Lily "Mrs Prongs" Potter (lilyjpotter) wrote in valloic, @ 2022-08-26 21:57:00 |
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A simple Patronus-message charm would tell her if James was here too, but honestly, Lily couldn’t bring herself to cast it. Not yet. She needed a little more time with her hope before she went and blew it out. They’d beaten the odds before - who else their age could say they’d escaped Voldemort’s wand twice? But given that she’d been brought to this place on their wedding day, Lily was leant to think that fortune no longer favoured them. Still dressed and styled for her wedding (taking it off felt like admitting defeat, and anyway, what did she care if people looked at her oddly?), Lily walked along a nameless corridor, twirling her wand between her fingers and wondering who she should risk sending a Patronus too. In what order should she spend her hope? They’d said that people could come from all times, so perhaps it would be easiest to start with someone dead? It’d hurt less then, wouldn’t it? If it didn’t work. She’d settled on casting a message to Mary Macdonald when—unbelievably—she saw what looked like her sister coming out of the nearest door. “Tuni!” Lily exclaimed, voice thick with gladness and relief, as she started towards her elder sister at once. “You, too?” Finding herself in a city that was very much not Little Whinging, or any other place she had ever been before, Petunia could only describe her current state as distraught. Her instinct had been to assume that she, Remus, and Harry had been found out, that the war had resumed too quickly, that she'd been Portkeyed to a place where she could not protect her nephew. Mistrusting of everything and everyone around her while working under that assumption, she had been reluctant to follow the man who'd come for her claiming to be a representative of some organization for outlanders in some world she could honestly say she'd never heard of. Enzo, if she remembered correctly. Nothing added up and everything only served to make her more and more certain that everything she was experiencing was a part of some greater ploy to get to Harry. She did follow him, though, despite nearly everything in her initially telling her to run. He’d assured her that she’d find all of the answers she needed if she came with him and suddenly some small part of her wondered if the fastest way to get to her nephew would be to see who was behind this and to determine how exactly they were attempting to get what they wanted. It was that hope, however faint, that found her sitting through a presentation where each explanation was more fantastical and more improbable than the next. Nothing they said calmed her fears, even if the sinking realization that she was not at home or able to return to it was beginning to settle in. After all, despite the fact that she was perhaps as safe as she could be here, she was very much so not at home taking care of the only thing that mattered. Regardless of the assurances she was given that no one would notice her absence, Petunia noticed her absence, and that was enough to keep the panic from disipating completely. At least for the moment, that panic was expertly hidden behind the sort of composure that could only come from reluctant acceptance. Until... That voice. Not for the first time that evening, Petunia pushed herself back against the wall, wand immediately drawn--wizarding secrect be damned. Her baby sister running toward her, enveloped in tulle and lace and the very picture of a Lily that Petunia had not seen in too long. Her wand hand shook and she forced it to steady. It was not as easy to steady her voice. "What is this?" she asked, voice clipped, catching. "Who are you? If you think this is funny, I assure you it is not." Lily came to a halt some feet in front of her sister, hurt. Yes, there was a war on, and precautions had to be taken, but never before had Petunia looked at her with such apparent coldness while holding a wand on her. “What on earth do you mean, who am I?” But even as she spoke, Lily’s mind turned over, making connections and coming to a series of realisations that what her sister actually was was spooked. Her mouth dropped open for a fraction of a second, and then she lifted her chin up. She wouldn’t make assumptions about what meant, not yet. “Lily Jacqueline Potter, as of earlier today,” Lily said clearly, and didn’t fuss about with trying to prove who she was; she simply held her wand out for Petunia to take from her. “You can have my wand for now if you’d like, all I’ve been doing with it is putting off seeing if James is here, too.” Petunia was quick to take the wand–her sister? a conjuration of a memory?--this person offered her. She was all but certain that this was a trap, a nasty trick, but she if she had a chance to eliminate part of the threat by taking what was offered, she would. It was a struggle to steady her breath as she took in the woman before her. She was Lily in so many ways that counted, from the cautious hope in her voice to the gentle defiance in her stare. But Petunia had had a year to make herself accept the tragedy that Lily's brilliance was gone and no amount of videos or explanations could convince her that hoping for a different outcome would end in anything but heartache. But…still. A tiny flicker of hope sparked inside of her traitorous heart, anyway. “What did I give you on your 4th birthday?” Petunia held the wand steady, not daring to fan the flames of maybe until she was sure. Lily smiled, and brushed her hair away from her face. “A teacup and saucer with paper flowers in it.” Petunia felt a sob catch in her throat. But it wasn't enough, not yet. “And what did I say to you before you walked down the aisle?” There could only be one reason there was that look on her sister’s face, and Lily took a slight breathe, rocking back on her heels to stop herself from reaching for her sister. And though there was as sparkle of tears in her eyes, Lily’s smile broadened. “You told me you had your wand in your bouquet and you’d incapitate Potter when I ran away if I needed it, I just had to tug on my earlobe twice.” Lily leaned forward slightly, as if sharing a secret. “Naturally, I tugged once, just to keep you on your toes.” And she winked. A moment passed between the sisters. And then another, Petunia not wavering. Another beat. And then Petunia’s resolve faltered and then broke completely as her wand hand fell to her side and she rushed forward to pull her sister flush against her, unsure whether it was comfort or sorrow that she took from the realness of her. “Lily,” she breathed. “It's you.” “It’s me, Tuni,” Lily confirmed, hugging her just as tightly, a throb of emotion in her voice at her sister’s clear distress. She turned her head to press a single kiss on her cheek, and then pulled back a little, one hand naturally clasping her sister’s. With the knack for slight incidences of wandless magic that she’d never lost, certaintly never with her own wand, Lily made her wand float back to her and tuck itself back into her hair. She was smiling, tears in her eyes. He got me then, did he? she refrained from saying. There was no need to make Petunia confirm the obvious, not just yet. “James?” she asked instead, her hand tightening ever so slightly on her sister’s. Here she was in her wedding dress, her wedding band newly slipped on her finger, praying that her sister would say she’d made James a widower. The embrace ended too soon. It would always be too soon to let go of Lily, if Petunia were honest, but she allowed the distance as she clung to her sister’s hand. She swallowed hard, unable to conceal the heartbreak in her eyes. “I didn’t think to ask if he might be here,” she replied. It wasn’t an answer to the unspoken question, but also it was. Lily laughed, even though absolutely nothing was funny. “Let’s hope so,” she said, feeling inane and light-headed about James’s death in a way she didn’t quite with her own. She squeezed her sister’s hand, ignored the voice wanting to ask how long she and James had had together, and forced a smile. “At least we’re here together now.” Petunia felt a pang at that. Maybe she was dead, too, and maybe she preferred an afterlife where there were reunited, but… but Harry. Whatever this place was, she could stop hoping for a way out, a way back to the little boy who needed her. If Lily knew Harry, she’d understand. Petunia believed that. “There are important things to tell you,” Petunia said carefully, both wanting to tell Lily about Harry as soon as possible and not wanting to overwhelm her. She squeezed Lily’s hand that she held in her own. “For now, let’s see if we can find your husband.” |