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Professor Slughorn’s office had been transformed. Flowers bloomed over every imaginable surface; peonies stood in bunches upon the windowsills, catching the final glows of orange sun on their blushing pink petals. Climbing vines of sweet peas wound around the supporting wooden columns which dotted the space, filling it with a sweet fragrance that would not have been out of place in a meadow. The centre of the room had been cleared of all furniture; from the ceiling overhead, bright petals fell like raindrops onto the heads of hundreds of happy, smiling, party-goers, before magically disappearing into nothing. Lily had never felt more alone.
The party wasn’t proving to be the distraction she hoped and Petunia’s letter - now shredded into a thousand tiny pieces and scattered across the Hogwarts grounds - was still burning a hole in her mind. Sighing, she watched as Slughorn's guests mingled with ease. Their quiet conversation and easy laughter all merged together in a low hum which grew until she could barely hear the delicate sounds of the string quartet positioned on a raised platform - carpeted with wildflowers - beside the doors.
Her gaze swept the sea of unfamiliar faces, considering each one in turn in search of a potential connection. Her attention settled on a middle-aged wizard with a salt-and-pepper goatee, he smiled and Lily thought the expression a friendly one. She took a step forward, preparing to make her move, but someone beat her to it.
Lily paused. Prosper Snyde, a seventh-year Slytherin and, in her opinion, deeply unpleasant human being, strode up to the wizard with a smug smile. The wizard exclaimed in recognition before clapping Snyde jovially on the back.
Her stomach churned and she took a decisive step backwards. Her judgement was clearly off. The desire to leave - an urge Lily had been valiantly fighting all evening, filled her once more. She spun on her heel as she took another step away from the crowd, intent on making her way to the door but her back collided with something large and slightly squashy. A hand gripped her shoulder.
Lily whirled around, one hand already heading for her wand.
“Lily,” A familiar voice boomed.Her hand stopped in mid-air as she recognised Slughorn’s warm smile and walrus moustache. “Just who I was looking for - come with me!”
She was given no chance to protest, not that doing so was an option for her. The only reason she had attended this stifling party, when Lily could think of few places she’d rather be, was to appease Slughorn - possibly the only person likely to get her any sort of respectable work when she finished Hogwarts next year.
Plastering a smile across her face, Lily followed Slughorn. He was so sure of himself, in this room full of the magical elite, that his wide form cut an easy path through the crowd and she was able to follow easily to the opposite side of the room. They passed a tower of champagne flutes, an enormous bottle was suspended in mid-air above it, pouring golden liquid down like a fountain.
Skirting around a small sitting area, where a group of elderly wizards, and one cunning-looking witch, were engrossed in a card game Lily did not recognise, Slughorn paused as they reached an alcove built into the wall, which Lily knew usually housed his desk in front of an ornately carved marble fireplace.
The desk, it seemed, had been removed. Leaving a small space which still contained the fireplace, and a tall man with a finely lined face and jet black hair that matched his dress-robes, leaning up against it. He inclined his head politely towards Slughorn in greeting before picking up a glass of champagne which had been resting on the mantelpiece beside him, and taking a long drink from it.
“Admiring my hourglass, I see, Monty!” Slughorn gestured towards an elaborate glass vessel atop the fireplace; pure, white sand flowed steadily from the top half into the bottom, carefully worked silver snakes had been wrought onto the sides of the hourglass, emeralds had been set deeply in place of eyes.
“I’m not sure I’d say admiring…” The man -Monty, apparently - said cagily. His expression looked oddly familiar but Lily could think of no reason she would know anyone at this party. “It’s certainly not to my taste.”
Slughorn did not seem in the least affronted by Monty’s lack of enthusiasm towards his decor. On the contrary, he laughed loudly and clapped Monty - who looked rather too frail for such vigorous behaviour - good-naturedly on the back.
“It was a gift, of course. From Artemius Elwick.” Slughorn’s tone made it clear both Monty and Lily should know who Artemius Elwick was. Monty nodded knowingly and Lily followed suit, hoping desperately that her face didn’t look as blank as her mind currently felt.
“A rather curious object -” Slughorn continued, evidently satisfied that he had suitably impressed his audience. Lily breathed a sigh of relief. “The sand flows in accordance with the quality of conversation. Should you find yourself stuck with a dullard, the sand will speed up, but, if you’re fortunate enough to enter a conversation you wish would never end, time, rather helpfully, stands still.”
Intrigued,Lily turned to examine the hourglass once more. Sure enough, now that her attention had been captivated by such an extraordinary piece of magic, the sand had begun to slow, trickling, grain by grain, into the bottom glass chamber.
“I knew you’d like that,” Slughorn said. Lily could hear the fond smile on his face, though her attention remained fixated on the hourglass.
“Lily is one of my best and brightest students,” she heard Slughorn say and forced her focus back to the conversation at hand. “Just this afternoon she brewed me a flawless Draught of Living Death.”
“Draught of Living Death, that would make you a sixth-year?” Monty asked with what she could only assume was feigned interest. Lily nodded in confirmation. “And a dab hand at potions?”
“I’m alright,” Lily said modestly as her cheeks began to burn.
“Alight?” Slughorn repeatedly incredulously. “She’s much better than alright. Outstanding on her OWL and very-likely to be Head Girl next year.”
Lily fought the urge to fan her face with her hand, sure it must be redder than her quaffle. She held her gaze steady, determined not to show any hint of self-doubt. There were plenty of people who would doubt her based on nothing but the status of her birth, Lily would not join them.
“It sounds like you have a very promising future ahead of you,” Monty said kindly.
Lily nodded noncommittally. How promising the future could be for someone in her position remained to be seen.
Perhaps sensing a lull in the conversation, Slughorn turned to Lily, “Monty invented Sleekeazy’s, you know? The hair potion. He owns significant shares in Witchbottle Workshop, he’s always on the lookout for new talent.”
Monty released a splutter of amused laughter. “My shares are purely financial. Mostly, I’m on the lookout for a good spot to nap, these days.” he said wryly.
“Nonsense,” Slughorn said, waving a hand in front of his face as though attempting to swat away Monty’s words. “I know you wouldn’t -”
Whatever it was Slughorn was confident Monty wouldn’t do, Lily never found out. His words were drowned out by a loud cry of “DAD!”
Her head whipped around immediately at the sound of that voice. Sure enough two boys were making their way excitedly through the crowd towards Lily and her companions. Monty’s face transformed into a grin and Lily wondered how she hadn’t seen it before, hadn’t immediately placed the vague familiarity she’d sensed.
“James, my boy!” Monty cried happily as James Potter fought his way out of the throng of party-goers and barrelled into him, knocking his glasses askew. Sirius Black trotted a few steps behind. They were both dressed in fine, yet understated dress robes. Black’s hair fell effortlessly into his face, while Potter looked like he’d made no attempt to tame his, as usual.
“Sirius,” Monty said fondly, releasing James and pulling Black into a firm hug. Monty let go of Black and took a step back to examine both boys. “You both look well. Your mother has it in her head that you’re too focussed on Quidditch to look after yourself.”
James rolled his eyes. Sirius grinned delightedly as he threw an arm around James’ shoulder. “Tell Effie I’m taking good care of him,” he said solemnly.
“Like she’ll believe that!” James said through a snicker.
Lily took a small step backwards, intent on escape. James Potter’s perfectly blissful domestic life was more than she could handle tonight. The small movement, however, seemed to have the opposite of her desired effect as James turned to face her before she could take another step.
“Alright, Evans?” he said, his voice tinged with mild surprise.
“Oh, hello,” She said faintly, as though she had only just noticed James standing there. “Sirius,” She inclined her head in Black’s direction.
“Professor Slughorn was just telling me all about Lily’s skill at potion brewing,” Monty said.
James grinned and Lily’s stomach seemed to tie itself in knots. She shook herself internally, there was no reason to feel nervous. Last year, perhaps, James would have taken this opportunity to have a laugh at her expense, but she had seen a change in him recently. Now that Lily thought about it, she could not remember the last time he’d said something that made her reach for her wand, intent upon jinxing him.
“I wouldn’t know,” James said with a shrug. “She refuses to sit with me in class.”
"I don't refuse to do anything!" Lily burst out, without consciously deciding to speak. 'It's impossible to get anywhere near you, with John, George and Ringo following you around everywhere."
She gestured vaguely towards Sirius, who silently mouthed ‘Who’s Ringo?’ at James and received a confused shrug in response. Lily’s mouth snapped shut as her brain caught up with her. What was she doing? She was supposed to be making a good impression, not being baited into insulting Potter in front of his apparently influential father.
“I should probably be going,” she said, taking a step away from the little group and silently praying she looked like she had somewhere important to be. Not, as was the truth, like she was going to scurry up to Gryffindor Tower and hide in the solitude of the hangings of her four-poster for the rest of her miserable life.
“No, you don’t have to leave,” James said quickly.
“I’m sure you want to catch up with your father,” Lily said politely, inclining her head towards Monty.
“Nonsense,” said Monty, giving James a doting smile. “I was about to head out, myself. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“I’ll walk you out,” James offered.
Monty shook his head. “I daresay I can find my way to the front doors perfectly well. I’ll see you both -” he looked between James and Sirius. “- at Platform Nine and Three Quarters tomorrow.”
James began to protest, intent on seeing his father to the exit but Monty waved away his arguments with one hand. “I’m sure I raised you not to leave a young lady unaccompanied.” He threw a meaningful look in Lily’s direction.
“I can walk your father out,” Sirius offered, shoving James in Lily’s direction before turning back towards Monty. “I need to speak to you anyway - I need some investment advice.”
James’ eyebrows shot up past the frames of his glasses. ‘Investments?’ he mouthed as though the concept was brand new to him. Sirius merely winked and fell into step beside Monty who had shook Slughorn’s hand, kissed the top a bewildered looking James’ head and was already making his way towards the door.
“Have fun,” he called over his shoulder. The last thing Lily saw before he disappeared into the crowd was a distinct twinkle in his hazel eyes and then she and James were left alone with Slughorn.
“I really ought to be going too,” Lily tried again. “I wanted to get some last minute -”
“Leave?” Slughorn looked aghast at the suggestion. “Of course you can’t leave! It’s still early!”
James grinned at her and the knots in her stomach tightened inexplicably once more. “You wouldn’t leave a gentleman all alone, would you, Evans?”
“I’ll let you know if I see one.”
Far from looking offended, James’ smile widened until it was almost too dazzling to look at. Lily felt the corners of her lips twitch, the first genuine smile she could remember since Petunia’s letter had arrived two days ago.
Slughorn did not seem to have heard Lily and James’ exchange, busy as he was scanning the crowd above their heads. “Look,” he said, his eyes lighting up as though he had just spotted a fat pot of gold. “There’s the Evanders. Caius has a seat on the Wizengamot and Fulvia is a big name in Hippogriff breeding, she sends me the finest quills from her herd- Come! I’ll introduce you.”
Lily found herself swept into the tide of Slughorn’s movement, James Potter propelled along beside her. They made their way out of the alcove and back into the flowery nightmare of the party, shortly, they arrived beside the wizard with the salt-and-pepper beard Lily had almost approached earlier.
He had been joined by a severe-looking witch with hair as pale as the ghosts who roamed the castle. Prosper Snyde, unfortunately, looking just as comfortable as he had earlier beside them.
“Caius, Fulvia!” Slughorn said, shaking Mr Evanders hand vigorously and kissing Mrs Evander on the cheek. “Might I introduce two of my most accomplished students.”
Lily only half-listened as Slughorn launched into an explanation of her and James’ deeds of note - a long list for Lily, which included prefect, head of the potions club and Gobstones Champion and a rather shorter list for James once you discounted everything that had earned him a detention. James’ list, of course, included a surname the Evanders had inevitably heard before. Something Lily could never hope to possess.
Lily tried to force herself to pay attention as Mr Evander regaled them all with a story about the goings-on at the Quidditch club he evidently owned.She smiled and laughed when the moment seemed to call for it, but inside her heart was sinking into her stomach as she wasted another minute listening to pointless nonsense from a man who had no interest in her capabilities and would never be able to give her what she wanted.
Beside her, she was surprised to see, Potter did not look any more interested in Evander’s Quidditch trivia than Lily did. His eyes had glazed over and he was taking increasingly frequent sips from the glass of firewhiskey he had somehow managed to procure during their walk from the fireplace.
Professor Slughorn’s hand came to rest lightly on Lily’s shoulder, pulling her attention away from Potter and back to the conversation at hand.. “...Over there. I’ll leave you all to become better acquainted.” Before she could comprehend what she had missed, Slughorn withdrew, clearly intent on catching up with another one of his neverending list of connections.
His absence left a silence that Mrs Evander was clearly desperate to fill. She turned to Lily, “Evans was it? Any relation to -”
“She’s not a relation to anyone,” Snyde cut in, a sneer on his face.
Lily’s chest tightened painfully. She wondered if Snyde had any idea how close he was to the truth. The very choice to stand in a room such as this has required to leave her family behind, in ways she hadn’t truly been able to comprehend until recently.
“She wasn’t asking you, Snyde,” James snapped, a hard look on his face. His hand tightened on his now-empty glass until his knuckles turned a stark white.
“My parents are Muggles,” Lily said, willing her voice not to shake.
“Oh,” Mr Evander mumbled. His nose wrinkled momentarily before his expression became perfectly blank. “How… interesting.”
Lily was overcome by the sudden urge to run but remained rooted to the spot. She jutted her chin out, holding her head high and ignoring the searing mixture of shame and fury burning within her.
“It is interesting, isn’t it?” James said, his voice tinged with steel. “Professor Newell was telling me about a little machine they carry around in their pockets that does all their adding up for them. Sounds like a dream to me.”
“A calculator,” Lily mumbled, cheering slightly at the obvious awe in James’ voice.
“Fascinating,” Mrs Evander said dryly.
“It rather proves what we all suspected, doesn’t it?” Snyde said, his pompous smile robbing Lily of any good feeling James had caused in an instant. “That the Muggles are too stupid to do anything for themselves.”
Mrs Evander laughed nervously. Mr Evander took a long sip of his drink. Lily’s hands began to shake, blood rushed loudly through her ears. She should have known, no one was going to defend -
“I don’t know,” said James. His voice was perfectly placid, though his eyes sparked with a fire Lily had never seen in them before. “I don’t see any Muggles trapped in a conversation with you, Snyde, obviously they’re smart enough to avoid anything that unpleasant.”
Snyde’s smug smile fell from his face. His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as they darted between Lily and James. “Everyone knows your family’s odd, Potter, but I didn’t think you’d lower yourself to a Mudblood.”
Lily had no time to register the sting Snyde’s comment caused her, or the uncomfortable look shared between Mr and Mrs Evander in the split second before James withdrew his wand and pointed it directly at Snyde’s face.
“Now really,” Mrs Evander said. Evidently, the thought of James cursing Snyde and causing a scene was more distasteful to her than the treatment Lily had endured from Snyde and she had finally been compelled to speak.
James ignored her. His arm was impeccably steady and his wand remained inches from the tip of Snyde’s nose. “Apologise,” he hissed.
Lily’s skin began to crawl. Without turning to look she knew the eyes of those nearest them were turning to stare. A scene might be an embarrassment Mrs Evander wished to avoid, but for Lily it would be a costly mistake that she simply could not suffer.
She moved swiftly, grabbing James' wrist without wasting a moment. He was strong but he yielded to her touch, lowering his wand in an instant. His piercing glare, however, was still fixed on Snyde.
“Well, meeting you was exactly as pleasant as I'd expected. We must be going,” Lily said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she looked over her shoulder and gave the Evanders a tight smile.
She could feel her composure beginning to crack. The weight of everything seemed to settle on her shoulders. Without thinking she began to hurry away from the crowd of party-goers, her feet carrying her back towards the alcove and the fireplace with her hand still clutched around James Potter’s wrist.
He hurried to keep up with Lily, allowing her to drag him away. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth, feeling not fine at all.
“Do you want to get out of here?” James offered. “I could walk you back to Gryffindor Tower?”
“I can’t leave now.”
“Why not? You wanted to leave five minutes ago?”
“That was before,” Lily said as they reached the fireplace. She let go of James’ wrist and leant against the wall of the alcove, hoping Snyde couldn’t see her as she closed her eyes and took five deep, steady breaths.
She opened her eyes to find James leaning against the unlit fireplace, studying her intently. Behind him, the white sand in Slughorn’s hourglass glittered as it poured downwards in a steady stream. Lily felt an odd sense of longing, a desperate desire to truly be capable of manipulating time.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” James asked again.
“No,” Lily said firmly. “I can’t.”
“I’ll walk you out,” James offered, apparently deciding Lily’s refusal was based on fear. “Snyde’s a git but I could definitely take him in a duel-”
“No,” Lily repeated. “If I go now, he’ll think he’s got to me.”
James studied her face again. “Hasn’t he?”
“No. Yes. A bit,” Lily admitted grudgingly.
A house-elf bearing a heavy, silver tray passed by them and James plucked two glasses off it. He handed Lily one and she took a long drink, savouring the cleansing, burning sensation of firewhiskey in her throat.
“Are you feeling okay, Evans?” James asked as she lowered her half-empty glass. “You’ve been seeming a bit off all week.”
“Have I?”
“Yeah, you didn’t come to dinner last night. Or the night before.”
Lily adopted a sardonic smile. “Watching me, were you?”
Her attempts at deflection failed immediately, James did not rise to her bait. “I’ve not seen you hanging around with Snivellus recently either -”
“It’s nothing to do with him.” Lily snapped, her voice dripping with acid even as she knew she was lying.
“It is something then?” James asked, looking not the least perturbed by Lily’s tone. If anything, he looked rather pleased with himself; a small smile crept at the corners of his lips and one finger ran lazily around the rim of his firewhiskey glass.
She didn’t know what made her speak. Perhaps it was the mention of Sev, who she hadn’t said a word to in months. Maybe, it was Snyde calling her a mudblood and confirming that even showing up at this ridiculous party had been a foolish waste of time. Or quite possibly, it was simply that Lily had had no one to properly talk to since she’d received Petunia’s letter and James just happened to be the unlucky person for whom the floodgates were opening.
“My sister asked me not to come home for the holidays.”
James’ triumphant smile vanished in an instant. “She what? Why?”
“She wrote to me a few days ago. Apparently, everyone at home is getting on just fine without me and it’d be better if I didn’t disrupt them with my ‘abnormality.”
James seemed lost for words. His eyes roved Lily’s face as though searching for an abnormality he had been previously unaware of.
“Well, stay here then,” he said finally. Clearly satisfied he had just solved all of Lily’s problems with a single sentence.
Lily laughed but there was no humour in it. She felt a sting behind her eyes and blinked furiously before any tears could fall. She waved vaguely at the petal-covered crowd behind her and the unpleasant truth that had been plaguing her every thought for the past two days tumbled from her lips, “no one wants me here either.”
“Of course they do!” James argued without hesitation.
Lily simply shook her head, unable to get any words past the tightness that had begun to build in her throat. She knew the truth and there was nothing James Potter could say to change it. Petunia and Severus, the two people who knew Lily better than anyone in the world, thought she was worthless. There was only one choice remaining to her; would she rather be the Mudblood or the freak?
“Your sister is the girl who comes to Kings Cross with you at the start of term?” James asked. “The one who always looks like someone’s set a dung bomb off right under her nose?”
Lily nodded, unable to find any motivation to defend Petunia at the current moment.
“So your uptight sister and a dick like Snyde don’t like you?” James shrugged. “Seems like you’re doing something right to me.”
“Maybe,” Lily said, determined not to allow James to cheer her up when she was perfectly content to wallow in self-pity.
James brightened suddenly, his expression the same one he usually got in Transfiguration when he finally mastered a new spell. She watched as he withdrew something from the inside pocket of his dress robes and turned towards the mantelpiece to snatch an ostentatious hippogriff feather quill from its inkpot.
“This is my address,” he said, using the wall to lean on as he scribbled something on a bright purple piece of parchment. “Sounds like you’re in for a miserable Easter and I always get bored at home.”
He thrust the piece of parchment towards her and Lily realised it was in actual fact a chocolate frog card upon which James had managed to squeeze an address in Godric’s Hollow between the edge of and the text.
“I don’t know if you have an owl, but I’m sure the Muggle postman will find us.”
"You want me to write to you?" Lily asked, confused.
"Er, yeah," James replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Over Easter. And I'll write back, I can't leave you wallowing all alone, can I?"
"You don't have to do that," she forced herself to say, hating how thin and pathetic her voice sounded.
"I want to," James said, his voice dripping with sincerity. "You'll be doing me a favour, if anything. I need something to do other than gorging myself on chocolate. Last year, I was in serious danger of my broom not being able to lift me after Easter."
Lily smiled despite her commitment not to. "Well, I can't let you risk our chances at the Quidditch Cup."
"I'm sorry to have to burden you with such a responsibility," James sighed. "But as a Prefect it's your duty to keep me on the straight and narrow."
Lily nodded seriously. For once, she ignored the urge to point out that no one had ever been successful at keeping James in line. “It’s a cross I’m willing to bear.”
James looked at her, his eyes seemed to penetrate the walls she had built around herself. Lily looked down, suddenly unable to stand the intensity of his gaze.
"Do you always carry this with you?" She asked quickly, studying the chocolate frog card. Godric Gryffindor's noble expression stared back at her. It seemed an odd thing to have in the pocket of one's dress robes.
"Yeah," James said, reaching up and ruffling his hair so that it stood up at odd angles. "My dad gave it to me just before I got on the train in first year - not that I was scared," he added quickly. Lily suspected he could think of no worse insult.
"And you've kept it with you all this time?"
James fiddled with his hair again. "I suppose it's like a good luck charm." Lily noticed a hint of a blush creep across his cheeks.
"You can't give it to me," she said, attempting to hand it back to him.
James refused the gesture. "I didn't have anything else to write on. Just send it back with your first letter.”
Lily hesitated. She looked at the card again and was surprised to find the little image of Gryffindor oddly comforting. Carefully, she tucked it into her pocket.
James grinned at her. "Now can we get out of here?" He asked. "I only popped in to see my dad, I hate these things."
Somewhat surprised, Lily looked out at the crowd past the alcove. She had forgotten there was anyone else there.
"I'll transfigure Snyde's ears into turnips on the way past," James said cajolingly.
Lily made a noise halfway between a laugh and an exasperated sigh. James attempted to hide his smile by turning to replace the quill back into its inkwell.
Lily's eyes were drawn to a faint glimmer just to the left of the quill on the fireplace, where Slughorn's hourglass stood. The sand no longer flowed between the two halves, but remained perfectly still, suspended in mid-air.