Disclaimer: anAnomaLy owns neither Harry Potter nor the Beatles; they're used here in play.
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Seldom was the once-colorful street of Diagon Alley so wholly deserted. On a normal day, the narrow cobblestone way was packed with students and parents purchasing school supplies or new robes, witches and wizards of all sorts haggling over the prices of kelpie manes or spellbooks. Strange and wondrous smells filled the air on days when the shops' doors were propped open to invite would-be customers inside. Diagon Alley was a place of wonder for those new to the fantastical world of magic, and a nice reprieve for those who lived a life of secrecy within the neighborhoods of Muggle Britain.
However, the sun had been absent for over a week. A chill breeze swirled bits of trash and torn parchment into corners. The paint on many shops' eaves was chipped, and more than one storefront was boarded up: a testament to the protective spells that waited just inside. Shops whose business had survived the sudden decrease in customers thanks to the war seemed dimly lit, as if the shopkeepers were so certain of poor earnings that their efforts were restricted to the slightest possible.
Of course not every store in Diagon Alley was empty today. Hogwarts students would be boarding the Hogwarts Express tomorrow for the start of another school year, which meant that, war or no war, school things had to be purchased. Madame Malkin's, for example, seemed to be doing well. Her small, but brightly lit shop boasted a whopping four customers, although one of them did not seem to wish to be there.
"Mum, I really don't need new robes. I swear I haven't grown an inch," James Potter protested as he was unceremoniously pushed up onto the measuring stool by his mother. Marla Potter's short stature was evidently disproportionate to her strength of will. Her son had been opposed to the idea of being fitted for new robes ever since she had first mentioned it, but not a single one of his protests or suggested alternative activities had swayed her. And, truth be told, he had indeed grown about four inches in the past year.
"Oh stop fidgeting, James. The sooner you stand still, the sooner it will be over," Marla replied, unperturbed, then turned round and waved Madame Malkin over to begin taking measurements.
As the seamstress and her enchanted measuring tape began bustling around him, James sighed and closed his eyes, recognizing defeat. He didn't particularly mind a trip to Diagon Alley, as most of the shops were filled with wacky new magical creations, but Madame Malkin's was a different story. James Potter was an easy-going, good-natured lad who was usually able to find humor in anything, but even he could find nothing amusing about buying new robes. Still, as much as he hated being here, he knew that the sooner he cooperated, the sooner he could leave, so James stood as still as possible and stared vacantly in the direction of the door. His mother and the seamstress' conversation over the new styles of men's robes faded into a dull babble as his mind began to wander.
He was in the process of planning which plays to run in the first Quidditch practice of the year when a flash of long, dark red hair caught his eye and his mind jolted back to earth. There was only one thing that James Potter found more interesting than Quidditch, and she had just walked through the door of Madame Malkin's store. For a split second, he froze, his gaze fixed on the redhead's back. Had she seen him yet? Merlin, he hoped not. Although he was infinitely glad, as always, to catch a glimpse of the object of his affections, somehow James did not think that standing on a wooden stool with two women and a tape measure buzzing around him was the most flattering situation in which to have a conversation with the girl he had been trying to impress for the past three years.
Before he could contemplate the potential merits and drawbacks of calling out a greeting, Madame Malkin, who had heard the ringing of the bell as her shop door opened, waved to her new customers and called out, "I'll be with you in a moment." Her greeting caused the two women at the door to turn around, and James immediately dropped his gaze to the ground as he tried desperately to look anywhere but at the redhead who must surely have recognized him by now.
When he did look up again, a few moments later, she was not staring, nor had she stormed out of the shop. Instead, she and the woman with her (who James presumed to be her mother) were on the other side of the little shop, perusing what looked to be dress robes. Relieved, he emitted a small sigh. Before he could think on it anymore, he realized his measurements were finished, and his mother was trying to ask him if he wanted his new robes lined with black or maroon silk. "Er.. maroon, I s'pose," he answered, sneaking another glance over towards the dress robes section. She still hadn't turned around. Perhaps she hadn't recognized him then.
James' assumption, however, was incorrect. Lily had recognized him the minute she and her mother had entered the shop. She had merely chosen not to do anything about it because she wasn't sure exactly what to do. At school, Lily Evans and James Potter were not on the best of terms, but their paths had never crossed outside of Hogwarts. Although she didn't know quite how to greet him outside of school, she did know that her mother, who was always interested to know anything about her daughter's mysterious other life, would jump at the chance to meet a pure-blooded wizard. This was a situation she wanted to avoid, so as she and her mother browsed through the selection of dress robes, Lily was busy ignoring the fact that Potter was only a few meters away and, if she knew him at all, probably staring at her back. Or, more likely, her arse.
"What about this one?" she asked, grasping the shoulder of a midnight blue robe and pulling it a few inches out from the rack so that her mother could examine it.
"Ohhh, what a beautiful shade of blue. I like it," Betsy Evans responded, an approving smile on her face.
"Me too," Lily agreed, pulling the robe in question from the rack and holding it up to herself as she turned to examine her reflection in the nearby mirror.
"It flatters your coloring quite nicely dear," said the shopkeeper as she approached the Evans women. "Shall we get it fitted then or do you wish to continue browsing?"
"Oh no, I'll take this one," Lily answered. She and Betsy then followed Madame Malkin over to the stool that James had recently vacated. This was one of her favorite things about shopping for wizard clothing. There was no need to try on an item and hope that it would fit. You simply chose the style of dress, skirt, shirt or pants that pleased you and, with a few charms from the seamstress, it could be magically fitted to your exact shape. Handing the robe to her mother, Lily stepped up onto the stool as Madame Malkin began taking her measurements.
While she watched the measurement process, Betsy Evans took a seat on the bench below the shop window and said, "I think we ought to get you a new set of school robes, too, Lily."
"Really, Mum, you don't need to," her daughter protested, "It isn't as though I've grown any. My old robes are fine."
"Oh nonsense, dear. They're looking a bit worn now," Betsy said, then added with a teasing twinkle in her eye. "Besides, you need some fresh new robes to go with that shiny Head Girl badge of yours."
"Mum...," Lily half-hissed, half-muttered, her cheeks flushing with the embarrassment that all children suffer when their parents feel compelled to brag about them in public. Her eyes darted around the shop as if to ascertain that no one else had heard. Fortunately, the only person who seemed to be paying attention was Potter, who was walking towards them from the direction of the changing rooms, now dressed in the robes he had been fitted for a few minutes earlier.
James actually had not heard the exchange between mother and daughter. He had been too busy fiddling with the clasp of his robes, which did not seem to want to fasten. His mother, though, had heard the Evans' conversation, and she was now glancing surreptitiously between her son and the young lady who had held his attention ever since she walked in the store. Marla Potter may have been older than most mothers, but that did not mean her maternal sixth sense was any less attuned. She had never met the redhead standing on the stool in front of them, but she did know that her son had been head over heels for a girl named Lily Evans, who just so happened to have red hair, ever since his fourth year at Hogwarts. And something told her that this Lily Evans and the girl on the stool were one and the same. Even better, it seemed that Lily Evans was going to be Head Girl to her son's Head Boy next year.
Now Marla was not an overtly gregarious woman who struck up conversations with strangers in clothing stores, but she did sometimes have a wicked sense of humor, and this seemed like too golden of an opportunity to pass up. That and she really wanted to meet this Lily Evans character who had so completely captured her darling baby boy's fancy. So, as she followed James across the store, a rather mischievous idea formed in her mind.
Madame Malkin was just finishing Lily's measurements, so Marla waited until the shopkeeper had performed the required alterations charms before requesting her assistance with James' sleeves, which did not seem to be the same length anymore. While Madame Malkin fussed over the unruly sleeve lengths, Marla casually approached the bench where Betsy Evans was seated, waiting for Lily to return from the changing room. She took a seat beside the other mother, then turned towards her and asked with a friendly smile, "Pardon me if this is a bit forward, but I couldn't help overhearing. Did you say your daughter will be Head Girl at Hogwarts this year? You must be so proud."
The second the words left her mouth, Marla gained the absolute attention of two people in the room. James was now staring at her with a mixture of apprehension and embarrassment on his face. Betsy was surprised, but smiling, like all mothers do, at the opportunity to brag about her child.
"Oh.. yes I did," she answered, "Her father and I are very proud of her." Then she glanced from James to Marla and asked, "Does your son attend Hogwarts as well?"
"Well this is a happy coincidence," Marla replied, her smile widening even further, "My James has just been named Head Boy. Funny that we should have both run into each other here." Nodding in James' direction, she added, "I'm Marla Potter, by the way, and this is my son, James."
Betsy's eyes widened as she glanced between the two Potters again, and then she laughed. "It is an odd coincidence, but it's very nice to meet both of you. I'm Betsy Evans, and my daughter Lily is somewh- Oh! Here she comes." She smiled brightly and beckoned her daughter over to join them. Lily, now wearing the robe she had just fitted, approached the party warily, unsure as to why her mother was having a conversation with James' mum or why she was so intent on Lily joining it. "Come over here so I can see, Lil," Betsy admonished. "Now turn around for me. Slowly. I definitely think you should get this one. You look lovely, dear."
"Thanks, Mum," Lily replied, glancing curiously between Betsy and Marla. "Er.."
"Oh yes, how silly of me," Betsy said, "You'll never guess who I've just met. This is Marla Potter and her son James. Have you two met before? He's at Hogwarts too."
"Er yeah. We're um.. we're actually in the same house," Lily answered, casting a rather grudging smile towards James, who was still standing on the stool while Madame Malkin charmed his sleeves back to the same length. "H'lo James. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Potter."
"Hey Evans," James said, hoping his expression was casual and disinterested and trying his best to ignore the fact that Lily Evans was standing not one meter away from him, looking breathtakingly gorgeous in the dress robes she was wearing.
"So you two do know each other," Betsy said, breaking the beat of awkward silence that had followed the young people's greeting. "Even better! Lily, Marla has just been telling me that James will be your fellow Head student next year. Isn't this a funny coincidence?"
"Yeah.. funny," Lily answered, thinking that it was anything but. Potter? Potter was Head Boy? Was this some elaborate prank he was pulling on her? For a moment as she stared suspiciously at James, she forgot that they were in public, but she soon recovered herself and forced an expression of pleased surprise onto her face. "Congratulations, Potter. I er.. didn't know you had it in you."
While he was fairly positive that Lily was only pretending to be glad to hear the news, James was genuinely overjoyed. He may have been embarrassed when his mother first initiated conversation with Lily's mum, but by this point the self-confident lad had recovered his usual composure. Lily's confused response and backhanded compliment did not throw him the slightest bit off balance, and he replied with a wry grin, "Well frankly, Evans, neither did I. But thanks. And congratulations to you too."
Any further conversation was momentarily prevented by Madame Malkin, who interjected, "Excuse me, Mr. Potter, but if you don't mind holding out both your arms for me.." James complied, and she nodded, "There we are. They're even now. Are you looking for anything else today? Some dress robes of your own, perhaps?"
James hesitated a moment, weighing his options. On the one hand, he really did despise trying on robes, but if it would afford him more time in Lily Evans' presence.. Unable to decide, he looked to his mother, and from the Cheshire cat grin on her face, he began to suspect that she was enjoying this chance meeting even more than he was.
"Oh why not," Marla answered for him, rising to her feet. "After all, we can't have the Head Girl showing you up." As she moved to stand beside James, she looked over at Lily and smiled, "You really do look smashing in those robes, dear." Then the two Potters walked over to the rack of men's dress robes, leaving a blushing Lily and her mother behind with Madame Malkin.
"She's right, you know," Betsy said. "Now why don't you change out of those, and we'll get you fitted for a new set of school robes." The shopkeeper took this as her cue to bring over a set of female Hogwarts robes and proceeded to do so while Lily went back to the changing room.
Meanwhile, over at the rack of men's formal wear, Marla was enjoying a good-natured teasing of her son. "I will say the Potter men have excellent taste," she commented, thumbing through the bottom rack, which was the only one she could reach. "She's very pretty, dear, and obviously quite smart."
James merely nodded in reply. While he personally found adjectives like "pretty" and "smart" too mild to adequately describe Lily, he did not think that this was the right time to speak up and say so.
"I'm quite glad we ran into them today, too. I was beginning to think I'd never get to meet the mysterious Lily Evans," Marla continued, unperturbed by his lack of response.
"Well I would have asked her to come home with me ages ago, but I figured she'd get the wrong idea," he smirked.
His mother's only response was to roll her eyes and shake her head. One robe in particular caught her eye, and she stopped browsing, "Ohhh. Look at this one." Reaching up for the hanger, she pulled from the rack a charcoal grey robe that was so dark it was almost black. Although it was obviously wizarding wear, it was styled like a Muggle tuxedo, complete with a black bow tie. "Do you like it? I think you ought to try it on."
James, who really couldn't care less about the dress robes he was supposed to be buying, shrugged, "Looks all right. Sure I'll try it."
While he went back to the changing room, Marla returned to the other side of the store, where Lily was now being fitted for school robes. This time, it was Betsy who initiated conversation. "Do you have any other children?" she asked, turning to smile at her new friend as Marla resumed her former seat on the bench.
"Oh no," Marla responded, "James is our only one. He was a bit of a miracle child himself. What about you?"
"Petunia, my elder daughter, is two years older than Lily," Betsy answered. "She isn't er.. magical though. I suppose, in that sense, Lily is our miracle child." The latter sentence was accompanied by a fond smile as Betsy looked up at her younger daughter.
"She certainly seems to live up to the title," Marla agreed, following the direction of Betsy's gaze to where Lily was standing (and blushing) on the stool. "You'll have to forgive us, Lily," she apologized. "As mothers, our favorite topic of conversation is to brag about our children. But anyway, what about you? Do you have any plans yet for what you'll be doing once you finish at Hogwarts?"
"It's all right," Lily responded, smiling. She didn't really mind when her mother talked about her; it was just a little disconcerting to hear the conversation going on as though she wasn't there. As soon as the topic changed, her expression brightened. "Yes, actually. I'm planning to apply to the Healer training program at St. Mungo's."
"St. Mungo's? Excellent!" Marla answered, visibly impressed. "I'm sure you know that's a difficult program to get into, but I've no doubt you'll be accepted."
"Thanks," Lily said, flashing Marla a grin. "I hope so too."
"This is quite a change of career choice, I'll have you know," Betsy interjected with a teasing smile in Lily's direction. "The whole time she was in primary school, Lily's greatest ambition was to be a famous ballerina when she grew up."
"Was it really?" Marla asked, laughing.
"Yeah. Mum's right," Lily answered. "I wanted to be a ballerina for ages. Until I got to Hogwarts, really."
"You did? And why did you give it up?"
"Well I couldn't take lessons during school. That and.. I guess I realized that there are more er.. meaningful things to do with my life."
"That's certainly admirable," Marla agreed. "What sort of healing do you want to study?"
"Dark Magic Reversal, if I can," said Lily. "I figure that's the most useful sort to study right now."
"Probably," Marla responded, her expression growing a bit saddened at the reference to the war currently wracking the wizarding world. Before she could from a real response, however, she was distracted by the sight of James walking back towards them, clad in the charcoal grey dress robes. "Ohhhh, James! You look dashing. I don't think those even need to be charmed. They fit you perfectly."
And they really did. Even Betsy was nodding along with Marla. For her part, Lily grudgingly agreed with the mothers' assessment, but she was not about to give Potter the satisfaction of hearing her say that aloud.
"Great. So we're done, then?" James asked, unable to keep his face from betraying his hope that this particular errand would soon be over.
"I would say so," his mother replied. "You go change out of those, while I make the purchase, and then we'll go to Flourish and Blotts for your books."
"Oh you're headed there too?" Betsy asked, "Why don't we all four go together? Lily and I have never run into one of her schoolmates while back to school shopping before. It could be fun."
According to the look on James' face, this was quickly shaping up to be one of the best days of his rather young life. He returned to the changing room with a crooked, goofy grin on his face, and ended up tripping over his feet as he attempted to extricate himself from the charcoal robes. While he was wrestling with the unruly fabric, Marla Potter couldn't help but smile at the mother and daughter while Madame Malkin rang up their purchases. She had seen the way James' ears had grown red and his neck had flushed- hard to miss, really- and was indeed quite pleased with the young lady with which her boy was so clearly smitten. Lily, for her part, was handling this development with what grace she could muster. Running into James Potter, of all people, and then finding out he was to be a Head student with her for an entire year was not exactly how she had expected this day - or the next school year, for that matter - to turn out. However, she mused to herself as she waited for her mother to finish their purchase, forewarned is forearmed. And, no matter how much she disliked James' company, Lily was far too polite to let this affect the way she treated him in front of both their mothers, so she resigned herself to a less-than-pleasant shopping experience and the promise of a good story to relate to Marlene and Mary on the train tomorrow morning.
The group left Madame Malkin's, bags in hand, and trooped off to Flourish and Blott's. The mothers of the two accomplished and intelligent students chatted easily, though conversation was a bit more stilted for Lily and James. Any of James' attempts at flirtatious banter were closed down by the girl who clearly was unimpressed by his ever-so-witty observations. Lily was surprised, however, by how much she liked Marla Potter. The woman, whose sparkling blue eyes hinted at inner youth despite her age, was as vibrant as anyone she had ever met. And Besty Evans was all the more convinced as Marla insisted on paying for tea and scones for the lot of them that the Wizarding World was a wonderful place for her beloved child to live in. Thus, when the Potters and Evanses parted ways that evening after a full day of school shopping, all were content.