Counting Sheep

1. Lily

Lily Evans

May 2nd, 1969

"Sev, what's a Peeves?"

The boy next to Lily frowned in confusion. "Peeves?"

Lily blushed, wondering if she'd asked something wrong or something embarrassing. Was she supposed to know what a Peeves was?

She and her friend sat cross-legged next to each other, both with a small collection of pebbles in front of them. They were a bit far from Lily's house, but she could still make out the tip of her chimney in the far distance if she squinted enough. It was a sunny day; the sunlight reflected off the small stream running by their feet, causing the water to glisten as though someone had crushed diamonds into dust and deposited it into the stream. The cluster of trees behind Lily provided ample shade to sit under, and the slight breeze in the air added to the relaxing coolness of the atmosphere.

Sev tossed a mottled gray pebble into the water and grinned up at Lily, crooked teeth on full display. "You mean the poltergeist?"

Lily shrugged, leaning back against the trunk of the large oak tree behind her. She could feel her face heating up, slowly catching up to her hair's fiery shade of red. "I dunno. You mentioned a Peeves before when you were describing the ghosts in the castle, so I was just curious." She picked at her sandals nonchalantly, eying Sev from the corner of her eye as she waited for his reply.

Sev laughed, a slightly croaky sound that nevertheless warmed Lily's heart. She loved hearing the sound of his laugh and seeing the expression of ease on his face he had on currently, especially since she knew he was having problems at home. Arguing parents. Lily thought about her own parents, who still made moon eyes at each other like newlyweds. Her dad woke up at the same time every morning to brew her mum's favorite citrus tea, early enough that it'd still be steaming in the pot when the recipient came downstairs. Her mum would then kiss her dad on the cheek and prepare the only breakfast he'd eaten in years for him—toast with strawberry jam and a poached egg on the side.

"Peeves!" Sev laughed, hugging his midriff. "You mean Peeves, the school poltergeist!"

Lily flushed harder, though she couldn't stop herself from giggling slightly. "Okay, yes, that! The school poltergeist! Um. . . . What's a poltergeist?"

Sev shook his head, stifling a smile as though he wasn't simply a boy with tarnished clothing and worn sneakers, but a mysterious man who'd lived thousands of years, seen many things, and possessed many secrets. However, Lily was familiar with that look—it was the look that Sev always took on before eagerly jumping into grand descriptions of magic and the Wizarding world.

Because he was a wizard, and Lily was a witch.

Lily still had trouble reconciling with the idea that she was a . . . witch. However, surprisingly, she didn't meet the idea with any negative associations. On the contrary, when Severus Snape had approached her and [abruptly] sprang the epiphany onto her, she'd be excited (a bit overwhelmed at the abruptness of it all, yes, but excited). A witch! She knew there was something special about her—as narcissistic as that sounded—because how else could she explain what happened at Dorothy Fryer's seventh birthday party? Just because Lily was thinking pitying thoughts about Dorothy's pet bird, a poor parrot that'd been locked up in a tiny cage in the corner of the room throughout the entirety of the party, didn't mean that she'd wanted the bird's cage to explode! One second saw Lily eyeing the bird sadly from the opposite side of the room, and the next saw a blast of metal and feathers in the middle of the Fryer's living room. Windows were shattered, children were screaming, and adults were frantically running around in confusion. At least the bird had managed to escape through one of the shattered windows.