lilyii:
Lily tutted at the sound of Nadia’s voice. “No need to be so uncouth. Don’t you purebloods normally take etiquette classes? You’d think no one had ever taught you to how to say please and thank you.” Despite her words, her tone of voice remained light, making it clear she was teasing. “Please” and “thank you” were words Lily seldom said herself if she could help it. It was rare that Lily wanted to follow orders, but she was reaching the point in her pregnancy where everyone thought she was too fragile to handle anything, and she hated feeling so useless. It was absolutely infuriating that even bending down caused her discomfort, but at the very least, her magic was somehow stronger than ever. She had no proper explanation for it, but something in her intuition told her it meant that her child would be incredibly powerful, like their mother and father. With the slightest flick of her wand, she was able to send the vial towards Nadia’s hand.
“I wasn’t lurking, by the way.” she corrected. “I was on my daily walk and thought I’d let you know that Teddy’s been asking around for you. You know, he doesn’t ever seem to shut up about you these days. It’s like you’ve got him under your spell. Seduced him with your feminine wiles and your – ah – ineffable charm.” She waggled her eyebrows, a smirk bubbling at her lips.
“Actually, purebloods are taught that we don’t have to say please and thank you to the proletariat, Potter. Right after we learn to use the blood of the innocent to keep us young. Do keep up.” Perhaps the quip would have been less humorous if it weren’t for their circumstances, but as it was the morbidity was oddly appropriate. Nadia Zabini was currently digging up plants in the dirt by their schoolyard Quidditch Pitch while a very pregnant Lily Potter helped her store them; all set to the lovely backdrop of an uprising of the undead. It would be funny if it weren’t so dire.
She didn’t quite smile, but something about her countenance relaxed at the mention of Teddy, while her conscience twinged with something akin to guilt. “I didn’t realize he’d returned for the night.” She hadn’t seen much of him---of anyone---lately, by choice. Burying herself in research kept her head clear of thoughts and people she’d rather forget, but in doing so her relationships had undoubtedly suffered.
She stood, brushing the dirt from her hands onto her robes. “Well, his taste certainly can’t be questioned.” Nadia’s tone was amused with more than a hint of smugness, and playful in a way that had been missing for a while. “Something I have to credit Andromeda with, because no offense, but I’ve seen the way your father dresses. Hopeless.”
