Chapter Text
It was a hot and muggy August evening in Cokeworth, and Lily Evans had lost her good trainers.
‘Petuuuuuniaaaa!’ she called. ‘Have you seen my trainers? The blue ones with the yellow stripe?’
No response. Lily sighed. She didn’t have time for this—she needed to pack.
She marched across the hall and threw open her sister’s bedroom door. ‘Tuney, I wanted to know—oh!’
Petunia was lying on her bed, blonde hair disheveled and face a delicate pink. Beside her lay a boy Lily had never seen before. He was tall and broad—exactly Tuney’s type. But he was not Tuney’s boyfriend.
‘Tell Mummy and Daddy, andI’ll sell your trainers,’ she hissed. ‘Along with the rest of your clothes.’
‘But what about Paul? I thought—’
‘We broke up! Ages ago! Now get! Out!’
Petunia got up and slammed the door in Lily’s face. Behind it, Lily could hear her sister murmuring apologies to not-Paul, followed by some quite disgusting wet noises. She shuddered.
Over the summer, the two of them had reached an uneasy truce. Lily bought Petunia replacement glass animals as soon as she saved up enough money from babysitting, and Petunia didn’t call her a freak anymore. But they weren’t friends. Clearly—Tuney hadn’t even told her she’d broken up with her boyfriend.
Not that Lily minded all that much. Most of the time. She had plenty of other friends.
She had spent the summer wandering around town with Severus, going to the ice cream parlour and the cinema and the park. They’d done their homework together in the cool of the Evans’ kitchen, reading about witch burnings and Swelling Solutions and writing an essay on the best sort of animal to turn into a pocket watch.
She’d received letters regularly from Remus Lupin, so many that her mother had asked her delicately one night at dinner if he wasn’t ‘a special sort of friend’. Petunia had laughed at her then, and Lily had yelled. It had been one of their few outright fights.
She’d also received a singular package from James Potter, containing the books she’d inadvertently lent him and an extremely chipper letter detailing all his many thoughts. She hadn’t replied.
In July, she and Mary had visited Dorcas in her family’s cottage in a village by the sea, which was lovely and cluttered and whimsical and exactly the sort of house Lily had imagined a family of wizards would live in. And then in the beginning of August, they’d come to Cokeworth for a week of staying up late into the night giggling about Marc Bolan and David Cassidy, reading Muggle and wizard magazines and dancing to records with feather boas around their necks.
Dorcas would be back again the very next morning. Her mother was taking Lily, Dorcas, and Dorcas’s older brother to London a night early, where they were going to go shopping in Diagon Alley and stay at Mary’s house before leaving on the Hogwarts Express. Lily’s parents had been grateful to accept her offer; it was a long drive, and very much out of their way, whereas Dorcas’s witch mother could get them there in a matter of minutes.
But first, Lily needed to find her trainers.
‘Have you tried looking under the sofa, dear?’ her mother’s voice drifted up the stairs.
‘Yes, Mum! I’ve looked all over!’
‘Did you leave them at Severus’s house? You got them wet in the river with him last weekend, remember?’
Drat. That was exactly where they were.
Lily raced down the stairs, pulling on her sandals. ‘Yeah, that’s it, Mum—I’ll go get them now, I’ll be right back!’
And she let the door bang shut behind her without waiting for a response.
Outside, the sun was just disappearing beyond the horizon, leaving the clouds and pillars of smoke from the factories streaked vibrant orange and pink. It had rained that afternoon, and the air was thick and heavy. Lily hopped on her bicycle—normally she didn’t take it to Sev’s house, because he didn’t have one and she didn’t want to be rude, but he lived all the way across town and she needed to be fast.
She pedalled down the empty streets, making sure to ride right through the middle of all the biggest puddles so her tires would make those rippling splashes. She passed her old primary school, and the playground where she liked to go and grow flowers, and the run-down hotel, and the public swimming pool, a few stragglers just emerging wrapped in towels and carrying caps and goggles.
Severus’s house was down by the river, one of a maze of identical brick dwellings. Lily had never had trouble finding his—even if it hadn’t been right on the end of a row, she’d been there so many times by now she could picture the chips in the paint around the doorknob in her sleep. She screeched to a stop, dropped her bike in the dirt and skipped to the little concrete pad, where she rang the bell.
Mrs Snape answered her. She had the same long, pale face and black hair as Severus did, and she always looked very tired. She did not invite Lily in, but instead sighed, and called behind her.
‘Sev’rus, ‘s for you!’
There was a tumble of feet on stairs, and Severus’s face appeared in the door, brow immediately unwrinkling when he saw her.
‘Hi, Lily!’ he said. ‘Why’re you here so late?’
‘I think I left my trainers,’ she explained. ‘The blue ones with the yellow stripes?’
‘Oh, yes—they’re right here, one moment.’ He shut the door and reappeared seconds later, missing trainers in hand. ‘Are you packing?’
‘Yeah, Dorcas is coming pretty early tomorrow morning—so I can’t stay long, I ought to get to bed.’
‘Do you want me to walk back with you? It’s getting dark.’ Severus eyed the sky distrustingly.
Lily shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I brought my bike. See you on the train?’
He nodded eagerly. ‘Yes—see you! I’m excited for school!’
‘Me too!’ She smiled at him. ‘Anyways, I’ve got to run—but hang in there, just thirty-six more hours!’
‘Thirty-six more hours,’ he repeated, somewhat wearily. ‘Goodnight, Lily!’
‘Night, Sev!’ she called over her shoulder, pedalling away.
At eight o’clock sharp the next morning, there was a knock on the front door. Lily threw it open, and almost immediately was crushed by the long, thin form of Dorcas Meadowes, beaded braids swinging wildly against her back.
‘Lily! Oh, how long it’s been,’ she moaned. ‘You must save me from the clutches of male impudicity.’
‘Dorcas, it’s been a month,’ Lily laughed. She waved over her shoulder at Dorcas-but-a-boy and Dorcas-but-older, standing in the doorway. ‘Hi, Eden! Hi, Mrs Meadowes.’
‘Hi, Lily,’ Eden said, giving her a wink. ‘Is that your sister I saw out in the garden?’
Lily nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s Petunia.’
‘Mind giving us an introduction? Only, I love blondes—’
‘Eden!’ Mrs Meadowes reprimanded him. ‘I can assure you, Lily, he knows better than that—I’ve no idea what’s gotten into him.’
‘It’s alright, Mrs Meadowes. Tuney has—er, someone she’s seeing, anyway,’ she said to Eden, who clicked his tongue in disappointment.
Lily’s mother had appeared from out of the kitchen, brushing powdered sugar off on her sunflower apron.
‘Dana! Lovely to see you again,’ she said, leaning forward to hug Mrs Meadowes. ‘Would you care for a spot of French toast? I’ve just put some in for Tuney, and there’s plenty extra.’
Mrs Meadowes shook her head. ‘Sorry to say I can’t—got to get these three to London, and then it’s off to work. Lots to do these days, I’m afraid.’
Mrs Meadowes was an Auror. She worked for the government, catching Dark wizards. Dorcas always made it sound very glamorous, but Lily privately thought it seemed a little scary. The most dangerous thing her own mother did was trim the hedges once a month, and that was how she liked it.
‘Of course, I understand,’ said Lily’s mother, even though she didn’t. Lily hadn’t told her a thing about Dark wizards. ‘Well, thank you again for taking Lily. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate it.’
‘Not a problem, not a problem at all! It’s right on the way. Now, we must be off. Girls, take my right arm—Eden, the left, there you go. Hold your breath, Lily, and grab your trunk—good day, Rose.’
Lily barely had time to say a hurried ‘bye, Mum!’ before she was hurtling through darkness, her entire body stretching and twisting and squeezing as though through an impossibly skinny tube. It was an awful feeling. But when she opened her eyes again, she was no longer in her sitting room. Instead, she was standing in front of a tall, white-and-yellow-brick townhouse, from whose front door Mary MacDonald was waving so hard Lily thought her arm might fly right off.
‘Hi!’ she squealed. ‘Welcome to London—that was amazing, Mrs Meadowes! How did you do that?’
‘Side-Along Apparition,’ Mrs Meadowes replied. ‘You’ll learn it when you’re older.’
She wrapped her two children in a stiff-armed hug. ‘You have a good year, now. And Eden—behave! I don’t want any letters home this term, you hear me? None.’
And just like that, she was gone again.
‘Wow, your mum was in a hurry today, Dorcas,’ Lily said, as they carried their trunks up Mary’s veryfancy front steps.
‘Yeah, she has been lately,’ Dorcas replied. ‘Lots of Dark activity going on right now.’
‘She made two arrests yesterday, but I heard they let them both off,’ Eden said, with a long-suffering air. He was a Ravenclaw fourth year, and had heard rather a lot of things. ‘Bloody Ministry crackpots—don’t have a clue what they’re doing.’
‘And you do?’ Dorcas scoffed.
‘Shut up, Dor, you’re the one always asking me for info.’
‘Oh, like you’re not pissing yourself trying to give it away—’
They bickered all the way to Mary’s room, on the fifth floor of the house. It was large and white, with baby blue carpeting and two neat little rollaway beds under the windows. Eden had a guest suite to himself, but the girls had all wanted to share—it was more fun that way.
‘Do you like it?’ Mary asked nervously. ‘I tried to make everything nice for your visit, but Maman and Papa are in France so it’s just me and Charlie and Jocelyne here this week.’
Charlie was Mary’s seven-year-old brother. Jocelyne was their live-in housekeeper. She was very professional, very chic, and very discreet.
‘It’s positively grand, Mary!’ Lily exclaimed, bouncing a bit on her bed. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house this big in my life.’
‘Yeah, this is excellent,’ Dorcas said. ‘What do you even do with all this space?’
‘Well, I could show you, if you like!’ Mary offered. ‘Tour?’
‘Oooh, yes!’ Lily jumped to her feet. This was difficult, as the mattress really was very soft.
In all, Mary’s house had eight floors, if you included the attic—this was where Jocelyne lived—and the basement, which was taken up almost entirely by a gleaming kitchen. They spent the morning there, playing board games from the MacDonalds’ library on the enormous wooden table while Jocelyne baked them batch after batch of chocolate chip cookies and Charlie, who had recently begun exhibiting signs of magic, showed them all how he could make the drawings he’d done of them dance. The cookies were served on silver platters and Charlie’s crayons were some ridiculous German-sounding brand Lily had never heard of, and it all felt extremely posh—even though she knew perfectly well that she could have done the same exact things back in Cokeworth.
That afternoon, Jocelyne walked them to the Leaky Cauldron. She didn’t come inside. Lily was surprised she was so willing to leave four underage students at a pub, but Mary said she had been instructed by her parents not to ask any questions, and assured them she would be waiting in the record shop next door when they returned.
Lily and Mary had each been to Diagon Alley once before, to get their school supplies the previous summer. On those occasions, however, they had been chaperoned by Hogwarts professors, and only allowed to go to the necessary shops—and frankly, it had all been such a whirlwind Lily had nearly forgotten everything that had happened anyway. So she and Mary were both very excited to be here by themselves, as real, proper witches, free to explore as much as they liked.
They watched with bated breath as Eden took out his wand and tapped the bricks in the back yard of the Leaky Cauldron just so, and the bricks rearranged themselves into an archway.
‘Oh, wow!’ Mary breathed.
Beyond them stretched a long, cobbled street, twisting and turning so that Lily couldn’t make out the end. It was lined on either side with a colourful assortment of shops and restaurants, selling everything from solid gold cauldrons to broomsticks to owls. And it was absolutely packed with Hogwarts students, all doing their last-minute school shopping.
‘Look at that, Lily! It’s a real crystal ball!’ Mary moved towards one of the shops, outside of which stood a glassy orb on a pedestal.
‘Not so fast, Mary,’ Dorcas said. ‘We’ve got to get your money changed first, remember?’
Eden was looking over their heads, out at the crowd. ‘Dor, I think I see Quinn and Pandy—I’m going to go say hi, I’ll see you lot later.’
‘Eden! Mum said to stay together!’ she shouted at his retreating back. But he was already gone. ‘Bugger. Well—neither of you two better wander off!’
‘I won’t, Dorcas, don’t worry!’ Lily said. She had no desire to leave Dorcas’s sight—she’d never find her again in this mess. ‘Better watch Mary, though.’
For her small, curly head had started drifting once more towards the crystal ball. Dorcas caught her arm.
‘Come on, you,’ she said. ‘Let’s go to the bank. Then you can buy your stupid ball.’
Lily hadn’t been to the bank last year, having received a stipend direct from the school, so already she was setting out into uncharted territory. It was called Gringotts, and it was the most beautiful building she had ever seen. Tall and made entirely of white marble, it was staffed by goblins—she had just been reading about them in her textbook!—and featured several grisly warning signs about what would happen to thieves, though Lily wasn’t certain how literally they were meant.
Dorcas helped them exchange their Muggle money for little sacks of gold, silver, and bronze coins: galleons, sickles, and knuts. Just carrying them around was thrilling enough—like Lily was a character in some sort of adventure novel (though she was much too embarrassed to say so to Dorcas).
On their way out of Gringotts, they heard a shout in the distance.
‘Oi! Evans!’
Lily groaned. She knew that voice.
James Potter was pushing towards them, arms laden down with bags and an exhausted-looking Peter Pettigrew in tow. Over the summer, he appeared to have acquired glasses, which were small and ovular and made his head look even longer than his absurd hairstyle already did. Lily would not have picked that shape.
‘Evans—Meadowes—MacDonald,’ Potter said cheerfully as he reached them. ‘Good summer?’
‘Eight out of ten,’ Dorcas replied. ‘Nice specs.’
‘Thanks, they’re new.’
‘Yes, we can see that,’ Lily said drily. ‘Hello, Peter.’
‘Hi, Lily!’ Peter said. He was the only boy in their year besides Remus and Sev who called her Lily instead of Evans, which she appreciated. ‘You doing your shopping today, too?’
‘Just getting started,’ Mary said. ‘Can we please go back to the crystal ball first, Dorcas?’
‘Crystal ball?’
‘Yeah, it’s over by the entrance,’ Dorcas said. ‘Sure, Mary, let’s go.’
‘Potter, where are your parents?’ Lily asked as they began walking.
‘Oh, they’re around here somewhere, I expect.’ He craned his neck to look. ‘They were having a drink with Pete’s mum and step-dad last we saw them. Do you need help finding anything? I know my way around very well, you know.’
‘I’ve got Dorcas for that. Have you seen Remus?’
‘No, he said he wasn’t coming to Diagon Alley this year. Something about his mum being too ill to make the trip—I guess he’s just ordering all his stuff.’
Really? Lily was surprised. The full moon had been a whole week ago. But then again, maybe his mother really was ill this time.
‘Well, that’s a shame. He’s excellent company.’
‘Hey, I’m not so bad!’ Potter protested. ‘I can talk about literature and school and smart things too, you know. Speaking of, did you get my letter?’
‘I did.’ Then, because she felt she had to, she added, ‘Thank you for taking good care of my books. I’m glad you liked them so much.’
‘I loved them! I mean, the way Muggles use magic—it’s just so creative! Like the fog thing in Earthsea, that’s so simple, much better and easier than invisibility spells, and it’d make a great prank, too—or not,’ he amended, for Lily had scoffed rather loudly. ‘Have you got any more?’
‘Well,’ she said hesitantly. ‘I think that was all my fantasy and science fiction, but I did bring a few more regular ones with me, if you wanted to try those…’
Lily—somehow—managed to carry on a conversation about books with Potter all the way back to the divination shop by the entrance, where Mary went to inspect the crystal ball. It turned out to be much too expensive even for her deep pockets, however, and she was forced to leave it there, with the intention of putting it on her Christmas list instead.
Next they stopped at Flourish and Blotts to buy their books, the Apothecary to stock up on potion ingredients, and Quality Quidditch Supplies because Potter wanted to, and of course Potter got what he wanted.
‘Have you got a broom already, James?’ Mary asked, admiring a sleek black model on display by the door. ‘You’re trying out for the team this year, aren’t you?’
‘Have I got a broom?’ Potter exclaimed. ‘I’ve only got the best broom in the world, that’s what I’ve got—that one right there.’
He pointed to the window, where a gleaming mahogany broomstick was hovering in midair. The label Nimbus 1001 was written on the handle in gold. Lily didn’t know much about broomsticks, so she couldn’t judge its quality, but it did look very shiny and new.
‘His father got it for him for Christmas, six months before they even released it!’ Peter piped up.
Lily turned to stare at Potter. ‘What, does your family own the company or something?’
‘Not that company, no,’ Potter said, looking a bit sheepish. ‘But—well, we do own Sleekeazy’s.’
‘What’s Sleekeazy’s?’ Mary asked.
‘It’s a cosmetic company. They make hair stuff,’ Dorcas answered, before Potter could. ‘Merlin, I can’t believe we haven’t talked about this yet—yeah, the Potters are loaded. Like, it’s disgusting how much money they have, with that and all their ancient family gold. No offence.’
Potter shrugged and grinned, as if to say none taken.
Lily gaped at him. She’d already known about Black, of course, but were all the purebloods filthy rich? Or, no—she supposed that couldn’t be true, because Dorcas didn’t seem to be, and neither did Peter or Marlene. So it was just coincidence, then, that she seemed to have somehow become acquaintances with not one, but two heirs to the equivalent of wizard nobility.
This explained rather a lot.
They finally ditched the boys around suppertime, when their parents materialised to take them home. The girls would be having dinner in the Leaky Cauldron, because Mary and Lily wanted to, even though Dorcas claimed it wasn’t very good. They couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to eat in the most famous wizarding establishment in London.
‘I’d go with the shepherd’s pie,’ Dorcas advised them. ‘It’s the most reliable. Oh—and we should get some butterbeer, I forgot you haven’t tried that yet!’
Butterbeer turned out to essentially be vanilla hot cocoa in a bottle. Mary loved it, but it wasn’t to Lily’s liking—she found it a bit rich. Dorcas found this sacrilegious.
Eden met them at their table, which was fortunate, because none of them had any idea where he’d gone, and they were supposed to rendezvous with Jocelyne at six. Dorcas greeted him with a punch in the arm.
‘Wanker! Where have you been?’
‘Knockturn Alley,’ he answered. ‘Quinn and Pandy wanted to buy some vampire leather for potions. Don’t tell Mum.’
Dorcas was looking murderous. ‘Fine. But you owe me. Hope you ate.’
‘What’s Knockturn Alley?’ Lily asked, as they made their way back out into Muggle London.
‘It’s just another side street, you can get to it by going through Diagon Alley,’ Dorcas replied. ‘But our mum doesn’t like us to go there ‘cause that’s where Dark creatures hang out, so it’s sort of dangerous. You know, vampires, werewolves, hags—and Death Eaters, lately.’
‘Death Eaters?’
Dorcas gave her a meaningful look. ‘Voldemort’s lot.’
Lily felt herself shiver, despite the warm summer air. Voldemort. She hadn’t heard that name in many months. And she hadn’t known he had enough followers for them to have a stupid little gang name.
‘Oh, let’s not talk about that right now,’ Mary said, a bit wearily. ‘I’ve been reading about him in the Prophet all summer. Let’s just have a nice last night of the holidays.’
‘You’ve been getting the Prophet?’ Lily was impressed. She certainly hadn’t been having it delivered—she’d been treating the summer as a bit of a break from wizarding culture.
‘Yes, my parents thought I should,’ Mary said. ‘They’ve been reading it, too, since Christmas—my mother’s really smart, she likes that sort of thing. Probably understands most of it better than I do.’ She laughed.
‘Oh, yeah, I remember—our mum was the one who set them up with it, wasn’t she?’ Eden asked. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a Muggle getting the Prophet before—not even our gran, and her whole living family’s magical.’
‘Like I said, she’s really smart,’ Mary said. She sounded pleased. ‘That’s why they’re in France this week. She wrote a book last year, and she’s giving a presentation on it at her old university.’
‘Huh,’ said Eden. ‘What’s her name? Maybe I’ve heard of her, I follow Muggle academia sometimes.’
Behind his back, Dorcas rolled her eyes.
‘Paulette Renard is her published name,’ Mary answered. ‘It’s about Francophone colonial literature, it’s actually really groundbreaking, I can send you a copy if you like.’
‘Oh, he won’t really read it,’ Dorcas said scathingly. ‘He never does, he just carries things around for show, he thinks it makes him look cultured—’
‘That is not true! I do read them, I’d love to see your mum’s work, Mary—’
‘I think I see Jocelyne!’ Lily said loudly. She pointed to the record shop, where Jocelyne’s sleek bun was just visible beyond a large poster of Elton John.
‘They sure do argue a lot,’ Mary whispered anxiously, as they stood on the edge of the street moments later, waiting for Jocelyne to hail a cab.
‘Yeah, they do,’ Lily said, smiling.
She didn’t tell Mary how, just for a moment, she could’ve sworn Eden’s tall, dark form had morphed into a scowling, acid-tongued blonde.