Three Wishes for Lily

Once upon a time, in a land far away, the royal family’s visit had the entire Evans estate in an uproar.

Things were usually very quiet in this part of the kingdom, especially at an estate this…well, humble. It hadn’t always been this way, but ever since the late Lord Evans passed away, his wealth seemed to dwindle with each passing year. Estates this big needed a lot of money to upkeep, and someone to wisely manage it. With neither of those things, the Evanses were now far from rich, but just enough so to not be completely irrelevant. And today they were even less irrelevant than usual.

You see, every year, the king and queen, as well as their son and parts of their court passed through on their way to their winter residence and this year the Evanses even had the special honour of hosting them for an entire afternoon.

Servants and peasants from the surrounding lands were already positively buzzing with excitement, as the fancy folk were always a sight to behold and would surely provide them with much to talk about for the next few weeks, at least. Especially the prince, who was still unmarried and rumoured to have grown even handsomer since last year, was a much anticipated guest by most of the young people.

No one was more exited about this honour than the lady of the estate, herself, though. Self-important and forever focused on climbing the social ranks as she was, she had devised a plan to gather the king and queen’s favour and achieve an advantageous match for her daughter before the year was over. Seeing as her own marriage and her second husband’s untimely (and completely accidental!) death a few years ago had secured her this quite large, if a little bothersome estate, she fancied herself somewhat of a mastermind, in matchmaking as well as most other matters. Her social ambition meant that, for days now, the entire staff had been working themselves to the bone, cooking about a hundred different foods, cleaning, decorating and making everything presentable. And, as the lady tended to let everyone know quite loudly and immediately if she wasn’t satisfied, it meant that she was even less pleasant to be around today than under normal circumstances. And pity the servant who made a mistake.

Her current victim was Peter, the kitchen boy. Notoriously clumsy, he’d stumbled and dropped a rather large ceramic bowl, the sound of which could be heard through the kitchen and over the entire courtyard. It had summoned Lady Evans to the kitchen, as well as her daughter, Petunia, who watched the scene with amusement.

“Who dropped this, boy? Was it you?” The lady was an intimidating woman, made to seem even larger with her thick fur coat and the big white hat on her head. Poor Peter sat on the floor, next to the broken bowl, terrified, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. A servant girl rushed to his side and helped him pick up the pieces.

“It’s really no problem, my lady, it was the old bowl, anyway”, Minerva, the cook, assured her, while Peter tried to clean up the mess with shaky hands.

Lady Evans scoffed. “I’ll decide if it’s a problem or not. Now, let me ask you again, who did this?”

Before Peter could answer, the red-headed servant girl cut in. “It was me, mother. I apologise.”

The lady scowled. “Of course. Cinderella.” She wordlessly gestured for the girl to clean up, then she turned to the cook, who was watching everything with a stern look on her face.

“Minerva, is everything ready for today?” She looked around the kitchen, eying the dishes. “The roasts, the pastries, the wine?”

“Yes, my Lady, no need to worry. Everything is prepared.”

Petunia walked around the table, the white fabric pinned to the back of her head trailing after her. “Make sure you don’t mess anything up for us, Minerva. This is the royal family we’re hosting, after all.” The lady chuckled and caressed her daughter’s cheek lovingly, before setting her sights on Cinderella, the servant girl, again, who had started cleaning the oven.

Cinderella’s actual name was Lily. Not that the lady or Petunia ever used it, though. Born out of a mean joke by her stepsister, the nickname had quickly become one of their favourite method of torment, reducing her to the lowly maid she was. Even the rest of the staff was ordered to call her that. The only ones brave enough to disobey these direct orders were Minerva and Hagrid, and even they did it only in the lady’s absence.

Lily had had a rough few years, in general. Ever since her father, the late Lord Evans, had passed away, the quiet dislike her stepmother long since held for her had morphed into open disdain. And while Petunia and her had been quite close as children, her sister had quickly adopted her mother’s treatment as soon as she realised how the power dynamics within the family had shifted. While Petunia continued to get coddled and had her every wish catered to by the lady, Lily had almost everything ripped away from her and was forced to work as a maid. All she had left now was her horse, Nicholas, a few of her mother’s things she’d managed to hide, and a huge attitude.

The latter got her into regular trouble with her stepmother. But then again, she supposed her mere existence got her into trouble, anyway, so she might as well do everything in her power to bother the woman. And unlike Peter, who was fairly new at the estate and whose position there was unstable at best, the lady couldn’t very well throw her out onto the street completely without losing face in front of everyone, so Lily often took the brunt of the punishment for him. Besides, he always made it up to her by sneaking her extra pastries.

Lady Evans made her way over to Lily and tutted. “You useless girl. I truly don’t know if you’re really that clumsy, or if you’re just doing it out of petulance.” Disgusted, she eyed the ash on the girl’s face. “Heavens. What fine inheritance your father has left me.”

“Leave father out of it”, Lily snapped. “He gave you the entire estate.”

“Mind your tone, girl”, the lady gasped. “Have you no respect? Why, I ought to teach you some. The days are over, when your father used to take you out into the woods and teach you all those things. Hunting, riding…as though you were a boy! That’s over, you hear me? Don’t you dare show your face before the king today. And you’re not allowed to go see the horse, either!”

Lily had half a mind to point out that riding out in the woods wasn’t a particularly manly hobby, by any means, if such a thing even existed. What was it with gendering certain activities, anyway? All sorts of people could like all sorts of things. But she bit her tongue, as she supposed this wouldn’t really help the situation when her stepmother was already fuming.

And, true enough, Lady Evans had reached the pacing stage of her anger. She grabbed a bowl of dried peas and poured them into the bucket of ash and dirt next to the oven. “Until this evening, you’ll have picked the peas from out of here”, she said, mixing everything. “And then you’ll come and ask for my forgiveness. Mark my words, girl, one day I’ll drive that pride and defiance out of your head!”

“But mother”, Petunia said sweetly, guiding her mother, who was still breathing heavily, out of the kitchen, “don’t waste your anger on dirty Cinderella.” Before leaving, she threw a smug look over her shoulder. Lily supposed Petunia thought she was helping her with this. If Petunia was capable of thinking about anyone but herself, that is.

As soon as the kitchen door fell closed behind them, Peter ran to her side, his enormous floppy kitchen hat nervously clutched in his hands. “Oh Cinderella, thank you so much. I really thought I was done for. If you want to, I’ll help you with that!” He gestured to the giant bucket Lily was sullenly balancing on her hip now.

“Oh, and I’m left alone in the kitchen?”, Minerva complained. She was a tall, fierce person, as tightly wound as the grey hair at the back of her head, but really much less terrifying than she seemed at first. Most people knew her to be competent, strict but always fair. Besides, she had a soft spot for young people, especially for Lily and Peter, who she’d taken under her wing almost immediately when he arrived at the estate last spring.

“Chin up, Miss Evans”, she said while chopping some onions. (No matter how many times Lily had cleaned the kitchen floor by now, Minerva still insisted on addressing her properly and formally, as she had when Lily had been little. Lily had repeatedly pointed out that there was no need for such formality and that considering her current circumstances she was hardly a noble lady, but the cook stayed stubborn.) “It’s only the stepmother, after all, not your real one.”

Lily sniffed. “Father had always loved us equally when he was alive, Petunia and I.” Minerva set down the knife for a second, giving her a pitying look, while Peter shyly squeezed her shoulder, as if to say I’m really sorry things are this way, but there’s nothing I can do to help.

Sighing, she carried the bucket up the stairs to a small and quiet drawing room, emptying its contents onto the floor.

Well, shit. There go my afternoon plans, she thought, looking down onto the mess. These kind of jobs were nothing new to her, by now. Her stepmother loved giving her useless tasks, the more tedious and time-consuming the better. And picking out tiny peas from a bucket of dirt and ash, separating everything neatly, was definitely tedious work.

Better get to it, then.

Grabbing two woven plates, she crouched down onto the floor and started working, internally cursing the lady and her wretched daughter and generally feeling quite sorry for herself. Lily was by no means a whiny person, but truly, no one could deny how rotten her luck had been as of late. If only I could get a little bit of help with this, she thought.

Just as she had finished thinking this, there was a tap by the window. And another.

Confused, she looked up to find…doves (?) sitting there, looking at her.

A lot of doves.

She blinked.

The doves blinked back.

“Why, hello. What might you be doing there?”

Another tap, this time a little louder.

“Do you…want me to let you in?”

One of the doves moved their head, almost as if nodding.

Thinking about it for a second, but finding nothing particularly strange about talking to these doves, Lily shrugged. “Alright then”, she said, got up and opened the window.

The doves flew in, some of them landing on her to peck her ears in greeting, some of them directly moving to where she’d poured the peas and ash. “Oh, I see!”, Lily laughed. She gently took one of the birds and began stroking its feathers. “You’re here to help! How kind of you. Well, it would greatly help me out of you’d put the peas on one plate and the ash on the other. Do you think you can do that?”

The dove pecked her finger, which Lily supposed what a yes, because it soon fluttered over to the rest of the flock, which had started following her instructions. Marvelling at the intelligent animals, Lily grinned and grabbed a fuzzy little vest to put over her dress and apron. It seemed she had time to go to the woods, after all.

“Thank you so much, my dear friends! You’ve saved my day. I’ll be back before you know it.” With that, she closed the door and quickly made her way to the stables.

While technically, Lily was forbidden to go see her horse, she figured with the king arriving shortly the lady would hardly have time to check up on this. Besides, Hagrid would never tell on her. So she decided to seize the opportunity and go for a ride.

The stable master was, unsurprisingly, tending to the horses when she entered.

“Sneaking off, are we, Lils?”, he asked without turning around.

She laughed, running to his side where he was stroking a gorgeous white horse. “How’d you know it was me?”

Hagrid smiled. “Wasn’t me, it was Nicholas”, he said, lovingly patting the horse on its back. “He can sense you from a mile.” Nicholas whinnied in response.

“So you’re not watching the royals today? Aren’t you curious about the prince?”

“They won’t let me”, Lily shrugged, stroking the horse’s neck. “And I’ve already seen him last year when they came through. Besides, Nick is my favourite, anyway. Isn’t that right, boy?” Nicholas agreed with a loud snort, shaking his white mane, obviously quite proud to be her favourite. He was an incredible horse and great friend, Lily had found. And remarkably intelligent. When she talked to him, it seemed like he always understood what she was saying. To be fair, in her experience most animals were actually clever enough to understand what’s being talked about, if it was being said in the right way. It’s just that most people didn’t know or didn’t care enough to learn how to properly speak to animals.

Her father had known how to do it, though. Lord Evans had been an exceptionally intelligent and kind soul, well-loved by humans and animals alike, and he’d always encouraged his daughter to be the same. “Treat others with love and respect”, he’d say to her, “and you’ll never be alone in your life.” How terribly she missed him, Lily thought with a sharp pang of longing as she bid Hagrid goodbye and led Nick out of the stable. And how right he’d been. Because while her living situation may be less than ideal, she was truly fortunate to be surrounded by such dear and loyal friends. And wasn’t that the important thing, when it came down to it? It seemed rather silly to feel sorry for herself now, when she could instead be grateful for everything that had been given to her.

- Well. Not grateful for everything. Her dear father may have been right in many aspects, but he’d certainly made some seriously questionable marriage choices. Not everyone could be perfect, she supposed.

With a little swing in her step, she guided Nick through the trampled-down snow to pay a visit to another one of her friends before she left.

A little off to the side of the main house, there was a stable-like hut. Much too cold and small to actually sleep in during winters like these, only the bottom floor was occasionally used by Hagrid to store some firewood. Which made it a perfect hiding place for Lily and her most prized possessions. Leaving Nicholas to wait for her outside, she climbed the narrow ladder to the little attic. There wasn’t much space inside, just enough to hold a small dresser and a little wooden bench. And, of course, Hedwig.

Hedwig was a beautiful snow owl. Lily didn’t know how old she was, exactly, just that she’d been her loyal companion for almost as long as Nicholas. Hedwig liked to keep inside, safe from the icy winter breeze, and always seemed happy to see her when she stopped by for a quick chat. Today was no exception: upon entering, Lily was greeted with a cheery hoot.

“Hi love”, she said, pulling a few treats from her pocket and gently petting the owl. “Are you guarding my treasures well?”

Of course, Hedwig answered (through ruffling of her feathers).

She smiled and opened the top drawer of the dresser. Inside, there was a jewellery box, quite well loved and old, but still beautiful. The wood was intricately carved, darned with precious stones and spoke of much better days. A long time ago, it had belonged to Lily’s mother and contained many expensive pieces of jewellery. Today it held little more than an old compact mirror, a small hairbrush, some pins and the only brooch her stepmother hadn’t managed to get her grubby hands on.

Lily took the brooch and absentmindedly stroked the flowers on it. When she was little, she used to spend hours just looking at it and memorising its details. Then she’d ask Lord Evans to tell her about her mother again.

“It was summer”, he’d always start, sitting down on his armchair and taking her onto his lap. “I met her in the gardens, at my great-aunt’s ball. The first thing I noticed about her was her hair. It was the most beautiful shade of red.”

“Red like mine?”

“Yes, love, just like yours. She wore a green dress, adorned with little gold leaves and flowers and I remember thinking that I’d never seen such a lovely sight before. She was standing there, admiring the lilies, and I knew instantly.”

“You knew what?”

“Well, that she would be someone very special to me. You see, my darling, sometimes we get this feeling about people, even if we have never met them before. I looked her and I just - knew.”

“When you know, you know”, she whispered and he smiled. “Yes, when you know, you know.”

“And that’s when you asked her to marry you?”

He laughed. “No, not quite. I asked her to dance, first, I think. We danced and laughed the entire night, and when I went home that evening I told my mother that I would need her engagement ring because I’d just met my future wife.”

“I gave her this”, he said, gently taking the brooch out of her little hands, “as a wedding gift, because she’d told me that first night we met that lilies were her favourite flowers. But years later, when she was pregnant with you, she confessed something to me.”

“What was it?”

“That she had never particularly cared for lilies before she met me. That evening, in the gardens, she had actually seen me first. But she’d been too shy to strike up a conversation, so when I turned around, she’d pretended to look at the flowers. And when I came and asked her about it, she panicked and just said the first thing on her mind.”

Lily gasped. “So she never liked the flowers?”

“That’s what I wondered, too. I asked her, ‘But I’ve been getting them for you for years! How come you never said anything?’ Do you want to know what she said?” Lily nodded eagerly.

“She said that she loved them now. Because every time she smelled them, she remembered how happy she was that night, and how happy she’d been every day since. Because when she looked at them now, she saw beauty, love, and laughter. That’s why they were her favourite, now. And that’s why, when you finally came into this world, we named you after those flowers.” He stroked her hair. “Though she’s no longer with us, i still see her in the sunlight, in the trees, in the lilies we planted outside. And most of all, I see her in you.”

Lily blinked back the tears that had started to gather in her eyes, before taking a deep breath and putting the brooch back. She then took the mirror and looked at herself for a second. Her mother had died when she was all but six years old, so she didn’t remember what exactly she’d looked like. She wished the current Lady Evans hadn’t removed all of her paintings from the house, so that she might gaze upon her face from time to time. Did she have her nose, her chin? Were those her mother’s eyes, staring back at her from the mirror?

Studying her reflection, Lily realised that her face really was dirty, just as her stepmother had said. Ever since cleaning the ovens had become part of her duties, it seemed like there was a permanent layer of ash over her body and clothes at all times. The dust had even gotten on her hair, dulling the colour and making it look like even more of a mess than it already was. She’d gotten the colour from her mother, that was certain. A (usually) vibrant red, gleaming in the sun, forming a stark contrast to her green eyes and freckles. Lily herself loved it, but Lady Evans always said her hair was ugly. That red was a wild colour, without an ounce of sophistication, and evidence that her mother had been a savage and dirty peasant. Petunia made fun of her for it, saying that hair like that was fitting for a freak like her.

Lily supposed that was somewhat true. She was a little bit of a freak, what with her talking to animals and such. And she never knew when to shut up. But in her opinion, Petunia and Lady Evans were boring tarts, so being different from them may not be the worst thing.

Sighing, Lily took a (somewhat) clean handkerchief out of her apron pocket and started scrubbing the worst of the dirt from her face, before grabbing a brush and trying to tame the bird’s nest on her head. When that didn’t quite work out she resorted to just pinning some of it back. From outside, she heard a loud whinny. Nicholas was obviously getting impatient.

“Yes yes, I’m coming!” Lily quickly shut her box and grabbed Nick’s saddle. Then she hurried down the ladder, waving goodbye to Hedwig. Off to the woods, then.

***

While Lily and Nicholas snuck off, the royal procession had finally started to arrive at the Evans’ estate. First came a group of banner- and footmen, then the king and queen’s carriage, followed by the rest of their court. The prince, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Preceptor”, King Fleamont said, addressing a small, plump man riding through the gates on an equally small and plump horse next to their carriage. His name was Slughorn and he was the royal teacher and assistant, which meant that had the often very ungrateful task of preparing the prince for his royal duties.

That, and making sure he arrived on time to said duties.

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Where are the prince and his companions?”

“Why it’s quite baffling to me, your Highness. I was just lecturing them on noble behaviour and when I turned around, they had disappeared.”

The king let out a sigh. “Find them immediately, bring them back here and reprimand them sharply. No, wait, I’ll do the latter myself.”

“Of course, your majesty.” The preceptor bowed his head and trotted his horse out of the procession into the surrounding woods, looking a little queasy. (He was not an outdoorsy person, especially during winter, and had actually quite looked forward to dinner.)

“Oh darling”, the queen mused. “Take some pity on the poor man.”

Her husband cringed. “Heavens, I’ve just sent him off to freeze, haven’t I?”

“I doubt he’ll be able to bring them back before our visit is over.”

“Yes, James has a talent of conveniently getting out of appointments. Well, if Slughorn does manage to find him in time I’ll make sure to reward him for it.” The carriage slowed to a halt in
front of the gathered crowd and they both made sure to put on their best smiles.

Duty called, after all.

***

It was a glorious day, in James’ opinion. The sun was shining, the winter air was crisp, there was fresh snow on the ground and he was in company of his two favourite people in the world. What could be better?

Grinning, he brought his horse to a halt and turned to the two men accompanying him, gesturing to the view. “Well gentlemen, what do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect, your highness”, Sirius answered, also grinning, jumping of of his horse and tying it to a tree. Sir Sirius Black was infamous for his charm, his looks and the fact that his family, the second most powerful in the kingdom, had practically disowned him for reasons unknown to the public. What was publicly known, however, is that he was a knight and had grown up at the royal court alongside the prince, who considered him a brother. Rumours had it the king and queen had even formally adopted him, though this was never confirmed by anyone.

Right now, he gave his horse a comforting pat on the neck and shook out his hair, placing his hat on top of it.

“I still think we should get back”, the third man said with a long-suffering sigh, which made Sir Black snort. Sir Remus Lupin had arrived at court a few years after Sirius had, and had seamlessly fit into their group, proving to be less of a calming influence on the prince and his brother than most people had hoped. While the scars on his face and body made most people weary of him, everyone who spoke more than three words with Sir Lupin found him to be quite the opposite of dangerous.

“Do I have to remind you that this was your idea, Moony?”

“Well, that doesn’t mean l like that we’re actually doing it.” Despite his words, Remus got down from his horse.

James laughed and joined Sirius in the snow, shouldering his crossbow. “I like it. Definitely better than dinner with stuffy nobles.”

“Or stuffy nobles who keep trying to marry their kids off to you.” Sirius shuddered. “What horror.”

“Yes, we all know what you think about marriage, Padfoot”, Remus remarked a little bitterly, but Sirius payed that no mind, as usual.

“I’m not against marriage, per se”, Sirius explained, “I just don’t see the point in it for me personally.”

James chuckled. “The point is a public commitment to someone you love.”

“Yeah, but who needs that? Can’t we just have fun without all that other stuff attached to it?”

“You certainly seem to be able to have plenty of fun”, commented Remus under his breath while tying up their horses.

Sirius huffed and turned around. “Are you calling me a slag?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I said.”

“I like to have fun, yeah. So what? I seem to remember you and Gideon having some fun of your own back in October.”

“Yes and you bring it up every chance you get. Why’s that?”

“Because it’s Gideon, Remus! He’s so strange. He wants to become a bard.”

“He’s just pursuing his passion!”

“The man can’t hold a tune to save his life! Certainly you can do better than that. I can’t believe you were honestly thinking about marrying him.”

James sighed. This had been going on for a while now. In his opinion, anyone with eyes (even someone as oblivious to these things as him) could see that his friends were hopelessly in love with each other, but the two proved to be quite stubborn about it. While Remus was miserably aware of his own feelings and believed his crush to be one-sided, Sirius seemed completely ignorant of any of it. James had a bet going on with Marlene when those two would finally come to their senses. While they both agreed Remus would be the first one to crack, they were divided on when this would be: Marlene was certain it would take another five years, the prince said it would happen before New Year’s Eve. Really, it was any day now.

Today was not the day though.

“Well, I’m thinking about my future, Sirius. What about yours? Are you planning on staying a bachelor your entire life?”

Sirius shrugged. “I’ve just never really seen myself marrying anyone. I mean, who would I even marry? So far, I haven’t met anyone I like better than you two.”

“Aww Padfoot”, James cooed, deciding to intervene, throwing an arm around his friend and mussing up his hair. “We love you, too!”

He shrieked. “Not the hair, James, you oaf!” Fuming, he pushed him off and grabbed the blue hat that had fallen down into the snow.

Remus chuckled. “James, have some mercy. We all know how much time poor Padfoot spends every morning getting it just right.”

“I resent that implication. I wake up looking exactly like this, thank you very much.”

“Sure you do.”

While the two of them bickered, James took a look around the wintery landscape, admiring the view. A truly perfect day for a hunt. Especially with those trails leading through the snow over there, behind a small group of trees.

Hunting was probably one of the only royal traditions the prince actually enjoyed doing. Ever since he had been little, his father had taken him into the woods to ride and shoot. So really, he was just continuing tradition today, and no one could blame him for that.

Well, his father could blame him for going hunting when he had other, arguably more important things to do, but that was of no great importance. With all the stupid things James and his friends had gotten up to during the years, his royal parents were hardly ever shocked anymore. It was never anything bad or evil they did, just…little pranks. And some bigger pranks. And some accidents when a prank did not go as planned (how were they supposed to know those pies would explode all over Slughorn’s face? Besides, sometimes sacrifices had to be made for scientific purposes).

Compared to that, secret hunting was almost tame. So it should be no problem, James figured. Because, realistically, what was the worst that could happen?

(He would soon find out just how much trouble a prince could get into.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.)

***

Lily congratulated herself on the idea of taking Nick out for a ride today, because the weather was simply perfect. The crisp air and wide, snowy plains were invigorating and made her forget about all of her problems for a while. Who cared about mean stepmothers when one could just enjoy the winter sun?

Nature, especially these parts of the lands surrounding the estate held a special place in her heart. When Lord Evans had still been alive, he’d used to come to these woods with her a lot. He had shown his daughter how to ride, how to shoot and hunt, but also how to watch, observe and to care for things and animals alike. Often, they would come home with flowers picked for Lily’s mother, some berries they found, or, on special occasions, with some animal they had hunted for the servants to have a feast with. (While shooting arrows certainly was exiting and she had, over time, developed an almost flawless aim, Lily did not enjoy killing things. So when she did hunt something, she made sure it didn’t go to waste.) These little outings with her father had been their time to bond, especially after he married Lady Evans, who had soon started taking up more and more of his day, trying her best to both include herself and Petunia and exclude Lily in all family activities. And with him now gone, Lily did it as a way to remember him.

Lost in her memories, she almost didn’t notice that she wasn’t alone when she guided Nicholas through the trees to the edge of a clearing. There were three people on the other side of the field, their bright, colourful tights a sharp contrast against the freshly fallen snow as they made their way towards a small cluster of trees. They hadn’t spotted her yet, instead caught up in their own conversation.

Lily grinned. This day had just gotten even more interesting.

“Hush”, she whispered to Nick. “Let’s not let them see us.” Leaving him hidden in the trees, she quickly crept closer to the group, doing her best to keep to the treeline. As she got closer, she could make out more details: three young men, dressed in expensive and flashy clothing (or two of them, at least, though she supposed the other one’s coat had also been expensive, once). One of them was strikingly tall with a scar on his face, while the smaller, very handsome one kept gesticulating and fidgeting with his hat. The third man was the one that caught Lily’s attention, though. He wasn’t strikingly pretty like his smaller companion with the blue hat, or a little rugged, like the tall one. The man was tall and very attractive, certainly, but it was his smile which made her breath hitch. It was the kind of smile that was almost blinding and ridiculously infectious. Like the sun had come out on a particularly gloomy day.

Lily knew this smile very well. She had observed, obsessed over this smile, ever since she’d seen it when the royal family had passed through her estate exactly a year ago. She’d been forbidden to stand next to her step-family and had instead watched the royal procession from the crowd of the many servants, eager for a look at these fancy and exiting people. And there he had been, the prince, on a horse next to his parents, smiling and waving. And her heart had stopped for a beat.

From up closer, he was exactly as handsome as she remembered, even with this monstrosity of a red hat upon his messy black hair. But she supposed she couldn’t argue about fashion when she herself was wearing a brown servant’s dress, stained with ash and other things, and a vest that looked as if it got passed down to her by Hagrid (which it had been, actually). At least her outfit made her less visible against the trees than, for example, bright colourful tights with matching hats, though.

She was within listening range now and could make out the men’s conversation.

“Your father will be furious”, the tall man with the purple hat said.

The prince scoffed. “My father will just be jealous he couldn’t get out of this dreadful visit, himself.” Dreadful? Lily frowned. Nice to know what the royals actually thought about their citizens.

She had actually been quite looking forward to this day, to catch another glimpse at the prince. But she supposed it could be a little exhausting having people gawk at you all the time. Still, he seemed rather rude about it. She had imagined him to be a little nicer in person. Never meet your heroes, I guess.

The prince spotted something, apparently, and motioned his friends to be quiet. Lily followed his line of sight and saw some tracks on the freshly fallen snow, belonging to a young doe who was peacefully munching on a frozen leaf. The men approached, quietly, getting their crossbows ready.

Lily grinned. Not on my watch, idiots.

Quickly, she crouched down to gather some snow in her hands, formed a ball and launched it at the prince’s ugly hat, just as he made to shoot his arrow.

Her aim was, as usual, impeccable. The snowball knocked the hat right off of his head, some of the snow breaking off and hitting him in the face, as well. He sputtered, dropped the crossbow in surprise and it clattered to the ground, much to the amusement of his friends (and Lily, who tried to laugh as quietly as possible as to not draw attention to herself).

“Where have your shooting skills gone, your highness?”, the handsome fellow teased while the prince picked up his crossbow and hat, shaking off the snow. All the noise had scared off the doe, who had disappeared into the trees.

The prince chuckled, seemingly a little confused. “Oh, shut up. What was that?”

“I think you mean who”, the tall man said, grinning, pointing to where Lily was giggling behind a tree branch. Upon being discovered, she turned and ran away through the trees, still laughing. The three men looked at her, then at each other, before throwing their crossbows into the snow and running after her. “Oi!”, the prince yelled, “you there! Stop!”

But Lily had no intentions of stopping. While she may not be the fastest runner, she was not slow either, and she knew these woods like the back of her hand. So she knew, for example, where the snow was deeper than other places, which stones and trees she could hide behind, which paths to take back to her horse. It would be easy to make a quick getaway, but really, she thought as she jumped over a tree trunk, leading these ridiculous looking men on a wild chase through the woods was the most fun she’d had in ages.

It was like a game: she’d run ahead, hide for a moment and let them pass her, then run off in the opposite direction. The three didn’t seem to be the best or brightest opponents, though. They hadn’t thought to split up, for example, instead of chasing her all together, head on. And they fell for her moves every single time (quite literally, seeing as were about knee-deep in snow right now). Lily smirked, got out from behind her stone and ran up another hill again. It was almost too easy to disappear between the trees.

After a few more minutes of this, Lily hid behind a tree to catch her breath and tried to decide wether she wanted them to catch her or not. What would be more fun? How long would they keep following her?

When she quickly peeked out from behind her tree, she spotted the prince moving toward her, suddenly much closer than she’d anticipated. He was alone and grinning. She backed away a few steps, keeping her eye on him, but just as she turned around she found herself face to face with the tall man and let out a gasp. He gave her a mocking little wave, while his two companions approached her from the other sides.

It seemed that Lily had…miscalculated a little and was now backed into a corner. Or backed into a tree, more accurately.

“Is that all?”, the green-hatted (and purple-tighted) tall man said, panting a little as they closed in on her. They all wore matching triumphant smirks, especially the prince who made his way around the tree to face her properly now. She found she liked his face even more, up close. She could see the dimples on his cheeks more accurately, just like that mischievous glint in his eyes. They were brown, but a lighter brown, almost hazel.

“Huh. But that’s just a little girl”, the prince said, chuckling, sounding a little surprised. And while she did like the way he looked, Lily did not care for his tone at all. What did you expect, git? An army of snow-throwing monsters?

The three of them were laughing properly now. “A chicken without feathers”, the one with the blue cap snorted, which Lily found rich considering he wasn’t much taller than her. Also - chicken? That was the weirdest insult she’d ever heard. She mustered the men, thoroughly unimpressed, while they continued laughing like morons. The prince stepped closer, which earned him a swat on the hat, making it fall into his face. He gasped.

“Well, would you look at that”, he said to the others, “she wants to fight us.”

“Maybe she even wants a spanking”, blue hat added with a wink.

Lily snorted. “Yeah, when hell freezes over, idiots.” With that, she took off again, using the second of surprised and outraged sputtering behind her to her advantage to run back to where she’d seen them leave their horses. When she turned around, she saw them following her over the hill and smirked, waiting for them to get closer.

“You wouldn’t want to tussle with a little girl now, would you, three big strong men like you?” Then she jumped up onto the grey horse with the red saddle, which she assumed was the prince’s, judging from his indignant yell.

“Get down from there!”, he shouted at her, “he’ll throw you off!” But Lily just spurned the horse on further, swiftly and elegantly galloping away without any problem, leaving the three men gawking behind her.

(“That won’t end well”, Remus panted, picking up his crossbow and looking after the strange girl.

“Yeah, not even the stable master goes near that horse”, Sirius said, “he doesn’t let anyone ride him except for James.”

“What a crazy girl”, the prince muttered to himself. He was smiling, though.)

When she’d gotten back to where Nick was patiently waiting for her, Lily jumped off the horse and gave it a strong pat on the back. “Go on, go back to your master.”

Then she hopped onto Nick and disappeared into the woods.

(”She ought to be punished”, Sirius grumbled, “Look, my hat got all snowy!”

“She ought to get a medal, more likely”, James laughed as he caught his horse by the reigns. “For fooling us like that.”

“Your Highness!” A man came from the trees on the far end of the field, panting, his regal clothes in disarray, as if he’d fallen off his fat little horse quite a few times. Remus cursed. “Shit, how’d Slughorn get here so fast?”

“Gentlemen, your lessons await!”

The three young men exchanged a look, then laughed and jumped onto their horses, taking off in the opposite direction.)

***

“And his royal highness, the prince, did not deign to come today?”

The king sighed and took a sip out of the goblet offered to him. “Oh yes, he did deign. However, he got caught up in the beauty of the nature along the way. He hopes you’ll excuse his absence.”

“Of course, sire. Only, you see, my Petunia and I, we’ve been looking forward to this day for months now. My Tuney was so exited, she could barely sleep. And just last night, I dreamt that
your royal highnesses invited us to the ball next week. Imagine that, my Tuney and my humble self! It was such a vivid dream…you said, you would love to have us there.”

The king and queen shared a long-suffering look of two people being very much put on the spot.

“We would love to have you there”, the queen said, her smile a little strained.

“It would be our pleasure. Many thanks for your hospitality”, the king continued, handing back the goblets of wine and helping his wife onto the carriage before getting on, himself. “Let us ride, before it gets dark.” With a last wave, and another curtsy from everyone at the estate, the royal procession finally set off.

Lady Evans smiled victoriously. “See”, she explained to her daughter, “that’s how it’s done. Now we’ve got ourselves invitations to the royal ball. Who knows, maybe you’ll even catch the prince’s eye!”

Petunia let out a laugh and Lady Evans shrugged. “What? You’re not that hideous, after all.” She patted her daughter’s cheek (whose smile had been instantly wiped off by her comment) and went back inside the house.

***

“Good grief”, the queen muttered as she soon as they were out of the front gates, “what a horrible woman”. Her husband let out a grunt of agreement and tiredly ran his hands through his face.

The visit had gone on for much longer than they had hoped, mainly on account of Lady Evans chattering on for ages. Mind you, the king and queen weren’t opposed to chattering, per se (they couldn’t be, with a son like theirs). It’s just that conversations with Lady Evans were rarely ever stimulating and consisted mainly of compliments to them and to herself.

About ten minutes after they had left, three riders joined the procession. King Fleamont shook his head. “Aren’t you ashamed to be behaving like a child?”, he chided his son when he caught up to the carriage. “When I was your age, I was already -“

“- carrying the burden of governing, I know.”

Queen Euphemia let out a little chuckle while the king tutted. “Just you laugh at your father, James. You’ll see some sense when I marry you off. That’ll calm you right down.”

The prince rolled his eyes. “I appreciate your wisdom”, he responded, which translated meant something along the lines of yeah, yeah.

The queen elbowed her husband. “My dear, we can talk about this at home. Without witnesses”, she added, nodding to the people around them. The king sighed, deeply, turning to his son’s companions. “Gentlemen, I was hoping you’d focus your attention on court etiquette.”

Sir Black nodded gravely. “Certainly, your majesty. We try our hardest not to lose a singe minute.”

“And these studies are surely some of the most difficult”, Sir Lupin added. The king snorted.

“What did you do to poor Slughorn?”, he asked.

Sirius gasped. “Oh no! He must have gotten lost in the woods”, he said, without an ounce of pity.

“I just hope nothing happens to him”, Remus sighed.

Shaking his head, the king waved them off, while his son had led his horse over to the other side of the carriage.

“Did he mean what he said? I have to get married?”, James asked his mother. She nodded. “Yes, I fear this time your father is quite determined. There will be no more putting it off.”

The prince paled, looking horrified.

***

“A whole roll of silk, golden thread, 30 ells of velvet for the train -“

“But mummy, I don't want velvet!” Petunia pouted as she wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. Her mother tutted.

“Tuney, the velvet is for me. 30 ells of the best and most expensive atlas -“

"30 will be too little.”

“Then take 40. Oh, and a wide golden band, 10 ells.”

“And I need silver clasps!”

“Yes, and tell the dressmaker that you'll pick them up the day after tomorrow. The ball is coming
up soon, after all. Did you remember all of that, Hagrid?

The stable master sighed as he got onto the carriage. “Yes, yes, m‘lady.” Hagrid righted the floppy hat on his head and spurned on the horses, riding out through the gate. While he did enjoy getting away from Lady Evans for a while, the journey into town was not something he was particularly looking forward to. He had not slept very well and would much rather stay in the stables to tend to the horses than to sit on an uncomfortable sleigh-carriage today. But orders were orders.

While driving through the snowy woods, Hagrid pondered over the situation. If things were different, he might try to find employment somewhere else, at a nicer estate with kinder people in charge. But Lord Evans, God rest his soul, had taken him in many years ago when he had nothing, offered him food and shelter and work and for that he was eternally grateful. This place was his home, now, he knew it like the back of his hand. And even if he could imagine living anywhere else, who was going to watch over the Lord’s daughter? With her father gone and her stepmother being the way she was, Hagrid could never bring himself to leave. He owed it to the late Lord, and to Lily.

Just as he thought that, he saw a small figure sitting by the little stream he passed, hunched over the edge of the footbridge. He frowned.

“Oi, Lily!”

She looked up and he pulled his horses to a stop. There was a bunch of rags and cloths in a bucket next to her, as well as a wooden washing board. It seemed she had been washing them in the icy river. And judging from the red, cracked skin on her hands, she’d been at it for a while. 

“What’re you doing there? You’ll catch your death, girl.”

Lily shrugged, glumly. “Orders from the lady. Just like you, I imagine. Off to town?”

He nodded, wishing he could make all of this better for her. Or at least give her a blanket or a coat against the harsh wind.

“Want me to get you somethin’?”

She snorted bitterly. “Yeah, a diamond necklace. And a dress made from the finest silk in the land. I can already see them inviting me to the ball.” She looked close to tears and he itched to give her a hug, like he had when she was little.

“Oh Lils, you know that if it were up to me, I’d buy you anything you wanted. All the diamond necklaces in the world.”

Lily laughed wetly, then sniffled. “In that case, just get me the first thing that falls into your lap on your way.”

Hagrid nodded again, then spurned the horses on, the bells on the sleigh ringing behind him as he continued through the wintery landscape.

(He would take her words quite literally, in the end. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself again.)