May 1969
When she opened her eyes that morning, she didn’t realize something had changed. Maybe it was because it had been building up for a while; maybe it was because the change had been for the better. Maybe it was because she opened her eyes and saw only familiarity.
She stared up at the slats that help up her sister’s mattress. Their shared vanity was on the other side of the room, Beatles posters decorating the wall behind it and their Barbie dolls strewn across the floor. She smiled quietly, remembering their game from the night before.
“Come on, do it again!” Lily egged on her sister.
A sly grin crossed Petunia’s face. Wrinkled tickled at her eyes, and she tossed the Barbie into the air, flicking her wrist. The doll spun, and it’s hand-sewn dress furled out in the wind. Time slowed, and Lily stared in awe. Her sister could make the dolls do anything; it was practically magic. “Like that?” she asked, her crooked teeth flashing.
“Yes, yes!” Lily cried, clapping.
“You try,” Petunia told her. “Just a little toss, not too hard.”
Lily concentrated hard, staring at her doll’s maroon dress. Their mother had sewn them a few gowns to play with for Christmas and had made Lily a matching gown for her birthday. Petunia’s 11th birthday was coming up, and Lily knew she was hoping for one, too. Lily wrapped her hands around the doll’s midsection and lightly tossed her into the air.
But she misjudged the angle, and the doll came down right over her head, crashing down on her red hair. She burst out laughing, and Petunia cackled at her, too. “Oh, Lily!” she exclaimed, tears rolling down her face. When Lily stopped to look at her, the sight of Petunia crying was so comical that Lily burst out laughing again, rolling back on the floor.
The pale green walls glistened with light pouring in through the window. The window was propped open with one of Pet’s books, and a humid breeze wafted in. Lily propped herself up to look out of the window and confirmed her suspicions: the tree leaves were wet. With dew or rain, she couldn’t be sure, but either way, it would be a luscious day for playing outside.
Lily had recently taken a liking to the flowers that surrounded their backyard. There was a forest that loomed behind their house, a beaten path cutting through to Spinner’s End. She wanted to explore the woods some more. She sighed softly, imagining the tulips that freckled the path. Petunia hadn’t wanted to explore at all yesterday, and she had resigned herself to drawing with chalk on the driveway. But she drew flowers there, too, so it hadn’t been all bad.
She heard rustling from above. Lily froze, a breath of a smile on her face. Petunia’s awake. She stayed quiet, listening for more.
A sharp inhale from above, and her tell-tale creak. “Lily?” she heard.
She smiled. “I’m here!”
∙ ∙ ∙
They got dressed quickly, ate breakfast leisurely, soaking in the last moments of their weekend. Petunia still had to do her math homework, and was putting it off as long as possible. Lily, only in the 3th grade, still didn’t have much homework. Her book that she was supposed to be reading for class was already finished, sitting on the vanity. The rest of her class was only halfway through, but Lily couldn’t seem to get enough of the stories her teachers gave her.
They chewed their porridge with strawberries slowly, telling their parents about the dolls upstairs. “And then she threw it, and it just plopped back on her head!” Petunia was saying, howling between bites. Lily just smiled, hoping to get some extra time on the path today. Sure enough, her parents dismissed her, telling her to wash the bowl before she went outside. She smiled grimly at Petunia, knowing her middle school homework would be a pain. Secretly, Lily was just relieved she wouldn’t have to do that for another few years.
Lily washed her bowl, then ran to grab her rainboots. They were bright yellow; the same color as the daffodils that were supposed to be blooming soon. “Lily, don’t forget your coat, too! It might rain later,” her mother warned. Lily grabbed her raincoat—yellow, too—and dashed out the door.
The sun was high in the sky, midday was already creeping up. But as soon as she stepped outside, time seemed to slow. The day became endless when she was wandering on the path alone. Her boots carried her around to their backyard and she zeroed in on the natural archway, both welcoming and ominous that was the passageway.
“I’m coming for you,” she whispered, eyes twinkling.
She took off, mud splattering under her boots. Streaks of brown over the yellow coat and boots failed to faze her; she was scanning for flora.
Tulips caught her eye: red, pink, orange, and all the shades in between colored her vision. They dotted the spaces between the trees, which had bloomed just enough to provide her some shade from the sun. They were reforming their summery canopy day by day.
She traipsed through the brush and flowers, wandering just off the path to a cluster of almost-bloomed daffodils. They were so close, why couldn’t they just bloom?
Lily crouched down around them. She placed a delicate hand under the bud and sighed sadly. If only they would peek through a little more, and…
She gasped. As though the flower had heard her, it began to unfurl right before her eyes. The yellow petals peaked through as if it had seen Lily’s coat and wanted to match it. Her fingers, still holding the now flower, tickled with energy.
The flower next to it seemed to be leaning towards her hand, as though Lily was made of light. She brushed the neighboring flower’s bud, and it too unfurled before her eyes.
She was entranced.
So much so that she failed to notice a young boy wandering down the path who had just strolled over to see what she was doing.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone crouch down on the other side of the patch of flowers. She gasped again, surprised that anyone was on the path in the first place, but also struck with a twinge of guilt. Was this normal? She certainly didn’t think so. Petunia had never made flowers bloom, but maybe she just didn’t like them like Lily did.
Would the boy think she was weird? What did he want?
But he didn’t say anything, just placed his hand under one of the flowers too. And to Lily’s astonishment, his flower bloomed too. And so did the flowers next to his.
With a stroke of inspiration and confidence, Lily took her hand and waved it over the whole patch. Like she was painting with flowers, they bloomed one by one at the signal of her touch. Was she made of light? Was this boy, too?
He smiled at her trick, and then glanced over at her. His eyes were dark brown, hair long, unlike her dad’s. But he had a smile like Petunia’s, and they seemed to share a secret. She and Pet had a lot of secrets, but Petunia didn’t know about this one. For some reason, this one felt a little extra special because of that.
Little did she know, he had a secret of his own hiding in plain sight. He reached out and touched a nearby tree, and it opened up entirely; branches spurting from the sides, leaves blooming, and after a moment, it became a tree of summer in a forest of spring. Lily gaped.
He chuckled at her face and extended his hand out to her. “Severus.”
Lily softened and reached out. “Lily.”
She could have a secret with a friend. They didn’t all have to be with Petunia. Right?