Chapter 6
Dinners from the Neighbors
All hospitals smelled the same, no matter which one it was.
Petunia disliked hospitals on general principal. Even when she didn’t know anyone who was sick while she was on a school fieldtrip two years ago, she got queasy to the point where she crumbled to the floor and had to be taken out to sit on the sidewalk while the rest of the class finished their tour. But Petunia couldn’t get herself excused from the hospital this time, no matter how sick it made her. Her father was in here. Her father was in her, and leaving this place wouldn’t do a thing to change it.
The doctors were all rushing about, too busy to be bothered with any questions Petunia or her mother might have about her father’s condition. The mill, of course, was keeping as many details about the accident as they could to themselves. A giant disaster, workers in the hospital, and already they were thinking of the legal troubles that could stem from this.
Petunia and her mother had been allowed to visit with her father for a few moments. He was rather disoriented, though, and didn’t even seem to realize who they were. She couldn’t see any part of his body that wasn’t bound in bandages, so Petunia couldn’t even really tell what was wrong with him. The doctors wouldn’t tell her, as though they were afraid of ‘shattering her childhood innocence’, or some nonsense like that. They whispered the diagnosis to her mother in hushed tones, but her mother’s face had remained an expressionless mask ever since they arrive, offering Petunia no clues either.
“What about Lily?” Petunia asked out of the blue. But as soon as she finished the sentence, she suddenly shocked herself into a more alert state, as though she had just woken from a daze.
“I wrote a letter the headmaster,” Petunia’s mother told her. “As soon as he gets it, he’ll arrange to have Lily sent home.”
Petunia nodded and made a noncommittal hum, but she was distracted, not by the disgust she felt from the hospital, her worry for her father, or even her new hatred for the town mill. Petunia was thinking about her little sister and all the reasons she was finding it so difficult to push the younger girl out of her mind.
In a sudden movement, Petunia pushed herself up out of her waiting room chair and stood to her feet. “Where are you going?” her mother asked in a nervous tone, as though she were worried that Petunia might disappear if she wandered out of sight for even a moment.
“I just need something to drink, Mother,” Petunia answered without turning around to meet her eyes. “I’ll be back soon.”
Petunia’s mother nodded, but did not come after her. She remained seated on the hard plastic chair, looking quite pale and more shaken than Petunia had ever seen her before.
Petunia was quite the opposite. Maybe she was quiet, like her mother, but she was hardly motionless. She paced back and forth down the hallways, passing the coffee machine several times but not once stopping for it. Occasionally, she would move closer to the wall so she could tap out jittered rhythms against the plaster,
Why shouldn’t Lily come back here? There was no reason why the rest of the family had to go through this while she was away playing witch in an enchanted castle. A good family tragedy might be just the thing her perfect little sister needed to bring her back down to earth.
Then Petunia scolded herself for thinking of using her injured father as a way to get back at her sister.
Lily was scheduled to arrive home Thursday morning at nine thirty. Their father died Wednesday night at eight fifty-seven. He woke up with an infection, and finished his supper, and then he was dead.
Petunia and her mother picked Lily up from Platform Nine and Three Quarters two days later. It was the first time Petunia had been to Kings Cross in more than two years.
They were standing at the platform, but Lily was not coming by train. They were hardly going to run an entire train just for precious Lily Evans. Even she wasn’t that special! All the same, it was better that these freaks didn’t do anything in their hometown that would draw the attention of the neighbors.
At some point between a small crowd passing by the platform, Lily appeared with the same stern-looking woman who had delivered her school letter, appearing far more sympathetic now. With her hand on Lily’s shoulder, she pushed the red-haired girl in the direction of her family, though she did not leave the brick barrier herself. She was probably waiting for the first opportunity she could get to slip back to the world of the wizards, where none of her students had dead fathers.
Lily didn’t say anything, but immediately threw her arms around Petunia’s shoulders. As though she had missed her or expected some sort of comfort.
Lily left her trunk at the side of the front door. Naturally, it was far too large to take it up the stairs, but it was usually kept in the hall cupboard while Lily was home. The girl didn’t even bother to take anything from it. Straight after walking through the front door, Petunia watch her sister go up the staircase without any real sense of purpose or direction. Her mother, on the other hand, made her way for the kitchen. At first, Petunia though her mother needed to clean, or make dinner, or do some other household chore. But when she went to check on her mother more than an hour later, she found her sitting at the kitchen table, limps limp and eye listless. It was almost as though she hadn’t moved since they had first gotten home.
At nine at night, Lily had finally found Petunia, complaining that she was hungry. There was plenty of food in the kitchen, and their mother had finally left her chair for her bed, but Petunia had only a limited knowledge of cooking. And she doubted that Lily would be able to focus her attention long enough to make anything herself. The simple sandwiches on stale bread were a rather pathetic meal, but the sisters ate every bite of it in silence.
Before they left the kitchen for bed, as well, Petunia found her mother’s collection of cookbooks, choosing the thickest book in the stack. It was then Petunia resolved to make the book her bedtime reading so that she and her sister might not starve to death.
In truth, it later proved to be a rather pointless effort. Women were constantly stopping by the house, dropping off casseroles, desserts, and all kinds of meals in covered dishes that the family lived off of. It was a lot of fat and garbage, as far as Petunia was concerned, but it was far better than anything Petunia could make herself. And Lily had yet to complain about anything she had been fed either, so in a way, that was almost more important.
Petunia had never been to a funeral before, or a wake. She had been lucky up until this point, in her fifteen years of life, she had never known one person who died. It was still a bit difficult for her to believe her first funeral was going to be for her own father.
The actual morning of the funeral was a cold, dreary October day. Petunia was awake when the sun was barely up. Lily slept on, even as Petunia loudly paced their bedroom floor. Even in sleep, her little sister’s face was pale and her lips were pursed, eyes shut tight as though she were doing everything possible to keep from waking to this world, where there was no magic and simply waving a wand would fix nothing.
For a short moment, Petunia contemplated making as much noise as possible to force her little sister back into reality. Instead, however, she decided to make her way through the house and make sure it was ready for all the people that would be coming to their home that afternoon. She did make sure to slam the bedroom door quite loudly on her way out, though.
Every possible surface in the Evans household was covered with flowers that had been coming by delivery for days now. The vast amount of color that was now scattered throughout the house was almost obscene in a way, seeing as they were meant to be symbols of mourning for a man’s death. Petunia grabbed a rag from one of the kitchen drawers and began cleaning the water rings from spilled vases. Once she was satisfied with the completion of this small task, she began clearing the kitchen counter and searching for any available space to move the flower arrangements to. They would need the room for all the food that their guests would more than likely be bringing.
Lily hadn’t been still the whole time she was home. At the same time though, she hadn’t taken out her wand, her schoolbooks, or any of her other little witch toys. She paced her way through the house, often time late into the night. Occasionally, she would help Petunia out with some of the household chores or even greet the floods of visitors so Petunia wouldn’t have to deal with them. Oddly enough, even though they had yet to have a real conversation, it was the most meaningful relationship the two of them had shared in years.
Petunia just wished it had come under better circumstances.
There was a drizzling rain at the graveyard, the kind of rain that an umbrella was completely useless in, causing the black clothing of the gathered crowd clung to their bodies, the smell of wet wool and linen mixing in the air.
Petunia, her mother, and her sister stood at the front of the crowd, closest to the priest, reciting his words of dust to dust, Roger Evans is, Roger Evans was, Roger Evans will be never more. Petunia’s mother wore a black veil over a pillbox hat, hiding her face from the world. The two sisters stood just behind her, in velvet skirts and wool coats, their hair tied back, away from their faces. At some point in the service, Petunia became aware of Lily’s icy fingers slipping into her hand, but Petunia was already so numb herself, she barely noticed the feeling, even as she squeezed Lily’s hand back.
Once the priest had finished his part in the service, the expansive black crowd began descending upon the grave, taking turns throwing handfuls of muddy dirt onto the casket. Once this was done, they left. It was a logical response; who would want to stay in a place like this? Gradually, the mass of people became smaller and smaller; even the priest left. Finally, all that was left at the gravesite was what remained of the Evans family, standing in a tight cluster as the rain seeped into them.
“We should go now.” Petunia was the one who eventually broke the silence. “The guests will get to our house before we do.”
Her mother seemed somewhat in a daze, staring out into space, but not really seeing anything. Even when Petunia tugged at her hand to lead her to the car, Lily’s hand in the other, she still seemed distracted. Petunia was a bit concerned about how well her mother would be able to drive a car. If she weren’t so worried about being stopped by the police, Petunia might have tried to drive them back home herself. But instead, she led Lily to the backseat and took the passenger seat for herself, watching every hazy movement her mother made, startling at the slightest swerves in direction.
At the house, people poured into the tiny brick house, expressing their condolences, offering hugs and touches on the shoulder. Petunia never had time to stay still for the whole event. It was just as well. If Petunia didn’t have anything to do, she knew she would most likely go insane.
Her mother remained seated in this same chair, as though she were on display for all the guests to see. People would try to hug her, touch her on the shoulder, but she remained as still and stiff as she had been for days. At the very least, she was one thing Petunia wouldn’t have to watch every moment.
Lily never did sit down. She had to have moved at some point, Petunia had seen her in different parts of the house throughout the day, but she always remained in the same position: back straight, hands folded, head cast down. You couldn’t even see her eyes through her dark red fringe; at least Petunia couldn’t. Every now and then, she would throw her arms around Petunia in a spontaneous hug, just as she had been doing ever since she arrived home; but she would never stay long enough for her sister to actually say anything to her.
At some point during the afternoon, she was stopped going down the hallway, she was stopped by a familiar face: Mrs. Roberts, her history teacher. She couldn’t really recall inviting her, but possibly she had been told by the school. When someone the students knew died, it seemed to become the business of everyone who worked at the school, right down to the caretakers. Thankfully, she hadn’t seen any of them yet.
“Oh, Miss Evans,” she said, shocking Petunia by putting her arms around her, “I’m so sorry.”
What had been people’s obsession with hugging lately? It was just plain disturbing. And she actually liked this teacher, in fact! She didn’t want this same uncomfortable feeling she felt in her stomach right now to occur in every class she took. Better just to play along with so it would pass as fast as possible.
She allowed her teacher to go one talking, prepared words that she had probably read out of a book that might have been comforting if she had not heard them all a thousand times a day.
“It must be a comfort to have your sister home from school, at least,” Mrs. Roberts said suddenly, forcing Petunia to actually start paying attention once again. “How long will she be staying here?”
This had been the first time anyone had ever mentioned Lily in days. Possibly because they felt it was more important to focus on Petunia when they spoke to her, and bringing up another member of her family would only make her feel worse. In truth, it was what it finally took her to pay real attention to someone outside of their home was saying.
“How long will she be with you?”
Petunia pondered. She didn’t really have a prepared answer for this. “I don’t know. I don’t think for very long. She goes to a very prestigious school and she’s missed a lot of work already. I don’t think she’ll be allowed to be away for much longer.”
“Oh, I think her school would be kind enough to let her stay for a few days, at least. Possibly even a week or two.”
Petunia nodded along. She hadn’t really considered how long Lily would be staying home.
“Her father just died,” Mrs. Roberts said in a forceful sort of way. “Your father just died. It’s only natural that you should all be together as a family for a time.”
Petunia nodded again and again until the teacher finally seemed satisfied with her own words and moved on to speak with another guest. The more she thought about Lily staying, the more she began to embrace the idea. She and Lily had become very close in the past few days, even if it had been in a very unconventional sort of way. She knew she had drawn comfort from her little sister’s close presence in this time, and she convinced herself that Lily had as well.
When their guests had begun leaving, Lily threw her arms around Petunia’s neck once again, but this time, she didn’t leave her sister’s side. They didn’t talk, but she would help Petunia pick up litter as they moved through the house, wiped up spills, and eventually was the one to help her mother up into bed.
When she came back down, the girls finally had their first real conversation.
“How many people were here today?” Lily asked, when she walked into the kitchen.
Petunia sighed. “Too many. There are leftovers in the refrigerator.”
“I don’t want food,” Lily told her, moving over to the flower collection on the counter. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Tuney, but you’re not a good cook.”
Petunia laughed a little bit, not at all feeling the sting of the insult. “I need more practice.”
Lily’s fingertips continued to trace after the dozens of flower petals until she finally stopped at one vase: a rather large arrangement of white lilies with an aged envelope tape to the side. Lily picked up the small cards settled inside the large blooms. “Hey, Tuney! This one’s from Sev.”
She couldn’t believe she had missed that one! Of course, so many flowers had come through the house, they were all starting to look alike now.
Lily next move was to take the envelope. “He must have asked his parents to order them. I don’t know how he convinced his dad. That man is hardly the type to throw away money on flowers.”
Slicing the envelope open, Lily paced across the kitchen floor and read the letter to her sister, as though it were something Petunia actually cared about. “He says he’s taking really good notes in class so I don’t miss anything. He’s even going to send me copies to read while I’m at home…Lots of people at school are asking about me. Sev says he’s taking letters and parcels from people so he can send them to me, but he’s going to make sure nothing from James Potter or his creepy friends get through.”
Petunia couldn’t stand the direction the talk had taken. She didn’t want Lily to talk about school! She didn’t want to talk about anything that might hint that her sister would be leaving anytime soon! If she wasn’t at home, she might as well have not been on earth at all!
“But nothing about our father?” Petunia asked snidely.
Lily seemed confused by her sister’s response. Her eyes peered over the top of the parchment and one of her eyebrows was raised.
Petunia elaborated. “Does he actually say he is sorry that our father is dead, or ‘greatest sympathies’ or anything like that?”
Lily shook her head, as though unsure of the best way to answer the question. “Sev has never been very good at talking about feelings. But I can tell he feels bad for us, even if he doesn’t say it outright.”
Petunia snorted at this weak justification. “All he seems to do is talk about that freak school of yours. You’d think you were just taking a holiday from the way he writes.”
“I’ve told you, Sev is not good at talking about feelings!” Lily shouted with her hands on hips. “But I don’t think that’s really it!”
Petunia looked up and glared at her sister.
“Sev could have shown up here himself and even helped carry the casket, and I still don’t think you would be satisfied.”
“And I’ll bet you’ll be flying back to that school the first chance you get!”
“What would you have me do, Tuney?” Lily asked. Drop out of Hogwarts, start at a Muggle school where I’m three years behind everyone else and just stay here for the rest of my life?”
“Would that really be so terrible?”
“Yes!” Lily exclaimed. “Tuney, do you have any idea how much I have learned at Hogwarts? I’m at nearly the top of my class in Charms, Professor Slughorn says Sev and I both have the potential to become some of the greatest Potion-makers of our generation. I just started learning Ancient Runes, and you would not believe how fascinating it is to learn how to read a writing system that is thousands of years old””
“Yes, our precious little Lily leads such a charmed life. It would be a crime to tear her away from it!” Petunia interrupted sarcastically.
Lily threw the letter down to the surface of the kitchen table. “Not to mention that I still have problems controlling my magic from time to time. If I ever do have a major slip because I can’t control myself, it could be a disaster!”
“Very nice, Lily!” Petunia shouted up the staircase. “Show the whole world what a civilized lady that wizarding world has made you!”
Upstairs, Petunia heard the door slammed, and she wonder if the door was locked as well. She also wondered how many sisters slept on the couch after a fight.
But Esau Have I Hated... by OliveOil_Med
Chapter Notes: Death brings the Evans family together once again, but how long will it last?
Thank you to my lovely beta, m_w!