Lily lies on her bedroom floor, record player on in the background, music drifting over her. It's brutally hot, too hot to move, or think. Her fingers drag lazily through the beige carpet that covers every room in the house except the bathroom and kitchen. Her father always used to talk about tearing it out, but he never got around to it. She's glad that he didn't. It feels like home now—after spending all year surrounded by stone, she comes back to soft floors and warm colours.
"Lily!" a shrill voice cuts through the music.
She doesn't move. Doesn't open her eyes. Maybe if she lies very, very still they won't be able to find her.
Barely two minutes later the door to her room is being thrown open. "Jesus Lily, couldn't you hear me?"
She sighs, cracking one eye open to peer up at the towering figure of her sister, dark hair still in curlers, the mint green nightgown she's had since she was thirteen brushing against her knees.
"No, sorry," Lily says mildly, not bothering to move. This, predictably, infuriates Petunia.
"You said you would help," everything with her sister is a lightly veiled guilt-trip.
You said you would help.
You owe me.
Make up for it.
For the magic.
For not being here.
You said you would help.
Lily sighs, pulling herself upright and resting her arms on her knees.
"What d'you need?"
Petunia is really rather pretty—probably the prettier of the two of them—the problem is, she's always got this pinched look on her face. Sour and unhappy and constantly let down. It makes her unappealing to look at.
"Food for my hen do, nice food though, not just crisps from the grocery store."
Lily blinks up at her. "Nice food?"
Petunia sighs like Lily is the stupidest person she has ever met. "Cheeses and baguettes and char-cootie boards."
"Charcuterie?"
"Gazoontite."
"No it's—" Lily laughs. "Never mind," she gets to her feet. "Yeah, okay, I can go get you some posh snacks. When do you need them for?"
"Four."
Lily's eyes skate over to the clock on her bedside table. It's only ten in the morning. What all the yelling was about she's no idea. As if snacks are going to take more than six hours to get—even posh ones.
"Also, pick us up some Presecco."
Lily gives her a flat look. "I'm under age."
Her sister smiles unpleasantly. "And yet you still manage to get those dirty cigarettes you don't want mum to see."
Lily rolls her eyes. "Yes, okay, I'll try. But if they don't take my fake it's not my fault."
Petunia makes a very lofty "hmph" noise. "I'm sure you'll be fine. If anything goes wrong you can just use your little stick and magic it all away."
"That's not how it—"
"Lily!" their mum's voice echoes from downstairs. "Phone for you!"
"Oh thank God," she murmurs under her breath.
"Hey, wait—"
But Lily slips passed her, "Sorry, I gotta take this!" she says over her shoulder as she skids around the corner.
