Part 1: Full Moon Nights
End July, 1970
Lily
Lily yawned deeply and stretched. It was nearly a month into the summer holidays, and they were turning out as boring as ever. She glanced over at her still-sleeping sister, and then silently put out her left hand in the direction of the dresser. As always, the hairbrush flew into it. She was always doing things of this sort, things other people couldn’t do. They said she was Magnetic. Her friends at school were quite awed by her. They didn’t think she was creepy, as she had initially feared they would. Because children believe in magic.
She tried to rub the sleep out of her bright green eyes, and started brushing her thick red hair. When she had finished, she turned and saw that Petunia’s eyes were wide open. Had she been watching all this while? Lily didn’t want to admit it, but the thought made her slightly uncomfortable. However, Petunia smiled and said quickly, “Good morning, Lil.” Too quickly.
“Morning, Tuney. We’ve overslept; it must be nearly time for breakfast.”
“I suppose. Dunno. Mom would’ve called us.” And she rolled over.
Lily smiled, and getting out of bed, walked across the room and shook her lazy sister.
“C’mon Tuney, get up, if we hurry we can get our errands done quickly and watch The Sound of Music.”
“Mom won’t let us, not today,” said Petunia, trying to snuggle back under the covers, “it’s the dinner, remember?”
“Well, we can go to the park and play for awhile then. I’m sure she’ll let us do that, but only if we finish our chores…,” said Lily thoughtfully.
“Okay, five minutes,” mumbled Petunia. She giggled as Lily tickled her. “Okay, okay, I’m getting up.”
“Girls, hurry up, we have lots to do before tonight’s party,” their mother called, and entered the room.
Lily and Petunia groaned. “What?” said Mrs. Evans, looking from one to the other.
“Mummy, why do the Dursleys have to come? The whole family at that, when it’s just a business dinner?” asked Lily.
“The Browns and Newtons are going to be there too,” their mother reminded her, bending to pick up the bedclothes.
“But they don’t have any children. I mean, well, the Newtons do, but Rudolph always pretends to be all dignified, and when he’s not nodding away to the men’s talk, he’s telling me and Tuney that Cinderella never existed,” cried Lily indignantly. “So that means we’re going to be stuck with those two…weirdos...all evening.”
Lily ended in a wail. Their mother paid no attention and continued tidying up.
“Yes, weirdos. That Vernon is such a foul-tempered kid. He’s…fat…and annoying. He follows us around all over the place,” cried Petunia.
“Like a dog,” added Lily.
“And his sister is no better. She doesn’t follow us, though her dogs do. Stray dogs, at that. I hate dogs, they make everything messy.” Cleanliness-obsessed Petunia.
“And she just sits in a corner chewing her nails and picking her nose,” shuddered Lily.
“And she has a moustache” added Petunia.
“Quiet, both of you,” said Mrs. Evans, though her mouth twitched. “Petunia, you shouldn’t talk like this about them. Be an example to your sister. And, girls, its just one evening. Now tidy up your rooms and come downstairs.”
The girls sighed. Petunia pointed her palm at her comb just like Lily had, with a look of longing on her face. Nothing happened.
***
Emily
“Mummy, we’ve been working like crazy. Can we have a break?” asked Lily, after about two hours of dusting the drawing room and cleaning the verandah.
“Sure,” said Emily Evans absently, while inspecting the work done by the girls to see if anything was wanting.
“Tuney”, Lily called, “Tuney, lets go to the playground, the swings will be empty at this time. Mummy says we can”.
Mrs. Evans looked up, suddenly alert. “I never said that.”
“Mummy, please. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”
Emily looked at her, and sighed. “All right then. Just be careful, okay? No more flying off swings.”
But Lily had already skipped outside.
***
Severus
Severus was hiding behind his usual clump of bushes. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and the ground was warm. A single, huge chimney dominated the distant skyline. He watched as two girls entered the playground and ran to the swings. Maybe this time he would finally talk to her, he thought.
He was skinny, no more than ten years of age; odd, sallow, small, stringy. His black hair was overlong and his clothes were so mismatched that it looked deliberate: too-short jeans, a shabby, over-large coat that might have belonged to a grown man, an odd smock-like shirt. There was an air of neglect about his being.
The girls swung backwards and forwards. He watched the younger of the two with an inexplicable greed, as she swung higher and higher than her sister, singing loudly “Doe, a deer, a female deer…ray, a drop of golden sun…”
Involuntarily, he pulled at his coat so that it covered his shirt completely.
“Lily, don’t do it!” shrieked the elder of the two.
But the girl had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skywards with a great snort of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared, like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.
“Mummy told you not to!”
Petunia stopped her swing by dragging the heels of her sandals on the ground, making a crunching, grinding sound, then leapt up, hands on hips.
“Mummy said you weren’t allowed, Lily!”
“But I’m fine,” said Lily, still giggling. “Tuney, look at this. Watch what I can do.”
Petunia glanced around. The playground was deserted apart from themselves and, though the girls did not know it, Severus. Lily picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which he lurked. He almost revealed himself then, but held back. “Not yet,” he thought to himself. He kept watching.
Petunia advanced towards Lily, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster.
“Stop it!” shrieked Petunia.
“It’s not hurting you,” said Lily, but she closed her hand on the blossom and threw it back to the ground.
“It’s not right,” said Petunia, but her eyes had followed the flower’s flight to the ground and lingered upon it. “How do you do it?” she added, and there was definite longing in her voice.
Severus could no longer contain himself, and jumped out from behind the bushes.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”
Petunia shrieked and ran backwards towards the swings, but Lily, though clearly startled, remained where she was. Suddenly Severus regretted his act. He should have waited. He felt a dull flush mount in his face as he looked at Lily.
“What’s obvious?” she asked.
There was nothing else for it. Severus felt nervous and excited. This was it. With a glance at the distant Petunia, now hovering beside the swings, he lowered his voice and said, “I know what you are.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re…you’re a witch,” whispered Severus.
She looked affronted.
“That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody!”
She turned, nose in the air, and marched off towards her sister.
“No!” said Severus, desperately, feeling hot and uncomfortable. He ran after the girls, his ridiculous coat flapping out behind him.
The sisters considered him, united in disapproval, both holding on to one of the swing poles as though it was the safe place in tag.
“You are,” said Severus to Lily. “You are a witch. I’ve been watching you for a while. But there’s nothing wrong with that. My mum’s one, and I’m a wizard.”
Petunia’s laugh was like cold water.
“Wizard!” she shrieked, her courage returned now that she had recovered from the shock of his unexpected appearance. “I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address a poor recommendation. “Why have you been spying on us?”
“Haven’t been spying,” said Severus, feeling more uncomfortable than ever. He tried a different tack. “Wouldn’t spy on you anyway,” he said spitefully, “you’re a Muggle.”
Though Petunia evidently did not understand the word, she could hardly mistake the tone.
“Lily, come on, we’re leaving!” she said shrilly.
Lily obeyed her sister at once, glaring at Severus as she left. He stood watching them as they marched through the playground gate, and felt bitterly disappointed; after planning this moment for so long, how could it have gone so nightmarishly wrong?
***
Note: Parts of the story have been incorporated from the original story by JKR (Snape's memories), with a few minor changes.
