Arranging Lives by Irish_Rose

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Lily & James
Book: Lily & James, Books 1 - 5
Published: 21/06/2004
Last Updated: 21/06/2004
Status: In Progress

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




1. Arranging Lives
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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.”


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