#it's fairly tuney centric though

[seriousbrat]

Falls the Shadow, chapter 8 Read on Ao3

THE DARKEST DAYS, a multi-part, canon-compliant series spanning from 1975-1981, covering the events of the First Wizarding War. Follows Lily, Sev, and the Marauders through their final years at Hogwarts to the end of the war, as friendships are put to the test and the Wizarding World crumbles around them... READ FROM THE BEGINNING

CHAPTER 8: For Better For Worse --------------------------------------------

Vernon stammers. “What— that— you— I mean to say—” Petunia shoots Lily a dirty look and then places a soothing hand on his arm. This seems to rally him. “So, you know a few magic tricks, do you? Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Not especially,” James says, grinning. “That was a fairly bog-standard bit of Transfiguration. Of course, transfiguring inanimate objects into living thing’s always got its complications— it’s not really alive, you see, it’s just the illusion of life. The theory’s a bit murky, but there you are.”

From the looks on their faces he may as well be speaking Greek. Lily has to stifle a laugh.

At that moment the waitress returns bearing a tray loaded with their drinks; these she doles out, setting Petunia’s water on the beer mat that had recently been a butterfly. Petunia pushes it away from her with an expression of distaste.

“How’d you get here, anyway?” Petunia asks Lily. “Did you drive?”

“No,” Lily says, taking a sip of lager. “We Apparated. You know, when you—”

“Car at the mechanic’s, is it?” Vernon interrupts loudly, addressing James. “I suppose you drive some rusty, clapped-out old banger, don’t you?”

“Er,” James says, looking perplexedly at Lily. “What?”

“He’s asking what sort of car you’ve got,” Lily says heavily, sipping at her beer.

“Vernon’s got a Triumph Spitfire,” Petunia says glowingly, as if this is supposed to mean something to them.

“Oh, right— well, I haven’t got a car,” James says, shrugging. “I have got a fairly good racing broom, though, the Nimbus 1001— not the latest model anymore, but sound, wouldn’t change it for the world— does nought to seventy in under ten seconds.” He takes a swig of beer, oblivious to Vernon swelling with rage, a vein pulsing in his temple— from the look on his face Lily surmises that his Triumph Spitfire doesn’t do anything of the sort.