❝𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴...❞
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Lily Evans was the first ever witch not to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in attempt t...
This chapter is dedicated to the one and only Diana because she's the sweetest person! Thank you for lighting up the discord chats! Love you! TSwizzleSpeakNow ♥️♥️♥️
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(5th January 1978)
Lily Evans could tell by the way she jolted awake that she'd been dreaming. There was sweat beading on her forehead and fresh tears in her eyes, both creating an unwelcome taste of salt on her lips. But try as she might, Lily couldn't grasp the details of what had gotten her in this state. The ideas that she'd seen so vividly in sleep were slipping away from her like wisps of smoke.
But even as she began to wake up in her darkened bedroom, the sense of impending urgency did not leave with the drowsiness. She'd been sleeping at her desk, homework splayed across the table top haphazardly; sheets of had fallen on the the floor, others were in danger of spilling over the sides as well.
She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It read 03:30. Then it hit her. All of a sudden she jumped up from her chair and leant over to the window, the street was empty. Lucifer wasn't there.
The man she called the devil hadn't been seen waiting for her in nearly a week. It was becoming a pattern. There wasn't an exact day Lily could pinpoint in which he disappeared– he was just there one day, smoke the next.
Somehow Lily wondered if it was worse that he was gone than when she could trust he was there. Only watching. There were days when she would question if Lucifer was even real, or merely a figment of her magical imagination. But when he wasn't there, it felt much more ominous. She wondered where he went to, after he'd left her street. What do monsters get up to in the daylight? Now that was a better question...
Lily leant back in her desk chair, resigning herself to a night awake. There were three cameras on her shelf now. A classic film camera, a Polaroid camera, and the one gifted to her by James Potter.
The James Potter that was a mess. The James Potter that didn't know what it was to love someone. James Potter that kissed her and ran away because he was too afraid to fall in love. James Potter that would hold her when she cried; tell her the truth when she needed to hear it; buy her ridiculous gifts to make her happy; promise to put himself together so that he might be worthy of loving. But the problem was she might love him already...
She didn't know what love was supposed to feel like. In a sense she was just as scared of it as James, that fear just manifested itself in a different prototype. She was scared of what love was supposed to look like. Lily knew it wasn't supposed to be like her parents; with her mother drinking too much and her father pretending he doesn't notice until somebody cracks. Because her mother and father do love each other. She'd see it sometimes; in the way her father might wrap a blanket around her mother when she slept on the couch; or when her mother might stay sober long enough to wait up for her father when he'd had a long night in the office. Sometimes she'd catch them on the couch, side my side, watching some schmaltzy 40's movie in the middle of the night, laughing at things that weren't supposed to be amusing. They were in love –that, Lily knew– but she also knew they perhaps shouldn't be.
