Evans Home, August 1976

[lilium_evansiae]

It's a solidly good production -- simple sets, straightforward production, nothing terribly innovative (but also nothing innovative for the sake of being innovative), an amazing Oberon balancing a slightly weak Bottom.

Adrian, as is his habit, keeps up something that is part review, part commentary, and part classroom lecture on the way home. Lily and Geraldine have both heard most of what he has to say about A Midsummer Night's Dream before, but it's new for Albus. And maybe it's the new audience, but Adrian seems even more animated than Lily thinks he usually is, and by the time they're back home, Albus and Adrian are deep in conversation and promptly vanish into the back room that essentially serves as Adrian's study.

Lily looks in on them three times, over the next couple hours. An increasing number of books seems to have been pulled from the shelves all around the room each time. Lily's not completely certain either of them even noticed her in the doorway.

"I do hope your father isn't boring that young man," Geraldine says, as Lily helps her get dinner together. It hasn't quite been discussed, but it seems to have been assumed that Albus will stay for dinner. (And at this rate, Albus may wind up having to sleep on the disreputable-looking but very comfortable couch in Adrian's study, because it's going to get way too late to pretend he's off to catch a train.)

"I don't think he's bored at all, really," Lily says. "And Dad's enjoying himself, so we'll let them talk. At least until dinner's ready."

"And possibly all through dinner, too," says her mother, with a slightly wry twist to her tone that would sound not unfamiliar to almost anyone who has talked to her younger daughter.

Geraldine is, of course, right. The conversation stays quite literary all through dinner and pudding, and Albus will have to pretend to contact relatives to tell them that he'll be staying with the Evanses tonight, because there's no way he'd start a train trip at this hour. Adrian might have gone right on talking, too, except that Geraldine insists that he help with the washing up. "That young man did not come to visit you, darling," Geraldine tells him, as Lily and Albus leave the kitchen. (Even though Albus kind of did.)

"I'm going to get us some tea," Lily says, "but if you go back in there, we'll never get away. Up the stairs, last door on the right, and I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

Lily vanishes back into the kitchen, leaving Albus on his own in his great-grandparents' house.

Comments

[honourbyname]

Albus wanders up the stairs, taking care to follow Lily's directions.

Because - well, he does not want to run into any embarrassing situations involving mistaken rooms and looking as though he'd been snooping around.

Today had been brilliant.

Absolutely, absolutely brilliant.

He'd learned a lot from Lily's dad - his great-granddad, blimey - about Shakespeare and the play itself, and about all the books in his library (which are waiting for him in his office) and just -

It all feels a bit like a dream.

No one would believe him.

He isn't even sure he'd want to tell anyone about it, anyway. It's like a cosy, comforting secret he can keep to himself.

[lilium_evansiae]

It's taking Lily slightly longer than she expected to get the tea.

(This is because her father is off on his oft-repeated lament over the omissions in the subjects taught at her school.)

Maybe give her another couple of minutes, Albus, would you?

[honourbyname]

A few minutes can definitely be arranged.

By now, Albus, who has made his way to Lily's room, is glancing around her room, fingers laced behind his back.

He notes the books stacked in a pile by her bed, and the books packed into her shelf, and then there's her desk which have got a couple of pictures.

He glances at them ... before his eyes go to a small stack of letters.

[lilium_evansiae]

The pictures are probably about what he'd expect -- Lily and her parents (Muggle photography), friends from Hogwarts (Wizard photography). There's nothing to indicate any were removed at the start of the summer, though some were.

The letters that have caught Albus' attention are from various Hogwarts acquaintances. There's a postcard (picture-side down), on the top of the pile.

[honourbyname]

Albus knows it's rude to read someone else's mail.

Except.

Well.

It's right there, isn't it?

And it's a postcard with the text all publicly displayed.

A quick glance isn't a crime.

And his curiousity is burning a hole in his brain.

It's the sender that has him a little curious. There's only one JP he knows, and that's -

But - oh.

His heart suddenly starts to race with excitement.

This is literally what people dream about, isn't it? Taking trips back in time and discovering things about your family, particularly family you've never met in the present.

[lilium_evansiae]

And finding the first actual record of the relationship between your grandparents, a postcard that is otherwise completely unmarkable except in its number of stamps.

"Sorry," Lily says, from the doorway. "That took a bit longer than I thought it would.

"Tea?" she adds, holding one of the mugs out to him.

If she's aware that he's been reading her mail (more or less), she doesn't seem bothered by the fact.

[honourbyname]

Albus (guiltily) turns back to Lily, accepting the mug of tea with a murmured, "Thanks."

He takes another step away from her desk and goes for a more nonchalant attitude. But it wasn't as though he hadn't been obviously looking at the postcard settled there.

"Er - your room's brilliant."

[lilium_evansiae]

"You think so?"

Lily looks around.

It's a small room with slightly faded wallpaper, shelves wherever there's wallspace for them, all the furniture three inches too close to all the other furniture, a wardrobe she and her mum have been meaning to repaint for three summers now, and a vaguely general air of not being occupied most of the year.

Lily loves it.

"Thanks."

She settles down on the bed, leaving the desk chair for Albus.

"When I was little, Petunia and I shared the room next door, and this was Dad's room for his books and his desk and all. But it was getting hard to walk in here, with all his books, and Petunia and I kind of, er, outgrew sharing a room, so ... I got this one, and Dad took over the room downstairs."

[honourbyname]

Albus takes the desk chair as well as a sip of his tea.

Not simultaneously, as that would have been a bit complicated, and potentially cause messes.

"My dad knew the possibility of my brother and I sharing a room at any point would've been a bad one," Albus says, smiling a little over the rim of his mug, "so we'd always had separate ones."

[lilium_evansiae]

"Yeah?

"What was going to happen if you did?"

[honourbyname]

"A lot of - um. Fighting, probably."

Albus laughs.

"James and I don't always get along."

[lilium_evansiae]

"That's better than I'm doing, then. Tuney and I don't ever get along."

They used to.

But not in recent years.

Lily grins, suddenly.

"You know, Mum has been worried all afternoon that Dad was boring you to tears, and you were just to polite to say anything about it."

[honourbyname]

Immediately, Albus shakes his head.

"Oh, no. Definitely not." There's a brightness in his eyes. "I think your dad's brilliant. He knows so much; I've learned more tonight about Muggle literature than I have in my whole life. And his - your - library is amazing."

[lilium_evansiae]

"Oh, the library is Dad's. The rest of us just visit it.

"And if I'd thought there were even a chance you were bored, I'd have dreamed up some way to rescue you."

But she looked in. He didn't look bored.

"He did that thing, didn't he? Where he starts talking and then something reminds him of something else and you have to follow him around the room and he's pulling books off the shelves and quoting things and handing them to you and before you know it, you're holding nine books and neither of you can quite remember the original question?"

[honourbyname]

Albus laughs.

"Yeah," he says. "And d'you know, I had this thought, while he was doing that. I was thinking, if I really did end up teaching, like I think I really want to, I'd want to be like your dad. He made literature seem so ... exciting."

[lilium_evansiae]

Lily smiles.

"He'd be really pleased to hear that. He loves what he does. Even though I don't think most of his students come close to appreciating him. He says it's worth it for the ones who do.

"And you could definitely do worse, as role models go."

There's Professor Binns, for one.

[honourbyname]

"Yeah, that's true. Honestly, I wish we had professors like your dad at Hogwarts. Not to say they're bad, but - it's really cool to see someone so enthusiastic about what they love to teach. You know?"

[lilium_evansiae]

"I suppose Professor Sprout has retired by your day.

"She can get pretty enthusiastic about Herbology.

"But, yeah, I know."

[honourbyname]

"Yeah. Um. It's Professor Longbottom who teaches Herbology now," Albus explains, smiling. "He's actually a family friend. And - um. Well, he's a brilliant professor too. I feel bad for forgetting about him, now."

[lilium_evansiae]

"Maybe there's something about Herbology that attacts good teachers.

"Like flowers and bumblebees."

[honourbyname]

Albus grins.

"Yeah, maybe. It's those screaming Mandrakes."

[lilium_evansiae]

"You probably have to love it, if you're going to teach a subject that requires you to wear fluffy pink earmuffs in class."

Or you'd do something else.

"You've had a good day, then?"

[honourbyname]

Albus lets out a laugh.



"It's one of the best I've had," he replies, happily. "Thank you for inviting me here, Lily."

[lilium_evansiae]

"You're welcome. I'm glad you were there and it all worked out.

"Midsummer is one of my favorites.

"One of the many things I grew up thinking everyone heard as a bedtime story. Only to learn that, no, most people don't hear Shakespeare instead of Mother Goose."

[honourbyname]

"Mother Goose?"

Albus raises an eyebrow, curious.