Handmaiden

Chapter Two: Reconciliations

(A/N: why did I call the chapter this? Darned if I know, especially as it has nothing to do with reconciliations of any kind. *Shrugs hopelessly* Seemed like a good idea at the time.)

(A/N: Recap:) Harry spun. He stared. He gaped. "YOU!" he exclaimed.
Standing in front of him was Lily Potter, still wearing the same torn t- shirt Harry had seen her in when she had been turned away by the Dursleys. Slowly she moved aside the finger Harry hadn't realized he had pointing, that was now resting several inches from the bridge of her nose. "Yes?" she asked.
Harry soldiered on, though somewhat deflated by Lily's don't-carish tone. "You. Made. Me. Spend. My. Entire. Summer STAPLING SHINGLES TO A HOT TAR ROOF!!!!!!"
Lily snorted, not unkindly, but merely said, "Calm down, dear, your face is getting all red."
This only added more fuel to Harry's fire, who began again, "I HAVE HAD THE WORST SUMMER IN THE ENTIRE WORLD AND YOU ARE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN?!?!? You-" Harry broke off and stared at Lily again. "Mum?"
For a moment Harry thought he had become trapped in a sick time warp. Here he was, staring at his mother. Not his mother as she had been when she died, but his mother as a girl, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, when she was still a student at Hogwarts. Harry felt his mind and his vision reel, watched dispassionately as his knees began to buckle.
Lily gripped his shoulders and shook him, hard. "Harry, snap out of it!" she said, urgently, "Don't faint yet. Please don't faint! Try to be calm!"
"I just found out my mother is somehow back from the dead, and dating my godfather, who is now twice her age and change and you expect me to be calm?! I don't want to be calm!" Harry's voice rose, high and keening in his ears.
A sharp, slightly stinging slap brought him out of his daze. Harry looked up to see Sirius bending over him. To his surprise, Sirius was laughing. Not gut-wrenching gasps of mirth, but definitely chuckling. "You tell him, Lily," he said, before breaking off into a fit of giggles.
"Yes, well," Lily continued, matter-of-factly, "two things. Number one," she said, counting off on her fingers, "I am not dating Sirius, who, as you so astutely pointed out, is twice my age and then some-"
"Hey," Sirius broke in, "I'm only thirty-five! You make me sound like I'm ready for a retirement home or something!"
"Thank you, Sirius," Harry could detect a small measure of exasperation mixed in with Lily's slight Northern accent. "As I was saying: Harry, I'm not your mother. I'm your cousin."
"I have a cousin?!" Harry asked, before he did what he had been intending to do all day, and fainted.

Lily glanced around, and sighed. "Bloody stupid git," she muttered under her breath.
Sirius placed a restraining hand on her wrist. "Don't be too hard on him, Lils," he said softly, "he's had a hard life, worse than you can probably imagine. And losing his parents at such a young age. . . you'll never experience anything like that."
I wouldn't place any money on that one, Lily thought sardonically. All she said was, "I guess I can't blame him for hoping."
A shout interrupted her and Sirius' reverie. "Harry? Harry?"
"Who's that?" asked Lily, starting, "looks like a whole clan of Irishmen out for blood."
"Oh, Lord," sighed Sirius, "It must be the Weasleys. They were here with Harry to shop. They must be looking for him. I'd better duck out, then," he added. With a nod and smile for Lily, and a sympathetic look at the comatose Harry, he vanished back into the shadows of the alleyway, and with a small pop, Disapparated. Lily ducked back behind some rubbish bins, and waited for the Weasleys.
Remus Lupin dozed lightly in his study, a difficult feat as the approaching full moon always gave him nightmares. Must remember to owl Severus about the Wolfsbane Potion, he thought to himself, and tell him that I really don't think that rotten willowbark is an essential ingredient. This decided, he closed his eyes tightly, and slipped into the land of dreams.

"Where is that stupid kid?" Fred, grumbled, as he was marching up the hill towards the Leaky Cauldron, bags of school supplies tucked under his arms. "His ice-cream is beginning to melt all over me!"

George shook his head, and pointed his wand at Harry's ice-cream. "Glacio," he muttered. The ice-cream at once solidified and refroze. Fred goggled.
"How did you. . ."
"I've been studying," George said shortly, "you see, brother, unlike you, I actually want to leave that miserable rat-warren they call Hogwarts before I die."
Fred was about to respond when Ron's startled shout from up the hill jolted them out of their bickering. "Hey guys, I found Harry! Looks like he's fainted!"
Ginny promptly dropped her bags and ran up the hill to crouch beside Harry. "Oh, poor dear, it must be the heat." Her tone of voice left little doubt that the crush she had been harboring since first year had recently developed into a full scale infatuation.
"Probably just caught sight of himself in a mirror," a cold, drawling voice said from behind them. Standing in the shade, sipping an iced mai-tai with a green umbrella stood Draco Malfoy.

"You GIT!" snarled Ron, launching himself at Draco. George only barely managed to grab the back of his shirt as he was about to bear Malfoy to the ground in what would have been a splendid rugby tackle.
Fred extracted his wand. "Tripedimento," he whispered, pointing his wand at Malfoy. A foot appeared, dealt Draco a hefty kick to his stomach and more delicate parts of his anatomy, and disappeared. "See, brother," Fred said over his shoulder, "I study too."
Everyone was bending over Harry, attempting to wake him, when George noticed a flicker in the corner of his eye. He turned his head, half expecting to see Draco stir from where he lay, clutching his lower belly. Instead, he saw a stunningly pretty witch emerge from behind some bins in the back alley. Even through the layers of dust, he could see that her hair was as brilliantly red as his. With an impatient flick of her hand, she brushed a tendril off her face, and slowly stood up, a process that didn't take very long, as George could see she was only just over five feet high. She walked over.
"Hello," she said quietly. George stared. After all, it wasn't every day a nice-looking witch appears from behind some bins, comes up and introduces themselves. "Do you mind?" George realized that he was blocking her path. He stepped to the side, as she stepped to the side. He moved the other way, unintentionally, she followed. After about a minute, she sighed in exasperation. "Please, just let me through."
Fred, noticing his brother's new friend came over to join them. "Oi," he said, trying his best to sound gruff, a difficult feat, as his voice had stubbornly remained fairly tenor throughout puberty. "This is Harry Potter we're talking about here. If you think I'm just going to let anybody get to him when he's unconscious, then-"
"Thank you very much, mum," the witch said. "I know perfectly bloody well who this is. He's my bloody cousin for crying out loud! Now move!" She bent over Harry, and pressed her small hands to either side of his face, her face taut with concentration, Or worry, Fred thought to himself, there's something on that face that doesn't belong on a teenage girl.
Seconds later, she removed her hands. Harry woke up with a jolt. "Oh, bloody hell, not you again," he groaned, upon seeing Lily, "I should've just stayed asleep."

"Professor," Harry heard a voice say, "I know this is a bit unusual, but-" Harry thought he could recognize Sirius' voice. Wondering just where the heck he was, he sat up and looked around. The answer came to him instantly. Dumbledore's study, he realized, recognizing the leather armchairs from all the time he had spent in there last year. Sirius wasn't the only person there, either. Dumbledore, of course, and then a tall shadowy figure who looked, Harry thought, suspiciously like Snape. His fears were confirmed a minute later, when the man said, in hissing tones,
"Damn right it's unusual! In fact, Black, it's almost unheard of! I don't know why we should accept this girl, just because you say she's obviously a talented witch. After all, you said you were a talented wizard as well."
"Why I oughta. . ." Sirius launched himself at Snape, only to be intercepted by Dumbledore, who glared at them, most of his usual twinkle gone.
"Can we try to act like mature adults, please? Severus, Sirius, you're not in seventh year anymore. Try and act like it."
Snape merely acknowledged this with a nod, but Sirius looked abashed. "Sorry Professor. Its just, I think she needs to be at Hogwarts, for her safety if not for her intelligence. Although she's definitely got plenty of that," he added as an afterthought, "don't ask me how I know, Albus, but I'm positive someone's after her. She's got the air of someone who's being chased."
Harry leaned forward, thoroughly engrossed. If this is a dream, he thought, its a damn good one. A slight touch on his cheek spun him around. Lily Potter stood there, her hands on his cheeks. "What are you doing here?" he asked wearily, "don't you have someone else's life to go ruin?"
Lily shook her head. " Harry," she said urgently, her voice seeming somehow disembodied, as if it came from another time, another place, "it's time to wake up now."
Harry shook his head, intending to refuse. Lily screwed up her eyes, and an icy chill spread through him. His vision darkened into black, and when he opened his eyes again, he was back in the alley off Diagon Alley, the Weasley children standing over him. Fred and George seemed more interested in Lily than in his predicament, Ron was looking at him with brotherly concern, and Ginny looked as though she was dying to administer the kiss of life to him. Harry felt a wave of gratitude towards Lily for delaying this rather interesting proposition, a feeling that was almost immediately replaced by one of intense irritation when he realized that everyone was casting rather admiring looks at Lily, and completely ignoring him. Hello? He wanted to scream. I'm the one that fainted thank you very much!
"That was amazing!" George said to Lily, grinning at her, "how'd you do that?"
"Icy hands," Lily shrugged, "I'm Lily by the way. Harry's cousin- Lily Potter."
Fred held out his hand to shake, but Lily shoved her hands deep into the pocket of her far too-big jeans. George appeared lost in thought. "Tiger," he said eventually.
"Pardon?" Lily said, her face screwed up with bafflement.
"Tiger," George repeated, "a tiger lily, that's what you look like. I think I'll call you Tiger Lily, 'kay?"
Lily nodded, a small smile twitching at the corner of her lips.
"Lily! Lily, guess what?"
Lily spun around. Standing behind her was Sirius, a huge smile on his face. "I got your acceptance letter! You're going to Hogwarts!"
Severus Snape was brooding. What had possessed Dumbledore to allow an overage witch into Hogwarts? Didn't he know that they could only accept those students whose names were recorded by the magic quill upon their birth? And it seemed severely out of character for Dumbledore to accept a student totally based on the word of one of his most notorious students. It bordered on blatant favoritism. Snape knew that Dumbledore had always had a bit of a soft spot towards Gryffindors, but this was ridiculous. Perhaps, he thought, Albus was doing this for Potter. Now that would be completely like Albus, Snape thought bitterly, to show so much leniency towards the Potter family. Reward them when they do wrong, allow them to have their closest friends and relatives about them at all times, fight their fights for them. Snape had seen it when James was at school, and it now appeared to be happening again. He just hoped that-
"Holy Jesus in Heaven!" Severus jumped up, clutching his right forearm. With shaking fingers, he rolled up his sleeve. His eyes fixed on the crook up his elbow, staring past it, wide with horror. Though he tried hard to convince himself otherwise, he could not stop a part of his brain from whispering in dread, Again. . . HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Miss Potter,
As I am sure you are quite aware, we have not accepted an
overage student for the last four centuries. Nevertheless, we
are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sirius will tell you
what you need. I trust you are quite up to par with the rest of
your year, and we shall see you on September 1st.
Yours Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. Good luck, Miss Potter. You have a lot to live up to.
A. D.

"Do all acceptance letters sound this weird?" Lily glanced up from her perusal, a puzzled frown on her face.
"No, that's just Dumbledore," Sirius said, still grinning. "Normally you'd get the letter from Minerva, oops, Professor McGonagall, but this was a special case, and so Albus, that's Dumbledore, thought you deserved a special letter."
"So I'm really the only student who's going to begin late?" Lily asked, her bafflement fading into worry. All I want to do is just blend into the woodwork, she thought, not be something all special.
"Well, in recent times. Uric the Oddball didn't start till fourth year, but-"
"Let me guess," Lily said dryly, "that's how he got the nickname?"
"No, I think that's when he transfigured his aunt into a goat and took her on the Crusades with him. Don't worry Lils. You'll do just fine."
"Humph." Lily shrugged, and turned back to her letter. "It says here you'll tell me what I need. Does that mean we have to go shopping?"
"Yeah," Sirius said despondent, "it probably does."
"Victor!" the man called, yanking on a small bell-pull by his right arm, "I have need of you!"
The disembodied voice of Victor, nervous and twittering, echoed through the room, "Y-yes, sir?"
"Come to me, I have need of you."
"Yes, sir."

"So where do we go first?" Lily asked, with all the air of an excited teenage girl being introduced to the biggest shopping mall she had ever seen.
"Well," Sirius mused, not at all used to having to plan these things, "I guess you need clothes," here he stuck his hand through a hole in Lily's sleeve, "as I think your t-shirt currently has five armholes."
"So how about there?" Lily pointed to Madame Malkins (Wizarding Wear for All Occasions), and trotted forward, literally dragging Sirius behind her.

"God," Sirius said, as he caught up with her, "you act like you've never been shopping before!"
Lily's face fell. "I haven't," she said shortly, and proceeded to walk very quickly towards the entrance.
"That would explain the five armholes," Sirius said quietly to himself, shaking his head at how girls could somehow manage to be all perky and hyper one moment, and look like their parents had just been shot in the next.
"Robe me, Victor," the man said coldly, "I will see the workers today."
"Yes, sir. The black?"
"I think so. With the serpent clasps."
"Of course, sir." Victor began to pull the folds of fabric over the man's tall frame. Quaking inside at the thought of being so close to his master, so close to death, he did up the clasps with shaking fingers.

Once he had finished, his master turned toward him, his face shadowed. "Pull up the hood," he commanded shortly, "It is not well for them to see my face yet."
"Yes, master."
"Send Nagini to me as well. She has been quite looking forward to today, I believe, and will view the proceedings with great anticipation."
"Right away, sir." Victor scurried from the room. The man watched as he left, a small smile imperceptible under the hood of his robe.
"Ah, Victor, how you puzzle me. There are great depths to you, I believe, under your mask of stupidity and cowardice. Why did you change your name? What purpose does it serve? Why do you conceal your reasons from me, your master? There is a darkness in you, Victor, I sense that. But I know not what your final plan may be. That is dangerous. You are dangerous. But you have your uses, and I still have need of you. Once your task is over, however, well, we shall see."
"Nagini, my lord." The man spun to see Victor standing in the doorway, a strange and puzzled look upon his face.
How long had he been standing there? The man thought with a start, Long enough. Extracting a wand from the folds underneath his robe, the man pointed it at Victor, and uttered, "Memorobilius!" Victor's puzzled mask faded, replaced by a blank stare.
"Nagini, my lord," Victor repeated, blandly.
"Thank you, Victor. Come, Nagini, there is much I must show you today."
"Why, oh why does all the bad stuff happen to me?" Harry moaned, trudging towards Flourish and Blotts with the rest of the Weasleys. Ginny nodded sympathetically, and tried to squeeze his hand. Harry was having none of this, and quickly shoved his hand deep in the pocket of his robes.
"Cheer up, mate," Ron said, slinging a friendly arm around Harry's shoulders. Ginny glared at him (how come he's allowed to do all the fun stuff?) and sniffed. "She'll probably get sorted into Slytherin or Hufflepuff or something," he finished.
"Now you've done it," Harry groaned, "you've jinxed us! She'll definitely be in Gryffindor now!"

"Well," Ron said, commiserating, "I am prepared to hate her as much as you like."
"I don't know," Harry said, thoughtfully, "it's like I don't know why I should hate her, I just do. I don't want to. It would seem petty."
"That's the beauty of it," Ron shrugged, "you can't, but I can."
"Go nuts."
"Oh, I don't know-" Fred began.
"- I thought she was quite good-looking actually." George finished. The twins glared at each other for a moment.
"I thought so first!" Fred declared.
"There's a flaw in your logic, brother dearest," George said, with an air of McGonagall about him. "I saw her before you did."
"You could tell she liked me better, though," Fred assumed the position of one who is about to go down a long, hard road, but is preparing to soldier on.
"Why? At least she actually talked to me."
"Yeah, and told you to bugger off!"
"Those weren't her exact words."
"Close enough. Tell you what, we'll flip a coin for her, okay?"
"That's awful. It's, like, inhuman or something. You're treating her like she's a piece of- okay." George said with a sigh. He pulled a Knut from his pocket. "Call it in the air." He threw the coin up, and it flipped and turned over and over itself in the air, the bronze flashing in the sun. It began to fall.
"Tails," Fred said promptly. With a clatter, the coin fell and rolled into a crack in the cobblestone. Fred rushed over and glanced at it. "Best out of three, okay?" he asked. George sighed, and flung the coin up once more.
The man and Nagini walked together down a long hall. Scurrying past them in both directions, were scores of wizards, their backs bent, carefully averting their eyes from Nagini's piercing stare. Victor hurried along beside them, anxious to keep up.
"The search, Victor, how does it go?"
"Well, Master."
"Have you pinpointed the girl's location?"
"Not yet, Master. We received word that she was being sheltered by a Muggle, but no traces of this Muggle exist. We do, however believe, that she will be beginning at Hogwarts this year."
"That young?"
"Not as a student, sire, something else, a- Ah here we are," Victor stopped abruptly, turning towards a heavy wooden door that faded into the wall. He turned to the magical speakerphone next to it, and spoke, all trace of nervousness gone. "Victor," he said curtly, "I have the master with me. He wants to see The Project."
A crackling voice issued from the other end of the speaker, "Please stand by for magical examination."
Victor turned back towards the man. "Sorry, sire," he said apologetically, "procedure. We can't make exceptions for anyone. Even you."
The man nodded curtly, privately wondering at the remarkable change that seemed to have come over Victor, when he was here among his experiments, the things he did best. He never had been much of a wizard, the man remembered, barely able to charm a cockroach. Potions was were he really excelled. As a child, he was always dabbling in this or that.

Victor stood before a small bolt-hole in the door, tensed and ready. A beam of brilliant green light shot out of the door, hitting him full force in the chest. He threw back his head in a silent scream.
"You're clean," the disembodied voice on the other side said. The door swung silently open. Victor walked inside, still nursing his chest, followed closely by his master. Inside, there was nothing.
At least, that's how it appeared. If one was to look closely into the gloom, as the man did now, they would see two things. In the corner, almost out of sight, was a small cauldron, gently simmering over blue-black flames. In the centre of the room, a circle, surrounded by magical runes, was deeply engraved into the floor. The man could have deciphered it, but his attention was distracted yet again, when Victor piped up,
"The potion is ready to be tested, Master."
"Good," he said slowly, his eyes still fixated on the circle in fascination, "good. They are all coming, Lestrange, and Zabini, and Nott, and Macnair, and the others?"
"They have been informed, sire. They are on their way as we speak."
"Excellent. And the traitor, what of him?"
"What of him, sire?"
"I want him here too."
"This," Sirius said, gesturing to the huge shop in front of them, "is Madame Malkin's. This is where we'll be getting your clothes, including all your school robes. The list says plain black for day wear, and that's exactly what we'll be getting. No lace, no plunging necklines, no beaded bodices, and no off the shoulder. Capisce?"

"Pardon?" Lily murmured, deeply immersed in examining the racks of robes, trying to find ones in her size that weren't emblazoned with butterflies or bumblebees.
"Never mind," muttered Sirius, "I've spent too much time around teenage girls."
Minutes later, Lily emerged from the piles of robes. Over her jeans and t-shirt she had pulled a short-sleeved, black robe with a single silver fastening in the shape of a crescent moon at the throat. "How do I look?" she asked, pirouetting, the full skirt of her robes billowing.
"Like a serious young witch at one of the best magic schools in the world," Sirius smiled.
"Really?" Lily looked distinctly unhappy about this last comment.
"Just joking, Lils," Sirius said, still grinning at Lily's pained expression, "you look lovely, really. But make sure you get some with long sleeves for the winter," he said nostalgically, " Hogwarts is bitter in January."
"Hey, you two," a voice from behind them said, a little breathlessly. Lily turned around. It was one of the redheads she had seen earlier. I think his name is. . . Greg? She thought uncertainly. He was struggling with two enormous shopping bags.
Sirius glanced at George, barely able to keep the irritated frown off his face. That boy is making eyes at her so obviously you could see them from the moon, he thought, and she doesn't seem to notice. Good for her!
"I'm George," the boy said, sticking out his hand towards Lily. She grasped It and shook it firmly.

"Don't you have a brother?"
"Five, actually. Which one were you talking about?"
"The one that looks like you, what's his name?"
Sirius looked at Lily. I've never heard her say that much at one time before. Going to Hogwarts must be good for her.
"Fred. We're twins. Hey, you want to know a trick?"
"What sort of trick?" Lily said warily. The last one Sirius had shown her started with, 'first I'll need an ordinary twenty Galleons. . .'
"How to tell us apart. Its a very rare talent, one my mum hasn't even quite got down yet."
"Sure, why not?"
That girl is so adorably innocent. . . Sirius thought unhappily. She can't even tell that she's flirting. Or, at least, I hope she can't.
George rolled up his sleeve. Lily leaned over. Nestled in the crook of his elbow, was a birthmark, shaped slightly like the Greek letter Y. "Fred doesn't have one," he said by way of explanation.
"Great," she said sarcastically, "every time I want to know which one of you two I'm talking to, I'm going to have to take your shirt off, huh?" Seeing George's and Sirius' expressions, she added quickly, "don't answer that one."
Hearing a call from the street, George turned towards the window. "Oh, brilliant," he said wearily, "it's Ron. I got to go, before he comes in here and drags me out by the ear. See you in school, Tiger Lily," he said, going out the door, with a slight wave. Lily waved back.
Snape had fallen asleep in his chair, still clutching his forearm. The figures, hooded and cloaked in black, who had crept in, undetected, through his front door, found him there. Without a word, they bundled him up, and Disapparated, the unconscious Snape clutched in their arms.
When Snape awoke, he was bound hand and foot, shoved in the corner of some damp dungeon. One, he thought bitterly, not unlike his own classroom at Hogwarts. Fate is not without a sense of irony. At first he could see nothing, and was only aware of his constraints because of a dull numbing ache in his wrists and feet. A sensation he remembered only too well. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to make out a group of figures, huddled around what appeared to be a cauldron. One of them turned.
"Hello, Severus," he said quietly, "do you remember me?" Snape remembered all right. The sound of those hissing tones in his ear, giving him an offer he couldn't refuse, had never left him. His only answer was to spit in the face of the man bending over him.
"Tsk, tsk, Severus," the man said, Ã'I see you do. Pity, I was hoping that you had become somehow addled, that we could welcome you back with open arms. I see it is not to be. False illusions can be so comforting, can't they, Severus?"
"You. . .Bastard!" Snape spat out, with ill-concealed fury.
The man merely chuckled. "Yes, indeed, Severus. Is that the best you can do? You the famous Potions master, the one who heaps sarcasm on all and sundry, sparing no one. This is what you have been reduced to? A whinging heap of bones on the floor?"
"You. . .Lied. . .To me," Snape gasped, feeling faint against the cold might of the man standing before him.
"I lie to everyone, Severus, what makes you think I would treat you any different?"
"I. . .Trusted. . .You."
"They all trust me at first, Severus. That is why they are weak, and I, I who trust no one, I am strong. But dispense with the pleasantries, Severus, I have brought you here for a purpose. Great things must be accomplished before the night is out. Zabini!" he called, turning back to the assembled crowd.
"Here, my lord."
"Good, step into the circle. You have been chosen for a great honour."
"Thank you, my lord." Zabini bowed low, and walked into the circle, his face tight with anticipation.
"Watch closely, Severus," the man said, glancing at Snape, where he laid, sprawled on the floor. "If you are half the Potions expert you say you are, then you should be able to understand what I am doing within no time at all. Bring forth the goblet!" He turned to Victor, who stood ready, an elaborate chalice in his hands. Victor walked to the edge of the circle, careful not to step inside, and cautiously handed the chalice to Zabini, who took it with trembling fingers. The hooded figures began chanting in unison,
"Vocamus, Morphee, deus somniorum. Vocamus, Apollo, deus praedictorum. Prodi adolescentia ei qui stat ibi. Inventus est dignus. Enuntate vester postestas! Exciti!"
With this last word, Zabini lifted the goblet to his lips. Simultaneously, Snape shouted, straining against his bonds, "It's a myth! The Adolescentia Potion will never exist! It's a lie!"
Zabini let out a shriek of pain, and a curtain of brilliant blue light, flared around the perimeter of the circle. When at last the blinding radiance subsided, Zabini had disappeared.
Victor turned coolly from the spot where Zabini had stood only moments before. With a slightly apologetic shrug, he turned to his master.
"Pardon, my lord," he said quietly, "the results were slightly. . .Disappointing."
The man said nothing, but turned to Snape, who had collapsed back into his corner, the look of immense horror still on his face.
"Don't worry, Severus," the man said coldly. "Zabini!" He called, turning back to the assembled crowd. "This time, it's only a dream."
With a start, Snape woke up, still in the armchair that he had dozed off in. One hundred miles away, Remus Lupin woke too, an identical look of horror on his face. Both of them started with relief, and sank back, the man's last words still echoing in their heads, only a dream. . .
As soon as George was out the door, Sirius rounded on Lily, "somebody's got a crush," he chanted in a sing-song, playground tone.
"Don't be stupid," Lily snapped, a faint blush staining her pale cheeks, " I was just trying to be friendly."
"I wasn't talking about you," Sirius said, staring at the Weasleys' retreating backs, a strange expression on his face. "I just hope George remembers that he's two years older than you, that's all."
"Sirius, you jump to conclusions too fast!" Lily practically yelled, knowing her behavior was irrational. She felt a familiar knot in the pit of her stomach. Calm down, she thought, get a grip.
"Maybe," Sirius said absently, still staring after George, "I just know what I see."
"Oh, and I'm sure that being a criminal on the run for the past fifteen years has made you an excellent judge of people!" Lily said, or rather, yelled. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew she had gone too far.
Sirius smiled weakly. "That was below the belt, Lils," he remarked quietly, although it seemed to her that he was choking back emotion.
"I'm sorry, Sirius," Lily said, equally quietly, the anger that she had felt just minutes earlier completely gone, and with it the knot in her stomach. "It's just that, well, it seemed amazing that George would talk to me at all, seeing how much Harry hates me."
"Harry doesn't hate you," Sirius said cautiously, well aware that he could make or break a friendship with his next words, "he's just-"
"Just what?" Lily asked dryly, "Jealous?"
"Maybe."
"Of what? Trust me, that boy would not wish a trip inside my head on his worst enemy."
"I really cannot stand her," Harry said through gritted teeth, as he, Ron and Hermione (whom they had met, completely by chance, in Flourish and Blotts) trudged down the road, heavily weighted with shopping bags of all shapes and sizes.
"Why?" Hermione said reasonably, the only one of the group who had yet to meet Lily. "I mean, you barely met the girl two hours ago, and that was only for ten minutes."
"Yeah," Harry said, sourly, "the worst ten minutes of my life." He still had not told his friends about the dream, as he suspected that they would either dismiss it, or take it as an omen of dire things to come.
"You're dodging the question, Harry," Hermione reminded him sternly, looking so much like Professor McGonagall that Ron spluttered, and tried hide his laugh in Pigwidgeon's feathers.
"Well, I really don't know," Harry said, sounding perfectly serious even though he was grinning broadly at the sight of Ron choking on a mouthful of owl. "It's almost as though she shows up at our door in July, manages to ruin my entire summer, but at least that's the last I'll see of her, right? Wrong! I end up seeing her again, with my godfather, and all of a sudden, he's acting like she's the bloody best thing since sliced bread. There's something not right there."
"Maybe she's hexed him," Ron said, spitting out down, "an Entrancement Enchantment or something like that."
"Trust me," Hermione said, slipping once again into lecture mode, "if Sirius was under the Entrancement Enchantment, you would definitely know. They would be attached at the lip, and you'd have to pry him off her with a crowbar. No, sorry, Ron, I think he might actually like her of his own free will."
"Yeah, but there's more," Harry said morosely, "I then find out she's my cousin! As if she's not bad enough already, I then have to realize that I'm related to her!"
"You know what I think your real problem with her is, Harry?" Hermione said abruptly, "I don't think you can forgive her for giving you that one minute of hope that your mum might really be alive again."
About an hour, and several shops later, Lily and Sirius approached the dingy shop that proclaimed, in peeling letters, Ollivander's Wands.
"The most important part of your magical life," Sirius said quietly, with something akin to awe in his voice, "your wand."
Lily shrugged noncommittally, and walked into the shop. Her eyes widened. Stacked, in rows that seemed to reach beyond the ceiling, in the most haphazard order, were boxes upon boxes of what seemed to be magic wands. Small labels on the outside of the box proclaimed their contents. Holly and Veela hair, one read, eighteen inches. Lily perused the boxes, staring into them at the polished rods of wood that they contained.
"Pick one up," said a voice at her elbow. "Give it a twirl."
Lily jumped and spun. "Oh," she said, relieved, at the sight of a very small man gazing up at her, "you must be Mr. Ollivander."
"That I am," he said brightly. "So, what do you say? Try this one." He offered suddenly, handing a box too her. "Willow and dragon heartstring, nine and three-eights inches. Very nice for Transfiguration."
Lily waved it. Nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander handed her another one. She waved it. Nothing happened. He handed her another one. She waved it. Nothing happened. "I'm beginning to see a pattern here," Lily muttered quietly. So this continued for about an hour.
"Difficult customer, eh?" Mr. Ollivander said brightly, although he was beginning to look more than slightly frayed at the edges. "Don't worry, lovey, we'll find the perfect wand for you yet." Suddenly he stopped talking and glanced at a very forlorn looking box in the corner. "I don't wonder- Here, give this a spin."

Please, please work, Lily prayed, as she picked up the wand. Much to her surprise and delight, the wand emitted a shower of black sparks.
"Seems we have found the wand for you at last, Miss Potter," Mr. Ollivander said in obvious glee. He looked at the box, and his face fell, "Dogwood and kitren hair," he said, almost to himself. "How very peculiar."
Lily placed ten Galleons down for the wand, and walked out of the shop, clutching it to her chest happily.
"How very peculiar, Miss Potter," Mr Ollivander said, long after Lily had left, "that you appear to have chosen the one wand in the shop that doesn't work."