King
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
Mr. Potter stares at Lily, drenched by the rain by her horrible attempt at apparating all the way from Norwich to Godric’s Hollow. She turned up in the village, a five minutes walk away. On a different night, she wouldn’t have minded the chance to clear her head. In this storm, however, and out in the open, she couldn’t even manage an umbrella charm.
“Come in, child, come now,” Mr. Potter says, stepping aside and allowing Lily to come into the house–Manor, really. She’s been here before, last summer when James invited everyone over for a party while his parents were in Ireland. “Right. Do you know any drying charms?”
She sniffs, looking up at him. “What?”
“A drying charm? You’re shivering, dear girl.”
She nods. “Oh, yes. I do.” She casts the charm over herself, and is instantly dry and warm, perhaps suitable for a place like this. The Manor is so nice, so old, so warm. It’s filled with love–the walls reek of it. It’s almost love in a sad way, like there’s too much of it. Is there such a thing? James would say there’s not.
“Tea?” Mr. Potter asks.
Lily’s head snaps up. She’s spacey these days. “No thank you. I shouldn’t have come, really. It’s late, and you were probably sleeping, and I, well, I just…”
“Something’s the matter, that much is clear,” Mr. Potter says. “Why don’t you come sit and tell me all about it. You’re no trouble at all, I assure you.”
Lily gulps. “If it’s… if it’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay. Just this way.” Mr. Potter leads Lily into a sitting room decorated with landscape paintings and piled-up bookshelves, a busy wallpaper on the walls, peeling in odd places. A single spell would fix it for eternity. The Potters probably like it like this. They’re the type of people who enjoy the progression of time.
Lily sits down on the sofa when prompted by Mr. Potter, eyes falling shut. She’s exhausted, but she’ll never sleep. How long has it been since she’s managed a full night of sleep? Back at Hogwarts, maybe. Three weeks since then.
“Now,” Mr. Potter sits across from Lily on the couch, summoning tea with a wave of his wand, “won’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”
The sitting room is so formal that Lily would have never been caught in it looking like a mess. She’d put on a nice dress or skirt and sit with a straight back the way her grandmother taught her to. She’d be ladylike, she’d present herself as a good daughter. But she’s wearing sweatshorts and a t-shirt–thank God she has a bra on–and her hair hasn’t been brushed since Tuesday and her eyes are puffy and her cheeks are red. She tucks her foot under her thigh and promptly begins sobbing.
“Oh, there there,” Mr. Potter says, pulling Lily into his arms. He smells exactly like how James does after a holiday. Of spices and warmth but most notably of ginger. They use the same body wash. “It’s been a hard year all around, hasn’t it?”
Lily nods, thumbnail in her mouth like a child, shaking. “I’m s-s-sorry.”
“Never be.” Mr. Potter lets her go and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Drink some tea. Are you hungry?”
She shakes her head.
“Won’t you tell me?”
Lily shakily grabs a tea cup. Really, it’s a mug that says ‘Quidditch Legend’ on it in big red letters. It’s a lemon ginger tea and it burns Lily’s tongue. She says, “Has James ever told you about my… about my sister?”
Mr. Potter thinks for a moment. “Hmm… Petunia, right?”
“Yes,” Lily confirms. She begins slowly, speaking through her tears. “Well, Tuney and I never got along very well. We might’ve when we were little, but she… she’s always resented me for being a witch. She hates it. She’s never come to see me off at King’s Cross, she never welcomes me home. For the better part of holidays, she pretends like I’m not there.”
Mr. Potter nods, listening intently.
“I don’t know… I don’t know what I did. I reckon it’s all of her religious nonsense, but I’ve always hated people for using religion as justification.” Lily holds her mug in her lap, bitten fingertips tapping at the ceramic silently. “It got worse when Dad died. He would always mediate the situation if it got too much. Then… well. Mum has just given up now. She was so proud of me in the beginning, but it’s all fading.”
She looks down at her cup. A tear splashes into the golden liquid. “Petunia and I got into an argument in front of Mum. I asked her to mediate, and she took Petunia’s side. She said that… that…”
“That what?” Mr. Potter prompts.
Lily shakes her head, biting down hard on her lip. She calms her breathing, thinking back to that moment, that feeling in her heart.
“Lily?”
Her head snaps up at James’ voice, the gruffness instantly recognizable. He’s standing in the doorway to the sitting room, hair messy, hood over his head. She wipes her tears and offers a small smile. “Hi, James.”
“What’re you doing downstairs this late?” Mr. Potter asks his son.
“Getting water,” James replies. “What’s Lily doing here?”
“Turned up about five minutes ago, didn’t I?” She jokes humorlessly.
“Are you okay?” James asks.
“Clearly not,” she replies, managing to keep her wit. Perfect James. She must be perfect around him if she’ll ever mean anything to him. Not that she wants to. Just that she thinks she should.
“Lily, you’ll call your mother to tell her where you are, then you’ll go to bed,” Mr. Potter says.
“No, it’s fine.” She stands up, putting the mug back onto the coffee table louder than intended. “I’ll go home. I’ll apparate. I’m much more accurate when I’m going home.”
“You won’t,” James says, a firmness in his voice that Lily isn’t sure she’s heard before. “It’s nearly midnight. You can sleep in Sirius’ bed, it’s already made up and everything.”
“Where’s Sirius?”
“Remus is here.”
Lily snorts, understanding immediately. “Ah.”
“James, show Lily where the phone is, please.”
He’s in his sleep clothes. Boxers and a sweatshirt likely thrown over a bare chest. His glasses are slightly crooked and his hair is a complete mess. He’s darker than he is during the school year. There’s more pimples on his cheek.
James leads Lily to a different room, where the phone sits on a center table like it’s the entire purpose of the room. Maybe rich people have those. Phone rooms. Maybe it’s a wizard thing.
“Will you tell me what happened?” James asks, standing rather close.
Lily’s finger hovers over zero. “Petunia happened. That’s what.”
“Ah.”
She quickly dials her number and puts the phone against her cheek, anger replacing the sadness, coursing through her veins, red instead of blue. She’s a force to be reckoned with, that’s what her father said. She’s a firm believer that both fathers and mothers should support their children no matter what.
“Hello, Evans residence.”
Lily rolls her eyes and whispers, “It’s Tuney.” Into the speaker, she says, “Tuney, it’s Lily, please tell Mum that I’m safe.”
“She’s asleep. I’ll tell her in the morning.”
“She’s asleep?!”
“That’s what I just said,” Petunia says boredly.
Lily hangs up, slamming the phone back onto the receiver and bringing her hands to her face, letting out a frustrated grunt. James stands off to the side, unsure of what to do while he watches Lily have the worst mental breakdown of her life. Her brain can’t seem to decide which emotions she should be feeling.
“James,” she asks.
“Yes?” He answers, always happy to be of use.
“Can you cast a really really good silencing charm?”
“For you? Anything. I need your wand, though.”
“What.”
“I don’t have mine. I never keep it on me when I’m home.”
Lily throws her wand to him, pulling it out of her waistband. As soon as the charm is cast, Lily screams. It’s bloodcurdling and it’s horrible. It makes her want to rip out her ears. Her vocal chords tingle when she’s done. She screams again. It’s cathartic, it’s good, it makes her want to drive a knife into her chest to tear out her heart. A mother’s relationship with her daughter will always be complicated, but why does it have to be so one-sided? Why is Lily the only one who ever makes any effort at all? How could she go to bed without knowing the whereabouts of her child?
“My mother said it’s better when I’m away at school,” Lily says angrily, whirling around on James like he’s a victim, though he’s just in his pants and he’s scratching his temples with the tip of Lily’s wand. “She said that I complicate things when I come home. I said that maybe it would be better if I left for good, and she agreed with me. That’s what happened.”
“Goddamn,” James breathes.
Lily could pull out her hair. She could throw James against the wall without even touching him. She could choke him without laying a hand on him. She could throw every book off the shelves in this room with the force of her own magic. How dare her mother think her lesser? How dare her mother say the family is better off without her?
She is Lily Evans. She tops every class. She received an O.W.L. in every subject. She has many friends and she is loved and she is magic and she is proud of it. She was a prefect and now she is Head Girl. She was the first in her class to apparate without splinching. She has worked her entire life to be worthy of the title of a witch, to be worthy of Petunia. She did not know she had to work to be worthy in her mother’s eyes.
That should be a given for a mother. That’s what Lily thinks.
“Lily,” James tries.
“Don’t talk to me,” she snaps. She’s pacing. Her mother fell asleep without knowing that her daughter was safe. That means something, doesn’t it? Lily wishes she had Marlene or Mary or Dorcas here with her. They’d understand the delicate place of a daughter, they’d understand what it’s like to be one. The pressure on her shoulders. She has to be perfect for Petunia and her mother. She has to be perfect for James. It’s too much.
She drops to the ground and begins to cry, surprising herself that her body has anything left.
James is by her side in an instant, hugging her and giving her his shoulder, probably enjoying every second of it because Lily lets him. She wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his chest, so much shorter than him. Their knees touch and their heads are in awkward positions. They don’t know how to do this sort of thing. This is not what James and Lily do. They shout at each other and pour gravy on each other’s head and chase each other through the halls and get in arguments so nasty that they don’t talk for days until someone offers a chocolate and they’re back to being friends.
“What’ve I done so wrong?” Lily asks James, but mostly asks the world. She’s a witch so she cannot believe in God even though she was raised to, so there’s nobody up there to answer her prayers.
“Nothing,” James says, rocking her back and forth. “Nothing at all. You, Lily? You are everything and more. It’s a shame Petunia can’t see that.”
“I wish my dad were here,” she says, voice muffled by his sweatshirt.
“I know.” His hand is in her hair. His other one is at her back. He burns like he’s on fire. “I know.”
Eventually, somehow, James manages to get her standing, taking her hand and leading her back into the sitting room, where Mr. Potter is patiently waiting.
“She called,” James tells him. “I’ll take her upstairs, if that’s okay.”
“Perfectly fine,” Mr. Potter says. He takes Lily’s hand and looks up at her. “You are ever so loved here, Lily. So incredibly loved.”
“You don’t know me,” Lily rasps, voice small.
“I know your heart and your character.” He pats her hand and lets go. “And that’s enough for me. Now off to bed.”
“Thank you,” she says, voice just a whisper.
“You’re welcome.”
James squeezes her hand. “Come on.”
She follows James back through the hallway into a rather grand staircase where the stairs creak and the banister rattles, sound echoing through the whole house.
“If you don’t lighten your footsteps you’ll have your mum and the lovers coming out of their rooms to see what the ruckus is,” Lily jokes in a whisper.
“Huh?” James turns down a hallway. There’s plaques on the doors, chalkboards with places for the chalk on top. She passes two empty plaques before getting to Remus’ room, which reeks of a silencing charm in his signature brand of magic, then there’s Sirius’ room just across the hall, name written as ‘Padfoot’. Lily has never understood their strange nicknames for each other.
“It’s just you’re always so loud.”
“Well, I doubt the lovers can hear anything through,” he gestures vaguely to the door, “that. And mum is all the way on the other side of the house. I’ve got heavy feet.”
“Clearly,” Lily says. Her voice is still weak from all her crying and screaming. It’s a bit pathetic when she’s trying to be her usual force.
“Okay, well, here’s Sirius’ room. We’ll make up another bed tomorrow if you’re staying,” he says. “Do you want a sweatshirt or anything?”
“Could I?”
“‘Course,” he says, backing up and ducking into his own room. Lily isn’t sure whether or not she should follow him, so she stands with her hand on the doorknob, staring down at her sandaled feet.
James comes back with a bundle of clothes in hand, passing them to her one by one. “It’s a jumper and a pair of trousers, and some socks–your feet look cold–and a blanket. If you get cold. It’ll all be too big, but–”
“James.” Lily touches his hand gently. “Thank you. It means the world.”
“‘Course,” he says, a little breathless. “Anything.” He reaches around the door frame to flick on the light. “Well. I’m just down the hall if you need anything. At all, anything.”
“I’m fine, really.” She steps inside the room. “Will you get me up when everyone else is awake?”
“Sure, but Remus and Sirius usually sleep in.”
“Good. So do I.”
James smiles softly. “Goodnight, Lily.”
“Goodnight.” She shuts the door softly, biting down on her lip to stop a smile. Her mother has all but disowned her, her sister is as awful as ever, and James Potter is making her smile. She puts on his sweatshirt and his socks, but leaves the trousers and the blanket on the floor.
Sirius’ room is surprisingly clean. There are barely any clothes on the floor, and the surfaces are rather tidy. There’s quidditch posters on the walls and absolutely everything is covered in Gryffindor red. It smells like his cologne, a signature Sirius Black scent.
Lily lays down in his bed and covers herself with his quilt. She and Sirius only became friends last year. They got close during fifth year, but then there was The Incident in which Sirius gave Remus’ secret away to Severus, who Lily was still friends with in fifth year. Sixth year showed Lily that she and Sirius were more similar than not, gray relationships with their siblings, the pressures they put on themselves, the oldest son and youngest daughter. They met by the window one night just after a vicious storm, shared a joint, talked about their problems, and that was that. Friendship.
She wraps herself in his covers and is asleep in a minute.
~
“Lily. Lily.”
“James?”
“I’m off for a run. Do you need anything?” He stands over Sirius’ bed, taking his hand off her shoulder, which he roused her from.
She shakes her head, turning back over.
~
Lily is awoken for real by Sirius creeping back into the room. He shuts the door softly behind him and tip-toes to the bathroom, oblivious to the girl in his bed. He’s wearing boxers and has the rest of his clothes clutched to his chest, and there’s nasty bruises over his chest and neck. He goes into the bathroom and Lily sits up, rubbing her puffy eyes and scratching her scalp, oil coming between her nails and her skin. Time to wash, she supposes.
Sirius comes back out of the bathroom, and his bruises are gone, probably glamored over with a charm. He looks up from his feet and makes a sound akin to a duckling that was just stepped on.
“Good morning to you too, Black,” Lily says.
“Merlin, Evans, you just about gave me the fright of my life,” he says groggily, clutching his chest, walking forward. “Why’re you here?”
“I always love your many kindnesses.”
“Budge over, swot.” He climbs into bed beside her and drops himself face down on the pillow. Muffled, he says, “Now, I’ve had a very rough night and I’d like to sleep.”
“What time is it?”
“Eight something.”
Lily climbs over his body, falling onto the floor with a loud thump. “Can I take your clothes?”
Sirius grunts. Lily takes this as a yes.
She goes through his wardrobe, finding a pair of jeans that seem like they’d fit at the waist. She changes in the bathroom, leaving on her own t-shirt, and takes Sirius’ socks as well. James has massive feet, but Sirius has nice delicate ones. He’s already asleep when Lily comes back into the room, face down in his pillow, just like that.
Lily laughs to herself and leaves the room. God bless these boys who always manage to keep her in high spirits without trying to.
Conversation wafts upstairs, and Lily follows it to the kitchen, where James and his parents sit around the kitchen table with mugs of tea in front of them, all mismatched. James stands up straight away, chair clattering behind him.
“Oh, Lily, dear,” Mrs. Potter says, abandoning her copy of The Daily Prophet to envelope Lily in a hug. She’s ready to start crying again, right then and there. She can’t remember the last time her own mother hugged her like this. “Monty told me you came last night.”
“I’m sorry it was so late, and I didn’t tell anyone,” Lily says “I just didn’t know where to go.”
Mrs. Potter lets go of Lily and pats her on the cheek. “Nonsense. Our doors are always open. I’m glad you remembered where we live.”
“I turned up in the village,” Lily says. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at landing where I mean to.”
“It’s difficult to get the hang of.”
James pulls out a chair beside him. “Sit down, Lily. Do you want anything to eat?”
With James and his parents, Lily enjoys a calm breakfast of eggs and toast. She’s mostly quiet through it, sitting on her own legs, listening to Effie and Fleamont discuss the matters of the war with each other, using jargon and code-words so that the kids can’t work out what’s being said. Then, James and his dad get onto the topic of quidditch, and Mrs. Potter begins the crossword.
Not long later, Remus comes downstairs, eyes so puffy they’re barely open. He’s wearing his Bowie shirt that nearly has holes, and he looks a bit worse for wear even though he’s in the sweet spot between moons, about a week when he feels perfectly normal.
James and Lily share a knowing look. They’re not supposed to know about Sirius and Remus, but it’s hard not to. They’re not very subtle.
“‘Morning, Remus,” Lily says.
Remus pauses halfway to the fridge and turns around on his heels, eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you here?”
“I’m so pleased that everyone has been so nice to me this morning,” Lily says sarcastically. “Black said that exact same thing to me, and right after that he called me a swot.”
Remus shrugs. “You are.”
Lily chucks her sweatshirt at him. “You are too!”
“Anybody who has ever had the pleasure of meeting me might say differently.” Remus turns around and sticks his head inside the fridge, coming out with a carton of orange juice.
James snorts.
After a while, both Mr. and Mrs. Potter leave for work, kissing all three children on the cheeks before heading out back to apparate. Mr. Potter has his Sleekeazy business, and Mrs. Potter works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
“I was thinking of going down to the creek today, what d'ya say, Moony?” James asks, lighting a cigarette as soon as the back door slams shut.
“Sure,” Remus replies, chowing down on his sixth piece of toast.
“When’ll Sirius be down?”
“Dunno,” Lily says. “He crept back into bed right before I came down. He seemed very worn out.”
Remus chokes. James turns around to hide his smile.
“I swear to fucking Godric, I could write an entire Slughorn essay before Sirius wakes up in the summer. It’s like he goes into hibernation,” James says.
“Not all of us can be you.” Remus slides Mrs. Potter’’s copy of The Daily Prophet in his direction, scanning the headlines. “Up at six, eh?”
“I’ve got to be in shape for quidditch this year,” James defends.
“And this is different from any other year how?”
“It’s my last year! We’ve got to win the house cup or I’ll bloody well kill myself.”
Remus throws a piece of toast at his face. “Don’t say shit like that. We’ve had enough death recently.”
“Anyone we know in the paper?” Lily asks. She usually gets The Prophet delivered to her house over the summer. The delivery owl is probably sitting on her window ledge, perfectly confused.
Remus flips to the back page, scanning the death list that becomes longer as the days pass by and the war drags on. So far, they’ve managed for it not to lap on their shores, but it’ll be any day now. “There’s a Vance.”
“First name?”
“Neil.”
Lily shakes her head. “Not anyone in Emmeline’s immediate family.”
“Other than that, no. No raids or anything last night, no muggle families reported dead…”
“Merlin, the world is grim right now.” James puts out his cigarette in an ashtray in the middle of the table.
“Too early for war talk,” Sirius says, coming into the room, rubbing his eye. His shirt is cropped and his trousers ride low on his hips.
“You’re up early,” James remarks.
“I thought I’d honor our esteemed guest with my presence.” Sirius drops into the chair beside Remus and filches his last piece of toast. “Good morning, swot.”
“Good morning, blood-traitor.”
“Oh, goodie,” he smiles snarkily, “we’re on-brand this morning.”
Remus drops his head onto the table. “That was my last piece of toast.”
~
They do go down to the river later. Lily borrows a pair of shorts from Sirius and nicks one of Remus’ ratty t-shirts. She’s sufficiently dressed like a boy on their walk through the property. The grass seems greener in Godric’s Hollow than Norwich, the trees seem fuller, the sky seems bluer.
She’s sad about her mum and sister, of course, but it all seemed like it was coming eventually. Lily is the fuck up. That’s just how it is. She picks a dandelion flower from beside the walkway and sticks it in Remus’ hair. Sirius and James are walking ahead, roughhousing with each other, racing and things.
“Ugh, Lily,” Remus takes it out of his hair and looks at it.
“No, it’s so pretty.” Lily replaces it. “It makes you look soft. Cute.”
Remus rolls his eyes and keeps walking. “I’ll leave it in if you tell me why you’re here.”
“Got in a fight with my mum and Petunia,” she says. “They told me, essentially, that their lives are easier when I’m not in them. So, I left.”
“Damn. That’s rough.”
Lily laughs. “It’s alright. I’ve had my cry and my breakdown.”
“You can talk to me, you know. Anything you need at all.”
“I know.” She pats his arm. “You’re a good friend.”
He looks down at her, barely smiling. Remus doesn’t like to smile very often. It ruins his rough persona that is completely a facade. “Permission to call Petunia a bitch in your presence now?”
“Permission granted.”
“Bitch.”
Lily throws her head back and cackles. “Bitch,” she says. “Cold-hearted fucking bitch. I’m glad to be rid of her.”
Remus gives her a look, seeing right through her. Lily ignores this. As she said, she’s had her cry and her breakdown. More tears can come at a later date when they’re more welcome. At the moment, she’d rather just spend time with her friends.
They walk on a muddy path through a small stretch of forest. James and Sirius jump on each other like dogs, trying to push each other down. Lily holds her sandals by a curled finger, going barefoot in the mud to save her shoes. She’ll have to check for ticks later, Lord knows this forest is crawling with them.
“Won’t the river be high?” She says. “It rained a lot last night.”
“It’ll be fine,” James assures her. “There’s not much of a current in it or anything.”
“You swim in the river?”
“What else would we do in it?” Sirius says. “Nice flower, Moony.”
“Nice nose, dipshit, wanna keep it?”
Sirius turns around and grumbles, “I was just trying to be nice.”
The river is high, but it’s more of a creek, so the boys can still climb down from the shore, wading into the water up to their chests, bare. Lily puts her feet in, but that’s it. She watches James, though it mortifies her to admit. She’s seen James shirtless before. He’s a jock type, and thus has little to do with shirts when the weather gets warm. He practices quidditch shirtless and likes to take off his shirt while drunk. Lily is often in the boy dorms to study with Remus, and it seems like James and Sirius have a strict no-shirt policy because she has never once seen them adequately dressed in that room.
It never really bothered her until now. James is toned. He’s got biceps and abs and he wears a golden chain with a pendant on it, usually hidden under his shirt. His board shorts are low on his hips, and there’s dark hair below his belly button that goes under his shorts. He doesn’t wear his glasses in the water in fear of losing them. His eyes look bigger without the glass obstructing them. He’s truly a sight to behold.
Remus is trying to catch a fish, standing in a shallow point on the other side of the creek and diving his fist into the water whenever one passes. James and Sirius are wrestling, trying to push each other underwater. Lily watches, so incredibly fond of these boys.
“Oi, Evans,” James calls. “Come and give me a hand, eh?”
“You look like you’ve got it under control!”
“He doesn’t!” Sirius jumps on James from behind, successfully dunking him.
James comes up spluttering, blinking rapidly. He turns on Sirius and continues their wrestling match.
“Fish!” Remus shouts. “Fish!” He holds his prize up in one hand, a type of small catfish. There’s a genuine smile on his face, teeth shining and dimple showing. Lily wishes Sirius would look up from James for one moment to see this – see a moment in which Remus isn’t troubled. Look at how happy he is! She wants to shout. This should be how he is all the time!
“Well done, Remus!”
He grins triumphantly, then kisses the fish and throws it back into the river. This boy is so pure, so beautiful and wonderfully pure. There’s a tattoo on the inside of his bicep. Five X’s and a registry number to notify everyone around him that he is a werewolf and he is dangerous.
It’s hard to think that a boy like Remus could be dangerous. He kisses fish and returns them to the river. He loves delicately. He doesn’t smile often, but when he does, it’s beautiful and bright. He’s been dealt a shit hand, but he still manages to hope.
Lily feels like crying, overwhelmed with love for these boys. She climbs back onto the shore and sits on the rocks, knees curled to her chest, watching as Remus joins the wrestling match, throwing in a new player and energizing it once again. He won’t win, but he’ll play for the fun of it. All that’s missing is Peter. The group never feels quite complete without him.
Lily ends up zoning out, she doesn’t know for how long. The sun is hot on her shoulders and she gets lost in her thoughts. She breaks out of them when James sits heavily beside her, soaking wet.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Where’d you learn that phrase?” Lily says. She picks up a rock to keep her occupied.
“I watch the telly.”
“That surprises me.”
“Oh, does it?”
“Do you own a telly, James?”
“Remus does.”
Lily smiles. “I’ll take a galleon if you want my thoughts.”
“It’s really just a saying.” James stretches his legs out and leans back on his hands, head turned to watch Lily while she watches Remus and Sirius. They’re trying to catch more fish.
“I don’t see why we shouldn’t apply meaning to sayings,” Lily muses. “Maybe you really should bite a bullet?”
“What?”
“Nevermind.”
Sirius pushes Remus, and he falls with a loud shout, then grabs Sirius’ ankle so that he falls as well. Both on the river floor, they hug each other, obviously thinking that nobody is watching. Remus pushes Sirius’ hair out of his face and toys with his silver earring. They stare at each other like they’ve forgotten where they are.
“Do you think they’re in love?” James asks, now watching Remus and Sirius.
“I dunno. Can you ever really tell?”
“I can,” James says. “With my parents at least. I know what love looks like.”
Lily hums.
“I think they’re in love,” he continues. “It’s in the way they look at each other like they’re the only ones in the room. Honestly, whenever I’m with Sirius and Remus walks in, I might as well not exist. They always sneak off. They fight and make up. They’re so fond of each other it makes me want to cry. I think love for them is a bit rougher than others. Sometimes I wonder if they fight more than they make up, but we don’t see them in the private moments. Love for them is unique and beautiful. I see it.”
“I don’t,” Lily whispers, chin on her knee.
“Hmm?”
“I don’t know what love looks like,” she specifies, still whispering. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”
“What do you mean?” James asks, genuinely confused. He can’t be blamed for being raised by the best people in the world.
“My family doesn’t love each other. We tolerate each other. Maybe my mum and dad loved each other, but I never saw it. And Petunia and her posh boyfriend don’t love each other, she likes him because he has money and he likes her because she’s fit. And whoever I love doesn’t matter because I can’t see it.”
“Do you love your family?”
“Desperately,” she admits. “I wish that they would love me back, but I’m so sick of feeling like I’m unworthy of their love. I can’t do it anymore.”
“That’s understandable.”
“I don’t want to ask if of you, but–”
“Stay,” James says, reading her thoughts. “Stay all summer. Stay for the winter holiday. Stay forever. We love you here, you’ve got to know that.”
“It’s just so sudden,” Lily says thickly, tears in her eyes. She doesn’t want to cry. Not again. “One argument with my mum and I run away?”
“Was it really just one argument, though?”
“No. I suppose not.”
James nods. He looks back to Lily. He’s not wearing his glasses, so she can’t be much more than a blob. “Is the fact that I want you to stay a viable argument?”
“Yeah. It is.” She can’t bring herself to look at him. Not when her heart is in such a precarious position. “I want to go home tonight, though. Just to get my things and explain to Mum and Tuney.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Will you come?” Lily asks him.
“Of course. Anything,” he replies. “Should we all come?”
“Yeah, I think. It’ll be good.”
~
After the river, they all tidy up and make themselves lunch. The Potter’s don’t have a house elf – they had one that died a few years back, and never got another one. Lily’s glad. The whole business of owning a coherent thing doesn’t make her very comfortable. Remus and Sirius go up to ‘nap’, and Lily nicks a book from the library and reads while James heads outside to practice quidditch.
Mr. and Mrs. Potter come home eventually within five minutes of each other, and they set out to work on dinner. Lily continues reading, and James comes in from quidditch and goes upstairs to shower, by which time Remus and Sirius are making their way downstairs, joining Lily on the sofa while they relay to her the events of the summer so far.
Sirius lives at the Potter’s full time after being disowned by his family last summer, and Remus is visiting for the week. He’ll have to go back home for the moon, but he typically tries to spend most of his time at the Potter’s over the summer. Peter finds it hard to get away for the summer. He has two little step-brothers that he’s generally put in charge of whenever on holiday, so he can’t come over unless his mom and step-dad are home. He comes on the weekends.
The Potter house seems to be a hot ground for the war as well, getting visitors as lowly from new Order of the Phoenix members all the way to Dumbledore himself. The vents are useful when trying to figure out what’s going on, and the news is rarely good. The deaths mount by the day, and at this point, the war seems unwinnable.
They eat dinner together. Sirius tells Mr. and Mrs. Potter about the river, calling them ‘mum and dad’. Remus informs them that he’ll be staying an extra two days. James nudges Lily’s foot with his own, and she waits for a break in conversation to say, “I was wondering if I might stay for a while, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. I’m going back home tonight to see my mum and my sister, but if it doesn’t go well, I thought I could come back.”
“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Potter says. “We already thought you were staying. There’s a bed made up for you upstairs now. Your name is on the plaque.”
Lily wants to cry all over again. “Thank you.”
~
Lily apparates into the forest behind her house in Norwich with the entire Potter clan plus Remus beside her. It’s warmly lit, this tiny house, but run down. Her father used to do most of the gardening before he fell ill. She blushes to think about what James and his parents must think of the house. It’s nothing like the Manor, and it is so clearly devoid of love.
“‘Round the front, then,” Lily says after catching her bearings, breathless from the amount of distance traveled in under a second. Mr. and Mrs. Potter appear completely normal while Lily and the three boys can hardly stay upright.
They go to the front of the house. Every house on the block is exactly the same, constructed some time in the sixties, new builds that fall apart like they were made of cardboard. Lily marches right up to her front door while everyone else waits behind her, standing in the overgrown walkway.
It only takes a moment for someone to open the door. Petunia. Lily doesn’t know who she was hoping for. Maybe she didn’t want anyone to be home at all.
“I’m here to gather my things,” Lily says, forgoing a hello. Sisters don’t need to do that sort of thing.
“Right,” Petunia says coldly. “Who’s this lot with you, then?”
“This lot is more of a family to me than you ever were,” Lily shoots back. “Let us in.”
Petunia rolls her eyes and steps back from the door. Lily motions for everyone to follow her inside. Her house smells like paint even though it hasn’t had a fresh paint in years, and some of her mother’s vanilla candles. Someone must have made pasta for dinner tonight. It smells like that too.
Her mother is in the living room, Maura. She’s sitting on the sofa in front of the telly, alarmed at Lily’s large party entering her unclean house.
“I’m moving out for the summer,” Lily tells her mum. “Not that you’d care much. I’m headed upstairs to get my things.”
“Alright.” Maura stands.
“This is Effie and Fleamont Potter,” she introduces. “They’ve been ever so kind in allowing me to stay with them. And then these are their sons James and Sirius, and our friend Remus. You’ve met Remus.”
“We’re so excited to have Lily with us this summer,” Mrs. Potter says, nudging Mr. Potter, who is rather enthralled by the telly. “She’s a delight.”
Petunia scoffs, “That’s one word for her.”
“She’s very welcome at our house,” Mr. Potter says pointedly.
Maura gives a confused look to Sirius, who is a very different color from James, but Lily refuses to explain their brotherhood. It’s nobody's business but theirs.
“Are you all… wizards as well?” Maura asks, like the words are heavy on her tongue.
“Yes, we are,” Mr. Potter says, “but you see, I’m very interested in muggle – that’s what we call non-wizards – contraptions. You wouldn’t mind…”
Lily doesn’t catch the rest of his request. She jerks her head at the boys and leads them upstairs and into her room. It’s painted a pale yellow. Petunia’s room is pink. Petunia was the “pink” sister when they were younger, and never let Lily wear anything in that shade. Lily was strictly to wear yellow or green because it suited her hair better. When being sorted, Lily prayed that she wouldn’t be in Gryffindor because the red on the uniform clashed with her hair. For the first few years of Hogwarts, she was terribly insecure, but since then it’s become a bit of a spiteful thing. Lily wears pink and red at any chance she gets now, ginger head be damned, Petunia be damned.
“Nice room, ginge,” Sirius says, picking up a princess figurine. Lily never updated her room since childhood, given that she spent so little time in it.
“Thanks,” Lily replies, not having the energy to be spiteful. She pulls her wand out of her waistband and opens her trunk, casting a lazy expansion charm.
“It’s nice,” James says belatedly, hands on his hips, looking around like he can’t believe his luck.
Lily opens a dresser drawer and begins throwing things into her trunk. Bras, underwear, shorts, socks, t-shirts, bikinis. To be safe, she puts in sweatshirts, jeans, trousers, basically anything she finds.
“Aren’t you going to fold anything?” James asks, a bit alarmed.
“When steaming charms exist?” Lily says, “Not a chance. It’ll be fine.”
“Careful, Evans.” Sirius throws himself on her bed. “James thinks not folding things will send you to hell.”
“I don’t believe in hell,” he argues.
“James folds my socks,” Remus says. “My socks.”
“Then you can fold my things, if it’ll save you a conniption,” Lily offers.
“I will. Don’t even joke about folding. I’ll cry.”
Lily laughs. She is moving out of her childhood home, probably for good, and she is laughing.
All packed up, she leaves the boys to carry her trunk for her and heads back downstairs.
Mr. and Mrs. Potter, Sirius, and Remus disapparate before Lily, giving her a few moments alone with her family to say goodbye. James refuses to leave. He stands on their lawn and looks up at the sky, pretending not to listen.
“Well, bye,” Lily says, pulling out her wand. Her mum and her sister are in the doorway. She’s on the front step. Inside and out. Connection to the muggle world. Her childhood house, this place that has had so few moments of happiness, but the short bursts of it were brighter than anything she had ever seen.
“Bye, Lily,” her mum says. “I hope you have a good summer.”
“You too.” Pasta. Tomatoes. Petunia’s perfume. Paper. Television static. Norwich. Home.
Lily stands at the doorstep. She waits for something to happen. For her mum to change her mind, for Petunia to tell Lily that she loves her, for them to say something. Anything. Lily is not yet eighteen and she’s leaving home, maybe for good, and there’s nothing else her mother can tell her to do other than have a good summer.
“I’ll write,” Lily says.
“There’s no need,” Petunia says.
Lily scoffs. “You know what you are, Petunia? You’re a right bitch.”
“Lily!” Maura exclaims.
“No, no.” Lily backs up, down the front stairs. “Fuck this. Fuck this.” She turns around and keeps walking. James is hot on her heels, saying nothing, just following. Distantly, the door slams.
Lily walks. Here is the park her dad used to take her and Petunia to on his days off. Here is the trail to the pond. Here is where she met Severus. Here is where she learned what magic is. Here is the Moran house with the girls she used to babysit. Here is her hometown that was supposed to be safe and loving but never was unless she was with her dad or Severus, a boy who hated what she was, but not who she was.
What happened to women? What happened to sisterhood? All Lily wanted was to be loved. That’s all she asked of her family.
She turns around abruptly and flings herself into James’ arms. They’re in the middle of the street. Lily doesn’t care. If death takes them young, it’ll take them together.
“Oh, Lily,” James says, lowering them to the ground. His hand is rubbing her back, holding her tight, head against his chest. “Lily, Lily, Lily.”
She sobs into his chest. She’s ready to be done with crying. She’s ready to be over it. Here is this hot pavement that she used to run on in her play clothes, hand in hand with Severus. Before that, it was Petunia. Before magic, before everything. When Petunia showed Lily how to make flower headbands and bracelets, how to find four-leaf clovers, how to swing without getting a push. When they were sisters.
Sometimes, Lily resents the magical part of herself, the part that tore her family apart. If only she could just be normal.
“Lily,” James whispers, rocking her back and forth. He lays a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Lily, let's go home. Let’s go home.”