Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine, but the lovely and talented JK Rowling’s.

Author’s Notes: Huge alterations on this. I got rid of something I didn’t like and … I forgot why I had it in here in the first point. SO. Yes. A fourth re-write of this chapter. Also, I changed some stuff with Tuney to make it DH compliant. REVIEW, SIL VOUS PLAIT.

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Lily Evans was met by her mother at the bottom of the steps; she looked happy and pleasant, as usual, and quickly took Lily’s arm once it was in reach and led her into the sitting room.

“Lily, darling!” her mother exclaimed once she had finally entered the dining room. She and her mother looked almost identical, save for the hair, her mother’s being an ashen blonde. Lily offered a smile in reply, sitting down at the table, opposite Petunia. "Your sister was just about to tell us all some wonderful news!" Mrs. Violet Evans elaborated, smiling widely. "Go on, Petunia. Everyone's here now," she said excitedly, turning her attention to her daughter, four years Lily’s elder.

Petunia, who had inherited her mother's hair and father's dull, blue eyes, turned her head to glance at Vernon Dursley, the boyfriend. Lily followed her gaze, taking in the unforgettable appearance that he possessed; he was an enormous man with very little neck (or, at least, she was unable to see much of one). He was growing a hideous-looking moustache, one that didn't help make up for his large size or lack of a neck, as she assumed that was its purpose; rather, it was beginning to look like someone had plastered an Afghan Hound on his upper lip. She supposed they - meaning Petunia and Vernon - would make a good pair; she was thin, lanky, and held a horse-like appearance, while he was large and sausage-like and each had a personality to go along with their unattractive exteriors.

While Lily was examining the couple, the news must have already been told; her mother was squealing excitedly and telling Petunia how she could wear her wedding dress. Her father was discussing with Vernon the importance of providing for the wife, and asking if his job at Grunnings, the drill-making firm, was going well. She suddenly felt repulsed at the idea of her sister marrying a man such as the one that sat beside her. Nevertheless, she whole-heartedly congratulated her older sister. Petunia, however, pretended she didn't even hear a thing. This was nothing new to Lily, for her sister opted to act as though she didn't exist. This all happened six years ago, when she had first received her letter that she was accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Petunia was envious due to her own rejection from the school. She thus opted to ignore Lily ever since; and when paying her the slightest attention, it was normally to scowl or scold her. Regardless, Lily loved her sister, despite how unbearable her company could be (such as it was at the moment).

Either way, she couldn't help but feel absolutely miserable. Petunia was getting married, when she herself has never experienced anything reminiscent of the boyfriend-girlfriend type of love. Funny how the world works, isn't it? The people who deserve the most get stuck with nothing, where those who don't deserve anything get what they want. Of course, Lily didn't dare allow this thought to enter even the back of her mind; she was one to always pick out the good in people, and, above all, family meant the world to her, even if her sister didn't give her the time of day. She didn't know what she would do without her family.

Soon enough, dinner had been served. Vernon, as Lily had suspected, had twice the amount of food as everyone else at the table. As the night went on, she noticed that he wasn't a very pleasant man. She wondered briefly what Petunia could possibly see in him; he was loud, obnoxious, and clearly thought the world of himself, seeing everyone else - besides his current fiancée, she assumed, though figured afterwards it could be arguable - as his inferiors. She found it hard to imagine what quality Petunia could possibly find attractive in the man. Maybe it was the fact that he was successful in what he did, which was a mystery to Lily save for it involved drills. She wondered if that was all her sister wanted in life – security.

Bored, and sick of hearing Petunia and Mrs. Evans gush on about how swell and elaborate the wedding would be, Lily pushed back her half-full plate and rose to her feet. "I'd like to be excused," she explained, pushing in her chair and reaching for the plate so as to empty it and stick it in the sink to be washed. "I'm not feeling well."

Her mother looked up, stopping mid-laugh (apparently having found a joke Vernon said highly amusing) to dismiss her daughter. "Certainly, darling. Oh, you're not feeling well?" Lily shook her head.

"It's just a headache, Mum."

"Ah, take some aspirin and rest, sweetheart," Mrs. Evans said with a smile. She smiled back and promptly left the room, starting the small trek upstairs to her bedroom.

X

Lily Evans woke very early the next morning (or very late that night, depending on how one looks at things) to an anxious rapping on her window. With an annoyed groan, she got out of bed, pulling her blanket around her as she did so to keep from feeling cold in the wet, dewy cold of early-morning. Without bothering with a second thought, she threw open the window, knowing full well it was an owl. However, upon seeing that the owl was a familiar, small barn owl, she smiled.

“Pea!” she exclaimed, stroking its feathers gently; Pea cooed softly.

The owl belonged to Marisol Winters, Lily’s friend and closest academic competition in Hogwarts. She, too, was a Muggle born witch, a trait that probably helped to form such a close bond between the girls. The two had met at the delicate, inquisitive age of eleven while fitting for their wands at Ollivander’s. They both looked their nerves, arms shaking with uncertainty as Mr. Ollivander told them to point their wand about. When Marisol’s wand (Rosewood, eleven inches, flexible, and good for defense) had found her first, Lily had begun to feel even more nervous, thinking that her entry-letter to Hogwarts was a mistake. However, it was not a mistake, for five wands later she found her own; it was made of Willow, ten and a quarter inches, swishy (the very word Ollivander used, she remembered), and good for Charms. From that point on, Lily Evans and Marisol Winters had been good friends; their twin sorting into Gryffindor aided in this friendship. Since fifth year, their friendship had grown even stronger. And after Fifth Year, with Severus no longer in the picture, Lily found her a good friend to turn to for advice.

Marisol was the opposite of Lily’s appearance; she was a good three or four inches taller, had deep brown, almost black, hair, equally dark eyes, and rather tan skin. She certainly got her looks from her mother, who was part Hispanic in nationality. She was, however, quite similar when it came to personality. They were both undeniably smart, using each other as leverage for competition. As predicted, Marisol’s forte lied in the realm of defensive magic, and Lily’s in charms. Their friendly competitive nature towards their academics helped each improve in their studies, making them two of the top students in their year.

Pea was growing impatient, ruffling her feathers as she waited for Lily to untie the letter from her feet. She admired the bird, and all the other post owls, often wishing she could have one herself. She considered Marisol lucky, for her entire family openly embraced the magical world, especially once they learned that her five-times-great-grandfather was a wizard himself. Lily wished she could have found another magical person in her own life, but it was to no avail. Her parents had little record of their ancestors, who weren’t even originally from England; even if she had a however-many-times-great-something-or-other, they probably would have attended an Irish school.

Finally, she had the letter released from the owl’s talons, who cooed once more in appreciation. She darted her dark, beady eyes around the room while Lily read Marisol’s writing.

Lily,

The new term begins in just a few weeks! I can’t even believe we’re going to be in our last year at Hogwarts. Just think – we’ll graduate soon! Another year, Lily. Just one more. It seems like just yesterday we ran into one another, doesn’t it?

Well, sentiments aside, I have something to ask you. My parents offered to have you come stay with us for the end of summer holiday until we have to go off to King’s Cross. We’d bring you there, obviously. Let me know as soon as possible and we can make arrangements!

Your letter will arrive at my house if you come, too. We can get our supplies together. Oh, and I’ll get to see your expression when you make Head Girl, since it will obviously be you. Dumbledore’s crazy if he gives it to anyone else – you deserve it! Write back!

See you soon (hopefully),

Marisol

She loved receiving letters from Marisol, for it was like talking to the girl. Lily could picture her standing right there, talking animatedly as she waved her hands around to add emphasis. The invitation was particularly exciting, for the mere prospect of being able to get away from the excitement and anticipation that will linger in the air behind her mother and sister as they chatted incessantly about Petunia’s upcoming wedding made her want to leap. Hastily, she got out a piece of parchment from her drawer, ready to respond with acceptance to Marisol’s invitation. She knew her parents would say yes, and even if they didn’t right away, she was sure that they’d warm to the idea if she lightly badgered them enough.

Marisol,

I’ll be there! I can’t believe it, either. It’s a frightening feeling … Don’t you think so? Well, anyway. I can’t wait to arrive!

See you soon (definitely),

Lily

PS. I’d honestly be surprised if Head Girl fell into my lap. I think you deserve it just as much as you think I do.

She re-read the short note, approved of its content, and rolled it up. Upon tying it to Pea’s talons, she fed the owl a morsel of food and off it went.

X

The following morning, Lily was up by seven o’clock to see her father off to work and, the main reason for waking at such an ungodly time, confirm her suspicion that allowance would be made for arrangement to stay with Marisol before the term started. It was without much preamble that she asked him, feeling it was best not to beat around the bush. She had found her father to be far more interested in the wizarding world; that was not to say her mother frowned upon it (no, Petunia was the only one who did that), but she did feel a stronger tie to normality than Harold Evans did. Still, both parents were overjoyed by their younger daughter’s abilities, proud of her accomplishments as a witch. Lily supposed her mother simply wished she could go around and brag about having such a smart child, rather than having to hide it behind lies.

“Well,” she said with a smile, watching as her father gathered his things to leave for work. “Can I go, then?”

He stopped in his semi-frantic movements, placing his free hand on Lily’s shoulder, returning the smile. “Be sure to write often, alright? Your mum and I will miss you, Lil.” The nickname “Lil” often drove her up the wall when other people used it; she did not see the point in shortening an already short name. However, there was also something loving about the way her father put her name into one syllable that made her smile. So she did, hugging him happily and thankfully.

“Ta very much, dad! I will,” she promised, pulling away and wishing him a good day.

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Author's Notes: PLEASE REVIEW. :)