Harry Potter Histories: Lily Evans and the Wolfsbane Secret

Chapter One - A Spot of Tea

If one would have seen the newspaper that drifted out of Lily Evans's second-story window from any other house on the street, it would have appeared quite ordinary. But as Lily watched The Daily Prophet flutter out the window, she made a desperate grab for it. She knew how different it truly was, and that difference would raise questions if anyone happened to find it lying in the street.

Unfortunately, she leaned a bit too far over her desk and spilled a small jar of ink over the long sheet of parchment on which she had been writing out new potion ideas she wanted to try when she returned to Hogwarts after vacation. Cursing, she drew her wand and held it over the table.

"Bloody hell!" she said, realizing that by the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery she couldn't clean the mess up with the typical incantation of Scourgify!

She didn't even want to think it too strongly, for she was now quite accomplished at nonverbal spells.

Taking one last look out the window at the Prophet, which was fluttering to the ground, Lily crumpled up her parchment and sighed. As she walked outdoors she looked out at the stars, noting the constellations she had studied for so many years at Hogwarts. Her eyes strayed towards Mars, which was quite high and bright in the sky.

As she walked around the side of the house, she thought it was a good thing that it was night. Their neighbors might have found it suspicious for her to go to all this trouble to retrieve a newspaper, which was now stuck atop a high hedge beyond her reach.

A low sound, almost a growl, arose from her throat as she jumped up to reach the paper. In the glow of the streetlamp, she noticed that the figure on the front page looked decidedly frightened and disheveled and was shaking his head back and forth. Its lips even appeared to be sounding out the words, "I don't like heights."

Lily's attention was so affixed upon the newspaper clinging to the top of the hedges that she failed to notice the first light at the end of her street suddenly go out. A small globe of light streaked away from the top of the post and disappeared into the night. The next bulb in line, and then the next, soon followed.

When the light above her grew dark, she whirled around and said, "Who's there?" She heard the soft rustle of footsteps and drew her wand. There are exceptions for underage wizards if they really need to use magic for defense, she tried to reassure herself. She was still considering whether an elementary Lumos spell would suffice when a voice called out in the darkness.

"Accio Daily Prophet," the voice drawled confidently. Lily wrenched her wand in the direction of the voice. Apparently she must have been thinking quite intensely, for the end of her wand suddenly brightened and illuminated a small globe-like area around her.

She quickly flicked it off. I'm not supposed to do that.

"I won't tell if you won't," the voice said, as if reading her thoughts. Another wand lit up in the darkness, and in its light she saw the newspaper sailing into the waiting hand of one of the last people on earth that Lily had expected--or desired--to see.

"Potter?" she blurted, in a tone both astonished and aggrieved. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" After another second she added, "At my house?"

"I just happened to be in the neighborhood," James Potter replied casually. "That light suits your hair, you know." And it was true. The silvery threads of light seemed like fire against the strands of her dark red hair.

Her eyes flashed dangerously as she said, "Watch it, Potter."

"Woah, woah, no need to get hostile with me. I was just paying you a compliment," he said. His smile was slight and momentary, a mere twitch of shadow around the mouth. He brushed a lock of hair away from the side of his face.

"I wouldn't worry about the spellwork, actually. The Ministry knows I've been sent here, so...let's just say the eyes aren't watching as closely as they normally are." He smiled, but after he spoke they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"So," she said, a hint of expectation in her voice.

"So," he said, for the first time sounding a bit uncertain. "Here's your newspaper."

She quickly snatched it from his outstretched hand. As he withdrew it, she saw the long object in his hand. It appeared like an elongated cigarette lighter, although the fine filigree and the spots of rust on the metal engravings gave it the look of a valuable antique.

"No word of thanks?"

"I didn't need your help, thank you very much."

"Oh," he retorted, "So all that jumping was what, a bit of the ol' exercise routine, eh, Evans? That's how you stay in shape over the lazy summer months?"

Lily scowled at him. "I guess lugging around that big head of yours is what keeps you in shape, I'm sure. More than enough exertion, no doubt." She stalked past him back towards the front door.

"So you think I'm in good shape, Evans?" Rather than answer, she tapped her wand irritably against her leg. As the light vanished, James' face and smile vanished into the darkness behind her.

She had just opened the door when he reappeared behind her.

"What, not going to invite an old friend in?"

She started at him. "What did you just call yourself?"

He shrugged. "Why, an old friend. A chum, a pal, a buddy. A peer."

"The only way I'd call you chum is if I was getting ready to throw you into a pack of seals," she said, quite exasperated. But a little voice niggled her instead her head. What was James Potter doing here, in Surrey of all places, this late at night? And why did he have Dumbledore's light-flicker with him?

She needed to get him out of here quickly, before...Too late. As she turned to enter the house, her mother appeared at the door. Mrs. Evans was a kind-looking woman with the slightest hint of laugh lines around her green eyes and an easy smile.

"Lily, why are you standing outside--oh, who is this young man?" Lily couldn't help noticing the glimmer of hope in her mother's eyes as she surveyed him. Oh no. Oh no, no no, she thought. She could imagine her mother sizing him up as a possible romantic interest for her youngest daughter. Lily could remember all of her mother's supposedly subtle inquiries: "So, met any interesting boys at school this past year?"

"Why, hello. I see where Lily gets her beauty," James said smoothly. Her mother covered her mouth and made a little sound. A giggle, Lily realized with astonishment. "The hair must come from her father, I guess." Her mother's hair was a rather dark shade of brown.

"We haven't been introduced, I think," he said. Here he stepped up level with Lily and seemed inclined to wait for her to say something.

She only glared daggers at him. She was definitely not going to introduce him to her mother if she could help it.

Shrugging his shoulders imperceptibly, he continued. "My name is James Potter. I'm in the same year as Lily at Hogwarts. I just happened to be nearby and thought I'd say a quick hello."

"Yes, well, hello, James," Lily said. "If you really want to make it quick, we could say goodbye here as well."

"Lily, don't rush the young man off so quickly!" She groaned as her mother swung the door open. "Oh, you must come in for some tea, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Mrs. Evans."

"Oh, call me Evelyn, I insist you call me Evelyn."

"Thank you Mrs. Ev--Evelyn." And he followed her inside the house.

Lily's mind raced furiously as she watched her mother escort James into the sitting room.

"Gerold, dear, Gerold!" her mother's voice called in the hallway. And then more sternly: "Gerold! I know that taxes are important, but they come once a year. We have a guest I'd like you to meet, he's come from Lily's school."

Putting her head in her hands, she sank into her favorite armchair. Why is this happening to me? she thought. She glared at the source of her troubles and was surprised to find James still standing, looking around rather nervously at the bits of artwork her mother had hung around the room.

Good God, could he actually be nervous? she wondered. But before she had a chance to finish her train of thought, her mother burst into the room, practically dragging Petunia in with her.

"Darling, I just want to have a spot of tea with our visitor, I don't know why you insist on being so stubborn--"

"Mother!" Petunia cried sharply. "I see no reason why I must be forced to have tea with this--this--" Thankfully, she was cut off by the entrance of Mr. Evans, whose broad face was set rather grumpily as he marched into the room. His mustache twitched a bit and his hair seemed all the redder set against his ruddy, well-freckled face.

"A, a guest, you say?" he muttered. "It better not be that man you brought last week to talk to me about toning down my soccer hobby--"

"Dear, didn't you hear me? He's from Lily's school."

She was becoming intensely embarrassed to hear her entire family talking as if both she and James weren't present in the room. Her face only grew redder as her father began resuming the week-long argument that had been the least entertaining bit of dinner-table conversation.

"--saw how quickly he was a therapist," Mr. Evans muttered. "There is nothing wrong with only using a toothpaste that has the Man U. colors--"

He suddenly seemed to realize the young man standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring at the ground and desperately pretending he wasn't hearing the conversation around him.

"But," her father finished, "Let's let bygones be bygones, shall we?" He put an arm around his wife. I want to disappear, right now. I know so many spells, why don't I know one that...could...just...

"So, who do we have here?" Mr. Evans inquired lightly. He glanced at Lily, then at James, and then glanced once more at Lily. And then, to complete the circuit, looked back at his wife and the smile dawning on her face.

No, it's not what you're thinking, dad, no, it's not what you're thinking. She tried to direct the message into his head, but that was beyond the reach of her magical abilities as well.

"My name is James Potter, I'm a student at Hogwarts, same year as your daughter," James said. He extended his hand and shook with Mr. Evans. "Just was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by and say hello."

"I can be off if you're very busy," he added hastily. Again, for a second, she thought he sounded slightly nervous.

"Oh, no, my boy. Nothing at all, just making sure that the old wigs up in London get their due. Nothing I couldn't put aside for company," her father blustered.

"I'll go get us some tea and biscuits!" her mother announced. As she moved towards the kitchen, she shooed Petunia and her husband to the nearby sofa and insisted that James take a seat as well. He sat in a narrow wooden chair partway between Lily and the rest of her family.

"We've, erm, we've never actually had anyone from Lily's school as company, before. Delightful, really. I assume you're a, ah--" Her father wasn't quite sure how to put it as he hemmed and hawed. Petunia's face grew increasingly horse-like as she twisted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Yes, I am," James interjected politely. He glanced askance at Petunia, whose odd behavior he had noticed. His eyes flicked back to Lily for a second, and then returned to her father.

"You must be very proud of Lily," he said. "She's the brightest witch in our class, you know." At the mention of the word witch, Petunia hissed audibly. James turned with a puzzled expression on his face and Lily was about to interject to ward off the inevitable explosion when her mother returned.

"Oh, I didn't know what kind of cakes you liked so I threw a little of everything on there," she announced breezily as she swept into the room and put the tray down on the table. Lily couldn't help noticing that her mother had decided to bring out the fine silverware, which had the old Evans crest on it.

"Oh, you didn't have to go to the trouble," James said. He reached for a small pastry. "Treacle tarts are my favorite."

"Really?" Mrs. Evans asked eagerly. "Lily's quite fond of them as well, I know."

"I think I'll actually have a butterscotch today," she said, her eyes conveying a warning to her mother. But Mrs. Evans just gave her a quick wink, as if to say, Oh, I won't embarrass you.

"So James, how long have you known Lily?"

He tried to chew and swallow his last bite of tart at the same time before answering, which only resulted in a hacking cough. Mr. Evans reached over and pounded him a few times on the back.

"Guess you magic folk still can eat too fast, eh?" he joked. "Relax, son, take your time."

James nodded and then answered Mrs. Evans's question by saying, "Well, I think I've known Lily for six years now. Since our first year at school, you know. I still remember it like it was yesterday, you know. I'm sure you don't want to hear the story..."

"No, I'm sure we don't need to," Lily muttered hastily. Her mother, naturally, demanded that he continue.

"Ah, well. So we're going up to the dormitory after our first dinner there, and we're all looking around at the paintings, they have the most wonderful paintings at Hogwarts--"

"Really? Any artists we'd know?"

"I'm sure there are some, there's a da Vinci with this airplane design he invented. Of course in the painting it shows the thing flying, flapping its wings and all that, although I heard he never managed to get it off the ground in real life..." He realized that they were staring at him and coughed politely.

"Anyways, as I was saying, we're heading up to the Gryffindor dormitory. By then we've already raced ahead of the prefects, me and some other boys who I'd met on the train. And then we get there and realize we don't know the password.

So we tried to wheedle our way in, because really the Fat Lady--"

"Fat Lady?" her father interjected.

"The, erm, the one we give the password to," James explained, perhaps realizing it would be wise not to mention that she was in fact a sentient portrait.

"Let's just say she's not immune to flattery. We told her how pretty her dress looked and how we really were first-years, so there was no reason we would try to sneak in anywhere but our own house dorms, especially on the first night. And we even showed her the Gryffindor badges on our robes. But she wouldn't believe us.

And then along comes this girl--" Here he glanced back at Lily. "Cool as ice, she walks up to the portrait and says, 'I'm sorry you boys can't get in, but move out of the way.'

So we asked who she thought she was, and she said, perfectly calmly, 'Lily Evans. Now watch.' Oh, this one's good. She says, 'Open Sesame!' Of course the door doesn't open. So she says it again, but louder this time. 'Open Sesame!' And when she couldn't get in she looked furious and turned back to us and said, 'That's the way the cave opened in the story!'

By now we were laughing a little bit. So she turned to the door and screamed as loud as you could, 'Open up, you stupid door!' I think everyone in the school heard her. And finally the door swings open and the Fat Lady is trembling there and whispering, 'My word.' But she let us in. And didn't ask anyone for the password again for a month."

By this point Mr. Evans was laughing quite heartily, and Mrs. Evans was brushing tears out of her eyes. James leaned back and chuckled at the memory. "That was the first lesson I learned in Hogwarts, you know. I realized that there is always a way to get where you're going, magical or not."

"Oh my, yes, Lily was always a girl who knew what she wanted," Mrs. Evans said. "That does sound like you, dear."

Lily turned to James and whispered softly, "I'm surprised you remember when we first met."

"Well, how could I forget?" he asked teasingly. At this, Petunia started so violently that she spilled tea all over the front of her white blouse.

And then Lily watched with dread as James pulled out his wand casually and made the worst mistake possible.

"No worries," he reassured her, "It's just a spot of tea, that'll come out in a sec--"

All hell burst loose as Petunia shrieked, shooting out and slapping away James's wand. On the backhand she caught his face, and with a surprised expression he fell back and tripped over his own chair. Lily was already shooting out of her seat, as were her parents, so James fell onto her calves and she toppled as well. One of their legs caught the tea cozy and it shot up in the air.

As it fell she heard James cry out, "Wingardium leviosa!" Abruptly the whole assembly stopped in midair and hung there as if frozen. Mr. Evans was gazing in astonishment, while Mrs. Evans began hastily plucking biscuits out of midair and replacing them on the tray. Petunia had already run out of the room and stormed upstairs.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Mrs. Evans said.

"I'm--I'm sorry, Mrs. Evans, I'm really sorry--" Lily saw that James had a genuinely repentant expression as the two of them rose of the ground and dusted themselves off. In fact, it was harder to tell who looked sorrier at the moment: James, Lily, or Mrs. Evans.

"No, no, dear, we're the ones who should be sorry. And call me Evelyn, remember. It's just that--Lily's sister hasn't adjusted well to her...special abilities. She doesn't like seeing them used, and--"

"No, I understand, that was really stupid of me. I should have realized that's not how you normally do things and it would seem strange, I'm really--"

He lapsed into silence and all four of them looked nervously around the room.

"Anyways," he finally announced. "I really have to get going--" Her parents quickly tried to reassure him that nothing was wrong and urged him to sit down again, but he waved them off.

"No, really, I just wanted to stop off and say hi. Oh, and also I have some news for Lily." With this he turned to her and said, "The owls at Hogwarts have all taken ill for some reason, they're refusing to fly so they couldn't send you notice. I'm not sure if you've heard already otherwise, but Dumbledore thought I could come along and tell you in person. Unless you already know, of course, about, you know--"

Lily was genuinely puzzled. Owls sick? News from Hogwarts so important that Dumbledore would have wanted it delivered in person? That explained how he had the light-flicker. But why him, of all people? A hundred questions raced through her mind.

"No," she answered, trying to remove all hints of apprehension from her voice. "I haven't heard. What is it?"

"It's not bad news," he reassured her. Apparently he could see the worry written on her face. "Rather the opposite, actually. You see, you've been made--you're the new--" He seemed to be having trouble saying it.

Finally he got it out. "You're Head Girl! Anyways, I'm sure the news can't be that big a surprise to you..." His voice tailed off awkwardly as he reached inside the light jacket he was wearing. He seemed to have some problem with the zipper and frowned at it.

This gave Lily a chance to compose herself. Truth be told, the announcement did surprise her quite a bit. She had never expected to be Head Girl. To her there always seemed to be people ahead of her, people who had known about magic for their entire lives who always nodded when they were being taught a new spell because they had seen their parents do it. Her first year at Hogwarts, it had sometimes felt as if people were speaking an entirely different language, one that she could never unravel. Head Girl, the voice in her mind whispered, full of wonder.

Unfortunately she didn't have a great deal of time to contemplate it, as she suddenly found herself encompassed by her mother and father's gigantic embrace.

"Oh, honey, we're so proud of you!" they both said together. Her father looked quite fierce, with that light shining from his eyes and his complexion growing even brighter. Then Lily looked down and realized her mother was crying in her arms.

"Mum, it's okay, there's no need to--"

She looked quickly at James to see whether he was laughing at her family, but he appeared to be merely waiting. The smile on his face was not as mocking as the expression she was more accustomed to seeing on his lips. He looked like he was happy for them.

And for the first time that evening she realized that something very dramatic had changed James Potter since she had last seen him.

She stroked her mother's hair while she sobbed and her father tried to explain, whispering in her ear. "It's been hard for her, you know, sending you off knowing we won't really have you back in the house until next summer. She loves you. So much. And I do too." He pressed a soft kiss against her hair.

"We're so proud of you, honey," he said. They stood there, together, for quite some time.

Finally, her mother drew away and turned to James. "Oh, I'm sorry, James, this must be so terribly awkward for you to be seeing our family like this. You must think we are the strangest family in all of England. We've been such a display tonight, I'm afraid. I'm sure Lily must almost be dying of embarrassment by now--"

He laughed it off. "No, no, it's fine. You don't know strange until you live with wizards for a few years. Besides, it makes me feel like part of the family. Oh, and before I forget--" He drew his hand out of his pocket (finally having managed to unzip his coat) and pulled out a badge adorned with the letters HG, an elaborate red weave upon a golden background.

"Thanks," she said softly as he pressed it into her palm. "I'm not sure I deserve this."

He scoffed, "Like they could find someone better." She noticed how her parents swelled with pride at this comment.

"Well, like I said, I'll be going now--" Mr. and Mrs. Evans drowned out his last words by insisting that he stay the night, with her mother explaining how the guest bedroom was quite delightful and her father warning him of how dangerous road conditions could be in the area at nighttime.

"It's the fog, you see, it creeps in--"

"--and we can find you towels and there's extra soap and shampoo in the cupboard and--"

"Thank you very much, but I really do need to be going. And we, ahem, don't exactly travel by car, so it'll be somewhat easier for me to be on my way. Fog won't stop me," he declared with a little laugh.

Her parents continued to protest, redoubling their efforts. But finally they resigned themselves to the fact that he was set on his course of action and they relented--although not before her mother convinced him to take another tart "for the road." Even if that wasn't the way he was going to be traveling.

Lily walked him out to the front door. As he stepped down he nodded to her and said, "See you at Hogwarts, Evans."

"Hey," she called out as he left. "I forgot to ask. Who's Head Boy, then?"

When the question left her lips, she watched as the old wicked grin appeared on his face and she knew the answer. To that question, at least, of the many that were floating in her mind.

"Does this mean you'll have to behave yourself now?" she asked his fading outline, already knowing it was too much to hope for.

"Oh no," he answered, his voice drifting oddly across the yard. With every click of his finger another light came back to life. "That would be too much to ask of me." He lightly tapped two fingers against his head and gave her a little salute, and then vanished. The last thing she saw was the shadow of his smile.