An Air that Kills by Sapphire at Dawn
Story Notes:
Major thanks to Alex/welshdevondragon for her beta job on this.
Chapter Notes: Once again, thank to Alex for beta'ing this. The poem at the beginning is 'Into My Heart an Air that Kills', which is part of a longer cycle by A.E Housman,. Lines marked * are taken directly from Deathly Hallows, UK version page 533
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
Two little girls are sitting under an old apple tree in the well-tended garden of a modest-sized house. It’s early spring and the tree is in full bloom, the dainty white petals glowing in the light of the sun setting beyond the garden hedge.
The elder girl, who can be no more than four years old, is making a small wreath of blossom flowers that have already fallen from the tree. Her younger sister, a toddler whose red hair is blazing in the orange light, is digging with a stick near the tree’s base. Her hands are covered in earth, and there are smudges of dirt over her face where she has been brushing her hair out of her eyes.
Suddenly, the older girl looks up and sees the state of her sister, who is still rooting around with her stick.
‘Oh Lily,’ she says, a hint of a giggle in her voice. ‘Mummy isn’t going to be happy; you’re covered in dirt!’
The red-headed girl looks down at her hands and flashes a toothy grin at her sister.
‘Come on,’ the older girl says in a motherly fashion, laying her half-finished blossom wreath gently on the ground, ‘I’ll help you wash it off, then Mummy won’t be cross.’
Still smiling, the toddler takes her sister’s hand and is led gently yet firmly across the garden and back towards the house.
‘I’ll take care of you.’
‘You’re... you’re a witch.’*
She looked affronted.*
‘That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody!’*
Lily Evans had some serious thinking to do.
She and Petunia had returned from the playground half an hour ago, with Petunia ranting and raving the entire way about that Snape boy and how rude he was. Lily nodded along fervently, united in her disapproval of the boy with the silly coat that was too big for him and the very long hair. Really, only girls, or those adults who went to the protests Lily saw on the news sometimes, should have long hair. Slowly, Petunia had talked herself into a smouldering silence, and when they reached their house, had stormed off upstairs without a word. Lily had tried to follow her, but by the time she reached the top of the stairs, the door to Petunia’s bedroom was closed.
That closed door was now looming like an unspoken presence in Lily’s mind as she lay chest down on her bedroom floor, slowly moving her toy animals to their correct places in the wooden ark her grandfather had built for her several years ago. She wished Petunia would stop being upset and come out of her room; she didn’t like it when Petunia was cross, and somehow, Lily had a feeling that it was somehow down to her as well as the boy. She didn’t like it when Petunia was upset with her, but this time, it really wasn’t her fault. How could she have stopped him from being nasty to Petunia, and calling her whatever it was he’d called her? He had been rude to Lily as well, calling her a witch, and Lily had been angry at him for it, and for being nasty to her sister.
But, Lily thought, he’d sounded different when he’d called her a witch. He didn’t sound like he was trying to be nasty to her, and he even called himself a wizard. But he had been nasty to Petunia, and he had been spying on them, and that really was a mean thing to do. Lily’s mother was always telling her not to eavesdrop, and wasn’t spying and eavesdropping nearly the same thing? But now she had thought about it, the words kept creeping back into her mind...
‘You’re... you’re a witch’*
She pulled herself up into a sitting position as a thought slowly stole over her. What if she really was a witch? What if the Snape boy had been telling the truth? What if the things she could do, like jumping from the swings and not getting hurt, or making the flowers dance, were magic? She had never considered this before. She had always assumed that they were just something she could do that others couldn’t, like how Petunia always managed to tie the ribbons in her hair much neater than Lily could, or how her mother never cried when she hurt herself, not even when she shut her finger in one of the kitchen cupboard doors.
Could the boy really be a wizard? Could they really exist, like they did in stories? But surely stories were just stories, made up by clever adults? Now Lily was confused. On one hand, she knew she could do these things that Petunia couldn’t, but on the other...
She had to go and find him. She had to ask about witches and wizards and whether she could do magic. She stood up quickly, a grin spreading over her face as she hastily scooped up the remaining animals and dumped them unceremoniously into the ark, all consideration of their rightful places abandoned. She was going to find out the truth, she was going to make the boy explain, and then she’d come back to Petunia and her mother and tell them that she was a witch!
It might not be too late, the boy might still be in the playground, even though he was alone and didn’t have anyone to talk to. And even if he didn’t, Lily would go to his house. Spinner’s End, Petunia had said. She’d go there if she had to, even though she would have to cross the main road and her mother would be angry that Petunia wasn’t there to make sure she did it properly.
Burning with purpose, she crossed her bedroom and ran down the stairs, nearly running into her mother in the hallway.
‘Can I go to the playground, Mummy?’ Lily asked breathlessly.
‘Haven’t you just come back?’
‘I want to go out again,’ Lily said. ‘I think I might have left my cardigan there.’
Lily crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping, praying that her mother would say yes and not remember that she hadn’t put a cardigan on this morning. But thankfully, fate, it seemed, was on her side.
‘All right,’ Lily’s mother said. ‘Just don’t be too long; it’s nearly time for supper.’
‘I won’t!’ Lily called as she flung open the front door and darted down the front path. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears as she ran down the road. Please, oh please, still be there, Lily thought over and over again. She slowed as she reached the playground. It was apparently deserted. Her heart fell as she opened the gate, but she wasn’t going to be defeated that easily. She’d have a good look around before she conceded defeat, and so she set off into the playground.
She had only gone a few paces when, suddenly, there was a shout from behind her.
‘You came back!’
She wheeled around and her heart leaped into her mouth; the boy was standing by the fence, not too far from the gate, and judging by the pieces of gravel that clung to the coat that was far too big for him, he had been sitting on the ground, which was why Lily hadn’t seen him at first. His cheeks were pink and flushed, but he stayed where he was, perhaps not knowing what to expect.
‘I came to talk to you,’ Lily said, a little breathlessly, recovering slightly from the shock his sudden appearance had given her. ‘I want you to tell me the truth.’
She stood where she was, hands on hips. It was what her mother did when she was cross, and Lily wanted to make sure the boy did tell her the truth, and that he wasn’t going to be rude again. Lily was often scared of her mother when she stood like this.
‘The truth about you being a witch?’ the boy said. He didn’t seem to want to come any closer, but Lily could tell that he was glad she had come to find him again. There was a smile playing at the corner of his lips and he was staring at her with curiosity.
‘Yes,’ Lily replied. ‘Why do you say I’m a witch?’ She wasn’t going to move, or look at him in a friendly manner, until he had answered her questions.
The boy stepped closer as he stared at Lily. She felt a little uncomfortable at the intensity of his gaze, but she didn’t look away. She wanted the truth.
‘You are a witch,’ he said. ‘All those things you can do, it’s magic. There are witches and wizards all over the country.’
‘How come nobody knows about them, if they’re everywhere?’ Lily asked, still not utterly convinced. Really, if there were witches and wizards everywhere, surely someone would have noticed something.
‘It’s a secret,’ the boy replied, his cheeks had returned to their normal colour now, and there was something like hope in his eyes. ‘We don’t tell the Muggles because it’s better that way. Easier for us to live.’
‘What is that word?’ Lily asked, remembering the way in which he had called Petunia a Muggle. ‘You said my sister was one. It doesn’t sound like a very nice word, to me.’
‘It means non-magical,’ the boy said hurriedly, as if he were afraid Lily would start shouting at him again. ‘Your sister isn’t a witch, she’s a Muggle. It’s what we call them.’
Lily considered this. ‘So, she’s not a witch? She doesn’t have any magic?’
‘No,’ the boy said. ‘But you do, you’re a witch.’
‘And you’re a wizard.’
‘Yes. I can do the same as you, the same sort of things. Magic. My mum’s a witch, I know it’s true.’ He paused, regarding her with searching eyes. ‘You believe me, don’t you? You know you’re a witch.’
For the first time, Lily faltered. Her hands dropped from her hips and she simply stared at him. Did she believe him? Yes, a little voice in the back of her mind said. She wanted to believe him. There was something wonderful about the idea of being a witch and being able to do magic, and really, there had to be some explanation for the things she could do. Now she thought about it, the things she could do were slightly different than being able to tie a neat bow in your hair or not crying when you hurt yourself.
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. A wide grin broke out on the boy’s face. He almost looked relieved. ‘What happens?’ she asked, her voice almost a whisper, quivering with possibility. ‘I’m a witch, what happens next?’ She felt a shock of thrill pass through her as she said the words. I’m a witch.
‘You go to school,’ the boy said, coming closer now he was sure the conversation was going to go well. ‘It’s called Hogwarts. It’s where you go to learn magic. My mum went there. Everyone goes there.’
‘More magic?’ Lily said. ‘You mean more than I can already?’
The boy laughed. ‘Of course! You’ll learn everything at Hogwarts.’
Lily didn’t reply. In her mind she had soared away to a school, much like her own, except the classes were all about magic, how to make things clean themselves, flying with a umbrellas, or turning pumpkins into beautiful coaches, like the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella. All that Lily had ever seen or read about witches and wizards was now dancing tantalisingly in front of her eyes.
‘When can I go? How do I get there? I can go there, can’t I?’ she was excited now, more excited than she could ever remember being before, even on Christmas Eve.
The boy laughed again. ‘Of course, but you have to be eleven.’
The clock on the church began to chime five o’clock, and suddenly the boy’s demeanour changed.
‘I’ve got to go,’ he said quickly and quietly. ‘My dad -- it’s time for my dinner, I mean.’
‘Oh,’ Lily said, crestfallen. She didn’t want him to go; she wanted to hear all about this secret world and the school, Hogwarts, where she would be learning magic. The boy, too, seemed reluctant to go.
‘Look, come back here tomorrow at this time,’ he said hurriedly. ‘It’ll be okay then, my dad -- I mean, I can tell you everything. I’ve got to go now. I’m sorry.’ He turned and ran out of the playground gate and down the street, the opposite direction to the way Lily had come.
For a few moments, Lily simply stared after him, her mind reeling. She was a witch, and what’s more, she would be going to a magic school! She had to tell Petunia this, she just had to. Grinning broadly, she too ran out of the playground and back to her house.
‘Tuney!’ she cried as she threw open the front door. ‘Tuney!’
She ignored her mother’s shout as she leaped up the stairs two at a time, quicker than she had ever done it before, and flung the door to Petunia’s bedroom open.
Petunia was sat on the carpet, frozen in the act of draping a scarf around a doll, a bewildered look on her face as she regarded the puffing Lily who was bright red in the face.
‘It’s real, Tuney!’ Lily said. ‘Magic!’
‘What?’ Petunia put her doll down on the floor and stood up, regarding her sister with a quizzical look.
‘I just went to find that Snape boy,’ Lily explained. ‘In the playground. He was still there, and he explained it to me! I am a witch! I’m going to be going to a magic school when I’m eleven to learn magic properly! He said his mum went to the same school!’
Lily had expected Petunia to be just as excited as she was, but a frown had crept over her face.
‘Lily,’ she said, crossing her arms. ‘Do you honestly believe that?’
‘Yes! Of course!’ Lily faltered. ‘Why shouldn’t I?’
‘Witches only belong in stories and fairytales,’ Petunia said, a scornful note in her voice. ‘They don’t exist. This boy’s lying to you.’
‘No he’s not!’ Lily said angrily. ‘Why would he do that?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, spreading her arms, ‘he doesn’t have any friends, does he? He’s probably trying to make you like him by telling you all these lies that you’ll believe because you’re young.’
‘Don’t say that!’ Lily shouted. ‘I’m not gullible! I’m not!’
Petunia was getting angry now. ‘How can it be real, Lily? How can something like that exist? Magic belongs in stories!’
‘What about what I can do, then?’ Lily pleaded. ‘What about that? How do you explain what that is?’
Petunia said nothing, she just stood there, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, but no sound came out. ‘It can’t be real, Lily,’ she said, her voice deathly quiet. ‘There must be some other explanation! Perhaps it only happens when you’re really young, the stuff you can do, and I can’t do it because I’m older and never discovered it when I was your age. He’s lying to you, there is no school.’
‘I’m going to see him again tomorrow,’ Lily said.
‘Don’t go,’ Petunia said. ‘He’ll only come out with more lies.’
‘I’m going to,’ Lily said.
‘Fine,’ Petunia snapped. ‘Just don’t come crying to me when it all turns out to be not true!’
Lily turned firmly on her heel and marched from the room into her own bedroom, where she let out a huge sigh. She didn’t like fighting with Petunia, but the boy had to be telling the truth. Petunia just didn’t like him because he’d been spying on them, and was then rude to her. Maybe, after she’d talked to the boy a bit more tomorrow and he’d explained everything, she could get Petunia to see.
A small, niggardly voice crept into her mind. What if Petunia was right?
No. No, she couldn’t be. The boy was telling the truth. He had to be.
She sighed again and sat down at her desk and rested her chin on her arms. In her mind, she turned Petunia’s and the boy’s words over and over again in her mind as she looked out over the garden, towards the old apple tree.
Two little girls are sitting under an old apple tree in the well-tended garden of a modest-sized house. It’s early spring and the tree is in full bloom, the dainty white petals glowing in the light of the sun setting beyond the garden hedge.
‘Come on,’ the older girl says in a motherly fashion, laying her half-finished blossom wreath gently on the ground, ‘I’ll help you wash it off, then Mummy won’t be cross.’
Still smiling, the toddler takes her sister’s hand and is led gently yet firmly across the garden and back towards the house.
‘I’ll take care of you,’ Petunia Evans says to her sister.
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you for reading. I would love, love, love if you could leave a review :D