zelda

The others back home tended to believe humans were foolish, but Lily found them quite charming. Her vantage point allowed her the perfect view of the boys—the Marauders, as they called themselves. The tree branch directly above them was in no way comfortable, but it allowed her the necessary discretion.

“You won’t get away with that one!” shouted one of them, his glasses crooked on his nose—a product of the snowball that had just clocked him in the face. In retaliation, he packed and sent one flying to the shortest of the gang. “Take that, Padfoot!”

Lily couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she watched. She didn’t have loads of experience with humans, but she very much enjoyed what she’d observed thus far. Humans, from Lily’s perspective, were perfect. They wore their emotions so vividly, in a way she couldn’t fathom doing back home.

No visit below felt like long enough. Each time she was sent to the surface on an errand, she took a couple more minutes than the last time—gently pushing the boundaries. Perhaps if she did it slowly and gradually, no one notice. Or they’d notice too late.

When she’d arrived to her spot in the barren branches, the Marauders had been respectably shoveling snow from the front of the estate. They devolved quickly to mischief, which was Lily’s favorite part about watching them. With these four, things hardly could stay serious for long.

She tilted her head and briefly shut her eyes as she listened to them laugh—it was unlike any laughter that could be heard in the heavens. In the clouds, she swore that they laughed like a ticking clock. Perfectly timed and fleeting. There was a joy in the humans’ laughter that Lily only experienced while observing them. It was contagious, really.

Shifting to get a better view, Lily’s weight shifted too far to the right, nearly sending her into the snow. She gasped as she grabbed another branch to steady herself. When she looked below again, the boys were looking up and around.

The only benefit to not being able to rely on her wings to catch her was that their concealment charm also afforded invisibility to the rest of her.

“Did you hear that?” asked one boy, dusty brown hair framing his scarred face. Had they called him Moony? “It sounded like a girl.”

“Gone so long without a girlfriend that you’re imagining one now, are you?” teased the fourth of the group. Wormtail, she thought she remembered.

“I think it was just the wind,” reasoned glasses boy. Prongs? Moony gazed up through the branches like he didn’t quite believe his friend. Surely he couldn’t see her, though. After a few agonizing seconds, he shook his head and kicked some snow at the others.

She let out the breath she was holding and leaned back against the tree. Maybe next time she’d reveal herself. On purpose, at least.

Lily decided to take some extra extra time as she watched them. She’d only watched this group of boys a few times, and yet, she frequently longed to be near them. She was rather disappointed when they got cold and made for the gate.

“I’d better get home, it’s nearly supper,” said Moony, waving goodbye to the others as they scurried toward the manor. Walking back the other direction, he stopped almost directly below her. He lifted his head towards Lily, and she could almost believe he was looking at her. “You should join us sometime. Whoever you are up there.”