lilium_evansiae | 1 February 1977, Headmaster's Office

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albus dumbledore

1 February 1977, Headmaster's Office

Lily stands in the hallway outside the Headmaster's Office, clutching an envelope and telling herself to stop being ridiculous.

It's just tea.

Of course, it's tea with the Headmaster on the occasion of her seventeenth birthday, but it's still just tea.

Intimidating tea, but tea, none the less.

"Excuse me," Lily says, to the gargoyle in the hallway, holding out the invitation. "I think the Headmaster is expecting me."

There's a moment, and then the gargoyle reveals a moving spiral staircase leading up to Professor Dumbledore's office.

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"A triumph well celebrated."

Dumbledore looks rather as if he approves.

"I did notice that Professor McGonagall's tea the next morning at breakfast was more sugar than liquid."

So, clearly, a long night.

"At least we only have one match left this year, sir?"

With Ravenclaw.

Though it will determine who gets the cup, so if they win that one, it's likely to be quite loud, again.

Dumbledore seems to be thinking the same thing.

"Perhaps the prefects should begin resting up now."

"I'll suggest it, sir.

"Though I'm not sure our coursework will give up much of an opportunity to do so."

Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh years are rather full.

Not that that is a problem.

At least, not for Lily.

Well, not often.

Her grades certainly aren't suffering. Dumbledore has checked.

"Do you enjoy your position as prefect?"

The question is more than just a link in a polite and pleasant conversation.

It's time to start exploring the possibilities for Head Boy and Head Girl for next year. Lily's name is on a very short list.

Lily thinks for a moment before she answers that.

It's not that she doesn't like being a prefect. It's just that she's not sure she'd say she 'enjoys' it, either.

It sounds ... flippant.

It sounds ... Slytherin.

More about the power of the position than the responsibility.

"I'm very proud of having been made a prefect," she says finally. "And I think I do a pretty good job at it."

A thought-out answer.

And it's quite true. Positions of power are rarely a thing of true enjoyment. At least not if you're doing your job properly.

"Your parents must be quite proud."

Lily nods.

"Yes, they are.

"And it's something that's familiar to them, the idea of a prefect, as opposed to most of what I can tell them about here."

Dumbledore nods with a smile.

"Yes. I remember your father's concerns about our.....accreditation, as it were."

Delightful man, Mr. Evans.

"He teaches at a Muggle school," Lily says.

And he makes sure his daughter more or less keeps up with the applicable curriculum, over the summer.

"Yes, I know. Literature."

They haven't had a prolific correspondence, but letters are exchanged from time to time.

Lily nods.

"Yes.

"I'll actually be able to show him what I've been learning for the last six years now. The next time I go home.

"Without the Ministry writing, I mean.

"Not that that has happened very often, sir."

"And what do you have in mind to show him first?"

"I haven't quite decided yet, sir.

"Probably some kind of Charm."

She's rather better at Charms than Transfiguration.

And she can't quite see brewing a Potion in the kitchen.

Dumbledore nods.

"Your parents, I must say, have adjusted quite well to your status as a witch."

It can be an iffy thing -- families of Muggle-born wizards.

"Yeah, I'm lucky," Lily says.

"They think it's wonderful."

"A sign of very good sense."

Not that he's biased.

"So many Muggles are reluctant to believe even the evidence of their own eyes."

"With all due respect, sir," Lily says, after a moment's hesitation, "I don't really think that condition is limited to Muggles."

"Indeed?"

Dumbledore looks interested.

"Would you mind illustrating?"

He's genuinely curious as to what she has to say.

"I'm not sure how to illustrate, exactly, but ... well, I don't think I'd say that I've never met a witch or a wizard who couldn't see what was right in front of them before, or would only see things the way they expected them to be."

Dumbledore nods.

"A human failing, rather that of wizard or Muggle alone," he agrees.

"The pure blood issues, for instance."

Issues with which she is well acquainted, he's certain.

"Yes, sir.

"I'd say that's an area where some willful blindness exists."

It would be the worst kind of hubris to think that the wizarding world was not just as capable of harboring prejudices as the Muggle world was.

Especially given what is happening in the wizarding world right now.

Under all of their noses.

"It has waxed and waned, but always been thus, I fear," he sighs.

Long ago...long ago, he himself had even bought into those prejudices. And other things he's not sure he'll ever live down the shame of.

"It is my fondest hope, Miss Evans, that your generation will succeed in giving it a firmer quash than mine did."

"That's the plan, sir."

Lily isn't sure how just yet.

But that's the plan.

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth curl up, alleviating a bit of the solemnity.

"You. And Mr. Potter. Mr. Black. Miss Byrne. Miss McDonald. Mr. Lupin..."

"Our future is in your hands."

The fuller smile is not quite hidden by his tea cup.

"What is it that they say? No pressure?"

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