"Lily?"
No answer.
"Lily?"
Still no answer. He kept on calling and searching till he was hoarse, but he never found a sign of her and never heard a sound other than his own.
Nor could he. As Lily was flung through the air by the force of the explosion, she saw the great point of a boulder looming towards her as she fell. Realizing swiftly that she would be gored by it if she didn't do something, she pulled at the thin golden chain that was flapping wildly in the wind, held it down in front of her. She kept her arm a bit bent, so when the necklace hit the piece of cliff, it only rendered her arm a bit sore. And, three inches before she hit the boulder, she was flying back to her room, eyes closed in thankfulness, though her whole right arm and back were covered in burns.
With the force of a tornado hitting a city, Lily slammed into her mattress, face downwards. After a few minutes, she raised her shaken head and dared to glance at her right arm. It wasn't as bad as it felt; only the back of it had been injured, and that not so badly, since she had been wearing long sleeves. Only seven small droplets of the burning potion had soaked far enough through her clothing so as to make a burn, and they were only second-degree ones. But her back was far worse. When she had been flung through the air, her shirt had come up and her cloak had flapped out of the way, leaving a clear patch of skin for the hot drops to fall on. Several third-degree burnt circles, about as large as her thumbnail, were dotted all over her lower back, and she could hardly lift herself up. Lily tried rolling over on her back, but she quickly had to change her position. Practically biting right through her lip, she managed to stand up and move towards her bathroom. In there, she drew quite a bit of cold water, dunked a washcloth in it, and shuddered as the chilly piece of material sent cold beads of water flowing down her hot and scorched back.
She didn't sleep at all; she stayed awake that whole night trying to ease the aching and to wash off the smoke scorched onto her bare skin. Her clothing had been relatively undamaged; in fact, the only thing that had been marred was the right sleeve of her black shirt. Nevertheless, as soon as the house-elf left after building the fire, she hurried to burn it, and even then she had to cover her face as the potion on the shirt started to give off sparks.
The morning wore on, and in between washing off scorch marks and burning her ruined clothing, she had time to think of just what she had lost. Not only had she lost her mother; she had lost her twice. For a few short, happy days, she had been in possession of a beautiful secret, a secret which would grant her heart's desire, and then-then-it was dashed. Flung on the floor with a careless gesture and allowed to shatter. And, as that thought seeped into her mind, the tautness of her complexion began to return, and the circles around her eyes.
By nine, Lily was still awake and drinking a pot of black coffee in the windowseat, and at nine oh five, Severus came in, with a sort of bright smile on his face and a cheery good morning on his lips.
"Lily! Morning! You're looking-looking-" He stopped for words. "Erm-ah…"
Lily cut his stammering off. "Terrible. I don't care. Say it; I've never been averse to the truth."
He shook his head. "Nah-you just look a bit sad."
"A bit?"
"All right, then, fine. A lot. And you've got good reason to. Come on. You all right?"
"Of course I'm not."
He nodded. "Stupid of me. I shouldn't have asked. Naturally you're not. But are you feeling better than you did?"
Slowly, thinking hard, Lily shook her head.
"No. Neither better-yes, I feel worse. Sadder, mostly. And a bit angry."
Lucius flung the door open, and Lily silently hoped he had forgotten yesterday's little act. "Morning, Lily, Severus."
Severus turned to the doorway. "Oh, hi. What're we doing today?"
"Mother wants to go to Madraiden Place; she and her friends are meeting at this German café, so we've got free license to go wherever. Where do you two want to go?"
Severus looked at Lily, who spoke rather hesitantly.
"I think-I think-I've never been to Madraiden Place, Firestream Lane, or Fraeden Square-not really. Only restaurants at night and things. Is there anything good there?"
Lucius nodded his head sort of diagonally. "Well-Madraiden Place is full of little cafés where lots of people like my mom hang out, lots of jewelry stores, there's a fancy dress robe place there, too. Designer, but I doubt you're interested in that."
"Oh." Lily nodded. "Kinda like the mall."
"The what?"
"Never mind."
"'K. Firestream Lane-they have a whole bunch of restaurants there and antique stores…they've got an extension of Zonko's near the end…umm…lots of furniture places and stuff like that. Mother loves it. Anyway, Fraeden Square is this circular place with a huge fountain in the middle of it, and around it you have the people with stands and booths and stuff. They sell lots of flowers and vegetables-pretty much like a marketplace. And Diagon Alley you know. Kid stuff."
Lily nodded. "I know. Do you-I don't know-Fraeden Square sounds better than all of the others-do you mind if we go there?"
Lucius and Severus looked at each other and nodded agreeably. "Sure. Get dressed in something cool, though; it's burning up outside."
Lily pulled on the blouse her mother had sent her, the necklace that went with it, and one of the pairs of bluejeans. Turning around to look at herself in the mirror, she gasped.
The blouse covered her back very well, but the seven black burnt marks on her arm were plainly evident. Lily could see at once that not one bit of makeup would help in that case. Sighing, she pulled the blouse over her head, took the jeans off, and donned a different black shirt, long black pants, and Severus' cloak. She could wear the cloak to the Square; it wasn't as if no one in the wizarding world wore one.
Glimpsing her sad picture in the mirror, she remembered the first time not too long ago when she had worn all black-just after she had received the news about her mother ailing. And then her mother had been alive.
Her mother had never been happy with her decision to stop with the beauty products, and, remembering that, Lily slowly took out a brush. With several scores of strokes, her hair was glittering and shiny, long and soft, as it hung down to mid-waist. Tying a black kerchief around it, she slipped into a pair of black sandals and went downstairs.
Severus and Lucius were waiting for her. Lucius reached inside the Floo Powder container.
"Mother already left. She gave us as much money to spend as we want to-she gave us some for you, too."
Severus was staring at her attire. "Lily, you sure that's a good choice of clothing for today?"
She shrugged. "It's good enough for me." Ignoring the critical looks the two boys gave her, she stepped forward into the flames, saying in a low, clear voice, "Fraeden Square."
Running through the boys' minds had been the same line of thought-"She's beautiful, you can tell, and her hair looks pretty; which is a change. She'd be perfect if only-if only her face didn't look quite so corpse-like."
When she emerged from the spinning whirlstorm of soot and ash, she had to stop herself from falling forward by a violent lunge. Shaking the black mess from her hair, she found herself in an empty fireplace in an alcove behind several booths; but in the center there was a large passageway; almost six feet wide, that led out onto a bright and sunny square.
Behind her, Lily heard several 'oof's and 'ugh's, and, whirling, she caught sight of her two friends sprawling almost on top of each other on the mosaic street. They scrambled up quickly, however, and, with grins, each of them took one of her arms and led her out into Fraeden Square.
It was beautiful; beautiful and bright and sunny. In the middle, as advertised, it did present a beautiful fountain, circular, about twenty feet in diameter and decorated with all sorts of creatures spouting fountains of water, all surrounding the figure of a magnificent stallion, with mane and tail flying wildly in the wind, and underneath his pounding hooves, water sprayed, giving the impression that he had just jumped into a sort of shallow pond.
It was stunning, however, and by the sides of it several small children played, throwing small coins into the basin and splashing each other with water. Others were sitting on the ground next to the fountain playing Gobstones, and whenever the nasty-smelling liquid got squirted into their faces, the fountain was always nearby to provide a wash. And surrounding this were many millions of tiny booths and stands, all filled with interesting items, some exotic, some homemade, many sweet, and some simply farmer's items.
This, however, was the place reminding her most of the marketplace she had visited in Germany, when her mother had been out of town and taken her with her. She had accompanied her father to a business meeting, and while in Wiesbaden she, Petunia, and Lily had gone across the river to Mainz, the town where Johannes Gutenberg, the inventor of the printing press had lived.
They had printed pages of beautiful script in the replica of Gutenberg's old workshop, and had come out all inky. To wash off, her mother had suggested they go to the marketplace, and there they had soaked themselves and their clothes with the water in the fountain in the center of the square. A softer, longing look came to Lily's face as she shook Severus and Lucius away and wandered to a free part of the side of the fountain. There she sat down, facing the stallion, letting the cool splashing mists of the water cool her hot face off. Partly off in another world, she was startled to hear a voice behind her.
"Hello, stranger!"
James and Sirius had taken Floo powder to Fraeden Square, too; Sirius' mother had wanted him to get her a whole list of things from one of the booths. Sirius was busy, and James didn't feel like standing in line forever, so he started to wander around the square. Practically halfway around, his gaze fell on the back on someone he knew, someone with red hair. But it was more-well, more groomed than usual, and even though she was wearing all black, James knew Lily looked pretty good. When she started and whirled around, however, it took all of his self-control not to let his jaw drop.
Her hair, true, was brushed and tied back neatly, but-well, he could think of nothing more she resembled than a picture entitled, 'Walking Death' that he had seen in Severus' sketchbook once when he had been snooping. The roundness to her cheeks was gone, her lips were almost transparent, and her eyes had sunk into the hollows of the sockets. Looking at him out of caverns, the startled eyes of what he had once known as Lily stared back at him. It was all he could do to prevent himself form touching her cheek, wondering if the bone was really about to jut out of her skin. Pale, drawn, white, and frightening, a total contrast to the beautiful hair falling around her shoulders, she looked as much out of place as a package of floppy disks in the freezer.
"So-" He kicked the street nervously. "You're staying with Snape and Malfoy?"
Lily nodded her head. "Yes," came out of a clear, low, dead throat. James regretted even making her talk.
"Oh." At a bit of a loss as to what to say, he picked on the first thing that came to mind.
"I-I saw you in Diagon Alley a few days ago."
"I know."
He was startled. This wasn't the hot-tempered, fiery, full-of-life girl he had seen get off of the train at the end of the school year-this was a lackadaisical, listless, depressed woman. It surprised him to hear himself think that, but on reflecting, he knew that what he could see she was going through, whatever it was, was more than many adults had ever experienced.
Sighing, he let himself flop down on the side of the fountain, next to her. "So-you happy school's out?"
"Yes."
"Whatcha planning to do? Are you coming to Eva's at all this summer? Me and Sirius and Remus are there."
"Oh."
"Well, do you think you might be able to make it? You can go swimming there."
"Lucius has a pool."
"Oh. I see. But Eva talks about you all the time-" He broke off. Whenever Eva or anyone else mentioned Lily, Eva grew quiet all of a sudden and wouldn't talk about the letter she had gotten from her lately. Not even snoop attempts to dig into her things had worked; she kept it hidden too well.
"Well-we'd all like to see you."
"I wonder."
"We really would. It's probably ever so much nicer than Malfoy's place-all gloomy and black-"
She cut him off smoothly. "Lucius' family is very kind; letting me stay at their mansion."
What was wrong with her, he thought. All her responses were correct and all, but they were just too darned polite and stand-offish. What had happened to her over the past week?
"You couldn't think of coming for a visit?"
"I am happy where I am. Thank you for your concern."
She had ended the conversation so finally that James was relieved when Sirius waved at him to come over and he could leave without being rude, with only a quick, "See you sometime, then."
The days seemed to fly until her mother's funeral. It had been fixed to three weeks after Lily's birthday, which had gone totally unnoticed, at ten in the morning, in the Jewish graveyard in Mainz-Lily's mother's sister had married someone that had been Jewish, and she was buried in that cemetery. So they had thought it fitting for Lily's mother to be buried near her favorite sibling, and near people who were relatives-some grandparents twice removed, but still, relatives.
The morning of the funeral, Lily got ready mechanically. She had first reached for her black clothing, but upon reconsidering, she pulled the burgundy turtleneck her mother had bought her out of the closet. Fastening the earrings that went with it in her ears and her old garnet necklace around her neck, she gently opened her trunk.
There, on top of all of her other things, in a special box, lay the precious things her mother had left her. Hesitating at first, then boldly, she lifted the beautiful golden headdress out of its wrappings and fastened it to her hair, braiding and coiling and twisting it to form the image of a noblesse. Slowly, very slowly, she pulled the beautiful, golden-hilted poniard out and placed it in its sheath, remembering as if from far away a peculiar custom one of her mother's roles had required her to perform.
Clutching A Midsummer Night's Dream (Titania's roles had been highlighted), she flitted downstairs, seating herself in the entrance hall, waiting for Mrs. Malfoy to take her to the graveyard.
Mrs. Malfoy arrived shortly after. Her eyebrows mounted her forehead as she saw Lily's attire, when, after all, this was a funeral, but she quickly threw a pinch of the familiar green powder into the fire. Lily stepped inside, the steadying hand of her friend's mother on her back.
When they emerged from the inside of an interestingly built crypt, which held an almost forgotten fireplace inside, Lily almost fell forward onto the grass as Severus and Lucius tripped and smashed into her.
"Lucius! Severus! What, by Caesar's carcass, are you doing here?"
Even though they had mouthfuls of dust, they managed to choke out laughter.
"Caesar's what?"
Lily turned a bit red. "That was an impulse. I meant Merlin's beard."
"You said Caesar's carcass."
"What are you doing here?"
"Well-this is special for you, and if that's so, we're not about to miss it."
That speech, short and crude, nevertheless made Lily rush to the two boys and hug them tightly, whispering out a choked, "Thank you!"
A bit embarrassed, she let go of the boys, to their relief; that had shocked them quite a bit. Head up, Lily walked toward the beautiful teak casket lying next to the freshly dug grave. She glanced around at the guests and then had to lean on a nearby gravestone.
Everyone she even halfway valued was there. Of course, her father and Petunia, Eva, Vanessa, Amanda-even Abigail and the snoring twins from her old dormitory-Heather and Anne. Most of last year's class-and Miranda, Anya, John, Nigel, Ashley, Jacqueline, Joseph-the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team-and the Slytherin one-Frank Crichlow, Clive Allen, Stephen Gregson, Roderick Alton, Edgar Hatcher, Cathryn Clarik-Lily could have cried. Some of them she knew she wouldn't see again; they had left Hogwarts-Stephen Gregson had graduated early, and this was wonderful. And practically fifty parents and-oh.
Her gaze had fallen on a group of five, standing close to the Gryffindor team. Lily's face drew together in a pained gaze, to keep from crying.
True, Serena was there, but-Peter, biting his nails, and there was Remus, obviously not caring that tonight was a full moon, and James, nervously trying to flatten his hair-and Sirius, staring out over the crowd, until he located her, and when he had done so, gave her a nod that did her more good than any hugs or notes of sympathy.
And then-then-
Someone had stepped up to the head of the casket and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook. He was old and wrinkled, and he wasn't ordained by any clergy, but Lily was glad he was doing this for her mother. It was her grandfather, with the carrying voice and beautiful tones both she and her mother had inherited, though Lily didn't know that. He cleared his throat and started to speak.
"We all knew Moira Evans; if we didn't, we know her daughters. I don't mean to start this off by saying how wonderful she was, or how fortunate we all are to have her two daughters with us. Moira wasn't by any means perfect, and that was part of her charm. I can see around me several people that knew my daughter when she was young, and you knew what she was like.
"You knew how impetuous she was, how convincing, how conniving. I can only say how thankful I am that she loved me, loved me as a father. She was the terror of the town we used to live in; the youthful little actress. She was smarter than anyone in her classes; she picked up quickly all that was taught her. If anyone failed at something, she would try it, if only to prove that she could. I know many people hated her for that, I know how many admired her for it.
"Our small town never knew a better little actress than Moira; we never knew a more charming little creature. Even when she grew older, she never lost that wild side of her character. She married when she was only nineteen, but she made her husband a better wife than many that married when they were forty.
"We all love Moira. I know that may seem far-fetched to some, who only know her daughters, but those of us that love her daughters love part of their mother. Every child has part of each parent in her, each child will always bear that till the end of her days. That alone is more precious than any monument that man can ever erect.
"I can truthfully say, 'Thank God my daughter was not perfect.' If she had been, I would not see what I do today. No person is ever truly attracted to anyone that is perfect, to anyone that isn't the least bit wild, and this gathering alone shows how much she was loved, how much she was needed, how much of her shall remain in our hearts. I know, I believe, I will always believe, that with Moira Evans a beautiful, a precious, a special, a priceless part of humanity and society has vanished."
He went on and on, each word ringing in Lily's ears like the sounds of an organ, but she only remembered this first part. And after a half hour, people were pulling out handkerchiefs and sniffing, among them Mrs. Malfoy.
When Lily's grandfather had finished, he looked about the gathering, looking for something, something unexpected at least by Lily. Meeting the old man's eyes, James walked slowly up to the coffin; behind him Sirius and Remus. The three shot a glare at Peter, who, shy and tongue-tied, remained behind, but they nevertheless faced the congregation. Remus and Sirius nodded to James, who looked down, smoothed out his black robe, raised his head, and spoke.
"I didn't know Mrs. Evans at all, really. She was more the mother of one of my friends to me, the average strict parent that the daughter can't wait to get away from. And when I saw Lily,-" he gestured to the silent statue leaning on a rounded stone-"before I had heard about her mother, I had no idea what was wrong. She looked as if she had just been murdered, or someone close to her. And I wasn't that far off.
"She had lost someone so dear to her that I now still can't see her living on as usual without her. Going only by that, and by the people gathered here, I know she was much more than just a parent. She was a friend, a comforter, a confidante, someone who can never be replaced. Someone who, now that she has left us, has left an empty hole in many people's lives that can never be refilled, not by anyone.
"She was unique, she was brilliant; even inspiring, and from what I know, which barely scrapes the surface, I can truly say, from everyone's heart, that what her father said today is true; that with Mrs. Evans a beautiful, priceless piece of humanity and society has vanished."
This brought tears to almost everyone's eyes; those that had stood silent, with dry handkerchiefs, had suddenly begun to dig around in their coat pockets or purses for extra tissues. And, standing alone, head bowed silently, Lily's silent tears had begun to flow onto her cheeks and onto the ground. Though she was the only one who knew, she cried her heart out at her mother's funeral.
When they closed the casket, Lily and many others walked up to say a last goodbye. Lily was the last in line, and secretly, she pulled the poniard out of its sheath. It was as sharp as the day it had been made, and, wincing a bit, she drove the tip along her left forefinger, drawing only a drop of blood. Her mother had had to do this for one of her plays, and Lily had the odd idea that if she only had a tiny bit of her mother in her bloodstream, she wouldn't really die. Later, when she was older and was reflecting on that day, she never knew what drove her to do that, though she was thankful she had.
The delicate blade drove into her finger, and, for a short instant, gleamed brightly. Lily didn't know whether that was from a passing beam of the sun or something else, but she nevertheless pressed her forefinger close to her palm. And when the line in front of her had vanished, the small poniard came out again. As she pressed her lips to her mother's cold forehead, she contrived to cut off the small braid her mother always wore tucked behind her ear. Hiding it quickly in her pocket, she slowly stroked her mother's still, impassive face one last time, then turned away.
She evaded all of the people at the gathering and walked on by herself towards the children's graveyard. Sitting on her haunches in front of a grave that a two-day old boy had been buried in, her eyes swept over the small stones placed on the headstone. Someone must have loved him a lot, she thought.
A crackling behind her made her look up, then, seeing who it was, she turned back.
"Lily? You all right?"
"Fine."
"No. You're not. But never mind that." Sirius sat down next to her. "Your mother was beautiful."
Lily slowly nodded.
"I'm sorry."
At that, she raised her head, eyes full of unshed tears. "Why be sorry? It wasn't your fault."
"I know that. But I'm sorry you lost her."
Lily winked away tears. "Do you know, the only reason I came down here is to escape hearing people say that? But-but now-" She searched for words. "Somehow, when you say that, it doesn't sound-sound-well, disagreeable."
"Come here." He quickly reached over and took her in a long hug, conscious of her small chest heaving up and down with swallowed sobs.
When she shook herself loose, she looked straight at him, with nothing but gratitude in her eyes.
"Sirius, I don't know how I can tell you how much that meant to me."
"I know. You want to slap every single sniveling dotard and spinster that pats you on the back and hands you a used handkerchief."
She smiled through her half-blindness. "You know me so well it's frightening."
"Oh, it's not really that hard." He leaned against the wall. "So, what did you think of James' little speech?"
Lily shrugged. "I don't know."
"You do know he only found out about this five minutes before we arrived, don't you?"
Lily stared. "What?"
"He made that up on the spot. Good, wasn't it?"
Sinking back, Lily gazed at the ground. "I had no idea. It-well, it sounded rehearsed."
"It was very good, yes. Hang on-I'll be back." He quickly stood up and left, brambles crackling beneath his feet. Soon Lily heard him return.
"Lil?"
Only one person called her that-Lily raised her head. "James?"
He gestured to the ground beside her. "May I sit down?"
She shrugged. "Sure."
"Thanks." He pushed a few weeds out of the way and sat, first staring at the gravestones and then at the white, drawn figure beside him.
He finally spoke, startling Lily out of a half-dream.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"I'm just sorry you feel like this."
"I hate sympathy. And right now, that's the last thing I need."
James blew. "Well, you were accepting it nicely enough when Sirius was over here, weren't you?"
Lily fixed him with the glare of all the ferocity she could muster. "Well, Sirius, for one thing, isn't the stuck-up, conceited, backstabbing idiot you are."
His eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hair. "So? And since when are you Miss Perfect?"
Lily stood up, brushing the leaves off of her clothing. "Goodbye."
He quickly leaped up and caught her by the arm. "Lil, wait! I didn't really mean it--please, come sit down--I'm sorry!"
Already more than a bit shaken, Lily was in no mood for an argument, so she let herself be dragged to a bench. Neither of them spoke for a while, and then James ventured a comment.
"Your hair looks nice."
She shrugged. "I know. Not looking as much like the electrocuted phoenix anymore, am I?"
He ground his teeth. "Do you mind? I'm trying to start a decent conversation and you're doing nothing but pick a fight!"
She looked at him quizzically. Then, dropping the mask of carelessness she had worn since James had stopped speaking over the casket, her face softened into more lenient lines. The hollows in her cheeks and the caverns around her eyes were still prominent, and she was by no means pretty, but she did look more natural.
"You're right. I'm sorry."
"'S all right. God knows I'd be pitching a fit if my dad died."
Lily half-smiled. "Sad thing is, I can see you doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Pitching your miniature fit on the wet ground, screaming, 'But Mommy, you said we'd go to that World Cup together! You broke your promise! Waah!"
Surprisingly, he also smiled. "You know, I can see myself in that position, too."
"Hm."
"Oh, well." He leaned back and stared at the sky, then jerked his head back down. "Lil, what I told you that time in Fraeden Square the other day--I really meant it."
"Which part?"
"The inviting you to come and stay at Eva's part. We'd all like to see you, and frankly, I think that Cissa and you'd be really good friends after you get to know each other better."
"Cissa?" Lily stared at him, not comprehending.
"Yeah,--you used to pick fights with her all the time. Serena. I call her Cissa, though--sort of an abbreviation of her middle name."
"The only name that jumps to mind is 'Narcissa'."
"That's exactly what it is. Why?"
Lily was trying not to snort. "Nothing. It fits her very well."
"Why does it fit her so well?" James was on the defensive, fists jammed into his pockets.
Lily frowned. "I should have thought that was obvious."
"Why?"
She sighed. "Ever heard of the Greek myths, genius boy?"
"Yeah. Weren't they like Jupiter and Cupid and them?"
Rolling her eyes, Lily was doing all she could to keep from snorting again. "James, idiot dear, those are Roman. You're halfway right-the Greek names for those were Zeus and Eros."
"Oh yeah, that thundery god-thingy."
"Uh-right. Still, one of those tales has this character named Narcissus in there. He's very much like your dear Cissa-he looks nice, but he's vain and conceited and-don't snap at me! She is! But anyway, this guy falls in love with himself and wastes away by the edge of a pool, staring at his reflection. That would be Narcissus."
"Oh." James looked truly puzzled. "But I thought she was named after a narcissus flower!"
Lily rolled her eyes again. "I left that part out. When he died, a flower sprang up where he had been, and that flower the nymphs named 'narcissus.' So, either way, your sweetheart is named for someone very like Dorian Gray."
"Who?"
Lily shut her eyes. "Never mind."
"All right; I won't." He got up, then obviously remembered something and sat back down, taking her arm awkwardly. "Lil?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry about your mother. She sent you those clothes, didn't she?"
Lily twisted around to stare at him. She had detested every single sniveling old drooling hag that came up to her and had hugged her, squeezing tears out of the hag's eyes and the breath from Lily's body, managing to convey the impression that Lily was being most disrespectful by appearing in colors at her mother's funeral, but, just like Sirius-well, this time was different. He had dropped his usual joking manner, and was quiet, rational, and serious. Lily didn't know how, but she knew that he had really meant what he had just said. She didn't bother with thank-yous; that part was unneeded.
"Do you know how much that meant to me?"
James looked straight into her eyes. "Not really-because I've never lost a parent, but almost."
"I can't thank you enough for that."
"Don't bother. I've been-well, hideous enough to you as is."
Surprisingly, Lily swallowed the jibe that sprang to her tongue almost effortlessly. "Still-thanks."
They both started as a voice came floating over the gravestones. "James? Eva's leaving, and remember, you promised me you'd teach me how to dive like you do."
Lily's face twisted back into its original tautness, and James stood up, shaking his black robes free of cracked paint. "Honestly, you'd think she'd know better; this is a funeral, after all."
Lily only raised her eyebrows and stood up, too, following him out of the graveyard. When Serena took his arm and led him away, he looked back over his shoulder, mouthing, "Chin up!"
Lily nodded to him over Mrs. Malfoy's shoulder. "I will."
When they got home, Lucius gave a short excuse for taking Lily out for a walk in the gardens, and when they were far enough away from the house, they stopped their meandering chatter.
"Lily, about your mother being a Muggle?"
"I was wondering about that. I mean-does your mother know?"
"Thank God, no. She might just order you out of our house if she did. No; I told her that two members of your family were Squibs, and that accounted for the Muggles that were there."
"Oh. Good. That is-not the 'she will order me out of the house'-that I'm a bit edgy about."
"And we've got to keep that secret."
Lily frowned. "Lucius, how much would you mind if I went over to Eva's to stay for about a week or so?"
He was startled. "Why?"
"I don't know how long I can keep up that deception, or even if I want to. Do you mind a lot?"
She could tell he did, though why was a mystery to her, but finally he shook his head. "Nah-it's all right. We don't mind. At least, I don't."
"Really?"
"Really. You want to see your other friends, too, don't you?"
Lily nodded.
"I see. All right-I'll tell Mother."
