Dedications: Let's honor the worthy!
My loverly muse: You are the best.
Erika (Ricky): For pushing me to update sooner.
Telwyn: She'll be jealous Ricky got one and not her too.
Babyjayy: You surely deserve one by now.
Chapter 2: A Glimpse of the Past
There is no point in me describing the way Lily packed her things, because she packed much in the same boring way everyone else packs and to pen such boring words would just be a waste of space.
So I won't mention the dull way she stuffed her mother's letter back into its envelope, or the uninteresting task of emptying the contents of the cardboard box her mother left her into her large duffel bag. Nor will I touch upon the monotonous subject of changing one's clothes or how Lily went about it. Because if I did, you would all probably die of boredom and I can't have that on my conscience.
After Lily's unmentionable packing routine, Mrs. Manila stepped back into the room, shoes and a light sweater added to her pajamas, and said, "Are you ready to go?" with such forced casualty that Lily almost dropped her bag and cried right there.
But she refused to. "Yes," she replied, and re-positioned the bag on her shoulder.
With a nod, the older woman led the way from the room. Lily took in her surroundings voraciously. She didn't want to forget any detail of the Manilas' home even though her stay there hadn't been entirely pleasant.
The warmth of the summer night engulfed her, a comfort. She inhaled deeply, letting the feeling trickle through her. Summer nights had always been soothing to her. The reality of her situation slapped her in the face when Mrs. Manila called her from her daze to put her bag in the trunk. The same depressed, nauseous feeling she'd had all day flooded her and without a word she did as the woman asked and set into the passenger seat of the car.
Cool air streamed into her face as Mrs. Manila started up the car and they backed out of the driveway, brushing a garbage can on their way. It wasn't a long drive to the orphanage. Privet Drive was only seven minutes by car from the downtown area. It seemed much shorter to Lily, though, who dreaded her arrival. She had no idea what she was going to do to get out of the orphanage in the morning or what she'd do even if she managed to escape unseen.
"What did your mother's letter say?" interjected Mrs. Manila on her thoughts.
"Just told me where she put something else she left for me," said Lily, staring down at her feet.
"If you'd like, I could bring it for you in the morning, whatever it is," offered Mrs. Manila. "I'll just need its location."
Lily blushed at her kindness. "Oh, you don't have to."
"I insist!" she said. "It's the least I can do."
Indisposed, Lily agreed. She didn't like feeling a burden. "It's a box of my mother's jewelry. It's in her bedroom behind a portrait of a lake. The combination to the safe is 09-17-42."
Mrs. Manila turned to smile at her. "I'll drop it off first thing in the morning."
Moments later the car stopped in front of the stoop to a tall brick building labeled "Little Whinging City Orphanage." Mrs. Manila got out to open the trunk and help her with her bag. She stood staring at Lily with a faint smile and a wistful expression before muttering "I almost forgot!" and rushing to the driver's seat to recover her purse. She rustled through it and withdrew two crisp, twenty-pound notes.
"I can't take your money." Lily stepped backward.
"You must, Lily," ordered Mrs. Manila. "I won't leave you with nothing."
Lily shook her head.
Mrs. Manila shrugged. "I have all night to stand here, and so do you. Neither one of us will move until you take it."
"Mrs. Manila!" whined Lily. "You can't!"
She held the money out. "Take it, then."
Part of her wanted to take Mrs. Manila up on her word and wait it out all night, mostly because she didn't want her to leave her alone at the orphanage. She felt like she had on the first day of kindergarten when she was frightened to let go of her mother's hand and play with the other children. She decided against waiting it out, however, and took the money; she felt she had to be brave and face what lay ahead, even if she didn't want to.
"Let's knock on the door," said Mrs. Manila, hastening her forward with a tap on the back.
Lily eyed her over her shoulder. "You're coming inside?"
"Of course! Did you think I'd leave you alone on a stoop late at night?"
Lily shrugged. "I don't know what to expect anymore."
Mrs. Manila said nothing. She knocked on twice on the door. Half a minute later, the door swung open, revealing an elderly, tired-looking woman. She yawned and said,
"How can I help you two?"
Mrs. Manila cleared her throat. "I'm here to...." Her watering eyes gestured to Lily. The woman nodded and opened the door wider, inviting them in. They entered a large room dimmed for slumber. Several wooden desks along with waiting room style chairs occupied the room and the name Coosje Vermaat adorned the plaque that sat upon the nearest desk.
"Dear," said the elderly woman Lily assumed was Coosje Vermaat, "I'll sort this out with your mum. You can go to bed. Down that hall"--she indicated the hall to Lily's left--"is the girls' dormitory. Make yourself comfortable."
She wanted to correct Mrs. Vermaat's assumption because she seemed to be subtly giving Mrs. Manila a guilt trip, but instead she nodded and went down the hall, her bag bouncing against her thigh as she walked.
The girls' dormitory reminded her of ones at a typical summer sleep away camp. Bunks piled in threes lined all four walls. Toys, art supplies and games littered the center of the room and Lily used the clear spaces of floor to navigate the room, searching for an empty bunk. Eventually she found one near the back of the room tucked between another vacant bed and one holding a small dark-haired girl who seemed to be asleep.
She swung her bag up onto the bed and climbed the ladder. Because she spent the entire day sleeping, Lily didn't feel the least bit tired. Remembering her mother's diaries, she unzipped her bag and rummaged through it, trying to find a diary from her mother's early years. Her mother promised a laugh from them, exactly what she needed that night.
While at times the contents of Mrs. Evans's diary entertained her, reading it--for the most part--only made her miss her parents more. Each time one of her mother's stories brought a smile to her face, tears welled up in her eyes simultaneously. Oh, how lovely it would be, she thought, to hear these stories from Mrs. Evans herself! A thousand times she scolded herself that night for staying at Hogwarts over the holidays the past year, for keeping her dreadful secret from her mother, for going to Hogwarts at all.
Lily's frustration soon overtook her and she dug into her bag for her wand. She glared at it, laying in her palm, and pitched it to the floor. Then she buried herself within the thin blanket on her bed and began to cry. Vaguely she wondered how the table of her life had taken such a turn for the worse.
Even minutes before the December night Lucius Malfoy started her misery, she thought things were going extraordinarily well. Her marks were excellent, she had finally achieved a balance between homework and Prefect duties, and the prospect of a Hogsmeade date hung in the air. Since her fifth year at Hogwarts James Potter had taken to asking her out from time to time. At first she didn't even consider his offers; she had no interest in pretentious, pugnacious show-offs. But after it was pointed out to him that those qualities were the reasons Lily always turned him down, his behavior made a slow progress to that of a gentleman.
Instead of trying to impress her with his 'mad tormenting skills' he struck up conversations. The first proved to be awkward and brief, but with time they got the hang of it and Lily could actually bear being in the same room with him.
Next came the offer of Quidditch matches, the only other idea of which he could think. Lily groaned inwardly when he first brought them up; she and Quidditch weren't exactly old mates. She struggled through the first one, which lasted three torturous hours. ("Why doesn't he just invite Snape to get back at him?" she had mentioned to a friend.) She forced a grin at the end of the match (Gryffindor victory) when James turned up outside of the boys' locker room; she hadn't wanted to be rude to her new friend. The game became less agonizing after a couple matches more. Lily began to find the game fascinating. The rules, the terminology, the amazing effect achieved when a team worked as one.
By the time of the sixth game, Lily waited eagerly for James's invitation. It came, but unfortunately so did a hailstorm. And even hardy Quidditch players wouldn't fly in hail.
The night of the canceled match and the night of the rape were one and the same. Lily always suspected James's comment to Malfoy played the main role in her rape. He did it to hurt James indirectly. Trouble was, James never found out.
Lily and James dined together at the dinner table that night, and Malfoy, being Malfoy, couldn't resist an opportunity to make a snide remark.
"Pity the match was canceled," he had said. "Now your Mudblood girlfriend can't cheer you on."
"It's more of a pity we can't get the last match of the season over with and flaunt the House Cup for the...eighth year in a row now? And," he added, "Lily may not be a pure-blooded witch, but she's certainly more pure in other ways than your girlfriend." James signaled Narcissa Black, whose hand was slowly making its way up the leg of a good-looking boy over at the Slytherin table. He smirked; Lucius stormed off in a rage.
From the moment James defended her, Lily knew she would accept his offer next time he worked up his courage to ask her out. He was definitely worth her time. Much to her pleasure, James played his old game near the end of dinner.
"Evans," he'd muttered, blushing in her presence for the first time, "I haven't asked this question for a long time and since we've become well...friends now, I've even more reason to." Lily discovered herself blushing as well. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?"
Lily contained her excitement. She didn't want to give him too eager an answer and come off desperate, or too casual an answer and let him know that she'd been expecting his question. The answer she gave him, however, she wished she could change.
"I'll think about it, James," she answered coyly. "And I'll give you my answer at breakfast tomorrow." She rose from the bench, a slight smile on her face.
James looked surprised and relieved he hadn't received a rejection on the spot. "Sure...think as long as you need to." He smiled.
Lily would always beat herself up over not accepting him on the spot. If she had, James would have walked with her to the Gryffindor Common Room. If she had, she wouldn't have been alone, a target. If she had, she wouldn't have been raped. But she didn't accept him on the spot. She didn't accept him at all. By the time she made her mind up completely, it was too late. She already bore her scars--both physical and mental--and her fear of men. So, undecided about who would accompany her to Hogsmeade the next day, she set off for the Gryffindor Tower alone.
Present-day Lily rolled over in her bed, escaping the memory, and stared at the floor, wiping stray tears that trickled down her cheeks. Sounds of movement came from below; a dark head popped up in front of Lily's, startling her.
"Why are you crying?" asked the small girl. She couldn't have been more than five or six, by the looks of her.
"No reason," muttered Lily.
"You aren't crying for nothing," conceded the girl. "Something is bothering you. What is it? Are you sad because your family left you here?"
"My family," said Lily angrily, "would not leave me here."
The girl pulled herself into Lily's bunk and sat beside her. "Who left you here, then?"
"My neighbor." Lily picked absently at the chipped paint on the wall.
"Why?"
"Because her husband didn't want me in their house," said Lily. She hoped this would silence the girl.
"Why didn't you just go back to your house?" asked the girl. "You didn't have to come here."
"I don't have a house," said Lily flatly.
"You don't have a house?" said the girl incredulously. "Where did you live before the orphanage?"
"Well, I used to have a house," amended Lily, "but it's my sister's now. My parents left it to her."
"Where are your parents?"
Lily hesitated before speaking. "Dead."
The girl bowed her head. "Oh. I'm sorry. My parents are dead too. Well...my mother is. I don't know where my Daddy went."
"What do you mean?" asked Lily. "Why did he leave?"
"He didn't want to," clarified the girl, "but my mother made him."
"Why would she do that?"
"She didn't want to be married to him anymore; she said he was crazy," explained the girl.
"How was he crazy?"
"He said"--she giggled--"that he's a wizard. Isn't that silly?" The girl kept giggling, hoping Lily would join her in what she obviously thought was a very amusing joke.
Lily grew uncomfortably warm. Her wand caught her eye, scrambled with dislodged puzzle pieces.
"Do you believe in witches and wizards?" asked the girl abruptly.
"Well," began Lily, choosing her words carefully, "don't you think it's silly to believe that there's no possibility of them existing?"
"What does possibility mean?"
"It means: I think it's silly for someone to believe there can't be witches and wizards on earth."
"But everyone says they're not real," said the child.
"You shouldn't believe something only because it's the popular view," admonished Lily.
"Have you seen witches and wizards before?" demanded the girl.
Lily paused before responding. "What would you say if I told you I have?"
The girl's eyes grew wide. "I'd say: where?"
Lily laughed. "Everywhere. You can probably find a few in every city in the world."
"Really?" gasped the child. "Do you know any?"
"A...few," understated Lily. She arched her legs and turned so her back rested against the wall.
"What are they like? Where did you meet them? Can I meet them too?" gushed the girl. Her eyes shone with a hungry excitement.
"They're just like Mug--regular people," replied Lily. "I met them in Scotland, and you've already met one."
"I have?" exclaimed the girl. "How do you know? Who was it?" She leaned slightly forward, hanging on Lily's every word.
What harm was there in telling the child? After all, no one would believe her if she tried spreading the news. "Me," said Lily, hopping over the side of the bed. She snatched up her wand and climbed the ladder to her bunk again. She didn't want to forget about it and risk an unpleasant scene in the morning. "But you can't tell anyone in the orphanage. You can't tell anyone at all."
"Why not?"
"Because they might put me away in an asylum or try and hang me or something similar. Most people don't like witches and wizards."
"Oh." The girl seemed deeply saddened by these words. Lily guessed it had something to do with her father. "What's your name?"
"Lily Evans."
"I'm Dinah Elamain," said Dinah.
"Dinah is a pretty name," said Lily, smiling. "It's Biblical, you know."
"Biblical?" questioned Dinah.
"From the Bible," Lily defined. "My mother used to read passages to me when I was little."
"Lily?" said Dinah. "Will you show me some magic?"
Lily slapped her wand into her palm. "I can't do anything big. Someone might see or wake up."
"Do something little, then. I don't mind." She clasped her hands in her lap and smiled expectantly at Lily.
"All right, Dinah. But just this once. Lumos!" The end of her wand brought light to the dark room. "Nox!" she whispered hurriedly. The room darkened again.
"Wow!" whispered Dinah in awe. "How did you learn to do that?" Can anyone be a witch?"
"No, not everyone can be a witch. You have to be born magical. And I learned at Hogwarts, a magical school."
"Am I a witch?" asked Dinah. "Since my Daddy said he's a wizard?" Part of her appeared to want an affirmative response, but Lily saw fear mingled with her eagerness. She probably worried someone would get rid of her, like people had gotten rid of Lily and her father, the only magical folk of whom she knew.
"You might be," said Lily. "But because your parents aren't here to tell you, you won't find out for sure until you turn eleven; that's when Hogwarts will send you your letter."
"Will I get a wand too?" asked Dinah eagerly. The prospect of having magical powers brushed away her worries.
"Of course you will," said Lily, chortling. "All witches and wizards use wands."
Dinah's avidity and wide grin alleviated Lily's sorrow. She joined the child in her happiness.
"What else can witches do?" asked Dinah. Her bright blue eyes twinkled in the moonlight.
"Lots of things," said Lily with a slight smile. "Probably anything you can think of."
"Bring dead people back?" volunteered Dinah. Lily's feeling of happiness flooded from her.
"No, actually. That we can't do."
"Good," mumbled Dinah. "I don't want my mother to come back."
"She wasn't good to you?" asked Lily in surprise.
"No. She always hit me and she did drugs. The drugs killed her." Some of Lily's old Muggle friends had gotten involved with drugs. Her neighbor from down the street was once so high she nearly jumped off her roof into the grass, thinking she was diving into a pool.
"When did she die?"
"A month ago. I have to stay here until my new mother comes to adopt me." She eyed Lily, sizing her up. "You're too big to have a new mother. You could be a mother."
"I won't be here long," Lily said. "When I turn eighteen I'm allowed to go and buy a house and start my own life." She didn't bother pondering yet how she would manage this with virtually no money.
"When do you turn eighteen?"
"November ninth."
"Good," said Dinah, relieved. "That's a long time away. I don't want you to leave any time soon." She scooted close to Lily, who felt warm inside at the child's affection. Since she didn't want to disappoint her only friend, she kept her plans of sneaking away to herself.
"Even if I leave before you, you won't be alone. A nice family will take you home and you'll be their baby." She forced a smile. On some level, she was jealous of Dinah's happy future.
Dinah shifted herself into Lily's lap and covered them with the blanket. "I don't want a new mother," she whimpered. "What if my new one is as bad as my old one?"
"She won't be," whispered Lily, cuddling her. "She'll be very kind and she'll read you books, tuck you in at night, and love you very much."
"Will you tuck me in, Lily?" asked Dinah, tilting her head backward to look at her.
Lily kissed her cheek. "Of course I will." She started to get up.
"Where are you going?" said Dinah, as Lily jostled her about with her movements.
"We have to climb down the ladder to your bed if I'm going to tuck you in," replied Lily.
"I don't want to sleep in my bed," quavered Dinah, shifting close to Lily again. "I get scared when I sleep alone. Can I sleep in your bed tonight? You're a witch; you can scare the monsters away."
Lily empathized with Dinah's fears. Some of her allowance may have come from Dinah's confidence in her, as well. She wished she really could scare monsters away. "Okay...but just for tonight."
Dinah smiled and laid down beside Lily. "You're the first friend I've ever had," she said. "Nobody else talks to me here."
"You don't have to worry about being alone anymore," Lily assured her. "I'll always talk to you."
Dinah smiled again and snuggled close to Lily. "Good night."
"Good night, Dinah."
Lily took delight in having a new friend and noted how playing mother to her lessened the pain of recent events. She even tested it, trying to summon her depression. It, stubbornly, refused to surface.
'Staying here might not be as bad as I thought,' she mused.
And she drifted off to sleep, peaceful for the first time since the fire.
O O O