ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇᴏʀʏ

➳ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 ~ 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬

Today's dedication goes to karl-otto24 because she's great and her comments always make me laugh! Thank you for blowing up my wattpad with your running commentary :)
Lyl ♥️♥️♥️

(1st September 1977)

Lily Evans looked down at the golden orb perched sprucely on her collarbone and felt a comfortable tingle run down her spine and into her heart.

A good luck charm.

That's what he'd called the little ball, a good luck charm. She hadn't been wearing it for more than a minute before the luck crept through her chest like a warm drink on a rainy day. Perhaps it took her longer than it should have to realise that the sensation wasn't felicity, it was magic.

It had been a while since she'd felt connected to magic like it. Such feelings only ever swept her up in a tendril of fury or upset; they rarely convulsed her in such a welcoming, subtle way– almost teasing her. She could barely remember the last time she felt so powerful, so audacious, and all because of a little golden necklace.

When she looked back up the only remaining part of James to watch was the back of his head, tousled raven curls bopped as he walked, giving the illusion he was laughing to himself (or perhaps he was, she would never know).

Lily walked home on her own that day, soaking up the last of the summer before the transition into autumn began to fully take stride, the seasons had only just begun to stitch together like gauche knitting and she was determined to see everything in its blue before they began to perish in a flutter of fiery orange and crimson.

The sun was still warm and so she hadn't taken a jacket with her to the train station but she began to question that decision as she sat on the tube. Dorcas has taken the car back to Cokeworth with her mother but Lily had declined the offer, she preferred to be alone on September firsts, it gave her a chance to think.

Now James was gone she began to feel more like Lily Evans; Simpson seemed to peel off of her like a reptile shedding its skin and she welcomed the transition. As much as she execrated Evans she realised that Simpson was no better.
But despite it all, she had never quite felt as alive as she had that summer, being Lily Simpson, being someone she could enjoy. It wouldn't last but she'd enjoyed it.

Paddington Station wasn't quite as busy as King's Cross but she took solace in the fact she wouldn't have to pass platforms nine and ten, she wouldn't have to ponder what might have been if she ran through the wall like Severus had told her all those years ago.

Lily had barely spared a thought for Severus and yet September first had always done something to bring his tales back to the forefront of her mind; that's all his stories felt like now– fairytales. Over the years Hogwarts had become a place of dreams and fancies for her, less of a palpable place and more an idea, a dream. It had become a dream, Lily loved dreams, and yet this was the one that she'd yet to wake up from.