Her mother hesitated slightly, but relaxed, and as they pulled away, she knew her mother was equally excited. It was just then she noticed the small, rather unhappy, face peer around the corner.
“Petunia! I’m going to London!” called Lily, desperate to share her news. Their dad had been at the docks since the crack of dawn and would stay there until night claimed the sky as its own, so Petunia was the only other person in the house. She smiled slightly, but in her eyes Lily could see a dance of sadness and jealousy.
“Ma, can I come?” Petunia asked.
“My sweet, I don’t think so. Your time will come, but for now Lily needs all sorts – darling, I know you wouldn’t want to go toad shopping!” Petunia scowled as their mother told her she’d be babysat by Mrs Crumple from down the road – an old lady who almost permanently smelt of cabbage.
Lily didn’t want a toad – surely her mum was joking. Yes, she couldn’t take Paul but surely some sort of kitten would work? Or even an owl, but no way would she feed it mice or rats. Rats were almost as bad as snakes in Lily’s book.
Time flew past, as did the train journey to London, with Lily staring at the rolling fields sprinting past. As they grew closer to the city, Lily couldn’t help but gasp at the sprawl of impossibly tall buildings, an urban area epitomized by such industrial buildings. Graffiti tattooed the trains they passed by, cruel images her ma scoffed under her breath towards. They had to travel by Tube to access this unique “magical street”, as her ma called it, and Lily felt a sheer thrill as the trains screeched though tunnels at terrifying speeds. London was even better than
she could imagine.
The streets brimmed with people from all walks of life, languages Lily didn’t recognise followed her as she mused at several different outfits. One woman, with an afro piled upon her head entwined with, yes that’s right, lily flowers, wore a skirt so graceful and long Lily was desperate to feel her fingers across it, to trace the patterns of pearls and embroidered silks. Her mother and Lily walked for what felt like hours until they reached a pub crammed into a corner. The sign was almost unreadable as it swung over the bustling cobbled street, and the windows were thick with grime. Her mother’s face displayed an immense sense of disgust as she pushed the creaking door open, a heavy contraption made of thick oak wood.
“This is where it is,” she said, “well, this is where it should be.”
How can a whole street be hidden behind a door? A door which almost screamed in agony as they wrenched it open, and yet nobody around them turned their heads? In fact, nobody had looked at Lily and their mother at all. Maybe that was all part of it. The magic.
Lily couldn’t have imagined what would lay before her through the door. Her neck prickled with anticipation as the most beautiful street unfolded in front of the mother and daughter pair.
Shops of the most unusual colours lay on top of one another, climbing onto the blue sky – Lily could’ve sworn it was grey a second ago. Old-fashioned windows featured displays of the most unbelievable objects: brooms with tails so sleek they surely couldn’t be used for cleaning, jars of colours so magnificent they must have been a trick of the eye, confectionery piled high, glistening with sugar and sweetness, clothes so comical they deserved a giggle and owls, all sorts of owls, tawny and snowy, little and big. The smell of candied apples hung in the air as children’s laughter filled Lily’s ears, her hands trembled as she realised the impossibility of this situation. Small, bug-like creatures flew across the sky in almost arrow-like patterns, pointing to various shops and their sales. It was all so beautiful, all so perfect, it was almost impossible that she could’ve been there.
Her eyes caught on a boy, who she assumed was her age, being fussed over by two parents, both with warm laughs. He had thick curly hair that flopped purposelessly over his eyes, and round glasses pushed onto his nose in an almost comical style, framing two big brown irises. He caught her eye and gave her the most infectious smile, and she felt a blush crawl up her cheeks in an embarrassing fashion. She hadn’t spoken to any other magical children except Severus, and he seemed rather charming. Their gaze broke as he greeted another young boy, with pale skin and long, dark black hair. He wore a leather jacket so unusual Lily felt a pang of jealousy looking at her own beige cardigan. His posh accent was audible from where Lily was stood, and he was followed by a woman who looked so cruel, so unfriendly, that she cringed away. Her mother seemed to have the same reaction and pulled Lily into the shop closest to them: Ollivander’s Wand Shop.
An old man peered at the pair through his half-moon spectacles, eyes a silver glow in the darkness of the wand shop. A small grin cracked across his wrinkled cheeks as he looked at Lily; she felt rather unnerved as she stepped towards him, each foot creaking on floorboards below them.
“My name is Mr Ollivander, seller of the finest wands since 382 BC,” he spoke, in a surprisingly warm voice. Lily couldn’t help but snort as she thought of the old man having lived for thousands of years, selling wands to Vikings and Victorians alike. He didn’t seem to share her amusement, and simply beckoned her further forwards to the desk. The whole shop felt thick with dust and old age and seemed to sigh whenever Lily moved. Her mother stood back cautiously, admiring the unusual collection of thousands of long boxes jammed against all wall space available.
“So, Lily, muggleborn… Intelligent, lots of promise, big things.”
Lily didn’t ask how this strange man knew her name, or that both of her parents were non-magical, and yet there was a foreign force almost compelling her not to ask any questions. Ollivander’s face dropped suddenly, and it was almost as if a cold shiver ran through his spine as he peered over his spectacles in her direction. Lily felt completely unnerved, but as fast as his displeasure arrived, it left equally as quickly.
“Lily, you are made for incredible things, oh yes…” he mumbled, pulling an assortment of boxes from from the dusty shelves.
“Here, try this. No, not sycamore, too common, but something unique like poplar yes…”
Lily picked up the box Ollivander laid out before her and slid the dust-laden lid off. Inside lay a wand so thin it looked snappable, carved with runes that reminded Lily faintly of Egyptian hieroglyphs she’d learnt about in primary school lessons. She picked it up, but immediately felt something like a somewhat dead weight push down on her fingers.
“Give it a swish,” Ollivander commanded.
Lily obeyed, and yet the result left her permanently embarrassed. A huge bolt of red anger thrust from the wand, an unfamiliar stream of power that blasted at least ten boxes from off their shelves. She attempted to mumble some sort off an apology, But Ollivander just chucked softly before hastily taking the wand from her hand. He handed her another box, and inside this held a wand of a short, stocky build.
“Trusty, reliable, unicorn hair, give it a go,” he chortled.
This time, Lily felt even more embarrassed. Despite vigorously shaking the wand, not a single thing happened – this was almost worse, as it confirmed Lily’s fears that she wasn’t magical, and this was some sort of joke.
Ollivander seemed to sense this, and rushed the wand from out of her hands, replacing it with a new one, already un-boxed. It was about ten inches long, made of an auburn wood and instantaneously felt light in her hands. In fact, it felt better than light, almost empowering. Lily swished it, and to her upmost surprise, something similar to flower petals shot out of the end in an excitable burst, gliding down towards the dust-laden floor in swooping motions.
“Marvellous,” the strange man sung, “ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow! Spectacular choosing Lily!”
Lily blushed brightly as she felt the wand settle into her grip, warm and soft in her hands, its raised flower pattern familiar with the cuts and creases of her young hands.
“You know, a lovely wand for charm work, and possibly even potions…” he trailed off, shuffling backwards to replace the box, now empty of its wand.
“Well, it’s the wand that chooses the wizard and Lily, you truly are destined for marvellous things, and so is this wand, but I must ask for ten galleons if you please,” as he gestured towards Lily’s mother. She pulled a foreign currency from her purse that Lily didn’t recognise, and made a mental note to ask questions about where she had discovered it later.
She turned for a minute to glance around the shop one more time. She imagined you wouldn’t frequently need new wands, and therefore probably may never visit this unique old shop ever again. It was hard to believe so many witches and wizards had been in this position before her, and had all received their wands from the same place. Lily was hit by the magnitude of what lay ahead of her in that moment, and struggled to come to terms with the future that lay ahead of her. In their seaside town, she’d assumed she would go to secondary school, pass with mediocre grades and begin to work on the docks. Later in life, she’d be a faithful wife to whomever her parents approved of, and would have a couple children to who she then dedicated her life to then raising. This future was laid out before her, and yet that letter from Hogwarts had blasted that future to smithereens, and left her lying in the fog, no idea in which way to turn.
This chain of thoughts was interrupted as a young girl, likely Lily’s age, burst through the door, a cloak trailing behind her along with multiple bags, and to her upmost surprise, an owl cage.
“This is Perica, don’t you think she’s pretty!” the girl laughed, thrusting the cage into Lily’s unready hands. The owl inside was small, small enough it would fit in a mug, and had huge amber eyes that glowed ferociously in Lily’s direction. Its small dark wings raised defensively towards Lily as she haphazardly grinned at the other girl, unsure of what to do. The girl dumped her bags on the floor of Ollivander’s, seemingly unaware of the shop’s purpose. She paused to take a breath of air, then pulled Perica away from Lily, apologizing for its incredibly defensive stance. Their eyes connected for a second, and Lily was greeted with a flash of bright green, a forest at first glance.
“I’m sorry, my name, I’m Seraphine. Seraphine Clearwater,” she grinned, grabbing Lily’s hand into a shake. Lily looked around for her mother, but it seemed she had already left the shop.
“I’m Lily, Lily Evans!” Lily was thankful to meet someone new, someone other than Severus before joining Hogwarts. She took a closer look at the girl, admiring her different features. She was taller and slimmer than Lily, with sharp elbows jutting out at each of her sides. Her hair was a mousy shade of brown, thinning as its curls reached her shoulders, and her nose was crooked at the side, almost like it had been broken in the past, while a small birthmark lay above her right eye. She was beautiful, and Lily felt a twang of an unfamiliar sensation as Seraphine smiled at her.
“You’ve got a weird accent, where are you from?” she grinned.
Lily had never noticed her own accent before, but she had never left Southwest England before, so it was rather self- explanatory.
“Devon, down by the sea, and you? You’ve also got a pretty funny accent if you don’t mind me saying…”
“Northern Ireland. Just outside of Dublin, took me a boat trip and a blooming long train journey to get here. I met a girl earlier, Madam Malkins’, with the thickest Liverpudlian accent you’ve ever heard, her name was Marlene I think, really made me laugh. My ma is busy in Gringotts, speaking to ugly old Walburga Black, nasty woman she is… Have you met her?”
Lily immediately flushed bright red. She had no idea who this Black woman was, never mind what a ‘Gringotts’ was. At least, she knew where Liverpool and Dublin were. She suddenly regretted talking to this girl, and scolded herself for not remembering how far out of her depth she truly was.
“Erm… no, don’t think so.”
Seraphine looked at her with an expression similar to intrigue before Lily quickly changed the subject.
“You about to get a wand then?”
“Yes, I think so. I think I’d like dragon heartstring, since they stopped doing the Demiguise hair with all the invisible wand scandals…” Seraphine wondered, musing different options Lily had never heard of.
“Well, I actually have two erm- non-magical parents, so I don’t know what a Demiguise is,” Lily grinned, hoping to make an acceptable first impression.
Seraphine smiled, but Lily saw a slight shimmer of shock cross her face. Lily hadn’t pondered this before, but was there prejudice to those not with magical parents? Surely not, as magic was such a beautiful gift it should be shared, shouldn’t it? She felt a bubble of anxiety pop in her stomach but felt the sensation calm as Seraphine brought her into a tight, unsuspected hug.
“That’s cool. I think that’s, you know, really cool,” she grinned. “Look Lils, my ma will slaughter me if I spend any longer grabbing myself a wand, so, I’ll catch you later, yeah?”
Lily agreed as she walked through the door of the shop, risking one glance back at the girl approaching Ollivander’s worn desk. She had been so personable, that Lily felt she must talk to her again, most likely it would have to be in Hogwarts now. Lily had felt so excited when she’d nicknamed her ‘Lils’ that even for a split second she imagined herself spending her time at Hogwarts with this new girl, learning spells and training Perica the owl. She knew she was getting carried away, but the thought of this future felt so enticing, so different, that she couldn’t help it.
Feeling like she was walking on clouds as the sun poured between the shop roofs onto Diagon Alley, Lily, with the wand in one hand, grabbed her mother’s with the other, and began to wander up the cobbled street.