It took three trains and much hanging around in deserted, crumbling station waiting rooms until the three girls arrived at Brackenfen. Aching from a cramped night’s sleep, they didn’t feel up to exploring at six A.M.
“Shall we wait in here for a bit?” suggested Lily, pointing to a dingy station cafe. “We might get some breakfast, or something.”
They walked inside; a man in his fifties stood behind a counter. He had grey, greased back hair and grimy fingernails. Lily decided not to ask for a homemade sandwich, but returned with three, rather stewed, cups of tea and three biscuits. She pointed to a notice on the wall which read‘No breakfast served until 7 A.M.’ Mary giggled and bit into her biscuit which bent rather than snapped because it was stale. “Blah!” She spat it out. “That’s revolting!”
The man behind the counter glared at her. She blushed and pushed the biscuit away from her.
“You Brits sure put up with shoddy service!” said a man at the next table. “Don’t you ever complain?”
Again, the man behind the counter glared. “We don’t need any trouble from the likes of you!” he said.
“All I asked for was a hotter cup of coffee,” whispered the man, who was young, probably in his twenties. “It seems to be a Federal offence ’round here.”
Lily smiled; he took that as an invitation and walked over.
“May I join you?” he asked politely.
She nodded, and, recognising his soft accent, said, “Are you from America?”
“Why, yes, ma’am,” he drawled in the way she’d heard cowboys speak in the movies. He grinned. “What gave it away?” he said in a less accented way. “The jeans? The sneakers? The coffee, or the accent?”
Lily laughed, then caught her breath as he turned his smile on her. Glory, he was handsome! she thought. Broad-shouldered and muscular, his hair was cropped very short which only seemed to emphasise the startling blue of his eyes. He looked too good to be true, as if he’d stepped straight out of a movie.
“I’m Richard, by the way. Richard Soule, or Rich to my friends.”
“L-Lily,” she stuttered. “Lily Evans. And these are Mary and Martha Macdonald.”
“Well, hello there, Lily-Lily Evans,” he said teasingly, as she flushed. “What brings you here?”
“Oh,” said Martha, “we’re trying to find the birthplace of... OW!” She stopped as Mary kicked her hard on the shin.
Rich smiled. “The birthplace of whom?”
“Oh, no one you know - it’s one of the founders of our school,” continued Mary.
“What are you doing here?” asked Lily.
He picked up his book, A Guide to Britain.
“Just bumming around for a bit. Not sure how long I’ll stay here for. Most of the people in this town seem to be stuck in some 1940’s time warp.”
Mary and Martha looked blank, but Lily nodded - she’d heard tales from her grandparents.
“Us Yanks came over here to fight during the war and caused a bit of a stir in the community. There were three things wrong with us. We were overpaid, oversexed, and over here!” he declared loudly, in the direction of the counter.
Lily giggled, a strange girly giggle. Really, she thought, what has come over me?
He drained his cup. “Urgh, you Brits don’t know how to make coffee either. Ladies, it’s been a pleasure, but I must love you and leave you.”
“Oh!” said Lily dispiritedly.
He looked at her downcast face. “Maybe we’ll meet again Lily-Lily,” he said softly, and then sauntered out of the railway cafe.
“Wow!” said Martha. “He’s gorgeous.”
“Bit too smooth,” said Mary, wrinkling her nose.
“I’ll take the smooth over rough any day,” said Lily dreamily.
Mary looked at her oddly. “Lily Evans, you sound like a page from Witch Weekly. I thought you weren’t interested in romance.”
“Spending time with you sighing over Remus must have rubbed off on me. I can dream, can’t I?” said Lily, blushing slightly. “Actually, I think it’s Martha you should be strict with - first Sirius, now Rich.”
“Hmm,” said Mary. She seemed unwilling to let the matter drop, but she turned to her sister all the same. “Lily has a point. You seemed very keen on Sirius, Martha.”
It was Martha’s turn to blush. “There’s no way Sirius would ever be interested in a fifth year - he’s way too cool.”
“Wouldn’t be too sure of that,” said Lily. “He spent enough time with you at the Potters’ house. All that horsing around while playing Quidditch - he seemed interested.”
“That’s probably because I was the only available female,” said Martha.
“He was never that interested in Sonia, was he, Mary?” argued Lily. “And what do you mean ‘only available female’? I’m available!” She stopped and laughed as she realised what she’d said. “No, I don’t mean it like that. I am not interested in Sirius. Mary, stop looking at me like that. You know I’m not interested in him.”
“It’s not Sirius I’m thinking about,” Mary said seriously.
“Oh, not Potter again?” said Lily. “I am not interested in Potter either.”
“You seemed to be getting on well at Godric’s Hollow,” said Martha, pleased that the conversation was taking them away from Sirius. “At least, you weren’t at his throat the whole time.”
“Oh, well, we’ve sort of reached an ... err ... understanding,” muttered Lily.
“What?” Mary and Martha shrieked together. The man at the counter glared at them fiercely, although there were no other customers to disturb.
“So you’re going out together?” said Mary.
“No?” said Lily in puzzlement, then it clicked. “Not that sort of understanding, silly. I mean he apologised to me for being a jerk this year, and has said he’ll leave me alone.”
“And you’re happy with that?” questioned Mary.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s perfect. Things will be so much better at school. I’ll be able to concentrate on things,” said Lily, aware that she was babbling.
“So he distracted you before, then?” said Martha, winking at Mary.
“Oh, you two are infuriating at times!” moaned Lily. “For the last time: there never has been, nor will there ever be, anything between me and James.”
“She called him James,” said Mary excitedly. “Martha, she called him James!”
Lily picked up the remains of her stale biscuit and threw it at her friend.
“OY!” yelled the man behind the counter. “No hooligans in my cafe. Get out, NOW!”
Apologising profusely to the man, Lily grabbed her things and ran out. Mary and Martha followed her, still giggling.
They sat on a bench outside the station and Lily pulled out their map. Hereward had drawn a path but had warned them that Salazar Slytherin had probably made his birthplace Unplottable. It could have Muggle-repelling charms and all sorts of jinxes surrounding it - maybe only pure-bloods could enter. He’d been unsure whether they’d work after all this time.
“Let’s try anyway,” said Lily. “It’s silly to come all this way and not bother.”
They left the bench and walked towards the coast. It was starting to spit with rain and they were glad of their cloaks.
“Merlin, it’s a miserable day!” Martha said, sighing. “I wonder if they ever see the sun.”
“Must mean we’re on the right track,” Mary replied. “It’s an ugly place. No Muggles would choose to live here.”
They walked on for a while. The landscape, though desolate, was compelling. With no hills, the horizon stretched out far in front of them. Lily lifted her head to the distance and, not looking where she was going, suddenly slipped.
“OW!” she shrieked, as her foot went down a rabbit hole. “Oh, Salazar, that hurts!” She crouched down holding her ankle with both hands.
“Lily, can you walk?” asked Mary urgently.
“Yes,” she replied. “I think it’s just twisted.” But her face went white as she stood up and put weight on it. She sank back to the ground. “Oh, Merlin, I think it’s broken.”
“Do you know how to mend bones?” said Mary anxiously.
“No, but what good would that do? We can’t use magic.”
“I think this could be classed as an emergency, Lily,” said Mary grimly. “I’d try something but if I get it wrong, it’ll end up worse. Blast, where’s a Healer when you need one?”
They helped Lily up and carried her back to the main path.
“We’ll have to get you back to the town and find a hospital,” said Mary.
“My dad would splint this first,” Lily said through gritted teeth.
It started to rain again: not the light drizzle they’d been walking in, but sheets of rain that pounded into them. Through all this, Lily thought she could hear a voice. She looked over her shoulder; someone was approaching them “ fast. As the figure came nearer, she sighed in relief.
“Did someone send for the Cavalry?” Rich said as he stood before them.
Mary looked annoyed at his flippant tone, but must have decided that now was not the right time to argue.
“We think that Lily’s broken her ankle, and we need to find a Healer.”
“Doctor,” corrected Lily.
Rich bent down, gently removed her shoe and sock, and examined the ankle. Then he lifted her into his arms. “I think your friend was right the first time - a Healer would be better.”
Even though the pain of her ankle was excruciating, one thing was clear. “Good Godric,” said Lily. “You’re a wizard.”
“At your service, ma’am. Unfortunately, I’m not a Healer,” he replied.
“Can you get me to a hospital, then?” Lily asked faintly.
“I said I wasn’t a Healer, but I know where to find one. Excuse me, miss,”“ Lily wasn’t sure if he was addressing Mary or Martha “ “if you reach into my back pocket, you’ll find my guide.”
Martha found it. It was the same one he’d been reading in the cafe, but instead of saying ‘A Guide to Britain’, it now read ‘A Wizard’s Guide to Britain.’ He walked a bit further along the path until he found a tree they could shelter under, and then he took the book from Martha. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out his wand. Tapping the guide and muttering something under his breath, he studied the pages carefully.
“Okay,” he said, squinting at the page that had opened up before him. “There’s a Healer living in a nearby village “ we’ll head for there.”
“How far?” gasped Martha, who was flagging in the wind and rain.
“About five miles,” he replied.
“You can’t carry me for five miles,” gasped Lily. “And they won’t walk that far in this weather.”
“Lily, I could carry you twice that distance,” he said, turning his megawatt smile on her. “But it may take too long. Listen, girls, let’s get back to my hotel - it’s about half a mile away and not exactly busy, so you can book a room while I take Lily to the Healer in a Muggle taxi-cab.”
“We’ll all go to the Healer,” said Mary decisively.
Rich chuckled. “Very sensible, Miss Macdonald. Who knows what danger Lily could tempt me into?”
As Rich had said, the gloomy looking hotel was barely half full. They managed to get a room for all three where they could spend at least one night. Mary took charge of paying, but stumbled over the Muggle money.
“Lily, help,” she said despairingly. “What do I pay with?”
Lily sighed and sorted the notes out for her. “I’m Muggle-born,” she explained to Rich, who was watching.
“Hey, same here,” he murmured.
Lily had very little memory after that. Rich had gone to his room and returned with a lotion that he very gently massaged into her ankle. The pain started disappearing and warmth spread through her body. She was oblivious to everything except their voices. Rich’s voice was softly caressing. She remembered that the Healer, a kind looking witch, had given her a potion whilst she cast her spell and mended the bones.
“Shame it wasn’t fixed straight away. It may ache for a while, dearie. Drink up “ it will help.”
The potion made her drowsy. It was impossible to keep her eyes open and, although she would have liked to gaze at Rich for longer, she slept.
When Lily woke it was night time. She was in her hotel room with Mary next to her and Martha in a camp bed. Her ankle ached as she carefully walked to the window. In the moonlight, she could see the purple bruising, and began to wonder if Rich was sleeping. At the thought of him, she felt suddenly light-headed.
“Lily Evans,” she told herself sternly. “You can’t possibly be in love with the man, however gorgeous, however chivalrous. You barely know him. It’s impossible!”
She returned to bed, but was unable to sleep. After what seemed like an eternity, Mary and Martha woke up. She chivvied them to get up and get some breakfast; Mary gave her a far too knowing look as she scolded them. Rich wasn’t at breakfast, so Lily dawdled over her toast and lumpy porridge in the hope that he’d appear, but he never showed. They returned to their room to pack up.
“Shall we end this whole trip now?” said Mary. “I’m not sure your ankle will stand up to much more walking.”
“I think you’re right, but I’m sure we were close. Brackenfen is such a gloomy place “ I’m sure it was Slythy Fen. Maybe that rabbit hole was a trap set by Salazar himself,” said Lily grumpily.
Martha giggled. “That’s very superstitious of you.”
“Well, it was the Muggle-born that got injured,” said Lily, smiling in spite of the gloom she was feeling.
“Perhaps if we’d entered further, he’d have got us “ the half bloods?” suggested Mary.
As they left the hotel, the receptionist called them back.
“Is one of you three Lily Evans?” she said.
“Uh huh. That’s me,” replied Lily.
The receptionist handed her a letter. Lily ripped it open eagerly “ only one person knew where they were staying!
“It’s from Rich,” she gasped.
Lovely Lily-Lily, he wrote, although with your eyes and hair perhaps it should be ‘Tiger Lily.
I’m sorry to leave so soon before I’ve had a chance to get to know you. However, I’m sure we’ll meet again real soon.
Take care of that ankle. I’m not sure when the Cavalry will get to you again.
Yours truly,
Rich
X
Buoyed up with the hope that she’d see him again, Lily remained happy all the way back to London. Once there, she escorted Martha and Mary to the Ministry where their father worked, then she took a train home. Once alone, she pulled the letter out of her pocket and memorised the contents. ‘Tiger-Lily!’ It wasn’t an original name. It was what her friends called her when she went into a rage “ usually against the Marauders “ but from him it sounded glamorous and exotic. He said he’d see her again “ but when?
A week before the new term started, Lily went to Diagon Alley to buy her new books. Mary said she was meeting Remus, so Lily agreed to meet her at Florean Fortescues, and then disappear when he arrived. That suited her; she wasn’t sure she could bear to be around couples at the moment. Her sister, Petunia, had a new boyfriend called Vernon. They spent a lot of time in the house holding hands. Lily was sure this was because Vernon was too mean to take her sister out, but she bit her tongue, not wishing to upset Petunia any more than she usually did. In her pocket, she carried Rich’s letter, although she knew it off by heart, and now the paper along the folds was wearing thin where she’d repeatedly unfolded it. Rich had said they’d meet again; Lily wondered whether Diagon Alley was the place.
She scanned The Leaky Cauldron, Flourish and Blotts, and the Apothecary but she saw no sign of him. So she meandered disconsolately towards the ice cream cafe and waited for her friend. Mary turned up late, full of apologies, clutching all of her text books. She had decided to buy them first so that she had the afternoon free to spend with Remus, she explained to Lily.
“Have you decided on your N.E.W.T. subjects, then?” asked Lily, who was still debating some of hers.
“Well,” replied Mary, “I had to change my mind when I got my results as I doubt Professor McGonagall will clear me for Transfiguration, and I don’t think Professor Slughorn will take me as I only got Acceptable in Potions. So I’ve decided on Defence against the Dark Arts, Charms, Herbology, Divination, and maybe Care of Magical Creatures. How about you?”
“I’m not sure, but definitely Potions, Arithmancy, Charms, and Herbology. And then I’m also thinking about Transfiguration and Defence. I’d like to do both but I’m sure I only scraped that E...” Lily stopped as she became aware that Mary was no longer paying her any attention. Lily saw Mary’s eyes light up as she looked over her shoulder. Just as Lily suspected, Remus was approaching - with Peter.
“Lily,” whispered Mary, “you have to stay now; he’s brought Peter with him.”
“Don’t you dare, Mary,” hissed Lily. “I do have other things to do.” She tried to get up, but Remus’ voice interrupted her flight.
“Don’t leave on our account, Lily,” he said as he sat down next to Mary. He leant forward to give her a rather hurried and slightly embarrassed kiss on the cheek. But Remus was reckoning without Mary, who cupped his chin in her hands and kissed him full on the lips.
“Yeurch!” Peter said, rolling his eyes.
“Yeurch, indeed,” Lily agreed. “How are you, Peter? Good holiday?”
“So-so,” Peter replied. “I spent most of it with Mum, but did have a week at James’. He told us you’d been there. Hereward’s still going on about your treacle tart.”
Remus pulled away from Mary, a very satisfied grin on his face. “What were you talking about before we got here?” He addressed the question to Lily.
“Nothing exciting,” Lily replied as she finished her ice cream. “Just N.E.W.T.s, and the fact that I still have all my shopping to do.”
“I heard about your results,” said Peter. “Outstanding in Potions; that’s seriously impressive, Lily.”
Lily recognised James’ phrase in Peter’s speech, and for a moment wondered what he’d been saying to Peter and Remus about her.
“What about your results?” she asked him.
“Uh,” Peter faltered, “not bad. Five E’s, Two A’s, and a couple of Poors.”
Briefly, Lily wondered what it must be like to be the one in the group who never quite matched up to his friends; never quite as good looking, never quite as good at Quidditch, and never quite as clever. She realised that she’d never paid Peter much attention. He was far less noticeable than Potter and Sirius. Sonia, she remembered, had scornfully turned him down when he’d asked her out. At the time, Lily had thought him mad for Sonia was by far the best looking girl in Hogwarts. Perhaps he was braver than she realised. Poor Peter, she thought, and then realised that pity was far worse than ignoring him. Impulsively, she turned to him.
“Peter, my parents gave me some money so I could buy an owl. Would you help me choose one? I know nothing about owls.”
Peter stood up, obviously pleased to be asked, but saw Mary mouthing ‘Thank you’ to Lily.
“S’okay,” he muttered. “I’ve got things to buy myself.”
Lily correctly interpreted his reluctance, and touched his arm. “I do mean it, Peter. I really know nothing about owls. Please come with me.”
They entered the Owl Emporium together. Peter, she was pleased to see, did know a lot about owls and asked the shop owner lots of questions on her behalf. She studied the birds. One in particular, with golden eyes that seemed to follow her as she perused the room, caught her attention.
“Peter,” Lily said. “How about this one?”
Peter walked over to the owl and nodded. “You know how Mr Ollivander says ‘The wand chooses the wizard’? Well, I think the same is true of pets. That owl is determined to have you, Lily.”
Lily needed no further advice, she paid for the owl and together they walked out of the shop.
“You need a name now,” Peter said as he fed the little owl a nut.
“Mmm,” replied Lily, who was looking at the owl’s eyes and thinking they reminded her of something.
“You know what,” Peter said excitedly. “That owl’s eyes are exactly the same colour as a Snitch.”
The owl flapped its wings and hooted.
“Oh, well done, Peter,” said Mary, who was standing with her arm around Remus just behind them. “You’ve just named Lily’s owl after a sport she hates.”
Lily looked at the owl. His eyes really were the same colour as a Snitch.
“I thought you’d converted her?” Remus said to Mary, squeezing her around the waist.
“She tried,” replied Lily as she carried on looking at her owl. He winked at her and hooted again. “Okay,” she said, with resignation in her voice, “Snitch it is.”
After lunch, Lily finished her shopping in Flourish and Blotts, and then took the train home. Some passengers looked askance at the little owl in the cage and one muttered words like ‘cruelty’ in Lily’s earshot. Lily looked down at Snitch, who appeared to be holding his wing in an awkward position. She grinned, and explained to the complaining lady that she would be releasing this particular owl as soon as its wing was fully healed. Thus mollified, the lady began to feed Snitch grapes from a paper bag.
“You,” Lily whispered to Snitch, “are a very sneaky, but very clever owl. You knew she had grapes in that bag, didn’t you?”
Walking from the station to her home, Lily decided to walk through the fields. Across the furthest field was Sev’s house. She had heard from village gossip that Tobias Snape had walked out, leaving Sev alone with his mother. She wondered if things were better for him now. Snitch hooted softly. Sev would hate his name, she thought.
After dumping her stuff in her room, and carefully avoiding Petunia and Vernon, Lily went into the garden to release Snitch. She watched him spiral higher and higher, hooting happily. She laughed and followed him out of the garden and through the field. Concentrating on Snitch, Lily didn’t realise where she’d walked to until she found herself in the glade by the river. She turned to leave but a voice stopped her.
“Lily,” Severus exclaimed. He sounded guilty, alarmed, as if her presence here were intrusive. “I-I didn’t think you’d ever come here again. I’ve been here every day, waiting. I’d given up.”
“I’ll go,” she muttered awkwardly. “Snitch, back to the house now.” The owl hooted and flew down to her shoulder.
Severus glared at the owl. “Snitch!” he said scornfully, and for a moment she could see black fire in his eyes. “Potter’s reeled you in, I see.”
“No!” Lily declared, hating the fact that she sounded so defensive. “It was Peter’s idea, actually. Anyway, what does it have to do with you?”
“Nothing,” he retorted. “Just leave, Lily.”
She turned, but there was something about the way he was standing, as though he was shielding something, that made her stop.
“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Severus repeated.
She peered behind him. In the gloom, she thought she could see a broomstick. She darted around him. It was a broomstick, and, as she picked it up, she could clearly see some dates carved into the handle. She looked at him in horror. “Sev, what have you done?”
“I don’t know what you mean?”
“This is James Potter’s broom. He lost it when he fell into the lake. Why have you got his broom?” she asked.
He looked at her, his eyes glittering strangely.
“Don’t lie to me,” Lily said warningly.
The fire went out of his eyes. “I guessed they were trying to do the Bowtruckle Challenge, so I told Mulciber and Avery. We watched as they as they approached the tree, and Potter started to fly. Then Avery hexed Potter and I summoned the broom.” He paused and then looked at her, half entreating, half defiant. “It was a joke, Lily, to stop them getting the points back.”
“But you watched him fall in, Sev, and you did nothing.” Lily’s voice was barely a whisper, but Snape appeared to catch every word.
“I didn’t know he couldn’t swim,” Severus pleaded.
“You didn’t do anything to help,” she retorted.
“We thought he had his wand. And then you turned up and pulled him out. What good would our help have been?”
“He nearly died!” exclaimed Lily, raising her voice. “If you’d called out, we could have got him out sooner.”
“You saved him,” Severus spat bitterly. “Despite everything you say about him, you rushed into that lake, without any hesitation, and dragged him out.”
“You think I should have let him drown because I dislike him? Good God, Sev, that’s sick!”
“No,” he whispered. “I know you could never let someone struggle, however much you disliked them.” He took a step towards her one hand outstretched. “Lily, please,” he implored. “Can’t we be friends again, like we used to be? I’ve missed you so much this summer.”
I’ve missed you too, she thought, and for a moment she considered saying yes. But the ‘Mudblood’ insult still hung in the air between them, and the memory of their first Charms lesson sprang into her mind. She shook her head. “It’s too late,” she replied sadly. “I’m sorry, Sev, but too much has happened now.”
She turned her back on him and began to walk away, but then remembered the broom. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. “Why did you take his broom?”
Snape cursed under his breath and looked at the broom in her hand. “Mulciber had some idea about hexing it, so I Transfigured it into a branch and brought it home. Potter’s got it well protected though.”
“But if you’d hexed it and he’d fallen during a match, he could have been badly injured “ or killed, even.” Lily could not believe this made sense to him; this was not her childhood friend.
“They tried to kill me, remember, at the Shrieking Shack,” he shouted defensively.
“James saved you!” Lily protested.
“And they tampered with my wand, just before my exam,” he argued.
“Remus swears they didn’t, Sev,” replied Lily, trying to remain calm.
“I got nine Outstandings, Lily, but Exceeds Expectations for Transfiguration,” he said forcefully. “Explain that.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that James could be better than you at something?”
He drew his breath in sharply. “I notice you call him James now instead of Potter.”
“Oh, shut up,” Lily replied angrily. “What does it matter to you what I call him?”
She took several steps away from him.
“Are you going to tell him?” he demanded.
Lily considered. She had to get the broom back to James, but how could she do this without causing even more ill-feeling?
“No, I won’t tell James.” She used his name as a weapon. “But, I’ll have to tell Professor McGonagall.”
“Lily, please,” protested Severus.
“I won’t tell on you, but she’ll want to know how I got hold of the broom. You’ll have to talk to her eventually.” She paused. “You’ve been coming here every day, you said. Did you always bring the broom?”
Severus nodded.
Lily smiled a touch sadly. “You wanted me to find out, didn’t you, Sev?”
He looked at her but said nothing.
“You know it’s wrong, don’t you? You must tell Professor McGonagall. She’s fair, Sev. She’ll hear you out,” she said in a soft voice, trying to convince him of the right course. She held out the broom. “You could return this yourself.”
“I can’t go to McGonagall; she’ll get us expelled,” Severus cried. “Mulciber would be furious.”
“And you care more for his opinion than mine,” Lily replied coldly. “I never thought you were a coward, Snape.”
She could hear him calling her name again and again as she ran home, but she did not turn back.