Chapter Text
The Valkyries
10:37
Lils
Where are you both??
Macy
mum says just about a minute
so give or take 10 minutes
Marls
Forgor we hsd this lily soz
Havnt usd the phone in a mont soo
Lils
Okok, I'll be waiting at the platform. xx
Marls
Fuckin hell i thin i left my chery heels back at dads
Im goung to fieeeee
SHIT FUCL I DNT HAVE MY CHARGR EITHER
Macy
marls breathe plz
u left the charger in the dorms cause u knew you would forget…
Marls
NO U DONRT GET IT MY HEELS MARY MY BEAUTIFUL CHERY HEELS
THEYRE THE RESON WHY I EXIST
HOW ELSE IM I SUPPODED TO BE 5’10 AND HOT
Macy
marlene youll survive promise
Marls
Pinky promise?
Macy
duhh pinky promisee
Lils
I have them, Marlene.
Also, I love you both so so much
Marls
Fuck
Macy
oh no
Lils
…
But you need to shut up because im in front of old wizards who are staring at me all weird cause I have a vibrating black rectangle.
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was louder than Lily remembered.
Well, she supposed that's what she said every year.
Steam coiled, white ribbons in the daylight. The occasional hoots of owls harmonizing the cries of the 1st years clinging to their parents arms. She remembered that moment vividly from when she was eleven, wearing a blue frock with white stripes and looking into the stream of somber parents desperately hugging their children. She had no adult at her side, just a small bag and an even smaller note from her parents tucked neatly inside. It was the first time she came so close, so upfront to the magical world. Severus found her eventually and dragged her away, not before her eyes moistened up and her arms went clammy.
She wanted to embrace that younger version of herself and tell her it was okay. That she belonged and was just as much of a witch as the next girl, that she was extraordinary and smart and worthy of her place at Hogwarts, and it wasn't a curse as much as Petunia might have tried to convince her.
It would be terribly hypocritical of her.
Sixteen (almost seventeen) and yet she felt the same as she did at eleven standing here.
Her phone buzzed again.
She didn’t look at it.
She was trying this year — she told herself she was. Trying to be calmer. More put together. Less reactive. More like everyone has been expecting her to be.
“Lily!”
She didn’t have time to brace before Marlene slammed into her from behind, arms wrapping around her waist without warning.
Lily stumbled forward, laughing. “There’s my second favorite beater,”
Marlene pulled back dramatically with a gasp, sunglasses already perched on her head and eyes adorned with black smokey shadow. “You — You take that back, Lily Evans!” She clutched her chest and added a faux sob to really sell the act.
Lily's face hurt from grinning so wide, she had missed this feeling achingly.
“There you both are! I’ve been blowing up our chats searching for you.”
Mary said walking towards them with that same smile, though hers seemed much warmer in Lily's (totally unbiased) opinion.
“Mare!” Marlene said rushing forward and pulling her into a hug that looked so tight it should've been uncomfortable — but Mary looked impossibly content.
They pulled back just a second after, not before Marlene squished her cheeks and bombarded her with question after question.
“How were your holidays?”
“How’s little Timmy doing?”
“Did you pack that black kohl your mom gets?
Mary rolled her eyes, yet the smile never left her face as she turned to Lily.
“Good summer?”
“Good.” She replied quickly with a nod of her head
Too quick.
Mary caught it. That flicker. That brief, unguarded woe that passed over Lily’s eyes like a cloud covering the sun.
Just as Mary opened her mouth to press, the telltale shriek of the train whistle split through the platform.
Saved by the train.
“Oi, let’s get a move on then!” Marlene called, already hauling both her bag and Mary’s to the door.
They rushed forward in a mess of elbows and laughter, weaving past first-years and teary parents before collapsing into an empty compartment.
And right on cue, the compartment door slid open ten minutes later without knocking.
“Ladies,” Sirius Black announced
James stood behind him, trying and failing to look unaffected.
Remus followed last, a book in hand and a few small but fresh scars scattered across his face.
The moon must've been bad then.
She ought to continue her research into animagi and their connection with werewolves. The books she found in random libraries around London helped her as much as one would have expected — her pride refusing to let her ask the boys for help. She had to take it seriously. Help Remus.
Peter trailed behind, his hair a tad shorter since last Lily saw of him.
“New hair, Pete?” She called out as the boys shuffled in and began to take their place in the compartment.
His eyes brightened, a smile overtaking his face.
The other must've not noticed then, she supposed.
“Yeah! You like it?” He said eagerly, running a hand self-consciously through the shorter strands.
She hummed in response, offering him a small approving nod.
But her attention had already drifted.
Namely the brown haired boy with glasses askew, head thrown back, laughing at something Sirius had said.
Surely, Sirius wasn't that funny.
James’ laugh was loud and unrestrained, the kind that made other people turn to look. His hand landed briefly on Sirius’ shoulder as he leaned forward, still grinning.
Lily looked away immediately.
She was being ridiculous.
Just as she was about to continue berating herself, Remus shifted himself a little and leaned his head on her shoulders, having to bend down significantly to do so.
“Oof— Remus,” she laughed softly, adjusting so he wouldn’t topple sideways.
His messy brown hair fading into the few ginger strands sprawled haphazardly on her shoulder.
“Missed you too, Lil.” he muttered, voice low and tired, having nothing to do with the early hour of the morning.
“You look dreadful,” she said gently.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
From across the compartment, Sirius made a face. “If you two start braiding each other’s hair next, I’m going to gag.”
Remus snorted, before quickly responding, “Like you do to Prongs?”
Peter choked.
Marlene wheezed.
James froze mid-movement. “I— excuse me? Pads told you?”
Sirius looked scandalized for all of half a second before recovering. “It was one time and you know it, Moony.”
One second everyone was silent, you could hear a hairpin drop, the next everyone hunched over laughing and sniggering and cackling, lost in the complete mirth that had taken them over.
It felt like a second or a minute or a lifetime from the way Lily’s stomach hurt when they finally stopped.
“Everyones summer good then?” Lily asked with a sigh.
“Yeah! Terribly fun, missed you girls.” Sirius said with a cheeky wink at Marlene.
“Ehh mostly…” James added.
“What do you mean mostly?” Mary screeched.
James had this guilty look on his face whilst Sirius suddenly became fascinated by the window, Remus’s face snuggling into her shoulder.
“James Potter, please tell me you didnt blow something up!” Lily exclaimed.
His face scrunched up before shyly replying, “Ehh… It was in a controlled environment.”
“There were explosions?” Lily shrieked.
Sirius finally turned and covered James’s mouth with his palm. “Best you not do the talking.” He uttered before slowly turning to face Lily. “Lily flower, love, my angel, my darli–”
“Sirius Black, you better have a goddamn great excuse for why you blew up something!”
“Well… it was just an abandoned shed somewhere in the country… no one used it i swear!” He reasoned, before hurriedly adding, “Plus, you know how I ran away from that scum of a house and went to James, right? And well James was so outraged and riled up –”
“So you blew up a shed!?”
Sirius shrugged.
“Oh my god.” Lily muttered under her breath.
It's okay.
It's okay.
It's okay.
You don't have to be the responsible one.
Let loose.
Have fun.
Fucking hell, being this new and improved Lily Jane Evans sure was tough.
“Just— Fine whatever.”
There was a beat.
Peter blinked slowly, trying to process Lily’s words.
Mary simply stared, struck dumb.
Remus slowly lifted his head from Lily’s shoulder, as if he believed he misheard her.
Even Sirius looked surprisingly unsettled.
Because Lily Evans did not say fine whatever.
James, of all people, noticed first.
His mouth opened — probably to argue, or apologise if she was lucky —
But Lily was already leaning back, crossing her arms.
“Next time,” she said lightly, almost sweetly, “try talking to someone, alright?”
·༻𐫱༺·
By the time they reached the Great Hall that evening, conversations drifted from one mundane topic to another, and Lily found herself rather enjoying it. It was nice to have people who could at least scratch the surface of her and her life — not have to explain every interaction, or constantly worry about saying too much or little. People who didn't even know the type of music she liked.
The hall smelled of roast chicken and buttered bread, warm light pooling from the floating candles above. She let herself exist as just herself, a teenage girl surrounded by friends who she hoped cherished her.
She sat in the corner of their usual cluster on the Gryffindor table. Marlene teasing Sirius on his hair, occasionally brushing her fingers against his shoulders. Mary animatedly talking to Peter on a new chess strategy her father taught her, stealing glances at the previous pair every once in a while. Remus, head bent over his plate, stuffing his face full of food.
James, of course, was seated diagonally across from her, leaning casually back, elbows on the table, smirk playing at his lips. She could feel his stare burning into her, she had been able to recognize it since his ill fated crush on her.
He caught her eye across the table and, for a moment, she understood the feeling of being completely seen.
“Evans,” he said, loud enough that it carried just far enough to her awaiting ears, voice calm, “about those letters…”
The table froze.
Not literally, of course, but it felt that way to Lily. The laughter of nearby students dulled into background static. Marlene’s laugh caught in her throat. Sirius tilted his head, curious. Remus straightened slightly. Even Peter paused mid-bite. Mary’s shit eating grin appeared once more.
Lily’s stomach twisted. Letters. Her carefully folded, private letters tucked into the depths of her trunk. The ones James had been sending all summer. Letters she never replied to.
She gave him a careful look, masking the flutter in her chest with an indifferent shrug.
“Letters?” she asked.
“Yes. Letters,” he said, leaning just slightly forward, hands resting on the edge of the table. “You know… the ones I’ve been pestering you about for weeks?”
She caught a flash of something — amusement? frustration? — in his brown eyes, and suddenly the weight of words unsent, of thoughts carefully packed away over the summer, pressed against her like a tide.
“Well…” Lily began, forcing a casual tone that sounded nothing like her nerves, “they were… nice?”
He blinked.
“Nice?”
“Yes,” she said quickly, cheeks warming. “Really. Thoughtful. I, uh…”
Lily froze mid-thought, and her mind immediately started running in impossible directions.
Oh shit, fuck shit fuck. Everyone’s looking. Did Marlene notice? Is Mary watching too closely? She shouldn’t have said “nice.” That sounded so flat. He’s probably thinking she's rude. Or worse — mean. Does she sound like she don’t care? Oh god, does he think she doesn't care?
Her stomach twisted, a tight knot coiling lower with every heartbeat.
Is James mad? He must be right? Well maybe it was bitchy of her to not reply to any of his beautifully worded letters — really they belonged in a museum, true poetry on paper, though she felt a bit giddy at the only ones to read them.
Bad Lily. Focus.
Her hand twitched on the edge of the table. She could feel every pair of eyes subtly — or not so subtly — on her, and the heat in her cheeks was blazing. She wanted to vanish. Or laugh. Or scream.
Say something. No, don’t say anything. Too late. It's already too late. Maybe she can just. no. He’s still looking. He’s waiting. He’s judging me.
Just as her mouth would blurt something that would haunt her, that calm, soft voice came ringing through.
“Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are—”
Professor Dumbledore’s voice drew every eye, including those around her, and in a fraction of a second, the tension in Lily’s chest unraveled.
Thank fuck, she thought, her shoulders slumping imperceptibly.
She blinked, shaking herself free from her internal spiral. The letters — James — all of it could wait. For now, she could breathe.
And she did, just barely.
·༻𐫱༺·
That old, familiar smell of lavender polish and oak wood wrapped around the three of them.
Trunks thudded against the floor as they climbed the last spiral staircase, skirts swishing, Marlene kicking off her shoes immediately.
Mary flopped dramatically on her bed, “Merlin, I missed this mattress.” She said snuggling in.
“Oi, at least take off your shoes!” Lily cried, flicking open her truck with a swish of her wand.
“Alright,” Marlene announced, rolling onto her stomach, having moved into Mary’s bed. “We’re discussing it.” She patted the duvet, and flicked her head, beckoning Lily to join.
“Discussing what?” Lily asked, moving towards them.
Mary’s eyebrow arched.
“Summer,” Marlene and Mary said in unison.
She tucked herself into Mary’s side, the mattress sinking under their weight.
“I told you! It was fine,” Lily grumbled. “It was just… summer,” she said. “Same as always.”
“So you haven't been iffy about it?” Marlene replied, with a role of her eyes.
“C’mon Lils, it's obviously affecting you. Why won't you tell us?” Mary pressed, pinning Lily with those honey eyes.
“It’s just different there,” she said finally. “At home.”
Neither of them interrupted.
“I have to measure everything I say. Every reaction. Every name I mention.” She swallowed. “Every part of myself.”
Marlene’s expression shifted — less teasing now.
Mary’s voice was careful. “Did something happen?”
Lily shrugged. Too quick.
“No.”
Too quick.
Mary crossed the bed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Lily.”
Lily let out a breath that felt like it had been sitting in her lungs for months.
“It’s just… exhausting,” she admitted. “Pretending to be smaller. Having to act like they understand me.”
The words just wouldn't stop now, spilling out of her unwarranted.
“You know, they wanted to give me something for finishing our OWL’s… It was a vinyl record, and well I love music! I really do but it was a rock band.”
A sigh. From her or Marlene, she was too focused on trying not to let tears overflow to notice.
“Tuney’s favourite rock band.”
Silence — the other two instantly understood why Lily was upset. Absurd, really, how foolish was she to feel so disconnected over a simple-fucking-vinly record.
“I don’t even like them,” she said, and there was something raw in it now. “I’ve never liked them. I don’t listen to rock. I don’t. I’ve told them that. For years.”
Marlene sat up fully.
“They thought it was mine,” Lily went on, voice thinning. “They smiled like they’d done something right. Like they’d finally gotten it.”
She laughed once. It wasn’t funny.
“I stood there holding it and realised they don’t know me at all. Not the music I like. Not the books I read. Not the things I think about. They just…” She swallowed. “They picked the daughter they understand.”
Petunia.
Oh how sometimes she wishes the curse of magic never chose her — then maybe she would be understood. Be normal. Be what everyone wanted.
Marlene hugged her, whispering sweet nothings and reassuring promises that she wasn't hard to be understood.
Mary just took her palm and squeezed. Once. Twice. Maybe it was eventually Lily clutching onto her, hoping and praying that what they said was true. Hoping and praying one day, she would finally understand herself.
Eventually, the conversation softened. They moved on. They always did.
But later, when the candles were low and the room had quieted into breathing and rustling sheets, Lily stood and walked to the mirror.
The tall oval glass caught her immediately.
She studied herself.
Red hair. Freckles. Sharp chin. Bright green eyes.
Who do you look like?
For a second, she imagined holding that record again. Smiling politely. Saying thank you.
Her reflection didn’t look like Petunia.
It didn't even look like what she wanted to see in herself.
Just bones and flesh. A name and face.
Just Lily Jane Evans.
