I know, I know, this story has been done over SO MANY TIMES, its not even funny, but I don't care. I decided I would give it a try because I have read the book so many times, I could recite it too you. Seriously. So anyway, here it goes! Hope you like it! I apologize about the WAY unoriginal title, but I'm horrible with them! Please review!

Disclaimer: Everything you do not recognize is mine, like Aunt Violet. Everything else belongs to the goddess among us mere men and women, JK Rowling. We are not worthy.

The Story of Lily

Chapter One: And So Begins the Story of Lily


Lily Carolyn Evans was born on a dark and dreary day. The attitude in the house was very oppressive, not what you would expect, since a baby had just been born.

There should have been laughter, beaming faces, and a feeling of joy everywhere.

But there wasn't.

Lily's mother, Iris Marie Evans, lived long enough to name her new baby before leaving for heaven.

Iris had been sick for many days before Lily's arrival, and was very weak and pale on the day of Lily's birth. Her husband – rich, charming, and loving Edward Evans – had pleaded with her to stop the baby by getting an abortion, but Iris had stoutly refused, saying that she would rather die than kill her own child. After giving birth successfully to the already redheaded child, her health plunged drastically, and, just moments after delivering Lily, Iris Evans passed away, leaving a grieving father and four-year old daughter.

Edward, maddened by grief, buried himself in his work as the head of a large drill company in London, and was rarely seen at home.  

The youngest daughter, Lily, lived under horrible conditions. Edward only brought her out when he had to, and forced her to live in the old barn on their property. He allowed one maid – a young, kindhearted woman – to care for her by making her clothes, feeding, and living with her in the barn. However, once Edward found out the maid was teaching Lily to read and write, he fired her immediately and forced Lily to work for Petunia exclusively.

The young girl never thought, as she mended her own clothes, did her own laundry, and bathed in the nearby lake, that she would ever do anything but work for her father and sister. She never thought she had anything special, or would mean anything to anyone except the young maid who loved her like a child. Little did she know, she would be all she didn't think, and more.

And so begins the story of Lily.



Lily sat bolt upright, breathing hard. She pressed her small hand to her heart and slowly got off her "bed" – a mattress made of hay inside an empty sack of horse feed – with her heart still thumping from the rude awakening by the cook.

"I'm coming!" she yelled hurriedly, her voice hoarse from sleep. She glanced through one of the many cracks in the old barn wall and saw a faint pink tinge coming from the horizon. "Oh no!" she moaned to herself, "It's already light outside! Petunia is going to kill me!"

The girl reached for her old, tattered dress and a clean pair of underwear, noting that she only had one clean pair left, and made a mental note to do her laundry. She removed her also tattered white nightdress and put on her clothes, and then went over to her basin of clean water from the hose and cleaned her teeth and face. She dried her face on one of the two old towels she had, and then walked to the ladder. She leapt down it with practiced ease and ran to the huge mansion known by everyone as the Evans' House. As she was running, she realized with a start that today was July sixteenth – her eleventh birthday. Oh, well. Another one gone, she thought morosely.

The small redhead jogged through a back door that led to the kitchens. Once she entered the main kitchen, the cook shoved Petunia's breakfast in her arms and practically pushed her out the door. Lily climbed the back stairs and entered Petunia's huge bedroom. She released a breath that she wasn't aware she was holding – her sister was dead asleep – and quietly placed Petunia's breakfast on her table in the center of the room. She lit a fire in the grate and cleaned out Petunia's hairbrush, which rested on her large vanity. Lily looked up from placing the hairbrush back where it belonged and straight into the large mirror.

A pale, freckled face stared back at her, framed by dark red curls that tumbled down to her mid-back. It had gone below her knees, but Lily was able to steal the kitchen scissors and cut it to her shoulders, but that was a few months ago. She had rosy lips and flushed cheeks that were dirty because she hadn't been able to visit the lake and bathe lately.

But perhaps Lily's most startling feature was her bright green eyes that sparkled like precious jewels in the light.

A rustle from the king-sized bed startled her from her gazing and she quickly backed away from the mirror. She pretended to be poking at the fire.

"LILY!" Petunia screeched. Lily jumped and dropped the rot-iron poker merely centimeters from her toes. "STOP MAKING SO MUCH NOISE!" she roared.

"Sorry!" Lily said hastily. The last thing she wanted was to annoy her snobby sister.

"Well, now that you've woken me up," Petunia snapped as she got up from her bed, "I might as well eat my breakfast." Her limp blonde hair was tousled from sleep, making it look like she was a lion with a mane. Lily giggled suddenly.

Petunia jerked her head up from drinking her tea. "What's so funny?" she snapped.

"N – nothing, Petunia," replied Lily with a straight face.

"TELL ME!" she yelled.

"Erm," Lily said, swallowing, getting her giggles under control, "It's your hair."

Petunia jerked her head around to face her mirror and she shrieked.

"Lily! Brush my hair now!"

Lily exhaled and walked slowly to her as Petunia settled herself onto the cushioned seat in front of her vanity, and began brushing Petunia's thin hair.

"Dad is coming home today," Petunia said conversationally, leaning forward and rubbing at a newly-formed spot on her forehead.

"Oh." Lily didn't know he was gone.

"Yes, he went to visit Aunt Violet, and she's coming home with him to stay for a little bit," Petunia said nonchalantly.

"Who's that?" Lily asked, trying to untangle a piece of Petunia's hair.

"Oh, don't you remember? A long time ago when we had to clean you up and dress you properly?" she sneered.

Lily vaguely remembered dressing up for some woman whom she couldn't remember.

"Yes, she's quite young, only twenty-two last time she visited, that means now she must be twenty-five or six. Anyway, Dad told me I'm to find some decent clothing for you and you're to take a bath and fix your hair."

Lily's heart leapt. "When is she coming?"

"Some time this afternoon, I think. I didn't like her much, she's a little strange I think…but at least she wears the latest styles, plus she is extremely rich." Petunia sounded as though this made up for her being "a little strange". "I'll dress and shower first - you lay out clothes for me, then get Mary to go to the attic and get some of my clothes for you from when I was, oh, lets say, eight?" she smirked at Lily and flounced into her bathroom to take a shower.

Lily sighed and looked into the mirror again. She did indeed look to be around eight years old. She sighed again and went to find Mary.


It had been about three years since Lily had taken a proper shower, with hot water and real soap, and it was heaven to her. She then was dressed in a little pink, polka-dotted tea dress from when Petunia was eight – even though Lily secretly thought she must have been younger when she wore the dress – it was fraying and smelled musty from the attic. However, it felt wonderful to have her hair done by someone instead of vice-versa, and when Mary was done drying Lily's hair with a hair dryer, the effect was amazing. Lily looked much like her eleven-year-old self, even if she was too thin and not quite tall enough.

The sound of a car coming up the driveway meant Aunt Violet had arrived. Lily raced down the stairs, the front stairs, she was pleased to note, with Petunia sticking her nose up in the air and walking daintily behind, dressed in the latest style – a mini-dress and pearls. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, Lily hesitated. The great front door was only a few steps away…what would her father do when he saw her?

She didn't have time to ponder this further because at that moment, the door was flung open and a tall man with reddish hair entered. He was smiling jovially and holding a suitcase, which he gave to the butler. "Princess? Where's my-" He stopped dead when he saw not one child before him, but two. A blonde woman entered behind him and smiled at the girls.

Edward Evans cleared his throat. "Hello, Lily."

Lily replied in a small voice, "Hello, Father."

He quickly moved to Petunia and smiled at her, a true smile, and hugged her tightly.

Aunt Violet was indeed dressed in the latest style, just as Petunia had said. She had on a pink sleeveless dress and a scarf covering the top of her hair with large sunglasses over her eyes. Her blond hair was shoulder-length and flipped out. She was even prettier then the former American First Lady, Jackie Kennedy, whose style she was imitating.

Aunt Violet was a smart woman, and she noticed the exchange between Edward and Lily and then Edward and Petunia immediately. She removed her sunglasses, placed them in her pink handbag, and then gave it to the butler. She walked over to the tiny redhead, noticing the pain and longing in her eyes as she watched her father hug Petunia.

"Hello, Lily," the woman said and hugged her tightly. Lily tensed up as if she wasn't used to the affection. Violet frowned and greeted Petunia, but did not embrace her.

"Well, I must say, after that journey, I need to use the loo!" Violet exclaimed brightly, looking at the Evans's. "Lily, would you be a dear and show me where it is?"

Lily avoided her father's gaze, nodded, and led her Aunt Violet out of the room. Once they were out of earshot, Violet touched Lily gently on the shoulder and pulled her around to face her. She gasped. Lily's eyes were identical to her mother's, Violet's older sister. After a moment, when she was able to speak again, she whispered, "Actually, Lily, I just wanted to get away from them so I could have a chat with you. Why don't you show me to your room so we can talk by our selves?"

Lily bit her lip worriedly and said in a tiny voice, "I don't have a room."

Violet straitened up and sighed. This was worse than she thought. "Well then, do you know a place where we can talk by ourselves?"

Lily studied Violet for a minute and with the tiniest of nods, she started walking at a brisk pace. She led Violet out of the house by a side door and into an old barn. She climbed up a ladder leading to a hayloft effortlessly, while Violet had a bit of trouble because of her pink spiked heels. When she finally got up, she froze, her blue eyes roaming over everything: a sack of something that looked like hay in the corner, next to an old table with a basin of dirty water, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a towel next to it on its old surface.

Appalled, it took Violet some moments before remembering her niece was in the room with her. She joined her on the horse feed sack with hay in it and took one of the girl's small hands in hers and said, "Lily, is this where you sleep?"

Lily nodded.

"Oh, my," was all Violet could say. After a pause, she asked hesitatingly, "How long have you been up here?"

"A long time," she said, looking down at her lap and wriggling uncomfortably in her dress. Violet noticed how thin her arms were.

"Ah. And does your daddy ever come visit you up here?"

Still wriggling, the girl mumbled, "No."

Violet suppressed a sigh and looked around some more. "Does he give you clothes?"

"Petunia's old stuff," Lily said. "It's over there," she gestured to a pile of clothing in the corner.

"Why don't you wear it?" Violet asked with surprise.

"'Cause they don't fit," Lily said, shrugging her small shoulders. "In the winter I wear them sometimes."

"I see." They were silent for a moment, until Violet put a smile on her face and said as happily as she could, "And you're eleven today, aren't you?"

Lily looked up at her with wide, surprised green orbs. "How did you know?"

Violet frowned slightly. "Because it's your birthday. I always send you money on your birthday, dear."

"You do?" Lily echoed, her eyes becoming even wider.

Violet's jaw clenched – she felt a tinge of true anger sparking up in her. "Yes," she managed, trying to hold onto her temper, "that's also why I've come down." Oh, how could she have let it go this far? It was obvious her brother-in-law blamed Lily for Iris's death – a problem that made Violet's heart ache. She had to do something…she couldn't let Lily grow up like this-

Suddenly, overhead, there was a great flapping of wings and a small, brown owl landed right in front of Violet.


Did you like it? This idea has been in my head for quite some time, so if you want the next chapter, please review! I want at least five! Thanks!