Arranging Lives
by Irish_Rose

Rating: PG
Ship: Lily & James
Canon: Books 1 - 5
Genre: Humor, Romance
Status: In progress
Length: 3,012 words in 1 chapter
Published: 21 Jun 2004
Last updated: 21 Jun 2004

Harry wonders how his parents ended up together. Remus tells him a funny little story.

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/2377/

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1. Arranging Lives

ARRANGING LIVES by Irish_Rose

“An arranged marriage?”

Lily Evans sat at the small round table in her family's kitchen. Across the table, her mother was shredding a napkin
into tiny pieces of paper fluff with nervous hands. Beside her was her father, eyeing Lily nervously, wincing slightly
in the aftermath of her rage-filled outburst. Next to her father sat her sister Petunia, whose horse-like face was
contorted into an open-mouthed look of gleeful shock.

“What on earth do you mean, arranged marriage?!” Lily fumed.

Her mother opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted. Nigel Evans felt it was his duty, as head of the household,
to try to reign in his youngest daughter's fury.

“Lily-flower, please try to understand. We're trying our best to embrace your culture. It has been very difficult on
your mother and I, and your sister to come to terms with the fact that you're…well…different.” Beside him, Petunia made
a noise that sounded something like she was clearing her throat, but also suspiciously like the word `freak'. Lily
glared at Petunia before turning her angry frown back towards her parents.

“Lily, please. We really are trying. We went and met with that headmaster of yours, Bumblesomething…We asked him what we
could do to help you after you were done with your schooling. This was his suggestion!” Her mother pleaded, her voice
rising in desperation.

“Professor Dumbledore” - she enunciated pointedly - “suggested that you arrange for me to be married? That's how he
thinks you can be of the most assistance to me after I graduate from Hogwarts?” Mr. and Mrs. Evans cringed at the
mention of the school's name and the oddly calm manner their daughter's voice had adopted.

“Yes, Lily. He said it was `an age-old tradition', didn't he Nigel? Said that most…er…families arrange marriages for
their children, in your culture.” Her father nodded in accord.

Lily looked back and forth between her parents in utter amazement. In front of her mother on the table lay a soft pile
of shredded paper, her hands now wringing anxiously. Her father's face was pale and she let her gaze follow a bead of
sweat that started at his temple and tracked down his neck into the crisp white collar of his shirt. She couldn't
believe that Dumbledore would tell her parents - her muggle parents - something like that! They didn't know any better.
She just hoped they hadn't entered into any sort of agreement yet. Anxiety began to overtake her.

“Mum, dad, please tell me you didn't agree to anything. Please, tell me I can get out of this!” Her parents refused to
make eye contact with her. “No! You didn't! Please, mum, please tell me you didn't choose someone already!” Beside her,
Petunia sniggered quietly.

“Sweetheart, we thought it would be best to just choose while we were there. Professor Deedledum had a lovely young man
picked out already. He called him a `bright lad', and apparently he is quite well-off.” Lily bit her lip to prevent a
scream.

“Did you sign anything? Did he make you sign anything?!” She asked frantically.

Her father met her fiery gaze, and averted his eyes ashamedly. “Yes, dear…We signed a contract releasing you to the boy
as soon as you come of age.”

“WHAT?!”

Her mother let out a small frightened peep as Lily's angry yell reverberated through the small kitchen. Her father
cleared his throat nervously.

“Now, Lily. I'll have none of that unnecessary noise in my house. Your mother and I have done what we feel is best for
you and for your future. We have arranged to meet with the boy's family tomorrow morning. They will be arriving here
shortly after eleven.”

Lily spluttered furiously, “UNNECESSARY…BEST….TOMORROW!” Petunia let out a peal of malicious laughter. “NO!”

“I'm sorry, dear. Everything has already been decided,” her father declared.

“But - but - what on earth would any pure-blooded family, and I assume the family is pure-blooded, want with a
muggle-born like me?” Lily demanded. Her parents looked momentarily confused by the terms `pure-blood' and `muggle'.
Lily sighed.

“Ah, right. Yes. The family are pure…blooded. And Professor Humblebumble assured us that the family feels that
mixing…er…bloodlines…is the best option for their future.” Lily felt her face grow hot.

“FOR MERLIN'S SAKE THE MAN'S NAME IS DUMBLEDORE!”

“Yes, Lily, of course it is. Now stop your silly yelling and go clean your bedroom. No doubt your fiancé will want to
see it.” Lily let out a horrified squeak. She got up from the table in something of a daze, and turned to leave the
room. She stopped in her tracks, however, as something resembling realization dawned on her.

“Wait. Mum, who is he?” She asked slowly. Her mother raised her head.

“Who is who, dear?” Lily hit forehead with the palm of her hand.

“The boy, mum! The boy you've just legally bound me to? The boy I'm supposed to marry? Your bloody future SON-IN-LAW!”
She cried in exasperation, her voice rising.

“Lily, please. There's no need to curse,” replied her father. Lily ground her teeth together. Petunia watched the
exchange as if it were a ping-pong match. Her mother grinned in a way she though was mischievous, but was really just
plain creepy.

“You'll find out tomorrow, Lily-love! I know how much you love surprises!”

Lily gave a strangled cry of rage and stalked irately out of the room.

***

Lily worked long into the night, furiously scrubbing and polishing every surface of her bedroom, preparing it for
inspection by her new family. All the while, her mind wandered. She thought of all the boys at school that she thought
that Dumbledore might choose for her. There were the boys in Gryffindor house, but they were all prats. Surely
Dumbledore would have more sense than to promise her to some pure-blooded idiot like Sirius Black, or strange, eccentric
Arthur Weasley. There was that lovely bloke in Ravenclaw whose name she thought was Theodore Whaling, though that might
also have been the name of their Quidditch captain; Lily was never very good at remembering names. There were always the
Slytherins, but Dumbledore wasn't about to pair her with someone like Severus Snape or Walden MacNair, was he? Surely
not, she hoped. That left the Hufflepuffs. Was she doomed to spend the rest of her life as a Hufflepuff breeding
machine? It was then that Lily Evans started to cry. She curled herself into a ball under the neat bedclothes and sobbed
herself to sleep, where she dreamt she was surrounded by dozens of children clad in yellow and black.

***

Sixteen-year-old Lily Evans was quite sure life could not get any worse. She was standing in the drawing room, in a pink
dress that clashed horribly with her red hair, waiting for her fiancé to arrive. Now most sixteen-year-old girls, her
father pleaded with her, would be thrilled to find that her parents had arranged a marriage for her. It meant no having
to date, or flirt, or wear silly clothes to attract attention to them. Lily argued that she would be thrilled to find
that a large hole had appeared in the kitchen floor for her to throw herself into. Her mother clucked her tongue at her
daughter and set to the task of smoothing out the frilly pink skirt of the Worst Dress Ever.

“Lily dear, you look so pretty,” her mother exclaimed. In Lily's mind, the hole in the kitchen morphed into a manticore,
which proceeded to devour her entire family as well as the contract on which they had signed her life away.

Not too far away from the Evans family home, a frazzled witch and wizard were trying to convince their son to join them
in the fireplace. The boy sat on the couch opposite them and sulked prettily.

“Please, son. We're going to be late if we don't leave now. What sort of impression will this have on your fiancé?” His
mother pleaded from the other side of the brilliant green flames. The boy scowled.

“Who cares what she thinks! I don't even know her! Why would you arrange a marriage for me anyway?! Arranged marriages
are so passé!”

“Son, please. It was either this, or have you marry one of the girls from the Black line. And you know how inbred that
line is getting! I want to be sure that our Heir is going to be as normal as possible! The fact is, son, that there are
just not enough pure-blood witches left! It would do our line good to have a little variety.” His father explained.

“VARIETY? A bag of Bertie Botts Beans, dad. That's variety. Forcing me to marry some muggle-born bird is not variety,
dad. It's mental.” The boy ended his rant and returned to sulking.

“Professor Dumbledore says she's a lovely girl, son. Bright, clever, and near the top of your class!” his mother offered
lamely.

“Oh great…so she's a Ravenclaw too, on top of being a mudblood. Perfect. Besides, Professor Dumbledore's a loon.”

“THAT IS IT!” his father roared, stepping quickly out of the fire and grabbing his son by the collar of his robes. “I
WILL NOT HAVE YOU INSULTING ALBUS DUMBLEDORE IN THIS HOUSE!” He shoved the teen into the fire and followed after.

“Would you like to do the honours, Albert?”

“Of course, dear.” Albert Potter cleared his throat and spoke loud and clear, “EVANS RESIDENCE.”

***

Back inside the Evans house, a small puff of black soot had suddenly wisped out of the empty fireplace. Lily's eyes
widened.

“That's odd…I wonder what that was all about,” Nigel Evans said aloud, cocking his head to peer more closely at the
fireplace. He removed the grate. Lily ran into the kitchen as a cloud of ash spilled into the room, bringing with it two
wizards and a witch. The magic folk straightened themselves out and brushed the soot from their robes. Staring at them
in shock and horror were three muggles covered from head to toe in fine black powder. Rose Evans suppressed a muffled
sob.

Albert Potter strode towards the muggle man, offering a slightly dirty hand. Nigel Evans shook it, still slightly dazed
from the shock of seeing three grown people tumble out of his fireplace.

“Hello there, Mr. Evans! It is lovely to meet you finally. My name is Albert Potter; this is my lovely wife Emily, and
our son James.”

Nigel Evans shook the woman's hand as well as her son's in turn. He cleared his throat, choking slightly on the thin
layer of dust that now coated his lungs.

“Good morning, Albert. Welcome to our home.” Albert Potter smiled.

“Ah, and this must be young Lily, then, is it?” Beside her father, Petunia paled under her coating of ash.

“No! Of course not,” she cried indignantly. “As if I would ever marry your freak son!” She let out a wail and ran up the
stairs to her bedroom, leaving a trail of black footprints behind her. Nigel Evans cleared his throat again, his gaze
darting back and forth between the horrified Potters.

“Lily must have just gone into the kitchen. One moment please,” Rose Evans offered as graciously as she could muster.
She turned and hurried out of the room, through the swinging parlour doors that led to the small kitchen. Lily was
kneeling awkwardly on the counter, trying feverishly to unlatch a window.

“Lily-love, they're here. Come, now. We mustn't keep your fiancé waiting!” She sang lamely. Lily groaned and slid off
the counter. Her mother took her hand and more dragged than led her out of the room.

“Ah, yes! Here she is!” Nigel Evans announced.

Lily's eyes widened when she saw the young man standing in the middle of the soot-covered room, his bottle-green robes
streaked with dirt, his jet black hair even more messy than usual.

“Er…Hi, Evans,” James Potter offered, his face reddening, brown eyes hidden behind dusty glasses.

“NO!” Lily screamed. The adults all stepped back in alarm.

“What on earth is the matter with you, Lily?” her father chastised, looking panicked.

“I. WILL. NOT. MARRY. JAMES. POTTER.” Lily's face was a violent shade of purple. Mr. and Mrs. Potter looked scandalized.
James looked as though he wished he'd burned to death in the floo fire. Nigel Evans laughed nervously.

“The girl doesn't know what she's saying…ha-ha…she's just a little jittery, is all. Just a bit nervous at meeting her
future husband, isn't that right?” His laughter died on the tip of his tongue as he saw the glare of doom his daughter
had directed at him. Once she was sufficiently satisfied that her father would remain quiet, she turned the glare on
James and narrowed her eyes.

“You set this up, didn't you?” she spat accusingly. “Of all the stupid, idiotic, irresponsible things you've done in the
short time I've known you, James Potter, this has got to be the very worst! How did you do it, then? How did you
convince Dumbledore to tell my parents that arranging a marriage between the two of us would ever resemble anything
remotely like a good idea?! Did you hex him? No…of course not. You're not nearly smart enough for that. Bribery? I don't
think the old fool would be quite so stupid to accept a bribe from a student, let alone James Potter. Threats of
violence? With those skinny arms…who am I kidding? So how did you do it then, Potter? What did you do to get us into
this disaster?”

James fancied himself a patient man. He'd waited, sat idly by (and sometimes not so idly by) while the red-haired woman
standing across the room from him, shooting daggers with her eyes at him, blew him off time and time again. He'd tried
flattery. He'd tried arrogance. He'd tried boasting, he'd tried being nice, caring, sweet…he'd tried ignoring her, tried
to make her jealous. He thought he'd tried every trick in the book. But he had to hand it to Dumbledore. He'd never once
tried to force her to marry him. James Potter fancied himself a patient man, but his patience had all but run out.

“Listen, Evans. I had nothing to do with this. I didn't know until my father had already called out your name in the
floo that you were the girl I was being betrothed to. I'm not too keen on this whole being forcibly ushered into
marriage thing either, but since we really haven't got a choice, why not make the best of it, right? When I agreed to
this stupid idea I had at least entertained the choice that my future wife might at least like me, but I suppose I can
throw those plans out the window.” He replied, his voice ending on a note of exasperation. Lily opened her mouth to
speak, but James interrupted.

“I don't have the power to end this, Lily. Our parents signed a legal contract, no loopholes. But if I did have the
power, and I was able to break the oath, I'd do it, if it meant making you happy. I don't want to force you into
anything you don't want to do, Lily. I love you too much to see you miserable. Just looking at your face, how disgusted
you are at the idea of marrying me is hard to bear, but it would be nothing compared to having to live with that day
after day after day. But I don't have that power, Lily. None of us do. So I hope you'll eventually find some sort of
solace in the fact that I really do care about you, and I want nothing more than to make you smile.”

Lily looked at him long and hard. It seemed to her that somewhere amidst the silly teasing, the boastful arrogance, the
stares and the pranks, James Potter had grown up, and she'd missed it. The young man standing in front of her was not
the James Potter she'd known. She watched as he eyed her nervously, gauging her reaction. He brought a hand up to his
hair and messed it, sending little clouds of ash puffing up into the air. No, she decided. He was still the James Potter
she knew…and she realized then that that was alright with her.

“Okay,” she said with a slight smile on her pretty face. The adults gaped in amazement. James' eyes widened.

“Okay…what, Sweetheart?” Rose Evans asked curiously. Lily grinned.

“Okay…I'm in. I'll marry James.”

A soft thud echoed through the room as James Potter hit the floor in a dead faint, clutching a ring box tightly in his
hand.

***

“And the rest, they say, is history.” Remus Lupin looked at the young man seated across from him. There was never a
child that looked more obviously like his parents; the spitting image of his father, but graced with his mother's
brilliant green eyes.

“That's honestly how it happened?” Harry Potter bit back a laugh. Across from him, Remus smiled back.

“Well, that's the way they always told the story, anyway. I personally think it's one to be taken with a grain of salt,
but I doubt very much that it is far from the truth,” he replied.

“Thank you, Professor Lupin,” said Harry, a small sad smile playing upon his lips. “I always wondered how my dad managed
to get someone like her to marry him.”
