Chapter Text
On the morning of August first, 1966, in a small town in Mayo, Ireland, Marigold Gráinne Evans was born at 6 pounds and 3 ounces. With watery blue eyes and short tufts of light brown hair, she easily enamoured her family.
After the family’s move to Cokeworth, England, in 1969, Petunia (accompanied by Lily and her new, insufferable friend, Severus) brought her baby sister to a nearby pond. The oldest and youngest Evans’ fed the ducks whilst their other sibling played with Severus.
The two nine-year-olds were throwing a ball back and forth whilst Severus was explaining the Wizarding World, something about a ‘Hogwash’ or something.
As the two tossed the ball around, a particularly (and uncharacteristically) strong pass from Severus caused Lily to trip over a rock in an attempt to catch it.
Petunia responded to her sister’s yelp of surprise quickly and only relented when the redhead insisted that she was okay.
The older sister turned back to Marigold, only to find her much closer to the pond’s edge than what was safe, trying to pet a duck. Petunia ran to prevent her from falling in, but she was too late.
When Marigold fell in and didn’t float back up immediately, Petunia and Lily jumped in, looking for their sister. When they couldn’t find her, the two burst into tears.
They couldn’t stop until they heard a tiny giggle behind them. Soaked and miserable, the girls turned around and saw their sister laughing while hugging and petting a duck, whilst ducklings ran around her, nuzzling her leg occasionally. The duck didn’t look pleased but didn’t seem to mind the toddler’s affection. What was even odder, Marigold didn’t have a single drop of water on her.
The sisters looked at her bewildered. Severus (who had just stared at the girls, unsure what to do during their panic) nodded and turned to Lily, “It seems there’s another witch in your family, Lily.”
When Marigold was five years old, her sister left for Hogwarts for the first time.
“No,” she wailed as the family said their goodbyes to Lily on the platform, “Don’t go!”
Lily smiled at her, embracing her in a hug, “I’ll write to you every week, Goldie, by the end of the year you’ll be so good at reading and your teacher will be so very impressed!”
Marigold sniffed as her tears started to dry, “Really? Can I write to you, too?”
Lily nodded, “I want to hear about everything that’s going on at home! I’ll send an owl every week and all you have to do is ask it to wait for you to write back and maybe feed it some bacon. Can you do that, Goldie?”
She nodded and pulled Lily back into a hug before she was pulled away by an impatient Severus, “Come on, Lily, we’ll miss the train!”
True to her word Lily sent an owl every week, and Marigold wrote back using refill pad paper and crayons; at first, they were illegible. Her parents provided a transcript of what Marigold had allegedly written. Still, after a few weeks of non-stop writing, the girl’s letters were easier to read, despite the sloppiness that appears to be a trait in five-year-olds; by Christmas, her parents didn’t need to send a transcript.
“Watcha reading, that’s got you so happy, Evans?” an ever-present annoying voice asked.
She groaned, “It’s none of your business Potter, but if you have to know, it’s a letter from my sister.”
Potter was a rather messy young boy; his Gryffindor tie was always undone, a crooked smile always on his face, his unruly black hair always stuck up in the oddest of places (despite his father inventing the Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion, he could never seem to be able to use it) and he always seemed to have ink on his brown skin from waving his hands (and by extension - his quill) around when he talks. And despite being complete opposites, Potter had decided that Lily Evans was the only one for him for some unknown reason!
The boy in question frowned in confusion, “The tall muggle one, who looked like she swallowed a lemon when she saw you at Christmas time? I wouldn’t have thought you’d be that happy to hear from her.”
Lily rolled her eyes, “No my other sister, Goldie. She’s also a witch but she won’t be coming to Hogwarts for a few years. She’s rather upset about it, but she thinks it’s brilliant that she can send owls to me.”
Potter looked at the letter and scrunched his eyebrows, “What kind of ink and parchment is that?!”
Lily almost laughed at the boy’s incredulous face, “It’s called a crayon. Muggle children use it to draw and colour; you can get them in almost every colour. The paper is just from a refill pad. Maybe you should take up Muggle Studies in third-year if interested.”
It was close to the end of the year at Hogwarts, and Marigold was getting restless. She received letters every week from Lily telling her all about Hogwarts, her school work and even about the silly boys in her year who played jokes on everyone, but in her last letter, her sister told her that because the year was ending and exams were so near, she couldn’t send any more letters.
Since Christmas, she had taken to calling her sister ‘My Lily’, telling anyone who would listen that she wanted her Lily.
“Mummy, when is my Lily coming home?” she would ask her mother.
Her mother would laugh and say, “Very soon, Goldie, dear.”
The day Lily was due home, Goldie was all but pulling her mum out the door and into the car.
At Platform 9 ¾, as Goldie waited for her sister, her mother was pulled into a conversation with another parent.
“What year is your one in, dear?”
Her mother smiled, “First year. We’re ever so proud of our Lily, she’s the first witch in our family, Goldie here is the second but she won’t be going to Hogwarts for many years, yet. Lily’s been telling us all the wonderful things about it, apparently, the stairs move and there are talking portraits! She’s in the Griffin house. Oh, where are my manners, Rose Evans. “
The lady smiled, “Euphemia Potter, my son James is also a first year in Gryffindor, perhaps they’re friends.”
Marigold smiled brilliantly, recognising the name ‘James Potter’ from her sister’s letters, “You’re the Silly Boys mummy, aren’t you? My Lily writes to me all the time about Hogwarts and she always tells me about the Silly Boy! She says that he’s ‘imfurbibating’, but I don’t know what that means,” she said, whispering the last part.
Euphemia laughed loudly, tears coming to her eyes, “I think the word you mean is ‘infuriating’, and it is a very fitting way to describe my James. It means is he’s quite bothersome sometimes.”
Suddenly, the train pulled into the platform, and crowds of young Hogwarts students poured out of the train, saying goodbyes to their friends.
Marigold’s eyes were immediately drawn to long red hair. She quickly let go of her mother’s hand and ran towards it, despite her mother’s protests, “My Lily! My Lily!”
She stopped in front of the girl and hugged her, “My Lily! I missed you,” she noticed the group of boys who were apparently in mid-conversation with Lily, “Oh! Are you Lily’s friends?”
The one with messy dark hair smiled, “Why yes, of course! My name is James,” he pointed to the other boys, “That’s Sirius, Remus and Peter.”
Her smile widened, “You’re the Silly Boy,” she barely noticed Lily’s hug getting slightly tighter and her eyes widening barely noticeably, “My mummy is talking to your mummy, over there,” she pointed, “My name is Marigold, but you can call me Goldie, but only if you’re friends with my Lily!”
James smiled, “Okay, Goldie. I heard from Lily that you were quite excited to start Hogwarts when you turn eleven.”
She nodded, “That’s right! I’m going to be a Gryffindor and I’m going to learn magic, like my Lily!”
“Well, every self-respecting Gryffindor has a collection of chocolate frog cards. It just so happens I have an extra box,” he pulled a box from his robe pocket and handed it to her.
Marigold looked at the Potter boy with amazement, “Thank you!”
She left as fast as she came, running at top speed towards her mother, “Mummy! Mummy! Look what the Silly Boy gave me!”
The eleven-year-old gave Lily a shit-eating grin, “Silly Boy?”
“Oh shut it, Potter.”
The four boys split their sides laughing as she stormed off.