As Halloween drew to only a week away, Lily had already asked her father to send her earplugs so she could block out the sounds of the party below her, as she was planning to stay in her dormitory. She was sitting moodily in the windowseat, trying fruitlessly to ignore Diana, Elspeth, and Serena squealing over the dress that Serena's mother had sent her–scarlet, with gold thread glittering everywhere, and on the front, the skirts drew aside to show a creamy white satin petticoat. Alisande was contentedly snacking on an Owl Treat, and, just then, another own rudely shoved her aside.
Lily jumped up. The newcomer had a small envelope tied to its leg, and, in a familiar scrawl, it had her name on it. Soothing Alisande's ruffled feathers, she untied the letter from its leg and slit it open.
Lily,
Hey, meet me down in the common room…uhh, right now's good. Bring a bunch of ideas.
Lily simply raised her eyebrows. Well then. Still, she stood up and left the dormitory, a bit puzzled.
She stepped into the common room, which was relatively empty. Moving towards the fire, she sat down next to the sender.
"Bring a bunch of ideas for what?"
"Oh, hi." Sirius whirled around. "Say, you haven't been asked to that Halloween thing, have you?"
Lily just stared at him. "The outcast, invited to a party? You should know better."
"Humph."
"Hey, that's my phrase!"
"I stole it. Anyway, you wouldn't consider going with me, would you?"
"I don't know. Let me consult my other self. Lily, Sirius just asked you to the Halloween party. What should we say?"
"I don't know, Lily, what do you think?"
"Lily, if we don't say yes, we'll spend our evening in our dormitory with earplugs stuffed into our ears."
"And if we go downstairs, we'll spend our evening in the common room with earplugs stuffed into our ears."
"Lily, I think we should go."
"What's this all about?"
"Oh, hi, Lily. Didn't see you there. Sirius has just asked us to go to the party on Halloween. What do you think?"
"Well, Lily and Lily, we really should say yes then. Who knows–we're probably last resorts."
"All right."
Lily turned back to Sirius, who was staring at her as if she was a dangerous explosive with the lighted fuse only an inch away from the dynamite. "Lily and Lily said I should go. So I'm overruled, two to one."
"Two to one what?"
"Don't mind me. I'm just being schizophrenic. Anyway, what should we go as? If you say Romeo and Juliet, I will scream."
"Don't worry; that wasn't anywhere near my mind. James and Serena are going like that, anyway."
"I know. She just got her dress delivered."
"Ah. Well, any ideas?"
"I'll also scream if you suggest Cupid and Psyche."
"Well–how about Antony and Cleopatra?"
"You idiot. I don't look the least bit Egyptian."
"You can pretend and see what happens," he suggested.
"Or not."
"Well–you want to go as someone nice or evil?"
"Sirius, you're talking to me here."
"All right. How about Cinderella and Prince Charming–I'm joking!" The addition did him no good, and Lily swatted him with a sofa cushion. "Fine. Fine. I give. James and Serena?"
"You want me to masquerade as a Barbie?"
"You could try."
"No."
He shrugged. "It would have gotten a laugh. We could try me and Coke," he said hopefully.
"I'm not stuffing myself into a glass bottle. Get Sirius, serious."
"Get what?"
"Aah! You're making me talk blarney. You stop, and I'll stop."
"That works. Macbeth and his wife?"
"That's not bad. We'll keep that in mind."
"Abigail Williams and John Proctor?"
"I'm not going as an insane adulteress! Anyway, John wasn't really evil."
"Uhh…let's see…evil, mean, famous–Lily?"
"Um?"
"Do you have a sort of pre-French Revolution outfit?"
"I can get one. Why?"
"You've read The Three Musketeers, haven't you?"
"Of course."
"Milady Clarik and the Comte de Rochefort?"
Lily's eyes started to widen and sparkle. Her lips curved up into a smile, and he knew he had picked something that caught her interest.
"So, you're willing to go as a traitorous murderess?"
"You'd be just as bad. Mother played her in theaters once!"
Sirius smiled. "We'll do that, then? But can you fit into her dress?"
Lily tossed her head. "Sirius, dear, Mother was short. And I have grown. If I don't fit, I'll wear platforms strapped to my shoes and walk like that. I'm not giving up this chance!"
He grinned and gave her a short hug. "Good. I thought that might make you happy. I'll try to get my dad to send me lots of black clothing. See you–well, later!"
Lily nodded. "See you, too!" She jumped up and ran upstairs, scratching a note to her father with amazing speed and sending Alisande on her journey.
Friday was pandemonium, and it was a miracle that none of the teachers had found out anything. No one paid any attention in Anatomy, and Lily ended up putting the heart of her niffler where the brain was supposed to go. Professor Maar, in an unusual spurt of generosity, had decided to let all the marks for that day not count, so everyone ended up in a pretty good mood. Their last period was Potions, and Professor Cauldwell, taking his usual nap, failed to notice that everyone was excitedly comparing notes on what they were going to wear. Well, all except Lily. She had no wish to disclose what she was going to be going as, and Sirius, patterning his manners on hers, also pretended not to want to.
The Halloween feast was marvelous, with live bats fluttering about jack-o-lanterns placed at intervals on the tables. And hardly anyone noticed that about a hundred of the bats were missing from the Gryffindor table when they stood up, but Lily had noticed, and she had also noticed Sirius' and James' repeated trips to the bathroom or to the common room or to the library. As she went upstairs to change into her mother's costume that had arrived that morning at breakfast, she made a mental note not to scream when bats came rushing out at her.
Lily didn't bother to change in the shelter of her bedcurtains; Serena, Abigail, Elspeth, and Diana were already doing that, so as to hide their costumes, and Lily saw no need to do the same, since they couldn't see her anyway. But, as she pulled the costume out of its box, she had to admit that her mother's costume manager had had taste.
It was a white cream gown, with a midnight blue overdress, covering her arms to the elbows and hanging down from there in wide sleeves that were edged with long, white lace. The overdress seemed to be sleeves attached to a midnight-blue corset, which had been laced in front, in the style of Disney's Sleeping Beauty's black one. And, hanging down the back and sides of the white cream skirt, was the rest of the overdress; a midnight-blue piece of material looking like a skirt with the front part cut out so one could see the white, both edged with white lace.
In delight, Lily found that she had shot up so far in the past two years that she could now fit into the gown without any difficulty, and without tripping over the hem, which she only had to take up two inches. And, everywhere on the overdress, someone had stitched gold fleur-de-lis', the king's symbol, but on the white, gold crosses were sported: the symbol of the cardinal. And the golden hairpiece that served as a sheath for the poniard went with this dress, and, with obvious excitement, Lily attached the flowing, twining golden mass to her hair, quoting to herself Milady's statement form when she was in prison and trying to seduce her guard, so as to escape.
"Then, as if to render and account to herself of the changes she could place upon her countenance, so mobile and so expressive, she made it take all expressions from that of passionate anger, which convulsed her features, to that of the most sweet, most affectionate, and most seducing smile. Then her hair assumed successively, under her skilful hands, all the undulations she thought might assist the charms of her face. At length she murmured, satisfied with herself, "Come, nothing is lost; I am still beautiful."
Mumbling that to herself, although she did not by any means consider herself pretty, Lily still felt that looked better than usual, and when the poniard was fixed in the sheath, her lips outlined in coral, and her eyes shaded in midnight blue, she felt she could almost accurately sustain the role of the beautiful, dangerous murderess.
Lily left the dormitory and slipped outside, simply because she felt caged inside. Here, alone, with the stars smiling down on her–or frowning, she couldn't tell–she felt something inside her clamoring to be let out, and with a start, she discovered that, somehow, she knew what the ruthless Milady Clarik felt like when she had been insulted and wanted revenge. The same hatred–though with no cause–boiled up inside her and wouldn't be appeased. Lily was grateful when Sirius hand landed on her arm and led her inside. She had no idea where that sudden hate and recklessness had come from, and she was glad someone was there to contain her.
Dressed in a black outfit, as the cardinal's right-hand man, Sirius also sported a large hat, black, and a long black cloak. He had attached a patch over one eye, and, with a sword fastened to his belt, he was the very picture of a dangerous cavalier. He noted, rather proudly, the stares they got as they walked through the corridors to Gryffindor Tower, and some of the glares. He had never seen anyone look as pretty as the slim, supple, temperamental redhead did when he pulled her in from outside, but he knew she would scoff at him if he told her that. The forest-green eyes, when shaded with the dark blue, darkened them and gave her a somewhat mysterious and fantastical look, matching attractively her medieval outfit. She also wore a necklace around her neck that he'd never seen before; it was on a gold chain, with five golden talons surrounding a midnight-blue stone. He was stunned she didn't know how nice she looked–and he privately thought he'd kill James for convincing her of that in her first year. Still, he refrained from telling her that, and they simply reviewed their skit as they returned to the common room.
When they pushed the portrait door open (clam chowder), Lily was surprised to see a stage set up, which was obviously for the skits. Several people were already assembled, and Lily took a seat next to Remus.
"Hallo!"
Remus turned. "Oh–Lily, hi. Sirius–whatcha going as? You wouldn't tell me before, but it doesn't look good."
Sirius shrugged. "We almost did Macbeth and his wife, but Lily liked this better. I guess because she has the dress to go with it."
"Oh–and I thought our costumes were all right! I'm a bit put down now."
He did look nice, with a coat of chain mail underneath a scarlet cloak, and with a lance in his hand. And Elspeth did, too, with her eighth-century dress and hanging curls. But Sirius didn't bother to lift him from his delusion.
Lily was watching the arrivals. Peter made a pretty poor Robin Hood, for Lily had the idea that Robin didn't cringe and jump every time someone accidentally pointed a wand at him, but Abigail, in a simple white gown with a deep purple sash, was the perfect Marian. Nigel Patil had decided to go with Miranda, and Lily smiled to see the Antony and Cleopatra costumes–Sirius had given them a hint. Anya MacGregor, the Gryffindor Seeker, had resigned herself to going with Joseph DeVonn, and they made an interesting Pocahontas and John Rolfe. But the two that took up the most space in the common room were Jacqueline de Forté and Frank Longbottom–they were dressed as Scarlett O'Hara and Rhett Butler, and Jacqueline was fingering a vase with cherubs on it, which she was to smash as a reenactment of the scene at Twelve Oaks in the library. Pretty soon, the last couple arrived–James and Serena–and though everyone, including Lily, had to admit they looked very nice together, they all thought Serena could lose the look that suggested that a horse had just done its business in front of her.
The first few skits were hilarious, and everyone laughed themselves sick when Peter was supposed to be shooting at an imaginary stag to show off and accidentally had his blunt arrow hit Abigail in the chest. She ad-libbed pretty well, though–"I've been struck by Cupid's arrow!"–and fell to the ground. She had to raise her head and glare at Peter before he came over and raised her to her feet and proposed.
Pocahontas and John Rolfe were interesting, but a bit bland, as were Romeo and Juliet, simply because the scene was so common and cliché. Cleopatra and Antony did a very nice staged death, and they managed to make the rubber corn snake seen exactly like a real asp. Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher were pretty good, mostly because Tom did lots of 'showing off' antics involving handstands, but the person playing Tom couldn't do handstands and kept crashing into Becky. There were several others, but one of the best were the Scarlett and Rhett scene–Jacqueline, if she had been the right age when the movie was filmed, would have made a perfect Scarlett. The only small flaw was that when Scarlett hurled the vase across the stage and shattered it, Rhett peeked up from behind the sofa and said his line with half of his mustache missing and Josephine curled over, laughing, as did the audience, some of whom were spitting pumpkin juice out of their noses.
Sirius had signed up for the last skit, and, with a final nod, Lily stepped onstage, bringing a table with her and a few sheets of her homework, then started ruffling through the papers. Sirius entered, and Lily started.
"Ah," both of them cried together, "it is you!"
"Yes, it is I."
"And you come?" asked Lily.
"From La Rochelle, and you?"
"From England."
"Buckingham?"
"Dead or desperately wounded, as I left him without having been able to hear anything of him. A fanatic has just assassinated him." A triumphant smile adorned her lips.
"Ah," said Sirius, grinning back, "this is fortunate."
"Do you know who I have encountered here?" Lily's face contorted mischievously, and Sirius seemed to feel he was really in the presence of the dangerous favorite of the cardinal.
"No."
"That young woman whom the queen took out of prison–M. D'Artagnan's mistress, whom the cardinal was unable to locate. Imagine my astonishment when I found myself face to face with this woman!"
"Does she know you?"
"No."
"Then she looks upon you as a stranger?"
Lily tossed her head triumphantly. "I am her best friend."
"Upon my honor," Sirius exclaimed, "it takes you, my dear countess, to perform such miracles!"
The audience sat, half in wonder, half under a sort of spell, as the inherited acting trait Lily had received from her mother shone through, and ran through the lines she and her mother had read so many times at home. Lily knew this character inside out, and the blood of Milady Clarik seemed then to run in her veins as she and the Comte de Rochefort planned the imprisonment of the mistress of D'Artagnan and the sending to the Bastille D'Artagnan and his friend, Athos, on the grounds of Milady's private revenge. Sirius finally stood up.
"Let us see: Buckingham dead or grievously wounded; your conversation with the cardinal overheard by the four Musketeers; Lord de Winter warned of your arrival at Portsmouth; D'Artagnan and Athos to the Bastille; Aramis the lover of Madame de Chevreuse, Porthos an ass; Madame Bonacieux found again; to send you the chaise as soon as possible; to make you out a victim of the cardinal in order that the abbess may entertain no suspicion; Armentières, on the banks of the Lys. Is that all, then?"
"Capital! Adieu, Chevalier." She fingered a small phial of red powder.
"And what is that?"
Lily's smile became condescending. "This is for Madame Bonacieux–the mistress of the D'Artagnan. It is at least my small act of revenge."
Sirius grinned, shaking his head.
"Adieu, Countess." He left the room, and Lily, looking furtively around her, poured the red powder into a glass, stirring it quickly. As the lights dimmed, they could hear her opening a door.
"Here–drink this–it will restore your strength."
The Gryffindors sat there in silence, but burst into applause when Sirius and Lily reappeared for bows. When they stepped into the audience, everyone was clapping them on the backs and applauding stormily while presenting them with butterbeers and chocolate creams. They were a great success, and to top it off, Lily could see Serena sitting in a corner, glaring at her as James obviously paid no attention to her meaningless chatter.
Lily's mental note not to scream when the bats escaped from under the stage and attacked everyone was wise. She was the only girl that stayed where she was, and her only response when Sirius 'dropped' a bat into her pumpkin juice was to calmly dump it and the liquid into his hat and put the hat on his head. No one tried that again.
Later on in the evening, someone put a radio in the middle of the room and turned it to the Wizarding Wireless Network, and the party went sort of–well, not wild, but more insane. The boys that were dancing (Peter wasn't one) were doing all sorts of gymnastics, and there was always the chance that they would knock into a table and send food flying on someone (usually Peter). And when they dragged the girls into it, they kept pretending it was a sort of cheerleading competition and throwing them up into the air. More than once. Lily had to kick people so as to stay on the ground.
It was only when a fast, fast song started with a quick beat, that she actually dared to come out onto the dance floor, which had been formed by the armchairs and tables being pushed against the walls. Remus had pulled her onto the floor, and, a bit shy at first, she started to dance, twirling and spinning and switching partners. And when she got used to it, it consumed her, and whatever it was that had been oppressed inside her that whole evening spun out as she did, and she lost herself in the movements. It was so easy for her to laugh, and she did, laughed lightly as the ringing of golden bells. And there–then at that moment, there wasn't a girl in the room that could contest her, either in spirit or face. The wildness and escaping energy of the moment flushed her face and put a fire in her eyes, and, untamed and ferocious as she was, she didn't fail to, unknowingly, change something in everyone there. Of course, in the girls' case, it was more a jealousy thing than anything else.
The excitement lasted in her until she came upstairs and got undressed and washed her makeup off. As she was lying on her side, reading Macbeth, Serena came upstairs and headed straight for Lily.
"What was the meaning of that?"
"Of what?"
"Your–your behavior down there!"
"I was dancing, dear. It's not my fault if either James wanted to keep you in a corner or you can't dance."
"I do hate you, Evans."
"Likewise."
"What made you think you could do that?"
"Do what? Dance? I had no choice."
"Liar! You've made just about every guy in this stupid tower crazy about you, and you know it. Don't try to play innocent. I know the truth."
"Since when do you know what that word means? The many times you've lied, it seems to me that you haven't any idea that such a thing even exists. And I can assure you, no guy would willingly run after me. You'd have to pay them to do that. Of course, you're also probably paying James to put up with your nasty character."
"You are going to shut you mouth right now,–or else."
Lily deliberately stared at Serena, quizzically searched her face, and dropped her jaw as far as was possible.
Serena stepped forward, thought better of it, turned on her heel, and jumped into bed, tearing the curtain where it was attached to a ring as she yanked them shut.
Lily fell asleep not long afterwards, and dreams of her mother haunted her all night long. That wouldn't have been so strange, but the odd part was that she kept dreaming about places and parties and plays she had never before seen her mother in. More than once she woke up with her face wet.
She woke up early; about six-thirty. Since the party had ended around three, she supposed everyone was still asleep, so she quickly got dressed and went outside; taking The Norse Myths with her.
It was nicely warm outside; about sixty-five degrees. Lily headed straight for a tree near the lake that had two roots that twined to form a sort of makeshift seat. Resting her head against the tree trunk, she opened her book.
Feet crackling near her made her look up. "Oh, hi!"
Sirius sat down. "You're up early."
"Likewise."
"No; I never went to sleep. McGonagall made James and me stay up, cleaning up the common room." He wrinkled his nose. "Then I saw you heading outside, so I followed."
"Why?"
"I don't know–could be because I'm sick of hearing someone blab about what his girlfriend did that night and how exactly she frowned and smiled."
Lily raised her eyebrows. "He does that?"
"Well–not this morning, but I figured I'd leave before he got started."
Smiling slightly, Lily closed her book. "I see."
"By the way–" Sirius fiddled with a piece of grass–"you did really well last night."
"So did you."
He shook his head. "I can't act like that. If I did well at all–it was mainly because you were playing the other character."
"Come again?"
Dropping his shoulders, Sirius seemed caught for words. "I–I'm not sure–it just seemed–well–when you were on that stage, it seemed as if you really were Milady. Don’t laugh–but I really did feel that way. You moved and talked just like she would have, and–well–well, you were perfect."
Lily laughed. "Don't ever call anyone perfect. There is not a single person on this earth that is."
"You were, though. I wish–I wish–tell me. How did you learn to act like that?"
Puzzled, Lily shrugged. "I never learned anything. I haven't been in any plays–nothing–only Mother was." Her eyebrows knitted. "But I just–I just–there was something about that place that seemed to make everything on the stage real–so real–and the audience vanished. I just found myself being that woman and saying what she would–and it came naturally."
"That's scary."
Lily frowned. "What is?"
"That the part of a cold-hearted murderess came naturally to you."
Smiling, Lily tossed her head. "Well, it did. Mother–" her eyes lost the temporary sparkle–"Mother played her, before she married Father."
"Oh. You told me that when I suggested that–"
"I know." She cut him short so smoothly it didn't seem like an interruption.
"Lily?"
"What?"
"Is there anything anyone can do to make you happy again?"
Lily stared at him with eyes unseeing, and, after a few minutes, he understood, at least partly. Taking her by the shoulders and lightly shaking her, he was startled to find himself facing the same deep, bottomless eyes James had seen when he had shaken her out of a half-trance on the morning of the first day of school. Dark and frightened, deprived and saddened, those two orbs stared at him as if they were outlets to her soul. But soon the curtains fell over them again, quickly, and left the mocking, slightly sad eyes he knew so well.
"There isn't, is there?"
Slowly at first, then determinedly, Lily shook her head. "No."
Sirius nodded, understanding. "It's time for breakfast–you look hungry. Come on in."
Lily shook herself, then stood up. "You're right. I'm being stupid. Let's go inside." She walked beside him into the Great Hall, not listening to his explanation of how he hadn't said that she was stupid.
When they got into the Great Hall and found seats, Lily was surprised to find that half the school was there. She had expected them to be asleep, but–but, well, they weren't. And when Sirius steered her to a place, she found herself next to the two conspirators and organizers of the night before.
"Hi!"
"James! You finally got those bats cleaned up?"
James grimaced. "Yeah. And I'll bet McGonagall's gonna put some bat remains somewhere like inside sofa cushions, just so she can watch me clean it up. She's much more stricter than her mom."
"You just noticed that?"
"No. I'm restating a fact. Lil, how are you?"
"Hum?" Lily looked up at him from over a glass of milk. "I'm fine."
He put a hand on her arm. "Listen, you were really great out there last night."
"Out where?"
"That skit you and him–" he jerked his thumb at Sirius–"performed. I didn't know you could act like that!"
Sirius shrugged. "I told her that, but she won't believe me. Seems like she doesn't believe anything good about herself–do you?"
Lily stared at him disbelievingly. "There isn't anything to believe!" She set her piece of toast down, pushed her seat back, and left the Great Hall, leaving the two boys staring after her unbelievingly.
Sirius was the first to stop. "I told you!"
"She really doesn't know? She could have a career in that! And be making millions a year besides–why doesn't she believe us? Or anyone, for that?"
Sirius shook his head. "James, it's partly your fault."
"My–" James partly stood up. "My fault?"
"Yeah!" Sirius refused to be impressed with James' balled fist. "You were the one that told her that the only reason you were her friend was that she looked nice. Now you're seeing the consequences–and so is she."
James sat back down, seeing Sirius's point. "Yeah, I suppose. But is there anything I can do about it?"
Sirius smirked. "So–Miss Cissa isn't so perfect anymore?"
James scowled. "Sirius, shut up!"
"You didn't deny it!"
Frowning, James dug into a piece of bacon. And he didn't bother to deny Sirius' statement, something Sirius was quick to notice.
