L
loyalist_historian
Guest
Original poster
Deep in the crossroads of Diagon Alley a nearly twenty-one year old young woman trudged through the snow, her demeanor entirely downcast, providing a strict, noticeable change from her usual exuberant self.
A change that had penetrated through the young woman's identity over the past two years.
Lily payed no attention to the burning red curls cascading over her right shoulder, nor to the atmosphere around her--since the Death Eaters had murdered her parents at the start of the war, everything seemed to matter less and less in the scheme of things. Everything including her fiancee James' distress over her location when she wandered out alone, as she'd done just an hour before. She knew of the dangers posed to her as a muggleborn in the society of the time, but...but it just didn't seem to matter anymore. They had that meeting. Lily knew. That was where she was headed. She could walk through Diagon Alley to the ice cream parlour on her own, and she could take a walk in the stark, cold air of London in mid-January if she wanted to.
Biting her lip slightly, Lily purged her face of emotion, staring blankly down each side alley and in the windows of both abandoned and nearly empty store fronts. It all seemed so different than it had when she'd come here for the first time. She spotted Ollivander's, and her hand subconsciously lowered to the inside of her cloak, only to brush against cloth. Her wand wasn't there, as she was quickly reminded.
Over the years, Lily had found herself 'misplacing' her wand more and more--or at least that was what she told James--which was to say that she purposefully left it in the drawer at the front of her bedside table. Why would she want to have the abilities she had when, for one thing, they simply provided a connection between the serial killers at large and, for another, if she didn't have said abilities, she would never have been a target. Nothing that had happened to her family would have. Her sister wouldn't hate her, and, currently, she'd most likely be at home enjoying the week before her birthday with a carefree complacency.
What startled Lily the most when she thought about it was that, at first, her forgetfulness had been true, honest to Merlin forgetfulness. But now it was purposeful. What did that mean?
The girl's emerald green eyes glanced behind her when she heard unintelligible gibberish among what appeared to be the members of a family, causing the formation of tear droplets at the inner corners of her eye, before she bit her lip.
She began to shiver, either because of the cold or the emotions emanating from her as she all but pinned herself against the nearest wall, raising her hands to her eyes in an attempt to hide her cries to no avail--the emotions had to come out and they did.
Eventually, Lily allowed her hands to fall, blinking away the tears and quickly straightening her expression out until she stared away blankly, awkwardly stepping away from the wall and continuing on her way.
A change that had penetrated through the young woman's identity over the past two years.
Lily payed no attention to the burning red curls cascading over her right shoulder, nor to the atmosphere around her--since the Death Eaters had murdered her parents at the start of the war, everything seemed to matter less and less in the scheme of things. Everything including her fiancee James' distress over her location when she wandered out alone, as she'd done just an hour before. She knew of the dangers posed to her as a muggleborn in the society of the time, but...but it just didn't seem to matter anymore. They had that meeting. Lily knew. That was where she was headed. She could walk through Diagon Alley to the ice cream parlour on her own, and she could take a walk in the stark, cold air of London in mid-January if she wanted to.
Biting her lip slightly, Lily purged her face of emotion, staring blankly down each side alley and in the windows of both abandoned and nearly empty store fronts. It all seemed so different than it had when she'd come here for the first time. She spotted Ollivander's, and her hand subconsciously lowered to the inside of her cloak, only to brush against cloth. Her wand wasn't there, as she was quickly reminded.
Over the years, Lily had found herself 'misplacing' her wand more and more--or at least that was what she told James--which was to say that she purposefully left it in the drawer at the front of her bedside table. Why would she want to have the abilities she had when, for one thing, they simply provided a connection between the serial killers at large and, for another, if she didn't have said abilities, she would never have been a target. Nothing that had happened to her family would have. Her sister wouldn't hate her, and, currently, she'd most likely be at home enjoying the week before her birthday with a carefree complacency.
What startled Lily the most when she thought about it was that, at first, her forgetfulness had been true, honest to Merlin forgetfulness. But now it was purposeful. What did that mean?
The girl's emerald green eyes glanced behind her when she heard unintelligible gibberish among what appeared to be the members of a family, causing the formation of tear droplets at the inner corners of her eye, before she bit her lip.
She began to shiver, either because of the cold or the emotions emanating from her as she all but pinned herself against the nearest wall, raising her hands to her eyes in an attempt to hide her cries to no avail--the emotions had to come out and they did.
Eventually, Lily allowed her hands to fall, blinking away the tears and quickly straightening her expression out until she stared away blankly, awkwardly stepping away from the wall and continuing on her way.