Chapter Text
The fire licked up the girl’s arms, but she didn't seem to mind. Watching as the fire danced up her pale skin, like it fascinated her. Like it did anything but burn the skin it touched.
“LILY! You’re on fire!” Petunia shrieked as she barged into her room holding a bucket of water. Stopping in her step as she saw Lily standing there simply existing with the fire.
Lily hadn't noticed how she started the fire alarm. Their mum must've heard it, and Petunia came up to check.
“Didn’t you know, Tunie,” Lily said, she stood with her arms stretched out as the fire kept climbing up the length of her body. “Witches don’t burn.”
There wasn’t even time for Lily to realize what was happening before she got drenched, head to toe, in water. Her body felt like ice from the sudden temperature change. Lily had never been much for the heat, but this. The fire consuming her was something completely different.
“MOM! LILYS BEING A FREAK AGAIN!” Petunia yelled out as Lily heard her rushing down the stairs.
Freak.
Of course. She was always the freak. Even her own family thought it. And the only one who didn’t was gone long ago. In her sixteen years of life Lily had always been an outsider. At home and at school. Here she was too witchy and there she wasn’t witch enough . Always off by a mile and never, never being just enough for anyone.
She walked into the bathroom, grabbing a towel to dry off. It wasn’t her fault this happened. She was just watching her new lavender scented candle in her room as it burned and suddenly her skin just absorbed the fire like a sponge with water. It was like she was meant to be with the fire or something. She knew it didn’t make sense, but what did nowadays.
Watching all the happy faces as they got off the train on their way home always made her feel envious of the kids having people wating on them because they actually want to. Her family –if you could even call them a family anymore- was only there because they had to. And by family she means her mother, Petunia hadn't been there once. Lily knew she was jealous, and she did feel guilty about it for a long time. But it’s not like it was her fault she was a witch and Petunia wasn’t. She didn’t choose this.
Who'd choose something like this?
She did love being a witch, but what was the cost? Being hated at home and at school. Missing being around her father in the last days of his life. Losing her family over something she wasn’t in control over. But she was still proud. Her father always said she was special, even before they found out about magic. He used to say that she was his favourite flower. He always preferred Lily to her sister, Lily thought it was fair since her mother could barely look her in the eye, and if she did it was always to ask something of her.
She had picked up some old letter from the beginning of the summer. Most were from Mary and Remus.
Ever since that night in the common room things changed between her and Mary. And it's not as if Lily was going to be complaining any time soon. She'd loved Mary for a long time, part of it without knowing what this ever growing feeling inside her meant.
She didn’t love Mary in the same way she loved Remus, even though she loved him dearly. No. Her love for Mary was something completely different.
She loved her like she breathed, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like if she stopped, she’d die. She loved Mary like she was the last water in a mile wide dessert. She loved Mary so much it consumed her very being.
And the fact that she wasn’t the only one breathing as deep as they could made her feel like flying.
Loving Mary was like flying. Like being free after living a life of imprisonment.