Lily has inherited the ability to see ghosts. However, after making a mistake, Lily ignores her talent until the summer before her 7th year. Desperate for money Lily becomes an Au Pair to James Potter's cousin Amy. Her most pressing problem comes in the form of Amy's ghost of a brother. Everyone thinks he was murdered but Lily, with the help of James Potter, is convinced to find the truth before it's too late.
From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/7817/
Ghosts of Yesterday
Chapter One: prologue
I remember exactly how it happened. That by itself is an oddity, as my memory is so bad sometimes I can barely remember what I had for dinner the night before.
I was five at the time. It was Petunia's birthday party, and everyone was fawning over her. I felt jealous. Usually I was the one everyone fawned over. I decided the best way to get attention would be to leave the room. Either someone would notice me and I would get scolded, or I would slip away unnoticed and eventually everyone would go looking for me. Despite this, as a five year old I was extremely thoughtful. Where could I go that no one would think of looking for me? My room was definitely out. Whenever I pouted, that's the first place I went to. Mum knew that. I wandered around, hiding under beds or behind chairs, but no place seemed right.
And then as I was climbing up the stairs, it hit me. The attic. The room that I had always been too scared of going in to. But I was five now, and convinced I was too grown-up for things as silly and childish as fear of the attic. So I climbed a little further, ignoring the fact that my legs were starting to ache. I stood up on my very tippy-toes to reach the handle of the door, but it was no use. I had always been small for my age, and I still couldn't quite reach door-knobs. I sat down on the step and pouted, something I seemed to be doing a lot of that day. Then suddenly the door opened. I jumped up happily, and entered, giving no thought as to what exactly opened the door.
There were trunks all over the place, with spiders here and there. One trunk was open. I saw dolls, and gave a little delighted squeal. They were porcelain dolls, but I gave no thought to how fragile it was. I took one down, a girl with beautiful blond hair in a braid, blue eyes, and a long fancy dress, and began playing roughly with her, starting with taking down her perfect braid. I had no idea I wasn't alone until I heard a voice behind me.
“Careful with her. You don't want her to break now, do we?” I gave a tiny gasp and spun around. Behind me was an old lady, though she wasn't supposed to be old because her hair wasn't entirely grey yet, and old people are supposed to have grey hair. It was a very light brown with grey hairs here and there. I also noticed that she wasn't quite visible. I could almost see through her. I recognized her from some photos.
“Grandma? Aren't you supposed to be dead?” I blurted out. I didn't even blush. I was at that age where I said everything and anything on my mind without thinking of the consequences. I didn't even feel scared. After all, I was five years old, and five year olds believe anything and everything….even ghosts.
“Ah, so I was right, you are one of us!” Grandma murmured softly.
I was confused. “One of who?”
“Never you mind. I'll tell you when you're older. Come, I'll show you how to braid her hair and she'll be back to normal.” Grandma stayed until the doll's hair was back to normal, and then she ordered me to go back downstairs, but not before making me promise not to tell anyone. I obeyed, too happy to give a thought to my previous intentions or even the line that everyone always uses and I hate, “I'll tell you when you're older.”
After that, I went up to the attic to visit Grandma whenever I had the chance, which wasn't very often. Mum and Dad were convinced that if I were left alone for very long, I would do something to injure myself. Usually I snuck away while Mummy was in the shower. Sometimes it was hard to not tell anyone what I've seen, especially when I could clearly see that Dad still missed her, but I promised, and I was convinced that if I told anyone, something horrible would happen to me, like my nose would grow like Pinocchio.
Grandma finally told me when I was ten. She was convinced I was old enough to know better than to tell anyone. Not that I would. It was a secret, a true secret unlike the pathetic ones at school, and if I told anyone, it would take the magic away. It wouldn't be special anymore.
“My Great-great grandmother was a witch, and absolutely terrified of aging. She set out on a quest to find the Fountain of Youth, though many were sure it did not exist. When at last she found something, she took a sip, convinced she would stop aging right there and then. While it was not the Fountain of Youth, it was certainly magical, and now each generation there is a female (only a female) who can talk to ghosts.” I was enthralled. I knew I shouldn't believe in witches, but then again I wasn't supposed to talk to the dead either. And I was a witch. The next year my letter arrived. I was to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a school no one in my family has been to since the Fountain of Youth experience.
It was the night before I was to take the train to Hogwarts that it happened. It was late and I had been sleeping. Suddenly I felt someone shake me awake. It was Grandma. I'm not the best person to be around when I have just woken up, so I snapped at her. “What do you want Grandma? It better be important to have me woken up for this. I have a big day tomorrow.”
“I know. That's why I made you this. It's for good luck.” Grandma proudly held out her work. It was a chain with an image of a fairy on it. “It's been passed down to all the Ghost-seers in our family. I was going to wait to give this to you, but I've decided that now was a better time.” She fastened it around my neck.
“Thank you. Now go away so I can sleep.” I snapped. I didn't stop to think of the power behind my words. The next morning I went up to the attic to big Grandma good-bye and to apologize for last night. She wasn't there.
“Grandma, where are you?” I called out. Maybe she was just pouting, though I doubted it. Grandma wasn't the pouting type. I called out her name over and over and over again until it was time to go, daring to hope that she was still there.
My name is Lily Nicole Evans, and it is my fault that Grandma is gone. Here, on the train to Hogwarts, I solemnly swear to never use my curse again.
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Ghosts of Yesterday
Chapter Two
I thought I had left all ghosts behind. I thought that if I pretended not to see them, eventually they would go away. Of course, using my five-year-old logic didn't work. Not only, as I began getting more and more educated, did I start getting more and more questions about it, such as, wasn't it just the Spanish looking for it? Didn't the witches and wizards know that it was just a way that the Native American Indians to get rid of the Spaniards? And did witches and wizards get the diseases and such that killed all the Spanish? Then I would find myself wondering what Grandma's answer would be if she were still around, and hating myself for letting a thing as silly as lack of sleep ruin my life. I was supposed to be intelligent!
For another, try as I might, I couldn't get myself to get rid of the fairy necklace. It was pretty much all I had left of her, and the one time I had thrown it away, it didn't work. I felt empty without it, like a piece of my soul was missing, so I only lasted about three hours before giving up and putting it back on.
And last, ghosts were very common at Hogwarts. Not my kind of ghosts though, the kinds of ghosts everyone sees. This gave me another question. Why are there ghosts that everyone sees, and others that only I can see? Was it that, just like there are different races in humans, there are different kinds of ghosts? I could have probably asked the ghosts why everyone could have seen them, but my start with the ghosts wasn't exactly the best.
It had all started on my first night at Hogwarts, at the Welcoming Feast. I was helping myself to a second handful of rosemary potatoes when a ghost came up next to me.
`Oh no.' I thought to myself, inwardly panicking, `I must be some sort of a magnet! Just keep eating, and take a deep breath. Maybe he isn't here for me after all.'
“Hello, and welcome to Hogwarts! May I ask what your name is?” He directed towards me. I could feel a blush coming up on my cheeks and I had to keep down a groan. I took a huge bite of the potatoes, hoping he'd get the message. However, as though he had some sort of a censor (and who knew? I thought to myself, maybe he did) he patiently waited until I was done eating. I shook my head, willing it to go away.
“Miss?” I gave no answer.
“Humph. People these days. That's the response I get for trying to be polite.” And without a further word, he stalked off angrily out of the hall.
A girl sitting next to me, a second year with dark brown hair split into two pony-tails, leaned over. “Why didn't you answer Nearly Headless Nick?”
I nearly fell out of my chair.
“You can see him too?” I asked, my green eyes wide in surprise.
“Of course I can! And you hurt his feelings! Nearly Headless Nick can really hold a grudge.” And he did. From then on, he avoided me as much as possible. But I was fine with that, especially since he wasn't the type to do revenge. A grudge I could stand, danger I couldn't.
&&&
It was the last day of sixth year, and I was at Platform nine and three quarters saying goodbye to my two dearest friends, Caroline Jenkins and Heather Brown.
“Promise you'll write me every day!” Heather was saying, clutching onto my arm. I rolled my eyes. Heather always was overdramatic, but it was one of the reasons I loved her so much. Caroline was more quiet, but she was also very sarcastic and she could make me roll on the floor in hysterical laughter within seconds. She was also the one I went to whenever I had a non Ghost-seeing problem. Despite how close I was with them, I still kept my promise to Grandma and kept it a secret.
Besides, why would I risk my friendship on them not believing me? I had enough problems without having to add "no friends" to the list.
"I don't have an owl, remember, Heather?" We went through this practically every year. It was some sort of a tradition, and now it seemed like bad luck not to do it.
"Oh." Heather looked downcast for a moment and then brightened up. "You can borrow Annie's owl," Annie was her older sister, "I'm sure she wouldn't mind if it meant I stayed sane."
I noticed Mum and Dad walking towards me, arm in arm. I gave Caroline and Heather quick side hugs and, pulling my trunks along, walked towards them,
"Darling, how good it is to see you." Mum said, kissing the air next to each of my cheeks before giving a tiny laugh and both she and Dad gave me a bone crushing hug at the same time. It was an on going joke of my mother's to pretend to be a proper British lady. In fact, it was one of the things I missed most about her when I was away at Hogwarts.
Usually, I spend a week thrilled to be home and satisfied at catching up on things before I become terribly terribly bored and find myself some sort of hobby or goal. Last year I had been horrified at how my room seemed like a guest room with how empty it was, so I had spent the summer redecorating my room. The year before that it had been helping the poor and reading to the blind, and the year before that I had spent the summer writing in an authorly (if that even was a word or made any sense) fashion. (Meaning staying at a cafe all day, drinking cup after cup of coffee, or in my case hot chocolate, and observing everyone around me like a spy.)
This year, so far I was quite uncertain as to what I should do. So I did what I usually did when I was uncertain about something: I sat at my desk in my oldest and most comfortable pajamas sipping hot chocolate and doodling, humming a tune under my breath. I was in the middle of doodling a pumpkin when a thought came to me. I was almost a seventh year, and once I graduated from Hogwarts I was on my own. I had practically no money, just some to buy textbooks and other materials with. How was I supposed to support myself? What I needed was a job. And not a muggle job, a job from the Wizarding World. It was possible to change pounds to galleons, but it was a hassle, so I was going to make it as easy on myself as possible. Besides, I didn't want to accidentally say something about my world. Way too risky.
But what work was there for someone who hadn't graduated yet? And how would I find a job? I had practically no connections to the Wizarding World, and most of the ones I did have I couldn't use or wouldn't dare to. I was fairly sure that just as much as I would want to get an owl from them, they would want to get one from me.
Suddenly, another idea popped into my head, but unfortunately I would have to wait for that one.
Two days later, Annie's owl Korithus (she liked making up names) arrived at last, carrying a letter from Heather. It was mostly complaining about how bored she felt, how there was practically nothing to do and she wished that she could visit me or me her, and asking what my ideas for an activity this year so that she could in. And please let it be something that would attract a lot of cute guys. The last part was a joke. Heather had once been told she was very popular (though we all doubt it) and ever since Heather liked to act how most popular people were seen as acting. Part of that was drooling after guys even though, as far as we knew, Heather wasn't interested in boys at all.
I wrote a response, telling her the few things that had happened in my life, and I also asked her if she would be so kind as to send me a Daily Prophet in her next letter so that I could find a job, which was my new Hobby. I let Korithus the owl eat and drink and rest for a good amount of time before sending it off again. I stared at the night sky where the bird was starting to disappear from site, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for the Daily Prophet to arrive.
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Ghosts of Yesterday
Chapter Three
The owl arrived a few days later. I was slurping some chicken noodle soup (even though Mum was scolding me about slurping and it is rather childish) when I heard a `tap tap tap' on the window. The noise as well as the noise maker made Dad jump up and Mum give a tiny scream.
“Don't worry Mum and Dad; it's just an owl from Heather.” I grimaced as I got out of my chair. Most of the time when I received owls, I got them in my room. Though they were very supportive of the fact that I was a witch, I knew that our world still kind of scared them, so I tried to have them have as little as possible to do with my world. I grabbed the letter and its carrier and ran up to my room. I would heat it up and eat later. Right now, I had way more important things to do then eat.
Despite my earlier worries about not being able to find a job because I hadn't graduated/had NEWTS yet, it didn't take me very long to find a possible candidate for a job. This was what the ad said:
WANTED: One live-in helping hand to care for a young girl, age 5. Contact Mrs. Chapman by owl for more details or to apply. Requirements: must be 16 or older, must be good with children and care for them, and must be fairly flexible. Must bring black formal clothes.
Hey, I could do this. Never mind the fact that I had never babysat kids before, but hey, it couldn't be that hard, right? And I was a kid once, even if it had been ten years ago. I sat down to write out my reply. I mean, it's not like it'd be the end of the world if I took a live-in job…It's not like it would be with James Potter or anything.
In fact, I was so confident that I would get the job and I would like it, that I packed my trunks right then and there after sending off the owl once more.
&&&
I did, in fact, get the job. Now was the harder part, telling Mum and Dad. Because of my over-confidence, I didn't even have packing to put it off. Still, I waited as long as possible. I counted tiles on the wall; I counted books, neatened up my room until even a person with an obsessive compulsive disorder about neatness would have been satisfied. I did everything I could think of until, at last, there was nothing else to do. So I did another tactic that every kid does at least once in their lifetime: I sucked up to them.
First I sat at the table, even going as far as folding the napkins into bird shapes. (Four years ago my summer hobby had been learning origami, and even now I was fairly good at it. Mostly because people were always asking me to make shapes for them.)
After that I told Mum and Dad that I would be cooking dinner (another thing I had learned four years ago, as origami hadn't taken up enough of my time.) Mum hated cooking and was rather bad at it so Dad was the one who did most of it. The rest of the time, Petunia and I had to figure it out and make it ourselves.
Tonight, I decided to go with something fairly simple. I didn't want to go too overboard or else they would expect more of me. Now that wouldn't be good. One nice thing about being gone practically the entire year was that Mum and Dad's expectations of me were fairly low. I decided on toasting tortillas and making toppings for a put-it-together-yourself burrito.
At last, it was dinner time. I waited until everyone had finished eating (just in case it didn't work out very well, I wanted to have a full stomach before stomping out of the room) and Dad was drinking his evening coffee to finally bring it up.
“Mum, Dad, I have something I want to talk to you about.” I began, crossing my fingers under the table for good luck.
“Ahh, so that's what all this was for. I was wondering about that. The day a teenager does anything around the house without expecting something in return is the day the world ends.” Dad said, taking a sip of his coffee. I guess I was more obvious then I thought, but no matter. Though I did make a mental note to myself to do something around the house for no reason one day to see what Dad's response would be.
“Well, you know how I'm going to be graduating from Hogwarts soon? I need some way to support myself after I graduate, during the time when I'm looking for a job and, when I find one, waiting for the paycheck. So,” Here I took a deep breath, “I applied for a job a few weeks ago. And I got it.”
“That's wonderful, honey! I'm so proud of how responsible you are. What are the hours?”
“Er, it's a live in job.” Suddenly the smile that was on Mum's face disappeared.
“No, absolutely not. I only get to see you a few times a year, and now I don't even get that? Find a new job.”
Here was the trickier part. Most people say red-heads have fiery tempers, and maybe that's true, maybe it isn't. I, however, am fairly good at keeping calm. Not that I never shouted or screamed or snapped at someone, but usually I could hold myself back. Right now, if I stomped my foot saying something like, "This isn't fair! I'm almost an adult, and I HATE you!" my parents wouldn't budge a bit. What I had to do was stay calm and rational and insult free, and present myself in a way that would change their mind. Plus, this method grows respect for me, which is useful in the long run.
"It is very important to me to have this job. And I looked and looked for other options, but this was the only one I found that I could do. Besides, I'll come home for Christmas this year, I promise." Most holidays I spent with Caroline or Heather, but usually Caroline. And okay, so I had only looked in one issue of the Daily Prophet for a job, but hey, it counted, right?
Mum sighed sadly. "Well, if you put it like that, I suppose... But remember that you have to come home for Christmas, or next time you ask for something big like this..." And, just because I knew it would make him angry and possibly affect the overall decision if I didn't do this, I looked to Dad to see what he would say about this, but he just gave a little nod and said, "I agree with your mother."
"YES! Thank you, Mum! Thank you, Dad!" I jumped out of my chair and gave each of them a hug and a kiss before running off to share the good news with Caroline and Heather.
&&&
The next day at precisely two o'clock, I apparated where I had been directed to go in the letter. I had always been taught that being on time to everything (early was okay in some circumstances but in most cases, it wasn't good in case things weren't prepared for you yet or the people weren't expecting you. And it is pretty self-explanatory why being late is bad.) and while I didn't always follow it, I knew it was important to make as good of an impression as possible on my employer.
The place I apparated to was near Amy Chapman's, the little girl I was the Au Pair to (I know most people here in England call it nanny, but I like au pair better. Makes me feel more educated, and WAY more fun to say.), house. Apparently the Chapmans had made it so that people couldn't apparate in the house, and I didn't have floo powder, so that option was out. And apparently a lot of houses were this way, as this area had a special area for apparating people, just like a train station does for people traveling that way.
I had just gotten to the point where I was considering taking out a book and read, despite the fact that I had wanted to save my books with me being such a fast reader and all, when someone finally arrived. Amy's mother, I assumed. The lady was very beautiful. She was tall and had long blonde hair, and hazel eyes. And, surprisingly enough, instead of the Wizard robes I was expecting for her to wear, she was wearing ordinary clothes. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me with a smile. I liked her right away, and felt that I had made the right decision.
“Lily Evans, I presume?” She said. I gave a nod in confirmation, and, finally showing some sign of being a witch, she took out her wand and shrank my trunks to a size where it was easy to pick them up. We each grabbed one and walked to her house in silence. At last, when we arrived, I stared at it for a moment.
It had a simple white paint job, with simple grey roof tiles, but you knew from its sheer size that it was not merely something simple. The inside also had a lot of expensive things in it, and was very full, but despite all this, it wasn't like most full-of-expensive-things houses. It was still somehow cozy and comfortable and well, homey. Again, I felt like I had made the right decision, and that, if the little girl was as nice as everything else had been so far, I was going to have a wonderful summer.
It was just that, as I was going up the stairs with the lady to my third-floor bedroom that I realized that my summer wasn't going to be so great after all. And that the woman wasn't really Mrs. Chapman. I knew it was too good to be true, especially considering my luck. Because coming down the stairs, asking when dinner was going to be ready, was none other than James Potter.
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Ghosts of Yesterday
Chapter Four
It didn't really hit me right away. I just sort of stared at them, stunned into silence.
“You are the nanny, Lily?” James asked, his hazel eyes wide, though he smirked at the last two words, since it made me sound like an old lady. He looked like Christmas had come early this year. As much as I hate that phrase, it described him perfectly.
“Oh, you know each other? Good. Maybe my worries of you scaring her away with your pranks and mischief won't come true after all.” The person who I realized must be Mrs. Potter said, the relief in her voice being obvious. Not that I blamed her. Going to school with James for the past six years made me wary of him too, and I didn't have to be exposed to him his whole life! Though to be fair, she didn't have to deal with him the entire year. Still, it was enough for me to pity her. Suddenly, something came to me, and no matter how rude it might sound I just had to voice it. Though I didn't really care about how good of an impression I made anymore, now that I knew whose mother Mrs. Potter was.
“Erm, Mrs. Potter-” Here she interrupted me to tell me to call her Elaine, “Elaine, if you are Mrs. Potter, then why is Amy Chapman staying here?” The minute it came out of my mouth, I regretted it, because the expression on Mrs., er, Elaine's face looked as if she had just eaten something sour. Suddenly, I remembered something. On the letter, it had instructed me to bring formal black clothing. Did that mean what I thought it did?
“You know what? Forget I asked.” I said quickly.
“Right. Your room is on the third floor, fourth to the left.” Apparently, Elaine was no longer up to showing me to my room. She did, however, flash me a smile (though it was a sad one) so I knew she didn't hate me.
I jumped up the stairs two at a time until I got to my room. As I opened the door, my mouth dropped open at the sight that greeted me. The first impression it gave was of old-fashioned glamour. The second impression was the color blue.
Wrapped in aged blue floral wallpaper, the room was rather small and square, with two windows, one larger than the other. I walked in, a hand running along the wall as I paced the room to the larger window, which was flanked by a desk and rocking chair covered in white and blue fabric.
Outside my window was a different world than anything I'd ever seen. A small expanse of trees led right up to a crystal clear pond that had several pool elements, like inflatable rafts and a metal-framework table with matching chairs, on its banks.
I tore myself away from the view and sat down in the rocking chair, facing into my blue, blue room. Barely five feet from my outstretched legs was a funny little wooden stool, topped with a blue cushion, which stood at the foot of a four-poster bed. Blue curtains hung from the corners, and a bed skirt that was the same color blue as the curtains covered the dark wood of the bed frame. Off to the side, just on the edge of my sight line, a tall wardrobe with mirrors engraved into the doors dominated the wall farthest from my door. I sighed, relaxing more into the plush exterior of the rocking chair. I quickly shed my flip-fops and buried my toes in the thick Oriental rug that covered that half of the room. I didn't know why I felt the desire to paint my room yellow before - the blue theme was so comforting. And relaxing.
In most cases by now I would have jumped on the bed by now, but it was too pretty to destroy, and I was quite comfortable where I was. Now I had some serious thinking to do.
What should I do? Should I quit my job? As soon as I thought that (In my head, of course. I only thought out loud when I was absolutely desperate. Living with people most of the time did that to you, you know?) I quickly shook my head `no.' I was never one to quit a good challenge (and dealing with James was a challenge), Mrs. Potter depended on me, and she had just been so nice to me so far, as this room proved. Far nicer than I deserved. Besides, I still needed the money and I had to admit it gave me a small amount of pleasure thinking I was taking the money that could be spent on James. You could even say that I was taking his money. Thus proving that I wasn't deserving of such nice treatment.
`I'm going to definitely keep this job then. Maybe if I stay civil to him, he will behave.' I thought, finally gathering the courage to pounce on the bed.
Who was I kidding? This was James Potter I was talking about. Behave definitely wasn't his middle name. Trouble was more like it. Which figures, seeing as trouble follows me no matter where I go.
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