Sevens ✓

Y E A R T W O

Lily was different this year.

Even though she was twelve, she liked to think she was wise; mature. Tonnes more than dearest Petunia, anyhow. Tonnes more than last year, too.

Said Petunia sat very much sulking in the backseat, toying with a blonde pigtail adorned with ribbons. She didn't even flinch as the brown leather trunk made a huge clunk as Mr Evans tugged it from the boot.

"Alright," he looked down at the red-headed girl; and his red cheeks glistened. "Have a good year, Lilsy. Behave."

"Oh for goodness' sake," her mother snapped from the front, closing her door quickly and hurrying round the side to join them. "We've only got five minutes!"

Lily looked over to her right and clearly saw the signposts labelling platforms nine and ten. "It's alright, mumsie. We don't need five minutes to get over there."

Her mother sighed and ran a hand over the skirt of her, what Lily and Petunia liked to call, pink checkered, and pouffiest dress. "Hm, well, anyway Lily, have a good year, like your father said." She glanced over to the clock hanging on the wall and tutted. "Three minutes!"

Her father seemed to click into action and so, with quick hugs and kisses, handed Lily her trunk. "It's not too heavy, is it?"

Lily shook her head and hitched it up so the handle wasn't pressing into her palm so much.

"Bye, Petunia!" She called into the back, with a flick of her red locks.

There was no answer.

With a final tug and love yous, she took a deep breath and power-walked through the barrier.

Immediately, she could see students in colourful jumpers and trousers getting onto the train.

Feeling momentarily light-headed with fear, Lily bravely stalked forwards and looked for a carriage.

That's when she saw them.

Behind the smoke, stood almost hidden by the side, were a small family of four.

Clearly classified as more up there, they stood with tight posture and clasped hands. The woman had a bun scraped back so tight Lily was surprised her skin hadn't been pulled off with the force. The man had high cheekbones and a sharp jaw; smooth dark hair.

And then, there were two boys.

Immediately it was noticeable that one was not happy. Sirius Black was half-turned away as his brother and parents talked politely. But only politely; stiffly. Not happy or relaxed, like most families should – and were. Unlike his brother, he wore wizard robes only for home wear, and was not sporting his Gryffindor robes.

And then, there was Regulus. Already adorned in robes of green and silver and black, he stood with his chin up and grey eyes directed at his parents. As he spoke, his mouth only opened by fractions, like it was wrong to show the inside of it too much.

It was with a whistle that Lily started, and realised that she had been standing somewhat frozen by the same spot for a while. She shook her hair out of her eyes and took one more glance at the sour family, only to catch direct eye contact with Regulus: the boy who had assisted her more than once last year. The boy who she had made small acquaintance with.

His eyes wavered a little as he seemed to recognise her, too. He seemed to almost smile; grey eyes flashing and boring into her greens for a few moments. And then — the few moments were over: he had turned around to say goodbye to his parents and board the train.