Tattered and Torn

Lily couldn't believe she was on Privet Drive again. The day she and Petunia had fought as teenagers, things had been said that could not be rescinded. Furious, Lily had avowed that she would never set foot on her sister's threshold until Petunia apologised; Petunia, for her part, had refused to allow Lily on her doorstep until Lily took back what she'd said. Lily had, for years, refused to apologise, but the memory of the anguish in her son's eyes was enough to bring her back.

But, as she approached Number Four, sudden misgivings seized her. Petunia's only child, as Lily well knew, was Dudley, who was a few weeks older than Harry. However, seated on the front porch of Number Four was a teenage girl roughly Harry's age, with bushy brown hair, serious brown eyes, and a rather pale face. She was immersed in a book.

Lily paused a few steps from the porch and cleared her throat. "Erm...excuse me," she said hesitantly.

The girl looked up in mild surprise, obviously startled out of her book. She relaxed a little when she saw Lily and only returned. "He isn't here."

"Oh, then I--wait, what?" Lily said, startled.

The girl looked up. "Harry isn't here," she repeated.

Lily frowned. "How did you know I was going to ask about Harry?"

"You're his--he's your son. Of course you were going to ask about him."

Lily took a few steps closer to the porch. "So you know my Harry?"

"Of course," the girl replied, returning to her book. "We've been best friends since Halloween of our first year. I guess we're sort of...well, he's been calling me his girlfriend for the past few days, so I guess we've taken a step or two up in our relationship."

Scarcely realising what she was doing, Lily sat down next to the girl on the step. "Glad that Halloween means something good to Harry."

The girl glanced over the edge of her book again. "Why are you still here?"

Lily was surprised at the girl's accusing tone. "What do you mean?"

"I already told you that Harry isn't here. Why are you hanging about?"

"Maybe I want to talk to my sister."

"If you wanted to talk to Petunia you would've knocked by now rather than sit down."

Lily had to admit, the girl had a point. Still..."Why are you being so defensive?"

The girl laid her book facedown on her lap, marking her place. "Because quite frankly, Mrs. Potter, I don't like you."

That wasn't what Lily had in mind at all. "Why not? We've barely met!"

The girl met Lily's eyes coldly. "Because I just can't believe that you, someone who was supposed to love Harry more than anyone else in the world, simply abandoned him when he needed you the most. Because even though you thought he was dead, you walked away from where he was and didn't even stick around to see his funeral. Because you left him abandoned here"--she waved back at the house--"for fifteen years. Because of every tear he's cried, every hardship he's undergone, every loss he's suffered and every pain he's had to bear alone. Because deep down inside, he's a scared little boy who just needs someone to love him and it's been denied him for almost his entire life. Because now he's afraid to love anyone. Because I love him and I don't want him hurt ever again. That's why."

Lily was silent for a long moment. After a second or two, she said softly, "Friend, you dislike me for the same reason I hate myself."

Now it was the girl's turn to be surprised. "What?"

"Do you know what I've told myself every morning for the past fifteen years, looking into the mirror in my bedroom? That I'm wicked, evil, black and rotten. That only if I beg for forgiveness will God consider casting his mercy on my miserable lot. That I'm a damned heartless hind for abandoning my family--as you said--when they needed me the most." Lily brushed a stubborn tear out of her eye. "Dead or alive, no one deserves that. I'm sorry I left him--but please understand, I've been sorry I walked out on them for the past fifteen years. That's why I stayed with the preacher's family, why I didn't tell them my real name. Because I thought if I pretended I didn't have a past, it wouldn't ever catch up with me and I wouldn't have to come back here and find my baby's grave."

The girl swallowed hard; Lily realised that she, too, was blinking back tears. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I had no right to yell at you like that. It's just...Harry's gone through enough hell in the past two months to last him the rest of his life, however long or short it may be. I don't want him to get hurt any more than he already has been. And I was afraid that you'd only want him back because he was your son, not because he was Harry." She paused, as if embarrassed. "If that makes any sense."

"No, it makes perfect sense." Lily gave the girl a shaky smile. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, so...let's try again." She held out her hand. "Hi! I'm Lily Evans Potter. You can just call me Lily, though."

The girl managed to smile back and shook Lily's hand. "I'm Hermione Jane Granger. You can call me Hermione."

"Nice to meet you, Hermione." Lily pushed a loose strand of long red hair out of her face. "So...er...where is Harry anyway?"

"St. Mungo's," Hermione answered, the smile fading from her face. "Same place he's been all week."

"Is he all right?" Lily asked in alarm.

"Physically, yes. Mentally...I don't know."

"He's in Janus Thickey?"

"No, no," Hermione said hastily. "No, Harry isn't the patient. He's there to see Remus Lupin."

Lily's eyebrows shot up. "Remus is in St. Mungo's? What happened to him?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Death Eater attack, about a week ago. He was helping to clean up afterwards...the Death Eaters who did it, though, were still in the area. One grabbed him right over the heart."

"What about that hurt him so badly?"

"Well, it was Peter Pettigrew, and he has a silver hand."

Lily jolted. "Peter's a Death Eater? For how long?"

"Sixteen years," Hermione said quietly. "He was the spy--the one working for Voldemort. Sirius said he'd been passing information on to Voldemort for a year before you...well, you know."

Lily balled her hands into fists. "I knew we shouldn't have trusted that...that plague rat. But no, they said--it's for the best, they said--they'll never know, they said. And I believed them!" She was close to tears again.

"They believed themselves," Hermione said gently. "We all believed them until...well, until almost the end of our third year. Long story, but Sirius has a lot to do with it."

Lily nodded and took a deep breath. "I...how is Sirius?"

"Dead," Hermione said softly. "He died last month...he was killed by his cousin, trying to protect Harry."

Lily bit her lip hard. "Oh, poor Harry. He must've been devastated."

Hermione nodded. "He was. That's why I said I didn't know if he was mentally all right or not. He and Remus and Sirius were...well, they were a family. When Sirius died, it was like a big part of them, an irreplaceable third of their lives, was ripped away. Harry and Remus have grown a lot closer since then...and if anything happens to Remus, I don't know what will happen to Harry. Too many knocks in a lifetime, I think it's called. Harry's strong--he can take a lot--but I don't think he can take this, not on top of everything else."

Lily put her head in her hands. "What a time for all this to be happening, right when he's trying to get used to the fact that James and I aren't dead and Sirius is. That's too much stress for anyone to take. Poor Harry."

Hermione offered Lily a half-smile and dog-eared the page of her book. "I definitely changed my mind--I do like you."

"What makes you say that now, pray tell?"

"Well, you're taking what's going on and thinking in terms of how it affects Harry, how it must make Harry feel. James, on the other hand, took what was going on, thought of it briefly in terms of how it affected himself, then pushed it aside." A hint of bitterness crept into Hermione's voice. "He's been by every day, asking where Harry is and when he'll be back--which, by the way, I don't know, he keeps erratic hours. Not once has James asked how Remus is doing, what room he's in, mentioned going to see him."

Lily was reluctant to admit that James was capable of what Hermione was implying. "He probably doesn't think he knows you well enough to talk about Remus."

"I doubt that, since I'm the reason he knows." Hermione brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I'm sorry, I just...I don't know why, but I don't like him at all. Maybe it's the fact that he doesn't seem sorry about leaving Harry."

Lily swallowed and changed the subject a bit. "So...how is Remus doing, anyway?"

"Not very well, from what Harry's told me. They didn't expect him to survive this long. He hasn't been getting any better...but then again, he hasn't been getting any worse either, so I guess that's good."

"Better than nothing," Lily agreed. She squinted up at the overcast sky. "It's going to start raining soon...I hope Harry doesn't have to walk home in it."

"So do I," Hermione answered softly. "The last thing he needs right now is a cold."

"There are a lot of things Harry doesn't need right now. I think a cold is far from the last." Lily glanced down at Hermione's book. "What are you reading, anyway?"

Hermione held up the paperback tome. "It's called The Riddle of the Wren. By Charles De Lint."

"You like Charles De Lint? No way." Lily reached for the book. "He's one of my favourite authors. Have you ever read Wolf Moon?"

"Mmm-hmm. That was the first one I read. I'm trying to convince Harry to read it, but he doesn't exactly have the time--or the energy--right now." Hermione handed over The Riddle of the Wren. "I like this one, too. This is the third one I've read."

Lily's eyes shone greener than ever, a sure sign she was jealous. "I've only read Wolf Moon. What's the other one you've read?"

Hermione grinned. "The Harp of the Grey Rose. That one was good too."

"Do you read fantasy a lot?" Lily wanted to know. "I knew a lot of people at school who wouldn't read fantasy just because the spells were different."

"Yes, I've read quite a bit," Hermione answered with a smile. "Raymond Feist is one of my favourite authors, always has been. My father tried to get me interested in Robert Jordan, but that isn't the sort of thing I enjoy. I prefer Robert Aspirin, and I'm not overly fond of him either."
"The M.Y.T.H.-Inc. books?" Lily nodded. "I've read a few of them myself. Which ones have you read?"

"Just the first two. I kind of lost interest after that." Hermione drew her feet up as a few raindrops began falling. "Do you like fantasy?"

"Mmm-hmm, though I've always preferred Mercedes Lackey myself. And Elizabeth Moon...she's pretty good." Lily glanced at The Riddle of the Wren. "Do you play any musical instruments?"

Hermione shook her head. "No...why, do you?"

"Violin since I was five," Lily answered. "And I've played the piano since I was twelve. Took lessons during the school year."

Hermione looked up in surprise. "How?"

Lily smiled, remembering. "Well...you know the school has a choir, right? I can't sing to save my life, so I never did it. But one night I was passing down the hallway and I heard someone playing the most beautiful song I'd ever heard in my life. It was Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, but I'd never heard it played like that--the pianist was improvising and adding these rippling little counter-melodies all over the place. I was stunned...so I stopped in to listen. The pianist offered to let me play, and when I admitted that I didn't know how he offered to teach me. I took lessons from him for six years. I suppose I managed to get something out of it--I'm the pianist for the little church in the village now."

Hermione smiled. "That's neat. Who was it?"

"Remus."

Hermione's smile faded. "I didn't know he played."

Lily shook her head. "You wouldn't. He was always secretive about himself...but then, he respected other people's privacy too." She grew quiet as she thought back to the shy, serious young boy she had first met at Hogwarts. What little she had seen of him, he didn't seem to have changed much, except that he had grown older. Except...except that he had stopped her from running straight to Harry when she found out he was alive. The Remus Lupin she remembered wouldn't have even tried--he would have been too timid. "Tell me, Hermione," she said softly and unexpectedly. "What's he like these days?"

Hermione looked a little uncomfortable as she shook her head. "I really don't know him that well. He's kind and thoughtful and he loves Harry--that much is obvious. But as to what he's really like, you'd have to ask--"

"Harry," Lily completed.

"And he won't talk to you, not if Remus is too badly hurt."

Lily looked at Hermione in surprise. "Why not?"

"Because that's how Harry is," Hermione explained. "He still won't talk about Sirius, you know--he's just hurting too badly. It makes him uncomfortable, even just hearing about him, and...well, he's trying not to let it take over his life, but it's hard, you know?"

"I understand," Lily said quietly. "Petunia and I went through the same thing when our father died."

"How old were you?" Hermione asked, looking up at Lily.

"I was fourteen. Petunia was seventeen."

"I didn't know that," Hermione said in surprise.

Lily also looked rather surprised. "Petunia never told you?"

"She doesn't talk much about the past. I always got the impression she was trying to escape it."

Lily chuckled. "Must be an Evans family trait. I've been doing the same thing for fifteen years."

"Doesn't work, does it, Lily?" a new voice said. It sounded familiar to Lily, but...older, wearier, with a matriarchal twang to it. "Trying to hide from the past. No matter how fast you run, where you try to hide...it has a way of sneaking up on you and tackling you while you're looking the other way, doesn't it?"

Lily stood slowly and turned to face the tall, blonde woman in the doorway. "Petunia?"

The sisters stared at each other for a moment or two. Then, slowly, Lily extended her hand. "Petunia...I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I didn't mean to say what I did...I should have listened to what you had to say. I really didn't intend any harm."

Petunia stared at her sister's hand for a minute, then reached out, grasped it, and shook it. "I'm the one who ought to apologise, Lily. I didn't intend to call James a conniving little pig."

"No, I'm sure there were a thousand worse epithets you thought of to call him, but they slipped your mind," Lily said with a warm smile. Petunia laughed and embraced her younger sister. "Gosh all hemlock, Penny, but I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Lils," Petunia choked. "At least you didn't think I was dead, though..."

"There is that." Lily drew back. "You thought I was?"

Petunia shook her head. "Harry...when that Dumbledore person of yours left him on our porch, the note he had with him said you and James were dead. Everyone thought you were dead."

Lily's eyebrows shot up. "Dumbledore didn't even wait to make sure he got inside before leaving him?"

"I'm sure he had things to be doing." Petunia squinted into the rain. "Harry not back yet?"

"Not yet," Hermione answered. "You know him, though, he'll be at the hospital until the nurses throw him out."

Lily shook her head. "He's taking this hard, isn't he?"

"He's pretty worried," agreed Petunia.

"He's terrified," Hermione said quietly. "If Remus dies...I don't know what's going to happen to him."

Lily groaned softly. "And if you don't know, who does?"

Petunia looked over at her sister and frowned slightly. "Lily," she began slowly.

Lily looked up. "Yes?"

"Did you brush your hair this morning?"

That had to have been the biggest non-sequitor Lily had ever heard. "Yes, of course I did."

"What are you using, a doll brush?" Petunia asked, frowning again.

"No," Lily replied, a slight frown creasing her own features. "I'm using an actual human hair brush."

"One of those El Cheapo drugstore brushes, I shouldn't wonder," Petunia snorted.

"So what?" Lily snapped. "It's a good little brush. It works fine."

"How long have you had it?" Petunia demanded sceptically.

"Petunia, it works fine."

"How long, Lillian Agatha Mary?"

Lily winced at the use of her middle names. "Ten years."

"Ten ye--good heavens, Lily," Petunia said in exasperation. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Lily gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes theatrically as Petunia swirled inside. Five seconds later she was back with a stiff brush and a hair elastic. She handed both of these to Lily. "Take them and use them. Starting now."

Lily held up the elastic. "What am I supposed to use this for? A bracelet?"

"Good Lord Almighty, girl, don't you know how to braid hair?"

"I never could braid, Penny, you know that." Lily held up her hands. "All thumbs. At one time literally, thanks to James Potter."

Hermione bit back a giggle. Petunia sighed and took the elastic. "Brush your hair, then I'll braid it for you. As usual."

Lily began brushing her hair, but she had barely touched the brush to her head when Petunia's sharp voice stopped her. "Lily, what are you doing?"

Lily huffed in exasperation. "Brushing my hair?"

"From the top?"

"If I brush it the other way it makes it knottier."

"Don't get smart with me, Lily. Hand over that brush. Obviously I can't trust you to take care of your own hair. Mother would have a fit!"

Lily rolled her eyes for Hermione's benefit as Petunia took a seat behind her.

"And don't roll your eyes at me, young lady."

Hermione laughed. Lily chuckled as well. "I swear, we're going to be little old ladies in a nursing home somewhere and Petunia will still be brushing my hair for me."

"Washing it too, from the looks of it," Petunia fussed. "What on Earth are you washing it with, soap?"

"No, I'm washing it with vegetable oil," Lily snapped. "Of course I'm using soap. What do you use?"

"That's not what I mean, Lily. I mean are you using hand soap instead of shampoo?"

Lily looked revolted. "People actually do that? No, I use actual shampoo. But I don't use conditioner...too expensive."
"Lily..."

"Petunia, I'm a piano teacher. I don't exactly get massive amounts of money for that."

Hermione chuckled. Petunia continued fussing over Lily's ruddy locks, and Lily continued putting up with it. Together, the three women peered through the pouring rain for any sign of a lonely boy with messy hair and sad green eyes.