Wizarding Betrothal

Chapter 2: First Impressions

The chimes of the doorbell sounded rhythmically from the house, reminding Lily that she needed to hustle. Not that she was in a hurry to please anybody, of course, but it certainly would not help her cause if she made herself look like a bratty, inconsiderate child refusing to come down to dinner.

Keeping hidden in the shrubbery, she crept into the hydrangeas under her bedroom balcony and climbed atop a broad stone planter. Yes, maturity and polite behaviour would be the best route to successfully making her case; that, and it would shock her parents who were probably trying to come up with an excuse for her absence at that very moment. Shocking them was always amusing.

Lily pushed her skateboard through the space in the railing, and grabbed the lower ledge of the balcony, bracing her hands tightly. She pulled her body up high enough to swing her leg and heave her foot onto the ledge as well, and then hoisted herself all the way up, crawling over the railing and onto the balcony.

If she were going to argue that she was responsible enough to make her own decisions, she would have to behave herself like a responsible adult. Rubbing the circulation back into her palms, Lily slipped into her bedroom, stripped to her skin, and rushed into the washroom to scrub up. She could just picture her mother's desperate sigh of relief upon hearing the upstairs shower running.

A yellow note was stuck to the closet door.

"Lily - I picked up a pretty new dress for you to wear tonight. Please remember that we love you. See you downstairs. - Mum"

Looking around, she spotted the 'pretty new dress' lying innocently across her bed, and recoiled in revulsion. There was no way on God's green earth that she would get Lily into that thing! What was her mother thinking? Turning back to the closet, Lily grabbed a black knee length skirt and a soft black and navy striped blouse. It was an outfit that she loved and felt comfortable in. It also happened to be an outfit that her parents hated; chipper Mrs. Evans thought the colours were too dark and depressing, and Mr. Evans considered it to be too tight on her maturing figure. That evening however, they would be so glad to see her at all that she knew she wouldn't be sent back upstairs to change.

With a few finishing touches to her appearance, and a final glance in the mirror, Lily took a deep breath and began walking downstairs. "Remember that killer grind," she said aloud, grinning and smoothing her skirt.

The double doors leading into the front parlour were standing open. She slipped through them and stood in the doorway, observing the occupants and wondering with amusement how long it would take them to notice her.

Mother was chatting with the small lady whom Lily had seen in the driveway. They were sitting on the sofa nearest the window, and Mother was putting up an excellent appearance of being calm and collected. Lily noted that she was crossing and uncrossing her ankles repeatedly beneath her long dress, a sure sign that the very proper woman was agitated.

The small lady on the sofa had to be Mrs. Potter. She carried an air of amiable grace and good breeding, and seemed enthralled by the Muggle home she was visiting. Definitely a witch. Greying hair flecked her temples and Lily wondered for a moment about Mr. Potter, whom had never been mentioned by her parents.

Father chuckled loudly about something or other, and Lily turned her attention to him, sitting importantly in the leather armchair. He was trying really hard.

Following his line of vision, Lily finally took a moment to examine the young Mr. Potter with unveiled interest. Both feet planted on the carpet, he was leaning forward as he related an amusing story to Father. His dark hair looked entirely uncombed, a thick lock inching over his eyes, and he had the browned skin of someone who spent a great deal of time outdoors. While not exactly large, he was muscular, and filled out his stylish Muggle clothes rather nicely, Lily thought. Seeming to sense that he was being watched, his voice faltered as he glanced around, eyes stopping on her form in the doorway. Ruffling his hair, he sat up.

"Ah! Lily, flower! Come in and meet - ." Father's greeting was cut off by Mother, who leapt from the sofa with amazing speed, sweeping Lily unceremoniously back in to the hall.

"Lily! I was so worried about you." She crushed Lily with a relieved hug. "Where have you been?"

The parlour doors were not closed and Lily wondered if her mother really thought that the others would be unable to hear them. Things could get interesting...

"Well? Why are you so late?"

"I was deciding whether or not to come." She spoke in a clear, polite tone, sure that her father was squirming already.

After staring open-mouthed at Lily for a brief moment, Mother seemed to decide that it was not the time to reopen the 'discussion' from the previous evening. She switched topics. "Didn't you see the dress I laid out for you to wear?"

"Yes, ma'am, I did." Lily volunteered no further explanation on the matter, but her mother was not so easily put off.

"So, where is it?"

"On my bed."

"Oh, Lily," she sighed with irritation, "would it have been so terribly hard to put it on?"

"Mother. I am not eight years old, and this is not an Easter Sunday picnic, so I hardly think that particular dress would be suitable." The situation was beginning to get embarrassing and Lily could hear her voice becoming edgy. Time to nip it in the bud. "Are you going to stand in the hall fussing at me all night," she inquired, trying to stick with her resolution to behave maturely.

Mother blinked and then narrowed her eyes, exerting a great deal of effort to bite back the comment on her tongue. "In you go, then." She nodded towards the parlour.

Ever since she had seen the Potters drive up, Lily had been considering the dark haired young man carefully. As tempted as she was to hate his guts, Lily knew that he really bore no greater fault in this arrangement than she did. He had been a child as well when their parents agreed on the betrothal, and for all she knew, he could be even more unhappy about it than she was. Then again, he could be pleased as punch...but she couldn't think about that possibility just yet. No matter what she ended up deciding to do, it would be dead useful if he at least didn't hate her. Besides, he really was too cute.

With that in mind, Lily allowed her mother to guide her through the introductions, not really paying attention to what was said. A little muscle was twitching in her father's neck, the telltale sign that his blood pressure was rising. Lily was pondering how much it would take to send him over the edge without making a fool of herself in the process when she suddenly found herself face to face with her partner in bondage...er, betrothal.

Feigning more self-assurance than she felt, she looked him straight in the eye and was surprised to see silently suppressed laughter looking back at her. Remembering the odd conversation in the hall, she felt rather nervous as she wondered if he was laughing at her, or with her. He took her offered hand in his and then, rather than a normal handshake, suddenly bent to kiss her knuckles, never breaking eye contact. Lily raised an eyebrow at him, forced a slight grin onto her face, and withdrew her hand with a short nod.

She mentally kicked herself. Way to stay in control of the situation, Lily.

Before Lily knew it, they were seated in the dining room, her father had led the blessing, and the dishes were being passed. Mother had obviously put a great deal of effort into the meal. All of the best china, silver and crystal were laid out. The lavender table linens co-ordinated with the low floral arrangements and even with the candles ensconced on the walls. It was really lovely, especially with the curtains opened to allow a view of the lantern-lit garden through the large windows. Lily felt a twinge of guilt that she had left her mother to do so much work alone; they didn't pre-arrange her marriage just to aggravate her. They loved her. But still...that didn't make it right.

"Lily," her mother whispered, "save some room for dessert." Lily was refilling her plate for the third time, rather to her mother's dismay.

"I haven't eaten since yesterday. I can't help it if I'm hungry," she replied, knowing that any attention drawn to her enormous appetite would embarrass her mother. "Besides," she added with a grin, "I need protein more than sugar. I'm already sweet enough."

Mother rolled her eyes and smiled while a soft snort to her left caused Lily to look over in time to see him covering a grin with a large gulp of water. Him. For the life of her, Lily could not remember what they said his name was - a fact she had realised with chagrin somewhere between her first and second helpings of roast beef. She'd been forcing herself to pay at least a minimal amount of attention to the conversation ever since, in hopes that someone would use his name. Father had taken to calling him "Potter," and Lily vaguely wondered if he fancied himself a football coach. Mrs. Potter called him "Darling," but that definitely was not going to come out of Lily's mouth. Her mother had managed to avoid the use of his name completely. Maybe she was trying to remember as well. That would sure be a kick!

When Mother finally rose to lead everyone back into the parlour, Lily became acutely aware that she was already paying the price for her time at the Swamp earlier. Sitting still for so long at the table had given her overworked and bruised muscles a chance to stiffen. She got up from her chair with a groan and stumbled before her knees loosened up. Lily felt her face warming with mortification when she saw that he was suddenly standing very close to her, as if to help prevent her from falling. Everyone else was looking at her with concern.

"I'm . . . I'm okay. Just a little stiff. I'm going to take a little walk in the garden if you don't mind, mum. I'll be back in shortly." Or never, more likely.

Her mother nodded. "That's fine sweetheart."

Lily turned, bumped into the back of her chair, practically tripped over her feet trying to avoid touching him, and shuffled out the back door, avoiding all eye contact. How many ways could she demonstrate the word 'Pathetic'? Lily began to walk, and stretched her body, working out the developing kinks.

Aside from her spot on the beach, the Evans' large garden was her favourite place to be alone. Wild shrubs and flowers filled the north side of the yard, facing Lily's window, and a formal rose garden grew on the south end. A wide lawn stretched between the two gardens, and shady trees swayed overhead. There was a spot to sit for every mood.

Lily found her way to a low garden wall and leaned her weight against it. She was starting to feel guilty. Of course her parents shouldn't have taken it upon themselves to arrange her marriage for her. Of course, having done so anyway, they should have told her a long time ago. Of course the whole thing was stupid. But really, they loved her. They wanted her to have the best of everything - the best of both worlds (magical and Muggle) - and they wanted her to be happy.

She felt sick remembering how she had lost her temper with them; she hardly ever lost her temper like that, and she had made them so sad. She could still see the hurt in their eyes. They didn't deserve that kind of treatment. There had to be some kind of solution that would please everyone. Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes and massaged her shoulder. The late evening was cooling, and a familiar salty breeze mingled with the midsummer roses as it floated through the garden. Lily took a deep breath and exhaled.

"Mind if I join you?"

Eyes popping open, she saw him sauntering down the dim walk, one hand hooked on his pocket and the other twirling a white gardenia blossom. Not waiting for a response, he took a seat on the wall and held the small flower out in front of her.