Jily one shots

two strokes of midnight

disclaimer: written by Glisseo

To Lily, it seemed most unfair that a year which had treated her quite kindly – seeing her become Head Girl and begin a very happy relationship just in the last few months alone – should end so miserably.

Her parents were calling it a party, but Lily felt there had never been a word less appropriate. A whole night spent not only with her rarely-seen Muggle relatives – all under the impression that she, too, was a Muggle, which meant remembering the various lies they had been fed about her life over the years – but her sister, too, and her sister's fiancé, both of whom knew perfectly well that Lily was not a Muggle, and despised her for it.

Can't you get out of it?James had asked her as soon as she'd written to gripe about the fate that had befallen her. We're going into London for midnight. Should be good. You should come!

Stomach aching with jealousy, Lily had reluctantly responded.
No can do. Mum and Dad are being unusually strict on this one. Suppose they're wanting one last family New Year bash while Petunia still deigns to spend time with us.

And she did appreciate the sentiment – after all, in June she would be leaving school and stepping full-time into a world her parents knew very little of, and Petunia would be marrying Vile Vernon and – Lily assumed – giving up her soul as part of the deal. But she couldn't help but feel that beginning 1978 in such a lousy way did not bode well for the coming year.

Nobody, she wrote in a particularly grumpy letter to James the day before the party, should have to begin the new year with Vernon bloody Dursley.

Her boyfriend's reply was very unsympathetic and entirely characteristic, but it did at least make her smile.

It might not be so bad. Who knows – when you've had a bit too much champagne, as I know you are liable to doing, you might find yourself enjoying it ... perhaps you'll even become engaged in conversation with Vernon bloody Dursley and free yourself of your harsh conceptions about him and discover, as the clock strikes midnight, that he could in fact be your soulmate .....

You'll be sorry if that does happen, Lily replied at once, but there was no response from James for the rest of the day, and she woke on New Year's Eve feeling dejected and rather lonely, despite the trickle of relatives slowly filling the house with noise and movement. She shut herself in her room, knowing she would seem rude but not particularly caring – she wanted to spend as little time as possible with a fake smile pasted on her face, lying through her teeth. James, she supposed, was busy with Sirius and the others, looking forward to midnight. She gazed down at the grey street outside and imagined fireworks exploding in the air over Big Ben, reflecting in the Thames ... she had never spent New Year's Eve in a city, but she thought it must be wonderful: all those people, the excitement that surely must be contagious ... a special kind of Muggle magic.

As evening drew in, the trickle of guests grew to a steady stream, and shortly before eight, a slamming of car doors accompanied by a loud, orotund voice announced the arrival of Vernon and Petunia. Lily suppressed a sudden urge to hide in the attic. Some time after, there was a soft tap on her bedroom door, and her mother's head appeared around it, swiftly followed by her body.

"You're not dressed!" she said at once. Lily looked down at her comfiest, holiest old jumper and worn jeans.

"Odd," she remarked, "these look like clothes –"

"Lily, love, I really don't have time for wisecracks," her mother sighed. She folded her arms across her pretty green dress and appraised her daughter with a scrutiny bordering on the offensive.

"You look nice, Mum," said Lily truthfully.

"You don't," her mother responded bluntly. "It's gone half eight and you're not even changed yet. People are wondering where you are." She moved to Lily's wardrobe as she spoke, flinging open the doors with unwarranted force and starting to flick through the clothes hanging there. "You must have a nice dress somewhere, it can't just be robes ..."