(A/N: I don’t own this world. The characters belong to J.K Rowling. The plot is mine though.)


Imagine how it would feel being the last one to bear your last name. No particular family, few relative, no one to count on. Imagine being the last in line, the only one who could hold your head up high and say “yes, thank you very much, I am an Evans.” I’m only eighteen. Looking back, when I started Hogwarts, I imagined my graduation day being full of family. My parents would be there, laughing and smiling. My mother would say, “That’s our daughter! A fully trained witch, and beautiful to boot. We’re so proud of you honey!” My father would have clapped me on the back, his eyes a bit moist. I imagined that, by then, Tuney would have gotten over her grudge against me. She would hug me and we would go have dinner as a family. Then I would be off to start whatever career I had chosen.


There is just over a month until end of year and there isn’t a chance of my daydream coming true. Actually, none of my family will be at my graduation. There isn’t anyone left. My father was an only child, and Mum’s sibling had already passed away. My grandparents all died before I went to Hogwarts. The first one to go out of my immediate family was Tuney. I came home from Hogwarts last summer, expecting to have some time off from writing essays and preparing for NEWTS, some time to relax. My dad met me at the train station, wearing a fixed sort of look. It surprised me, to say the least. Usually both my parents were there, wanting to see my friends. We would usually stop somewhere on the way home to pick up food for dinner that night. Sometimes Petunia even came, though she had not recently. My dad showing up alone was just one cause for alarm. The other was the look plastered to his face. He was a cheerful sort, serious though able to see the best in a situation. I hadn’t seen a look like this in quite a while.


“Is everything alright,” I asked, looking up at him questioningly. He looked older than when I had last seen him, perhaps with more wrinkles or with a few more grey hairs showing. He was grumbling to himself, something he only does when he’s upset or trying to work out how to say something. I had my trunk on the trolley, and wheeled it forward while I waited for him to collect his thoughts. We were almost to the car before he answered me.


“Honey, I have some bad news. It’s about Petunia.”


I froze. I hoped he wasn’t implying what I thought. He appeared to not notice my sudden stop, for he continued talking.


“Do you remember last Christmas, when Petunia brought that boy home?”



I wished I could forget that boy. He was a true git. He matched his last name well. I remember settling down for supper on Christmas Eve, placing the last dish of food on the table. My mum had just sat down, and Dad was just waiting for Petunia to step in before he carved the ham. I heard a door slam and voices in the entry. I whipped up my wand quickly. I doubted that it would be Death Eaters, but a girl a year below me had lost her parents to the monsters just before Christmas break. There was no reason to take unnecessary chances. Big mistake. For what to my wondering eyes should appear, not Death Eaters rounding the corner, but my dear elder sister with some strange man. She was glaring at me, but my wand was tucked fast away and I had eyes only for this unpleasant man. He was gruff looking, of average height, and fat. Not the type of fat that is warm and encompassing and gives off an air of comfort, but a gross, sickly fat, one that suggests a coronary bypass should take place sooner than later. I could tell my mum was surprised. For one, my mum liked Christmas Eve dinner to be a time for family. We could invite anyone we like over for dinner on Christmas day, but Christmas Eve was just ours. We kept the tree lit, cooked, ate dinner, and drove to midnight service. We’d done this every year for as long as I could remember. Petunia breaking tradition was not going to go over well. Also, the bloke wasn’t even dressed properly. His pants were far too tight, revealing lines I’m sure my mother had no desire to see, and his tie wasn’t even tied correctly. He was wearing some cheap, boring tie with the end barely past his midsection. I could see my dad frowning at this. He was a fairly conservative man and prided himself on knowing how to tie his tie in plenty of ways.


The bloke standing in the entryway obviously sensed our discomfort, for he stepped forward and said,


“Vernon Dursley. How do you do?”


That was it. No ‘hello, sir, how are your holidays’ or ‘Madame, your dress looks fabulous’ or any other form of pleasantries. My parents seemed flabbergasted. I wasn’t surprised. Upon hearing his name, I had an idea of who he was. His father had owned a drill bit company, a company that had remained in the family since it was first created. Upon his father’s death, rumor had it that Vernon had sold part of the company to a drilling company for a fair chunk of change and an executive job. I guess I had found out what my sister saw in him.


“This is my boyfriend, Father and Mother. I invited him to join us for supper tonight,” Petunia said stiffly. They were both still standing in entryway so my mother stood and pulled over an extra chair, putting it in between Petunia and my dad, but across from me. I could tell by now that this was not going to be an enjoyable night. And so it wasn’t (stupid self-fulfilling prophesies). I had to watch my sister simper over Dursley all night, and listen to him belch and talk mundanely about work. Any time the conversation would turn toward me, Tuney would turn the conversation back toward herself or Vernon. Still, my dad finally managed to get a word in.


“So Lilykins, how’s your studying going,” my dad asked, turning to look at me. I knew he was fascinated by what I was learning in school and was concerned I hadn't had enough time to finish my homework over the break, but a glance over at Petunia told me that now was not the time. A loud scraping sound startled me. I almost drew my wand again but thought better of it. I was only Vernon scooting forward at the mention of my school, a malicious grin plastered to his ugly face.


“So you go to a school for magicians eh,” he barked, looking maniacal. I did not like the direction this conversation was going. Petunia never mentioned my magic to anyone, nor was she permitted to. My parents made that clear the day that Professor Dumbledore showed up on our front porch. The idea that this blundering fool knew anything was outside of my realm of comfort.


“I’m not quite sure I’m following you,” I said, gritting my teeth and glaring at him. It was the same glare that stopped Potter in his tracks so many times. This Dursley guy had some nerve though. He chose to keep talking.


“Oh I think you know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” he sneered. “That school you go to. The one that teaches you how to turn normal things into rats and spiders.”


From the looks of it, Dursley was pretty stupid. I looked at him and grinned, which seemed to catch him off guard.


“You do realize,” I said slowly, “that if what you say is true, I could easily turn you into something too.” I stopped for a moment and gave him a quick up and down, the way I’d only seen Sirius do to the Slytherin brother of his, the brother who was likely to turn to the path of darkness and betray his brother as a blood traitor. “Perhaps a pig,” I mused. Very much to my surprise, he didn’t back down.


“You’re a freak,” he hissed at me, eyes alight with malice. “You will always be a freak. Your sister is lucky to have escaped from this foolishness.”


His words stung. For me, family had meant so much. They offered hope and support even when my world seemed like it was going to collapse inward. He made it seem like I was the only reason that Petunia fought with our parents. At this point, my dad stood up. He had seen the hurt in my eyes; he knew that deadly tone of mine. I had a temper. I didn’t, wouldn’t step down from something I felt strongly about. My father stood protectively, his eyes gleaming with pride of his family.


“You have insulted my family,” my dad said, glaring at the boy. “I believe that it is time for you to leave.” My sister stood up at this.


“Dad, why should Vernon have to leave? He only said what’s true. How is it his fault that Lily is what she is?” she questioned my dad. That surprised me. I knew that she hadn’t kept my secret, but this sort of betrayal I didn’t imagine. My dad sighed, apparently not wanting to push this issue.


“Just go,” he sighed. “We don’t need this right now.”


Dursley stood up, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door. I could hear him muttering on the way out something about freaks. Suddenly, I heard Dursley yelp in the hall way. I tried not to laugh. You see, in the quickest piece of magic I’d done in quite a while, not to mention wandless, I had adjusted Dursley’s tie to a proper length and tightness. I guessed I wasn’t something he was used to.


In the time that I had been staring at the empty door way, Petunia had stood up and was now heading out as well.


“Where are you going, young lady?” my dad asked, having sat back down at the head of the table. His eyes caught hers, and a sudden rush of emotions crossed her face, before they returned to the cold expression which had been plastered there ever since I had returned home for winter break.


“I’m going back out with Vernon. His sister invited us over for Christmas dinner.”


At this notice, it wasn’t my dad who reacted, but my mum.


“You will be staying right here, Petunia,” she said in a tone that would not allow any arguing. “Our dinner has already been disrupted enough for one night. This is our family tradition, and you will take part in it. Please, let’s just have some peace and quiet. It’s Christmas,” my mother pleaded, for the sake of our family, for the sake of good will and joy. My sister begrudgingly sat back down and ate dinner with our family, went to midnight service with our family, and settled into a sort of truce with me. She and I wouldn’t talk, and she didn’t bring over or mention that Vernon Dursley again while I was on break.



I turned back to my dad as he finished loading my trunk into the car, shoving it a little harder than he normally would. I could tell he was angry, and wisely chose to wait to speak until after he got my trunk in place.


“I remember him,” I said slowly. “Why, what’s wrong, Dad?”


My dad glanced at me as we got into the car to head home. He took a deep breath and gauged my mood. I had gotten my red hair from him, as well as my green eyes, and he had long known about our famous red hair temper. I was a bit more even-kiltered than he was, I hoped. Nothing had prepared me for what he was about to say though.


“Lily, your sister is getting married. To Vernon Dursley.”


(A/N: For the purpose of comedy and to enhance the plot of this story, Lily’s piece of underage magic wouldn’t have been traced. It seems logical that, while on winter break from Hogwarts, while the students still have homework, the tracer on underage magic would be inactive.)