The Parents Who Died

The Parents Who Died: Part III of Tale #1

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This is the season of hope

It had been a month since that fateful day the sixth year project had been assigned. Although seeing James had become a daily occurrence, Lily could still hardly stand him. She was growing used to his being annoying, though, and was becoming a quite good smacker; hanging out with James could do that to a fiery redhead like Lily.

Lily was incredibly relieved when Christmas break came around, though. Two whole weeks away from James... Lily sighed. Heaven.

It was amazing how being separated from something for a while could make its returning become like heaven. After all, Lily had kept quite a distance from James (beside classes and Quidditch) for the past five years. It’d become daily and expected: no James.

But now just two weeks of no-James was like receiving ten million Christmas gifts.

Lily was humming while she got off Hogwarts Express at Platform 9¾ in London. She swung her traveling bag over her shoulder and tossed her long mane of hair as she practically skipped toward the barrier between Muggles and magic.

No James Potter for two weeks...

She stepped through the wrought-iron gate into the Muggle world and, with a whoosh of bitter cold air and carts carrying luggage, Lily was there.

Hogwarts students going home for the holidays filtered out after her and jostled her as they made their way to families. Some she knew, who called out to her as they left; some she didn’t.

Padmavati appeared at her side, out of breath and looking very ruffled. She grabbed Lily’s shoulder to steady herself. "You left me!" she accused, glaring up at Lily.

"Oh, sorry," Lily said, though she looked hardly sincere. "My bad."

"You’re in Never-Never Land," Padmavati commented, releasing her hold of Lily and straightening her bag strap. "You have a funny glaze in your eyes. Almost like...you’re in love..."

Lily snorted, eyes scanning the mob of people for her parents. "And now here comes the, ‘You love James Potter and you know it!’ part..."

Padmavati huffed. "You know it’s true."

"Padma, my dear friend, I am in love, I admit it."

Padmavati looked triumphant.

"In love with the fact that I will not see the perverted, creepy b****** for a whole two weeks," finished Lily, grinning. She patted Padmavati’s shoulder. "Merry Christmas, short-stuff."

Pushing her way through the crowd, Lily left Padmavati to fend for herself.

It was slow progress, what with all the Christmas travelers, but Lily soon found a clearing and spotted her mother and father, standing by the entrance into King’s Cross station.

"Mum!" she called, waving wildly. "Dad!"

They looked to her simultaneously, and the next instant, Lily found herself wrapped in her mother’s warm, perfume-y embrace. "Lily," she said into her daughter’s hair. "I’ve missed you!"

Lily struggled against her mother as she was being strangled, and after a moment, was released. Her mother’s eyes were red and puffy now, but she was smiling a watery smile as she wiped them with a tissue. "You’ve grown so much," sniffed Mum.

"Thanks," Lily said, laughing. "I’ll just take that a compliment."

She turned to her dad.

He held out his arms invitingly, and she hugged him. He wasn’t as fierce as her mother was. "How’s my tiger?" he asked, holding her out at arm’s length. "Your mum’s right. You’re huge!"

"Gee," said Lily, rolling her eyes, "thanks."

Her father laughed and ruffled her hair. "That’s my girl." He took her bag from her shoulders, and, with her mother’s arm around her protectively, Lily followed him to their car out of the station.

"Where’s Petunia?" Lily asked of her big sister. She didn’t really care, as long as Petunia wasn’t there, but she figured her parents would appreciate her asking.

The Evans exchanged a look. "Well, dear, your sister had something to attend to today," said her mother slowly and carefully. "She couldn’t make it."

"She’s truly sorry," offered her dad.

Lily smiled (secretly gagging at this act), and said, "Oh, that’s okay. I can understand her being busy."

"Let’s not talk about Petunia, now," said her father, looking around at his youngest daughter. "Let’s talk about you. How’s school going?"

"Fine. I have the top grades..."

"Do you really?" asked her mother, eyes wide. She squeezed Lily’s shoulders. "Oh, baby, that’s wonderful."

Hah! Compete to that, Mr. Potter, she thought snidely. I have the highest marks and I’ll keep it like that, thank you very much.

But at the same time she was wondering why she was thinking about James. This was her Potter-free week! No more James!

* * * * *

Petunia was tall and willowy with yellow blonde hair, blue eyes, and a large, horse-like face. She could have managed to pass as pretty, Lily knew, even with that horse-like face, had she smiled more and giggled less. Maybe not spoken at all, either, because Petunia hardly ever had anything intelligent to say. She was just another dumb blonde.

When Lily and her parents entered the Evans home, they discovered Petunia sprawled out on a sofa in the living room, TV switched on and phone in hand, yakking with a friend about the latest gossip. She was dressed in some blue corduroys, flecked with flint, and a Christmas sweater covered in mothballs. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a would-be fashionable do had it not been on her, and she wore way too much makeup. Lily thought she looked horrible; but by the looked on her face, Petunia thought she looked like a super model.

She afforded a glance up at her parents and a scowl at her younger sister as they entered the house before turning back to her friend, Violet (who Lily remembered to be a slut, for lack of better terminology).

Dad set Lily’s bag down in the foyer, put his hands on his hips, and looked to Petunia, reproaching. "Petunia. Off the phone."

"But Dad," wailed Petunia.

"No buts. Just off."

Petunia made a big show of huffing and whining, but then acceded to her father’s orders and said bye to Violet. She dropped the receiver into the cradle with a loud, plastic clank. Then she looked lazily at her family. 

"So?"

Mum and Dad looked from one girl to the next, trying to force them to be friendly. 

Lily stood in the doorway, arms folded, and an obstinate look on her face. She, in contrast to Petunia, was a dressed simply and nicely in jeans and a turtleneck. Her hair was in a ponytail and her face wasn’t caked in any makeup but Chap Stick. "Hello, Petunia," she said dully. 

Petunia’s eyes skimmed over Lily and a dainty, obviously drawn eyebrow rose. She didn’t respond.

"Dear, this is the time to say, ‘Hello, Lily,’" said their father slowly and deliberately. "Can you say that? ‘Hello, Lily.’"

Still no response.

"You’re impossible!" cried their mother, throwing up her arms. "This is your baby sister, Petunia, and she’s been away at boarding school for the past half year and you can’t even say hello?"

"No," said Petunia, turning to the TV. "She’s no sister of mine. I’m not related in anyway to what she is."

Angry but not shocked, Lily bent and picked up her bag. She made her way by Petunia’s couch to the staircase leading to the next floor. "And you know what, Petunia? Not being your sister, I’m quite relieved. Who’d want to be related to a horse-faced prude like yourself?"

"Lily!" admonished her mother.

* * * * *

Lily loved her bedroom at home. Maybe this had to do with the fact that she hardly saw it, but she simply adored it. She’d helped design it, and it was all blues and yellows with lily designs on it.

The walls were light blue, the ceiling was the same, only speckled with fluffy cotton ball clouds. Her bedspread was light blue with a huge lily on it. Her carpet was fluffy and butter yellow. She had a nice-sized oak desk in one corner that she’d gotten when she’d gone to Muggle school and huge white-pine bookshelf jam-packed with all her favorite books. Her nightstand was white and wicker and on it sat a blue lamp with a white shade embroidered with tiny lilies. 

It was always clean now that the one living in it came only sporadically, and Lily absolutely loved entering it again. It smelled and looked so immaculate. Never stayed that way for long, but still...on the first days of her visits, she was bathed in its cleanliness.

She lay on her bed, hands under her head, staring at the ceiling with her stereo belting out Christmas songs (‘Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way...’), the window open to let in the bitter cold air Lily loved so but couldn’t experience at Hogwarts as she shared a room with Padmavati and Kaye, thinking, letting her mind wander. It hopped around to just about every subject, from what Padmavati was doing with her grandparents in India, to why Kaye went to Hogwarts when she was from Japan, to Sirius Black’s insanity and how he would drive his grandparents crazy over Christmas (his parents had been killed by Death Eaters a year before, and Lily could put up with him mainly out of sympathy), to, horribly enough, what James Potter was doing as they only Gryffindor sixth year who stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas (which was odd, as both his parents were alive and some of the nicest people Lily knew, and as he had a huge mansion-of-a-house to go home to).

Lily moaned loudly and buried her face in her pillow. "Go away," she muttered.

Over the sound of the stereo, Lily heard her door creak open, jarring her from thoughts of killing James Potter. She picked her face off the pillow and looked up to find her eighteen-year-old sister standing in her threshold.

"What?" Lily said lazily, sitting up and brushing static-y strands of red hair from her eyes. "What do you want?"

"Horse-faced?" Petunia said as she stepped into Lily’s room with her hands on her hips. "I am not horse-faced."

"Good for you," said Lily agreeably, hitting the side of her head to kick images of Potter out (ugh, she thought, see what happens when I see him every day? He’s clingy...he won’t go away!)

"I’m pretty," said Petunia sharply, angry that her pronouncement wasn’t riveting to her little sister. 

"Sure," said Lily, giving up on hitting the side of her head. "And I’m ugly and pinch-nosed, right?" She rolled her eyes. "Petunia, dear, I’ve heard this speech every time I’ve come home."

Petunia went on, unfazed. "Yes, you’re horrid. And I’m gorgeous. I have a boyfriend."

"Yay," said Lily.

"And you don’t."

"Precisely. Petunia, I’m shocked at how brilliant you’ve grown. Can you say your ABC’s now?"

"I won’t have to see you ever again in a year," went on Petunia. "Less than a year, actually."

"Wonderful!" cried Lily. She jumped up. "Magnificent!" She stopped. "So you won’t be living off Mum and Dad? What, you’re going to college?"

"Of course not," snipped Petunia. She tossed her head (she even acts like a horse, thought Lily). "I’m getting married."

"Who the hell would marry you?" Lily said before she could stop herself.

Petunia made a face. "Any man in his right mind."

"So who’s the ‘lucky’ man?" asked Lily. "Is he retarded or something?"

"No, he’s not! He’s brilliant and gorgeous and wouldn’t ever mess with the likes of who you’ll marry, and I doubt you ever will."

"Whatever," said Lily. An image of James had somehow crawled into her mind. Her face flushed. She mentions marriage and he comes around? Augh. Lily suspected there was something wrong with her.

She plopped down on her bed, waiting for Petunia to leave.

But, even though she hated her sister to pieces, Petunia’s love of gossip held her glued in the room. She pulled out Lily’s chair and sat down. "So," said Petunia.

"So what?"

"Any...um...guys in your life?" Petunia wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Any cute...um...’wizards’ out there?"

Lily slowly raised her eyes and looked to Petunia with a glint of malice. "Petunia...dear sister...lovely...darling...honey...if there was, do you really think I’d feed your gossip hole to satisfy you?"

"Fine," said Petunia, standing in anger. Her eyes flashed. "I’m trying to be sisterly, and this is what I—"

"You weren’t being sisterly," snapped Lily. "You were sticking your big, horse-like nose in my business just because you’re so damn nosy. Now get out of my room and nose into someone else’s business, because you aren’t getting any juicy gossip out of your freak of a sister."

With a glared and a huff, Petunia flounced out. Lily slammed the door so hard behind her that her bookcase rumbled.

Leaning against the shut door with her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive way, Lily glared out the window at an image of James Potter in her mind. So...any...um...guys in your life? Any cute...um...’wizards’ out there?

"Yeah right," said Lily, hitting her head. "James Potter, leave me the hell alone."

* * * * *

Present opening in the Evans house took place on Christmas Eve. Church was attended at seven, and then a big dinner was eaten. The family would then retire to sit around the Christmas tree, and, to please Mrs. Evans, Christmas carols were sung. Present opening would follow.

Christmas this year followed this same agenda except for the fact that Petunia’s little ‘love muffin’ joined them. His name was Vernon Dursley, and he truly reminded Lily of a pig.

He came there after Christmas mass to join them for dinner. A knock sounded at the door as final dinner preparations were made, and Petunia jumped, abandoning her table setting, and sped out of the dining room to the front door.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans exchanged a smiling glance, and then followed their daughter. 

"Come on, Tiger," said Dad, putting an arm around Lily’s shoulders and sweeping her off with him. "Show manners."

Lily truly didn’t want to, but did anyway...just to please her mum and dad, if anything.

A big, beefy man, who looked around twenty, with a purple face, stood in the foyer. Petunia ogled him in a way that made Lily sick.

"Mum, Dad," said Petunia, looking at Vernon like he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on (but, in Lily’s opinion, even James Potter looked better than he did...which wasn’t that hard, as James was pretty attractive—shut up, Lily!). "This is Vernon. My fiancee."

Mrs. Evans smiled at Vernon and held out a hand to shake his. "Hello, dear, it’s so good to meet you."

Vernon nodded gruffly, pulling a smile that made his cheeks wobble. "I’m pleased to meet you, too, Mrs. Evans."

"Oh, call me Rose, please," said Mrs. Evans.

Dad held out his hand and shook Vernon’s also. "Petunia’s told us so much about you."

"Father," said Petunia, fake-blushing. 

Vernon smiled falsely. "And Petunia’s told me so much about you." His eyes studied the foyer and then fell on Lily. A weird glaze covered them. "And who’s this?"

"Oh," said Petunia, frowning, noticing an odd change in Vernon’s mood. "That’s Lily."

Motivated by a nudge from her father, Lily held out her hand and smiled politely. "It’s good to meet you, Vernon," she said sweetly.

He shook her hand vigorously. "Delighted to meet you, Lily," he said, smiling a smile that made Lily’s stomach turned.

Oh no, thought Lily. Not the redhead thing. She moaned inwardly.

See, Lily was quite popular around guys. And they all looked at her the way Vernon was right now before they asked her out. He had the checking out the merchandise look on his face as he looked at her, and blinded by love like she was, Petunia noticed it too.

So that was why Lily didn’t enjoy her evening. Everywhere she looked, there was Vernon staring at her or flirting with her, and she found it quite disgusting. It was awful, but the only way Lily could ignore him was to think about James Potter. (And, even if she would never admit it, James was a helluva cuter than Vernon.)

She was surprisingly relieved when it was time for bed, and eagerly left the room with her Christmas presents bundled in her arms, calling, "Good night and merry Christmas!" over her shoulder.

She dropped her gifts carefully on a bean bag in the corner, changed into her nightclothes, opened her window, locked her door, went to the bathroom, said a quick prayer, and crawled into bed.

She fell asleep quickly.

* * * * *

The next day Petunia wouldn’t speak to her. Lily was quite pleased with that. 

At least, she was until her mother took her aside into her parents’ bedroom and had an excruciatingly embarrassing conversation with her.

"Have a seat, dear," said Rose Evans, patting the spot next to her on the bed.

Lily sat.

Mum smiled at Lily and gently wrapped long locks of red hair around her fingers. "You’re growing up so fast."

"Yep," said Lily uncomfortably. She feared what would be coming up.

"I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s noticed, but you’re blossoming into quite some lily," said her mother sappily. 

Lily just looked at her and waited her verdict.

"Lily...dear..." Her mother paused. "I never had that conversation with you...but I suppose you’ll know all about it as you’re sixteen..."

"They taught us about it in the fifth grade," said Lily quickly. 

"Oh good."

"Mum, is there some reason I’m in here?"

"Yes, yes... I wanted to ask you something."

"Well, enough beating around the bush," said Lily impatiently. "What is it?" 

"Lily, are you sexually active?" Mrs. Evans blurted out.

"Mum!" Lily cried, appalled.

"Well? Are you?"

"No, of course not."

"Oh good."

Lily stared at her mother wonderingly. "What made you ask me that?"

"Well...you know Petunia was a bit upset...at how Vernon was...well...ogling you last night..."

Cheeks pink, Lily nodded.

"And she called you a—a..." Her mother searched the ceiling for a word.

"A whore?" offered Lily.

"Yes."

"And you believed her?" Lily demanded.

Mrs. Evans looked sheepish. "No, not really. But I wanted to check..."

"Mum, I can’t believe you would think that!"

"Well...darling...what was I supposed to think? You stopped writing your daily letters—"

"Last year," said Lily, frowning.

"—and the way Vernon was looking at you..."

"Can I help that?" cried Lily.

"No, you can’t. But right when I saw that look in his eyes, I realized that all the guys at your school probably look at you like that, and I realized that you weren’t quite my baby anymore. So when Petunia mentioned your—your infidelity, what could I do but ponder it?"

Lily couldn’t believe this. "You don’t trust me."

"But I do!"

"You. Do. Not. Trust. Me."

Mrs. Evans reached out desperately to her daughter. "Lily, I love you with all my heart. You’re my angel! I trust you now."

"But you didn’t before?" Lily whispered. She pulled away. "What did I ever do to make you not trust me?"

It was one thing to see Petunia hate her. Lily was used to that, and after five years of it, had accepted the fact that the big sister she had once so admired despised her. 

But now her mother...not trusting her...

"Nothing," said Mrs. Evans quickly.

"Then why on Earth did you believe her?" Lily snapped. "Petunia, Miss Date All Boys. Petunia, Miss Stay Out After Curfew. Petunia, the snob. Petunia." She spat out her name in disgust. "I’ve always done what you asked. And the only reason I showed any politeness whatsoever to Vernon Dursley was to make you happy. I didn’t like him. I didn’t flirt with him." She stood up and made her way to the door. "And you believed Petunia rather than trusted me."

"Lily," said her mother sharply. "I said I was sorry."

"No, you didn’t."

"Fine then. I’m sorry." Mrs. Evans pushed herself to her feet and moved to her daughter. "Now get back here."

"No," said Lily sharply, once in her life disobeying her mother. "Sorry, Mum, but I have some guys to sleep with." She opened the door and stepped out in the hall.

"Lily Evans, I’m your mother and you will respect me!" ordered her mum. "Get back in here now."

Lily slammed the door shut in her face, filled with an anger beyond anything she’d ever felt for James Potter, and sprinted down the stairs to the front door. She passed the couch, on which Petunia sat, watching TV, as Petunia grinned an awful grin at her.

Lily stopped by the sofa, breathing hard. "I’m not the one who’s a whore," she snapped.

"Oh, really?" said Petunia, narrowing her eyes. "So you’ve only slept with three guys?"

SMACK.

Petunia reeled back, shocked, a dark red handprint on her cheek. "I hate you," said Lily breathlessly. "I never did anything to you. I used to love you. My big sister! The one who protected me from harm, who let me shop with her. But then I find out that your love for me was only this deep," she went on, holding her thumb and forefinger apart an inch, "and that you’d hate me if I didn’t turn out just like you." Leaning her face close to Petunia’s, she whispered, "Well, guess what? I’d rather be hated by my entire family than turn out just like you, Petunia."

She stepped back, heading to the front door. Petunia stared at her with wide eyes, a hand on her cheek where Lily had slapped her.

Hand on the doorknob, Lily turned back once more. "I’m a virgin, Petunia. Unlike you. And don’t say you are, because I know you aren’t."

Petunia gave a gurgling noise.

"I could tell Mum, really, I could, and Mum, the one so against premarital sex, would practically disown you." Pulling the door opened, Lily added, "But I’m not like that. I’m not like you. I’m me and no matter how horrid you think I am...I’m not."

She stepped out into the cold air and slammed the door shut behind her. Then she ran off down the street aimlessly. She wasn’t going anywhere. She just wanted to leave somewhere.

She kept running until she couldn’t anymore, and finally collapsed on a curb of an unknown street. It was freezing out, and the streetlights were coming on as the dreary Christmas day turned to dreary Christmas night. Her rapid breaths were visible in huge white clouds that swirled around her face and up into the night.

She hugged her legs to her, trying to get warmer, and stared down at the pavement. She didn’t really see it, though.

Lily was lost in her thoughts, which went a little something like this...

Why did I get so mad?

* * * * *

I hate Mum. I hate Dad. I hate Christmas. I hate Petunia. I hate James Potter. I hate...

I love Mum. I think I’m going to cry. 

Man, am I pissed.

I’ve got to piss, actually, thanks for reminding me.

No problem.

So immersed in these thoughts, so lost in the attempt to calm her heart and breathing, she wasn’t aware that someone was sitting beside her until she said something.

"Funny how such a wonderful holiday can turn so grim, isn’t it?"

Lily jumped, frightened, and glanced up.

An old woman sat on the curb next to her. She had gray hair pulled in a bun, a long jacket, a skirt, and a toboggan on her head. Crystal eyes sparkled at Lily from beneath round spectacles. 

"Who’re you?" Lily blurted out.

The old lady laughed. 

"Oh, I’m sorry," said Lily quickly, realizing how rude she’d sounded.

"That’s quite all right, my dear," said the woman. "I would say the same thing if a complete stranger sat down next to me." She smiled. "My name is Arabella Figg."

Figg? "Are you related to Lydia Figg?" Lily wondered.

"Oh yes, that’s my granddaughter."

"So you’re...a witch?" Lily asked timidly.

"I take it that you’re one too, then?"

"Yes."

"It’s hard to find one around here," said Arabella. She looked about. "Such a Muggle town."

"I know," Lily said miserably.

"Family trouble, dear?"

"You could say that."

"Mind if I guess what type?" inquired Arabella.

"Go ahead," said Lily morosely, kicking a pebble across the street.

"Let’s see..." mused Arabella, studying Lily’s face. Lily’s eyes flitted up to Arabella’s in return, curious as to what she’d pronounce to be Lily’s problem. "Oh my...your mum wanted to know if you were a whore because your sister, who’s the actual whore, brought suspicion to you because her fiancee was interested in you?"

Lily’s mouth fell open. "How’d you know that?"

Arabella grinned. "I’m a divinator, my dear. I can see what’s wrong by your eyes."

"I didn’t believe in Divination until right now," Lily said with a laugh.

"I made you a believer, did I?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful. The best Christmas present I could ever have gotten."

Lily smiled.

Arabella placed on gangly hand on Lily’s shoulder. "Would you like some advice, dear?"

"Sure."

"Go home."

"How’d I know you’d say that?"

Arabella looked solemn. "No, dear. I didn’t mean it like that... I saw it in your eyes..."

"What?" Lily looked up sharply. 

"Death...sadness..."

"What?"

"You-Know-Who."

"What?"

"Maybe you can stop it..."

"Stop what?" Lily snapped, standing.

"He’s going to hurt you, dear..."

"What?"

"Lily Evans," whispered Arabella even though Lily had never said her name. "I’d run home as fast as my legs could carry me if I were you."

* * * * *

Pity it was that her legs couldn’t carry her that fast. When Lily sprinted up the front steps into her home, it was too late.

On the floor of the foyer lay the completely untouched bodies of her mother and father. They both looked terrified.

"Avada Kedavra," Lily whispered shakily. She stepped over them, into the house. "Petunia! Petunia! Are you here?"

She ran through the house in a frantic rush, searching everywhere she could for a sign of her older sister’s body. But Petunia wasn’t home.

"Well," Lily said softly, looking down at her parents. "At least someone’s alive."

This brought her little consolation.

Lily was shaky, but her eyes were dry and her throat was empty. The only sign of her shock was the shudder in her voice as she picked up the phone and dialed the emergency number.

A woman picked up. "What’s the problem?"

"My parents are dead," said Lily.

A pause. "What?"

"My parents are dead." She voiced this with little emotion and a slight tremor.

"Okay, I have your coordinates. Are you safe? How’d they die?"

"They’re just dead," said Lily simply.

"All right," said the woman. "Stay put. Help’s coming."

She hung up.

"But help’s too late," Lily said into the phone.

She hung up and made her way to the foyer where her parents laid lifeless. 

She knelt down between them, one hand on each of their cheeks.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered.