Fic: All Tied Up, Chapter 8: Meeting the Parents
Title: All Tied Up
Chapter 8: Meeting the Parents
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,233
Genre: romance/humor
Ships: L/J
Status: WIP
It turns out that I am still alive, and I do still enjoy writing. Lots of life has happened since the last time I "picked up a pen," but I promise I DO intend to finish all the WIPs. As well as the actual novel I plan to start for NaNoWriMo next month... *High aspirations over here folks.* If any of you are still out there, I do hope you enjoy this long overdue installment.
Back to Chapter 7
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, objects, settings, and plots are the property of J.K. Rowling. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise associated with Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended an no money is being made from the writing of this fanfiction.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It is Sunday afternoon and Lily is sitting across a small, round table in a beautifully sunny room that she can’t appreciate because she is having tea with James’s mother.
Tea! With James’s mother!
Lily can hardly recall how she got here. She remembers crying on Alice’s shoulder last night in abject terror that James’s parents will hate her.
“Of course they won’t hate you, don’t be ridiculous,” Alice gently scolded, trailing a soothing hand down Lily’s hair.
“How can they not?! Surely James has told them all about how I’ve rejected him over the years. Again and again and again. Who wouldn’t hate the girl who’s repeatedly and brutally broken their poor son’s heart-“
“I don’t know about repeatedly. Just how long do you think James has been in-”
“And we’ve been dating for ages now, and I haven’t even bothered to meet them. Or write them. Wave across the 9 3/4 platform, even.”
“Lily, you’ve only been dating-”
“They’re going to hate me so much!”
Alice sighed. “I’m sure it will be fine, Lily. But if it’s not, James will still love you. It’s going to be okay.”
“You think it won’t be okay?!”
She vaguely remembers getting out of bed this morning, but breakfast is a complete blank. The next thing she really recalls clearly, through her panic and terror, is her first sight of the absolutely massive house the Potters call home. Upon first sight of it, Lily immediately felt rather small and inconsequential. It was a new and intimidating feeling.
It really did not help her nerves at all.
The knocker, when they reached the large double doors at the top of the walk, was in the shape of the Potter crest. It was heavy and cold in Lily’s hand when she lifted it.
“Whatcha doing, Lils?” James had asked, looking at her strangely. “I live here, remember?”
Lily thinks that’s the point at which she started hyperventilating. Which is why, when James led her into the (giant, well appointed, good heavens look at the size of that crystal chandelier) entryway and a tall, elderly man with fly-away grey hair and spectacles leapt out from around a corner and shouted “Ah - hah!” whilst waving his arms about in the air, Lily screamed and promptly broke down into uncontrollable tears.
“Fleamont Albert Potter, what in Merlin’s name have you done to my new daughter?” A woman with long silver hair, still tall and elegant despite her age (the Potters had James late in life, Lily remembeeds after a moment of hysterical bewilderment), swept around the corner just seconds later and gathered Lily up into her arms. Lily could almost feel the hair on the top of her head singeing from the force of the glare the woman (Mrs. Potter, Lily assumed) was directing at her husband.
“I didn’t-I was just-”
“Never mind, him, Lily dear,” Mrs. Potter said, wrapping a firm arm around Lily’s shoulder and offering her an (embroidered and monogrammed) hanky. She shot another sharp look at her husband as she led Lily out of the room. “We’ll leave the pranksters to entertain themselves until such time as your new father-in-law can bother to dig up whatever is left of his dusty, deteriorated manners.”
“Hey!” Mr. Potter’s voice had floated out of the entryway behind them over Lily’s watery laugh.
So Lily has already met Mr. Potter. Sort of. And Mrs. Potter (“Call me, Euphemia, dear”) has been very gracious, even in the face of Lily’s nerves. And tears (Lily thinks she may never live down the embarrassment). She served Lily tea and biscuits, asked her all sorts of questions, and generally made her feel comfortable and at home.
Things are really going very well (aside from those first two minutes, obviously) until the subject of the wedding comes up. Mrs. Potter asks where Lily is thinking she’d like to have the ceremony, and Lily promptly panics again.
“Dearest, it’s alright if you don’t have the answer right now. There are plenty of options, and enough time to do a little research and pick one of them.”
“Research?” Lily blinks at Mrs. Potter in slight confusion.
“My son might have mentioned your studious habits once or one hundred times over the years. It seems to me that someone so predisposed to studying would like to research her options. I certainly have the resources here for you to do so.”
“You mean I get a choice?”
“Of course you do, dear. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Well...” Lily pauses to gather her thoughts. “I’m Muggleborn you know.” Mrs. Potter nods. “So I don’t know a whole lot about wizarding weddings. I barely know much about Muggle weddings, to be honest. And James is a Pureblood, of some standing I’ve been led to believe, and I’ve done some research and I was feeling better about things last night because I made this list” she pulls a list from her pocket and waves it about a bit, “and I highlighted line items based on my assumptions regarding importance but I’m not really sure how much tradition dictates things in families like yours or whether I really get to choose anything at all and I’m just so nervous about trying to figure all this out and-”
“Lily, Lily!” Mrs. Potter reaches out with one slender, bejeweled hand and touches Lily’s arm gently. “Breathe, child.”
Lily takes a single deep breath. And another. One more.
Mrs. Potter smiles gently. “We don’t stand much on all that ceremony here. We are, according to those who put stock in such things, a rather old and influential family, yes. But Lily, darling, we’re just people. And we don’t care much for all that ‘standing’ nonsense. Mr. Potter and I had a small ceremony in the backyard of this very house when we married. We invited a total of twenty people. There were a number of very miffed people after that, I can tell you, including Mr. Potter’s grandmother because she did care very much about standing. But we were happy with our decision and our wedding was lovely. Whatever it is you want to do, my darling girl, I will help you do it. You have as many or as few choices in this as you want.”
“But what if I get something wrong? I don’t want to miss something, or mess up an important tradition, or-”
“That’s what you have me for, dear. I dare say I have some experience in these things.” Mrs. Potter’s smile is gentle and lovely.
Lily tries her best to smile back, but she suspects it’s rather wavery. Mrs. Potter’s expression creases slightly with worry.
“Lily, do you love my son?”
“More than anything,” Lily answers without hesitation.
“Then it will be fine. At the end of the day, all that matters is that you’re married. The rest is just window dressing. Isn’t that right?”
Lily nods. “Right.”
“Good.” The hand on Lily’s arm pats her twice and then turns palm up in front of Lily’s nose. “Now let me see that list of yours.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lily is sipping her third-or is it her fourth?-cup of tea of the afternoon. Over the rim of her cup, she shoots an amused glance in James’s direction. James grins unabashedly.
“I’m sure Lily has no desire to be dragged down into that dungeon you use as a work room and-”
“Dungeon! How dare you, madam!”
“It is dark and cold and cobwebby, Fleamont. All it needs is a few bars on the windows and a pair of thick cuffs-”
“It is a perfectly comfortable work space, both in regards to temperature and lighting.”
“It is freezing-”
“Most potions require a cooler base temperature for accurate outcomes! You know this!”
“-and it is dark-”
“Psh. Only if one is losing one’s eyesight.”
“-and it is damp.”
“How dare you!”
“I swear I saw a little rivulet of water trailing down the wall just last week.”
“By Merlin’s beard, Euphemia!” Fleamont Potter leaps from his seat and runs wrinkled hands through his wildly unkempt hair. Lily watches in fascination as he rants and paces, adamantly defending the standard of care with which he keeps the work room where, Lily surmises, he brews potions. Euphemia also watches him, a tiny gleeful smile hidden behind her tea cup, clearly enjoying her husband’s passionate rebuttal.
Lily is both baffled and bemused. She has never seen another couple banter and tease in this way. If she didn’t know any better...well, if she didn’t know any better, she’d call it flirting.
Do married couples flirt? Lily is fairly certain she’s never seen her parents do so. Her parents certainly love each other, but it is much quieter than this, whatever this is.
“The Potionarium is perfection, is what it is!” Mr. Potter declares, wagging a finger in his wife’s direction.
“The Potionarium?!” James crows, interrupting his father’s tirade.
“Now, don’t you start,” Mr. Potter says, narrowing his eyes in his son’s direction. “A room of such grand design, of such glorious purpose, deserves an equally grand and glorious name. It’s taken me ages to come up with one-a”
“But ‘Potionarium,’ Dad?”
“I’ll not hear another word about it from you, my boy. I realize we’ve pampered you horribly over the course of your young life, but there are lines even you cannot cross without consequences. “
James bites his lip to keep himself from cackling out loud. His face is turning red with the effort, though, so he is failing rather badly at hiding his reaction.
It is wonderful, Lily decides. Whatever this is, this flirting, teasing, joyful thing, it is wonderful. Lily looks at James, and she looks at his parents, and she sees what could be-what will be-for her and for James. She sees it so clearly as she watches James’s elderly parents, with their wrinkled skin and age spots and their gray and silver hair. She watches them together, flirting and in love even after all the long years of their marriage, and she watches them with James, who they’ve raised to be strong and bold and kind and thoughtful, and she can see it-she can see the life she and James will build, the joy and love they will share, with each other and with their children.
Her children will never know the pain of family rejection. They will never know the sinking, sick feeling in the pit of their stomachs when they realize a sister or brother hates them simply for being who they are.
Her children, James’s children, will get to grow up in a house like this, full of laughter and teasing and respect and support, all built on a foundation of love so strong and beautiful it is practically tangible.
Lily watches the Potter family love each other, and she can see it, stretching out towards her, enfolding her, carrying her with it. She can see the life she will have and it is wonderful.
James loses the battle against his laughter and cackles wildly. His father makes a snarky comment about the lack of respect in this family and James falls out of his chair. He is curled on the floor, tears streaming from his eyes, clutching at his ribs and laughing hysterically. Mrs. Potter extends one hand to her husband and tells him that even if no one respects him, she will still love him. Mr. Potter takes her hand and kisses her knuckles as he sits beside her.
“Of course you will, darling,” he says, tucking her hand into his elbow. “I never doubted it for a moment.”
Lily watches them and smiles.
It’s going to be wonderful.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“So,” James says as he helps her into her coat at the end of the afternoon. “Feeling better?”
Lily smiles at him as she tugs her hair free from her collar and wraps her scarf around her neck. “Much. Your parents are marvelous, James. And your mum gave me this book,” she holds up a well-worn copy of Pomp and Circumstance of Wizarding Weddings, a self-updating guide, “and she’s offered to help with the wedding.”
James grins as he opens the front door and motions for Lily to precede him through with a gentle hand to the small of her back. “The two of you are going to be inseparable now aren’t you?”
Lily grins. “She wants to have weekly tea, just us girls.”
James gently pokes the tip of Lily’s nose. “I told you this was a good idea.”
“Hail the all knowing James Potter!” Lily cries, lifting both hands overhead.
“That’s right, you snarky wench,” James teases, taking her hand and leading her toward the Apparition point. “Maybe next time you’ll skip the nerves and just follow my advice.”
Lily snorts. “Not likely, Potter. Following you blindly is generally a bad idea.”
“You’re lack of faith in my cunning mind is astounding,” James tells her wryly.
“Oh, I have plenty of faith in your cunning mind,” Lily says with a laugh. “It’s your common sense I have doubts about.”
James pretends offense. “You’re very lucky I love you,” he tells her with a playful growl, tugging her against him as they reach the Apparition point.
“Mmmm. I know.” Lily smiles, looping her arms around James waist.
James laughs, secures her against him, and Apparates them away to the gates of Hogwarts.
Chapter 8: Meeting the Parents
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,233
Genre: romance/humor
Ships: L/J
Status: WIP
It turns out that I am still alive, and I do still enjoy writing. Lots of life has happened since the last time I "picked up a pen," but I promise I DO intend to finish all the WIPs. As well as the actual novel I plan to start for NaNoWriMo next month... *High aspirations over here folks.* If any of you are still out there, I do hope you enjoy this long overdue installment.
Back to Chapter 7
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, objects, settings, and plots are the property of J.K. Rowling. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise associated with Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended an no money is being made from the writing of this fanfiction.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It is Sunday afternoon and Lily is sitting across a small, round table in a beautifully sunny room that she can’t appreciate because she is having tea with James’s mother.
Tea! With James’s mother!
Lily can hardly recall how she got here. She remembers crying on Alice’s shoulder last night in abject terror that James’s parents will hate her.
“Of course they won’t hate you, don’t be ridiculous,” Alice gently scolded, trailing a soothing hand down Lily’s hair.
“How can they not?! Surely James has told them all about how I’ve rejected him over the years. Again and again and again. Who wouldn’t hate the girl who’s repeatedly and brutally broken their poor son’s heart-“
“I don’t know about repeatedly. Just how long do you think James has been in-”
“And we’ve been dating for ages now, and I haven’t even bothered to meet them. Or write them. Wave across the 9 3/4 platform, even.”
“Lily, you’ve only been dating-”
“They’re going to hate me so much!”
Alice sighed. “I’m sure it will be fine, Lily. But if it’s not, James will still love you. It’s going to be okay.”
“You think it won’t be okay?!”
She vaguely remembers getting out of bed this morning, but breakfast is a complete blank. The next thing she really recalls clearly, through her panic and terror, is her first sight of the absolutely massive house the Potters call home. Upon first sight of it, Lily immediately felt rather small and inconsequential. It was a new and intimidating feeling.
It really did not help her nerves at all.
The knocker, when they reached the large double doors at the top of the walk, was in the shape of the Potter crest. It was heavy and cold in Lily’s hand when she lifted it.
“Whatcha doing, Lils?” James had asked, looking at her strangely. “I live here, remember?”
Lily thinks that’s the point at which she started hyperventilating. Which is why, when James led her into the (giant, well appointed, good heavens look at the size of that crystal chandelier) entryway and a tall, elderly man with fly-away grey hair and spectacles leapt out from around a corner and shouted “Ah - hah!” whilst waving his arms about in the air, Lily screamed and promptly broke down into uncontrollable tears.
“Fleamont Albert Potter, what in Merlin’s name have you done to my new daughter?” A woman with long silver hair, still tall and elegant despite her age (the Potters had James late in life, Lily remembeeds after a moment of hysterical bewilderment), swept around the corner just seconds later and gathered Lily up into her arms. Lily could almost feel the hair on the top of her head singeing from the force of the glare the woman (Mrs. Potter, Lily assumed) was directing at her husband.
“I didn’t-I was just-”
“Never mind, him, Lily dear,” Mrs. Potter said, wrapping a firm arm around Lily’s shoulder and offering her an (embroidered and monogrammed) hanky. She shot another sharp look at her husband as she led Lily out of the room. “We’ll leave the pranksters to entertain themselves until such time as your new father-in-law can bother to dig up whatever is left of his dusty, deteriorated manners.”
“Hey!” Mr. Potter’s voice had floated out of the entryway behind them over Lily’s watery laugh.
So Lily has already met Mr. Potter. Sort of. And Mrs. Potter (“Call me, Euphemia, dear”) has been very gracious, even in the face of Lily’s nerves. And tears (Lily thinks she may never live down the embarrassment). She served Lily tea and biscuits, asked her all sorts of questions, and generally made her feel comfortable and at home.
Things are really going very well (aside from those first two minutes, obviously) until the subject of the wedding comes up. Mrs. Potter asks where Lily is thinking she’d like to have the ceremony, and Lily promptly panics again.
“Dearest, it’s alright if you don’t have the answer right now. There are plenty of options, and enough time to do a little research and pick one of them.”
“Research?” Lily blinks at Mrs. Potter in slight confusion.
“My son might have mentioned your studious habits once or one hundred times over the years. It seems to me that someone so predisposed to studying would like to research her options. I certainly have the resources here for you to do so.”
“You mean I get a choice?”
“Of course you do, dear. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Well...” Lily pauses to gather her thoughts. “I’m Muggleborn you know.” Mrs. Potter nods. “So I don’t know a whole lot about wizarding weddings. I barely know much about Muggle weddings, to be honest. And James is a Pureblood, of some standing I’ve been led to believe, and I’ve done some research and I was feeling better about things last night because I made this list” she pulls a list from her pocket and waves it about a bit, “and I highlighted line items based on my assumptions regarding importance but I’m not really sure how much tradition dictates things in families like yours or whether I really get to choose anything at all and I’m just so nervous about trying to figure all this out and-”
“Lily, Lily!” Mrs. Potter reaches out with one slender, bejeweled hand and touches Lily’s arm gently. “Breathe, child.”
Lily takes a single deep breath. And another. One more.
Mrs. Potter smiles gently. “We don’t stand much on all that ceremony here. We are, according to those who put stock in such things, a rather old and influential family, yes. But Lily, darling, we’re just people. And we don’t care much for all that ‘standing’ nonsense. Mr. Potter and I had a small ceremony in the backyard of this very house when we married. We invited a total of twenty people. There were a number of very miffed people after that, I can tell you, including Mr. Potter’s grandmother because she did care very much about standing. But we were happy with our decision and our wedding was lovely. Whatever it is you want to do, my darling girl, I will help you do it. You have as many or as few choices in this as you want.”
“But what if I get something wrong? I don’t want to miss something, or mess up an important tradition, or-”
“That’s what you have me for, dear. I dare say I have some experience in these things.” Mrs. Potter’s smile is gentle and lovely.
Lily tries her best to smile back, but she suspects it’s rather wavery. Mrs. Potter’s expression creases slightly with worry.
“Lily, do you love my son?”
“More than anything,” Lily answers without hesitation.
“Then it will be fine. At the end of the day, all that matters is that you’re married. The rest is just window dressing. Isn’t that right?”
Lily nods. “Right.”
“Good.” The hand on Lily’s arm pats her twice and then turns palm up in front of Lily’s nose. “Now let me see that list of yours.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lily is sipping her third-or is it her fourth?-cup of tea of the afternoon. Over the rim of her cup, she shoots an amused glance in James’s direction. James grins unabashedly.
“I’m sure Lily has no desire to be dragged down into that dungeon you use as a work room and-”
“Dungeon! How dare you, madam!”
“It is dark and cold and cobwebby, Fleamont. All it needs is a few bars on the windows and a pair of thick cuffs-”
“It is a perfectly comfortable work space, both in regards to temperature and lighting.”
“It is freezing-”
“Most potions require a cooler base temperature for accurate outcomes! You know this!”
“-and it is dark-”
“Psh. Only if one is losing one’s eyesight.”
“-and it is damp.”
“How dare you!”
“I swear I saw a little rivulet of water trailing down the wall just last week.”
“By Merlin’s beard, Euphemia!” Fleamont Potter leaps from his seat and runs wrinkled hands through his wildly unkempt hair. Lily watches in fascination as he rants and paces, adamantly defending the standard of care with which he keeps the work room where, Lily surmises, he brews potions. Euphemia also watches him, a tiny gleeful smile hidden behind her tea cup, clearly enjoying her husband’s passionate rebuttal.
Lily is both baffled and bemused. She has never seen another couple banter and tease in this way. If she didn’t know any better...well, if she didn’t know any better, she’d call it flirting.
Do married couples flirt? Lily is fairly certain she’s never seen her parents do so. Her parents certainly love each other, but it is much quieter than this, whatever this is.
“The Potionarium is perfection, is what it is!” Mr. Potter declares, wagging a finger in his wife’s direction.
“The Potionarium?!” James crows, interrupting his father’s tirade.
“Now, don’t you start,” Mr. Potter says, narrowing his eyes in his son’s direction. “A room of such grand design, of such glorious purpose, deserves an equally grand and glorious name. It’s taken me ages to come up with one-a”
“But ‘Potionarium,’ Dad?”
“I’ll not hear another word about it from you, my boy. I realize we’ve pampered you horribly over the course of your young life, but there are lines even you cannot cross without consequences. “
James bites his lip to keep himself from cackling out loud. His face is turning red with the effort, though, so he is failing rather badly at hiding his reaction.
It is wonderful, Lily decides. Whatever this is, this flirting, teasing, joyful thing, it is wonderful. Lily looks at James, and she looks at his parents, and she sees what could be-what will be-for her and for James. She sees it so clearly as she watches James’s elderly parents, with their wrinkled skin and age spots and their gray and silver hair. She watches them together, flirting and in love even after all the long years of their marriage, and she watches them with James, who they’ve raised to be strong and bold and kind and thoughtful, and she can see it-she can see the life she and James will build, the joy and love they will share, with each other and with their children.
Her children will never know the pain of family rejection. They will never know the sinking, sick feeling in the pit of their stomachs when they realize a sister or brother hates them simply for being who they are.
Her children, James’s children, will get to grow up in a house like this, full of laughter and teasing and respect and support, all built on a foundation of love so strong and beautiful it is practically tangible.
Lily watches the Potter family love each other, and she can see it, stretching out towards her, enfolding her, carrying her with it. She can see the life she will have and it is wonderful.
James loses the battle against his laughter and cackles wildly. His father makes a snarky comment about the lack of respect in this family and James falls out of his chair. He is curled on the floor, tears streaming from his eyes, clutching at his ribs and laughing hysterically. Mrs. Potter extends one hand to her husband and tells him that even if no one respects him, she will still love him. Mr. Potter takes her hand and kisses her knuckles as he sits beside her.
“Of course you will, darling,” he says, tucking her hand into his elbow. “I never doubted it for a moment.”
Lily watches them and smiles.
It’s going to be wonderful.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“So,” James says as he helps her into her coat at the end of the afternoon. “Feeling better?”
Lily smiles at him as she tugs her hair free from her collar and wraps her scarf around her neck. “Much. Your parents are marvelous, James. And your mum gave me this book,” she holds up a well-worn copy of Pomp and Circumstance of Wizarding Weddings, a self-updating guide, “and she’s offered to help with the wedding.”
James grins as he opens the front door and motions for Lily to precede him through with a gentle hand to the small of her back. “The two of you are going to be inseparable now aren’t you?”
Lily grins. “She wants to have weekly tea, just us girls.”
James gently pokes the tip of Lily’s nose. “I told you this was a good idea.”
“Hail the all knowing James Potter!” Lily cries, lifting both hands overhead.
“That’s right, you snarky wench,” James teases, taking her hand and leading her toward the Apparition point. “Maybe next time you’ll skip the nerves and just follow my advice.”
Lily snorts. “Not likely, Potter. Following you blindly is generally a bad idea.”
“You’re lack of faith in my cunning mind is astounding,” James tells her wryly.
“Oh, I have plenty of faith in your cunning mind,” Lily says with a laugh. “It’s your common sense I have doubts about.”
James pretends offense. “You’re very lucky I love you,” he tells her with a playful growl, tugging her against him as they reach the Apparition point.
“Mmmm. I know.” Lily smiles, looping her arms around James waist.
James laughs, secures her against him, and Apparates them away to the gates of Hogwarts.