Why We Fight

Part 38:
The Curves of Your Lips
(Sunday, November 13, 1977 - Continued...)

Lily sat at the table in the Head Common Room and looked over her notes for Potions class. She never thought she'd miss the obnoxious yet pointless teachings of Slughorn which mostly consisted of how the teacher had influenced famous people in the Wizarding World. It had been two years since Professor Flaherty had taken over while Slughorn wandered among the rich and famous. She had to admit that parts of Flaherty's teachings were rather effective. Forcing the Houses to work together seemed to impress the Sorting Hat which constantly sang about how the Houses should work together.

Lily most certainly did not like that she had to work with Severus. At once, it would have been easy and fun. But that was before he had become a Death Eater. The talk of Death Eaters was still fairly uncommon but the students were definitely not stupid. They knew that something was happening. A war was going on, but most of the students chose to ignore it. Lily wasn't one of those people who could ignore it. Like many Muggle-born students in school, her family had been personally attacked by Death Eaters. Her father, Malcolm, and maternal grandparents had been killed. Her younger sister had almost died as well.

It had happened Christmas Break the year before, almost a year now. She had gone home to visit her family. Lily's mother's parents had moved in when her mother, Iris, had died of cancer when Lily had been thirteen. They were enjoying a nice, quiet family dinner and listening to a record of Christmas music. It was, by all accounts, an ordinary family gathering.

---

Petunia had brought her fiancé, Vernon Dursley, to dinner. He seemed nice enough, if a bit skittish. Lily's father liked him enough, and whenever Lily watched the couple, she could see their shared affection for one another. Grandmother Kiernan brought the casserole dish of candied yams to the table. The scent of her cooking filled the family row house, and the portly young man sitting at Petunia's right was practically salivating at the veritable feast the older woman had prepared for Christmas dinner.

"It's so lovely that the two of you are getting married. I was about your age when I married your grandfather," Grandmother Kiernan stated with her soft, lilting voice. A mischievous gleam entered the older woman's bright green eyes. "Your grandfather proposed on Christmas 1939, during the War." Grandmother Kiernan was in her fifties and was just beginning to show signs of wear and tear. Her eyes were lined with faint crow's feet and wrinkles around her mouth showed that she smiled quite often; her blond hair was starting to streak with silver. Her hand reached toward her husband's. The two clasped hands and Lily couldn't help but smile. "Your grandfather was quite the romantic. The War brought him to London where I was living with my parents. He saw me one day at the market and immediately proposed."

"I couldn't help m'self. Your gran was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Still is," Grandfather Kiernan replied. His Irish brogue was lilting and the way he spoke showed his love for his bride of nearly forty years. Although, he was only three years older than his wife, the years hadn't been as good to him. His red hair was almost completely silvered with age and his kindly, aged face was covered in laugh lines but under the wrinkles, anyone could tell that he had been an extremely handsome man in his youth. "I was persistent. Like a dog. I asked around for any information I could get about this angel I'd passed one day. Finally, I found her. My darlin' Daisy."

Grandmother Kiernan giggled, squeezing her husband's hand. She looked at her younger granddaughter. The two shared a look that showed that they both knew what love was and that they had found the ones they wanted to spend their life with. Petunia blushed slightly and smiled sweetly at her groom-to-be. Vernon looked rather love-struck as well and the two shared a chaste peck on the lips. "He found out where I lived and asked around for my name. From that night on, he'd stand under my window and sing. He had such a lovely voice. He drove your great-grandfather mad, singing until dawn any time he could."

"‘Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer true. I'm half-crazy over the love of you. It won't be a stylish marriage. I can't afford a carriage, but you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two,'" Grandfather Kiernan sang. His voice was a bit thinner than it had been when he was wooing his wife, but he still sang like a bird. "Finally, Papa had had enough and just told me to go downstairs and talk to the lad, see if I could chase him away. But I saw him face-to-face for the first time. Those beautiful green eyes." She stroked her husband's cheek. She looked to Lily. "Your mother's eyes and your eyes." Lily blushed and Petunia looked a bit hurt. "Oh, but my dear Petunia, you have your mother's smile. Like a beam of sunshine."

Petunia blushed as well, a hint of a smile coming out at the comparison to her mother. "I proposed again that night," Grandfather Kiernan replied, taking his wife's hand and kissing the back of her wrinkling hand sweetly. "She finally accepted. Less than two months later, we were married. St. Valentine's Day at the family home."

"Within the first month, I was pregnant with your mum. She was always in such a hurry," Grandmother Kiernan added.

Lily, Petunia, and Malcolm had a laugh. Iris had nearly died before she was even born. She hadn't even been due until December, but had been brought on by her mother going into labor early during the first German blitzkrieg attack on London September 7, 1940. She had barely survived and had long-term consequences due to her early birth. As luck would have it, Grandfather Kiernan had been studying medicine while he fought in the War and his quick reactions saved the lives of both his wife and newborn daughter. At Vernon's confused look, Grandmother Kiernan explained to him about the way her daughter had entered the world.

"She was always such a frail, little thing," Grandfather Kiernan stated. "But your da took right good care of me girl." He smiled at Malcolm.

"Thank you, sir," the man spoke for the first time. He looked at his future son-in-law. "You'd best take care of my girl as well, Vernon."

"I will, sir," Vernon said. "You have an amazing daughter, Mr. Evans."

"I do. Two of them," he said, smiling at his two daughters. Lily and Petunia smiled back.

Grandfather Kiernan frowned and looked around as he heard a loud noise. "What was that?"

Malcolm Evans stood up and frowned. "I don't know," he stated. "I'll go look." He didn't have time to move from his seat before the front door was blasted open. Petunia screamed and Vernon shoved her behind him as a stream of black robe-clad people with skull masks streamed into the living room.

"What on earth!?" Grandmother Kiernan cried. A wand was bared and a jet of green light shot from it. Lily raced as fast as she could across the room, trying to push her grandparents out of the way. She landed atop them and looked down to find their faces blank and staring. Any trace of life had been snuffed from their eyes.

A woman behind one of the masks cackled. "A two-fer!" she screamed madly and joyously. The mask did not hide who the person was. The redhead would know that voice anywhere. It was Bellatrix Lestrange, and she had killed Lily's grandparents.

Lily tried not to look at her grandparents and retrieved her wand. "Dad, get them out of here," she commanded.

"Lily..." Malcolm said, staring at his dead in-laws with horror. His face was the color of parchment with a greenish tinge. He stared at his older daughter, who stared back. He grabbed Vernon's arm and Petunia's hand. Petunia hadn't made a sound; she was in shock as was her fiancé. The man dragged them out the back door.

"Don't go far!" Bellatrix called. "We'll have fun playing with you!" Lily faced the five Death Eaters who had entered her home and murdered her family. She knew she didn't stand a chance in defeating them. She knew she couldn't kill them, but maybe she could hold them off long enough for her remaining family members to escape. The slender form looked at Lily and spoke again with a mocking voice, "Do you think you can take us all, little girl?"

Lily refused to be baited. "Expelliarmus!" she cried. No one was actually expecting her to fight. Bellatrix's wand flew from her hand. Lily murmured a banishing charm which unarmed a second Death Eater."

"The girl's got spirit," a male voice said. "Too bad she's a worthless Mudblood. Crucio!" Lily thought fast and cast a shield charm. The shield didn't completely bounce off the Unforgivable, but it certainly deadened the pain. A dull pain went through her and Lily scrabbled under the dining room table. A quick Reducto sent the table up in splinters, the wood stabbing through the girl's shield and cutting her face and hands.

Lily let out a soft cry of pain and tried to come up with some defensive spells. The Death Eaters were obviously enjoying themselves as they slowly made their way toward the young woman. It was her last chance, Lily realized. "Avada Kedavra!" she cried. The Death Eater nearest to her collapsed as green light hit him in the chest. Lily was as shocked as the Death Eaters. She scrambled to her feet and raced to the back door. Her father and Vernon were kneeling by a petite, blond collapsed form. "Tuney!"

She raced across the yard, fearing the worst had happened. Malcolm was slapping his daughter's face, trying to get her to come to. To Lily's relief, there was still a slight rise and fall to Petunia's chest. "W--we h--have to get out of here," Lily panted, grabbing her father's hand, Vernon's hand, and making sure she had contact with Petunia.

The last thing that Lily saw from the home she'd spent the past sixteen years growing up in was a burst of green light as she Apparated her sister, father, and future brother-in-law away. The four fell down in the middle of one of the cobblestone streets that made up the roads of Hogsmeade. Lily grunted, her head aching painfully and her stomach roiling sickly from the exertion. Petunia came to as the icy street soaked into her top. "W--where are we?" she demanded, her blue eyes wide and horrified.

Vernon didn't say a word, simply stared at the still form of Malcolm Evans who stared blankly at the starless sky. "M--Mister Evans?" he asked. Lily panted and looked at her father. She knew that look; it was the same look that her grandparents had borne. Her father was dead. She and Petunia were orphans.

"Y--you!" Petunia screamed. "You did this!" She gestured wildly around them and toward their father. "You killed him! You killed Grandmother and Grandfather, too! You sick, demented freak! This is all your fault! I HATE YOU!"

Those were the last words that Petunia had spoken to Lily. Once Dumbledore had been notified of the attack on a student's home, he had appeared to help the two girls with the final arrangements of their father and grandparents. Petunia hadn't said another word to her sister. Vernon was trembling uncontrollably even though he tried to comfort his future wife. Dumbledore helped the two Muggles get back to Vernon's family home in Little Whinging. On Valentine's Day, just like Grandfather and Grandmother Kiernan, Vernon and Petunia were married. Lily hadn't been invited.

---

Lily had begged Professor Dumbledore to keep the news of her family's death a secret, and he had agreed. Lily threw herself into her studies and helped restart the Dueling Club. It was all she could do to keep her sanity. The redhead had never cried over the death of her family members and refused to do so. But, now, almost a year later, she couldn't hold back the tears. Her shoulders shook as silent tears racked her body.

James entered the Head common room, fresh from Quidditch practice when he saw Lily hunched over the table. At first, he thought she had again fallen asleep doing homework, but then he saw her shoulders quivering as she let loose the pain of losing those she loved most: her grandparents, her father, her little sister, and the fact that she had actually killed someone. The black-haired young man sat next to the Head Girl and placed a calloused hand on her back, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. "It's alright, Lily," James Potter whispered softly. "Everything's going to be alright."

Lily finally looked at him, tears streaking her pretty face. Her almond-shaped emerald eyes that her grandfather and mother had both possessed before her glistened with unshed tears as more tears traced the curve of her face. "Nothing is ever going to be alright again," she hissed.

"Trust me, Lily, I won't let anything happen to you," James murmured, gently smoothing the tears from her pretty face. Even as he said the words, he knew that it was all a lie. They were both going to die. "I promise, Lily. No one will ever hurt you again." The lies flowed from his lips, and Lily began to believe him.

"How can you say that?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"Because I can," he said. "Trust me, Lily."

"How can I trust you?" she whispered, even to herself, the words didn't sound quite convincing.

"Because you can," he murmured. He seemed closer than ever. Lily could smell grass and the wind on his skin and a musky scent that was just HIM. She realized his hand was still on her face, but she made no move to peel away the large, calloused hand. The hand slid lower, tracing the curve of her jaw, his thumb barely touching the lobe of her ear.

They stared at one another for an eternity, it seemed. Her green eyes never left his hazel eyes which seemed to rotate through a rainbow of colors: blue, brown, green, and every color in between. She suddenly felt self-conscious. She wasn't gorgeous like Farrah Fawcett or Helen Mirren. She always thought her eyes were too big and her nose was too pointy and her top lip was just too thin.

James drank in her appearance. Her face was pink from the tears, but it was usually a shade of alabaster with a hint of peaches and cream, and her auburn hair shone golden in the light. "The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold," he whispered softly. "The curves of your lips rewrite history."

"Oscar Wilde," Lily murmured with a hint of amazement. James smiled slightly. And, with that, he kissed her. Lily didn't protest but moved into the kiss.

---

The Oscar Wilde quote is from The Portrait of Dorian Grey.