Title: The Game
Author: Nesma
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. Inspiration for the game came from the novel Beaufort by Ron Leshem. Which, I also do not own.
A/N: I swear, this is the last time I'm posting this week. But, if you all can think good vibes my way I would be incredibly grateful. So, enjoy the story.
It was a sick, twisted, and addictive game that Sirius came up with one day at the Orders' headquarters. It was after a particularly rough battle, it was the battle that Fabian and Gideon Prewett died. It was one of those battles, in which every single person in the Order was fighting. And it still made no difference that the entire Order fought rather than a handful. It was one of those battles in which they would have all lost their lives if they had stayed long enough to collect the bodies.
And the Marauders, Lily, and Emmeline were all sitting around the long table, each staring down at the chipped table and breathing heavily. Marlene was at St. Mungo's, getting treated for severe head wounds. Alice and Frank had excused themselves quietly, leaving in a haze as if the news hadn't hit them quite yet.
Emmeline kept letting tears gather in her hands, but the girl was stubborn and kept looking up at the ceiling, shaking her head as she did her best to prevent the tears from falling. Emmeline was the type of person who despised to cry in front of others.
Lily let out a sob every once in a while, but was quick to cover her mouth and hunch forward; the blood was long dried on her hands and flecks of it came off whenever she broke out in tears. It was unclear if it were hers or someone else's.
Sirius kept slamming his fist on the table, as if breaking the table in half would bring the twins back.
Peter and Remus sat quietly, trying desperately to will them back. Both had religious parents and both were repeating the lines of prayer in their heads.
James fidgeted in his chair as if he was sitting through a long lesson, they all knew he wanted to walk around but it was just all too much to even move. As if getting used to the world without the twins, to move around in it, to adjust to it all would be a betrayal.
Then, Sirius said in a morose tone, 'Fabian can't see us grow ugly anymore.' And even Peter chimed in afterwards, 'He did use to say we'll never be as handsome as we are today.'
Remus asked Sirius if that was meant to make them feel better, because it didn't. It felt like a slap in the face. And Sirius sighed heavily, pushing his long hair back as he angrily stared at the cracked table in front of him.
'Fabian won't be able to play quidditch anymore.' Sirius said bitterly, ignoring Remus, crossing his arms on the table and hunching over.
'Fabian won't be able to get married.' Emmeline said quickly, her eyes staring down at the dirty table, her nostrils flaring.
'Fabian won't be able to have children.' Lily chimed in, her eyes rimmed red as she sniffed.
'Fabian won't be able to date girls anymore.' James said, throwing an arm around Lily but she was quick to shove it off. She was never one to cuddle after death had paid them a visit.
'Fabian won't be able to finish his chocolate cake.' Peter said, frowning as the others looked over their shoulder to the kitchen. The very kitchen in which Fabian had thrust his chocolate cake in the fridge right before he apperated into the battle scene.
Remus leaned back on his chair, deciding to play along. 'Fabian won't be able to wring our necks when we throw it out.' Because after all, who was going to eat a dead man's cake?
And it went on and on for hours. As they all went around in a bitter circle about all the things that Fabian couldn't do anymore.
Everyone played the game. You were a fool if you didn't know the rules and you were a complete prat if you refused to play. Everyone had to play the game.
The game was played when a friend was killed. The name was tossed into the air and whoever's there at the time had to come up with something he or she can't do anymore. The game can take hours to play. And it could start at any time.
While playing chess, just as the pawn was about to make the first move. Or late at night, when your partner is hugging in a tight embrace. Or when you're back at the safe house, secured and protected, just escaped death for what felt like the millionth time that month, and the last thing you would want to play is the game and then someone says, "Fabian can't…" and you have to, everyone has to, reel off some association. That's the rule and you can't repeat anything that has already been stated.
It was their game and Remus never imagined the day he'd be throwing his best mates' names in the air.
Remus was tired, his feet ached and there was a shooting pain in his shins with every step he took. He hardly had the energy to walk up the flight of stairs, but the comfort of his bed was providing all the motivation he needed, though, he almost wished he had stayed a few extra hours at work when he found Emmeline Vance outside his door.
She was sitting on the ground, a bottle of firewhiskey in plain sight by her side, as if it were a water bottle. She was leaning back against the door, her head bowed slightly forward as she stared intently on her lap. Her hair was thrown into a messy ponytail, and even from far away Remus could see that her roots were shining with grease.
Remus heaved a sigh, walking forward as her head shot up. Her blue eyes blinked several times, trying hard to focus on a target, and her head swayed slightly. She sniffed once as Remus approached her slowly, his keys clanking against one another.
"Emmeline-"
"James and Lily won't get to see Harry grow up." She said quickly, her eyes were rimmed red and her nostrils started to flare uncontrollably as the tears welled in her eyes. She flinched a few times, quickly dragging a sleeve underneath her nose as a grimace came across her face, her lips trembling.
Remus arm dropped, the keys nearly slipping out of his grasp. He licked his lips as he stared around at his pathetic apartment complex. Dim lighting, cracks in the wall, his door had deep scratches, and someone clearly tried to paint over their own damage on the door.
"James won't see Harry fly on his first real broom." Remus said quietly. Remus snuck a glance at Emmeline, a tear escaped quietly and without a trace as she quickly grabbed her bag and bottle, bowing her head down. He noticed that her arm brushed close to her face but knew better than to give her a hug.
The last time he saw Emmeline was at the Potter's funeral. In which, she had broken down in a million pieces at the back of the church. And nearly reduced Remus into a fine dust with a jab of her wand when he tried to put a hand on her back. While Remus survived, the pew in front of them didn't.
Emmeline was strong and could make any Death Eater shake in their boots. But Emmeline was delicate, she was like Remus in the sense that they both loss so much. In the span of two weeks, they had lost Marlene, Lily, James, Peter, Sirius, Alice, and Frank. They won the war but the things they had to do to survive haunted them at night. And the people they lost will never leave them alone.
Emmeline stood up quickly and moved to the side. Remus walked towards the door, jamming his key in and strutting straight into his place. He was quick to shove off his coat and hang it on one of the falling hooks. As he stepped further into his apartment, He heard Emmeline follow him in, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Remus gestured to the couch, another sniffle from Emmeline as she walked towards the couch, sitting cross legged on it as the bottle was cradled within her arms.
"Lily won't see Harry get his letter from Hogwarts." She said, as Remus sat next to her; his legs stretched out on the battered coffee table. He immediately reached over to the bottle and was immensely thankful that Emmeline relinquished her control. He was quick to take the top off and gulp as much as he could before the burning was too much.
He figured he owed it to them to play the game. And he didn't know if he was more disgusted with the fact that he was playing the game or if the fact that the only players left were Emmeline and him.
Lily will never make up with her sister. She'll never be able to know what it's like to go over to Petunia's house, gloating that they won the war and there is nothing more to fear. Lily will never know what it is like to reconcile with her sister. That was all Lily ever wanted to do after the war, was stroll into her sister's house with no fear and to make up for all the fights. Start fresh. Lily won't know what it's like to 'start fresh' with her older sister. She will never know that her sister was given the task to raise Harry. Lily will never know what new hell her sister will force upon Harry. She'll never know that Petunia didn't even show up to the funeral.
Lily and James will never know what songs they played at the funeral. Hymns from Lily's childhood that she loved so much. It became their song. Everyone had a song played at their funeral. They will never know that Remus and Emmeline wondered into churches, hoping to hear their song every Sunday. And become rapidly disappointed with every new church that they couldn't hear the song of Lily and James.
They will never know that two of their best friends couldn't attend the funeral. They will never know that Sirius Black was sitting in a holding cell as the first mourners trickled into the Church. They will never know that Peter's finger was being placed into a small box for his mother at the same time. They will never know that Sirius was thrown into Azkaban. They will never know that he never saw the living daylights of the courtroom. They will never know that he committed the most heinous crime at all. They will never know that he was the double spy. They will never know that they should have never trusted him with their lives. They will never know that Sirius killed Peter. They will never know that Peter died for them, died standing up for them and everything he believed in the Order. They will never know the true bravery of Peter Pettigrew and the cowardice of Sirius Black. And for that, they were all thankful that death took the Potters away rather than live long enough to realize the betrayal that was committed.
Lily will never get to potty train Harry. She'll never what it's like to have a full conversation with a toddler. She'll never get to see him grow over night. She'll never know what it's like to have Harry learn something new every day. Lily will never know what children songs Harry will like best and which one to sing to calm him down.
James will never know what it's like to listen to children's records on repeat, falling asleep on the sofa as Harry sits bewitched by the record player. James will never know how loud a child can cry the very microsecond when the music stops playing and how utterly frustrating it is to reposition the needle with a screaming child.
They will never know if Harry's eyes remain the emerald green that he was born with. They'll never know if it morphs into the hazel eyes like his father. They'll never know if he takes after his father or mother. They'll never know if his black hair suddenly starts to turn a dark red like his mother. They'll never know what Harry truly looks like as he grows older.
They will never know what it's like to have Harry come crying into their room after a nightmare. They'll never know what it's like to have a child sleep in between them after having to calm him down. They'll never understand how the child in the middle manages to steal all the sheets and burrows deep into the bed. They'll never get to complain to one another once Harry is out of earshot about how annoying it is to have a child take over their bed. And they'll never get to reminisce, and even miss, the days that a small Harry would crawl into their bed.
Lily will never know what it's like to have her child develop a sneeze. And then a fever. And then a fever that rages out of control. She'll never know what it's like to browse through medical books, just out of curiosity, to see what's wrong with Harry. She'll never understand the utter panic and fear that infects her heart the moment she realizes that her baby has caught a deadly disease.
James will never get the opportunity to calm Lily down after such a thought. He'll never know what it's like to be convinced by his temporarily disillusioned wife that their child is dying. He'll never get the experience of flooing his family over to St. Mungo's, yelling for the nearest healer, and thrusting his baby boy in the healer's bewildered arms.
They'll never know what it's like to be immediately soothed by the tired healer that their child is fine. That their child needs to take a potion over the next week to recover. They'll never know what it's like to pretend in front of the healer that they obviously knew their child wasn't dying. They'll never know what it's like to apologize profusely to a healer after shouting at them hoarse about their, supposedly, dying child. They'll never know what colour of lollipop Harry will pick from the bowl after the entire ordeal.
James will never get him the real broomstick that he was pining to get him. James will never teach him how to fly. James will never get to teach his son the joys of quidditch. James will never know what it's like to dream that your kid will be a world class chaser, only to discover that his child was meant to be a seeker. James will never know of the temporary heartache that would come that his child wasn't morphing into his exact duplicate. He'll never understand the pure joy of discovering that your child doesn't have to be your duplicate. He'll never be able to cheer Harry during his game and he'll never be able to practice the game with him. James will never be able to take him to quidditch match, and he'll never get to purchase Harry the jerseys or the robes of their favorite team. James and Harry will never get the opportunity to drive Lily mad with their talk of quidditch.
Lily and James will never see Harry show his first bit of magic. They'll never see him get his Hogwarts letter. They will never get to take Harry into Diagon Alley to purchase his first wand. They'll never be able to witness the moment of when his eyes' light up once he found the wand. They'll never be able to see him browse through owls to find the one he wants. They'll never be able to take him out to ice cream afterwards. They'll never know what flavor of ice cream Harry even likes.
Lily will never be able to send Harry letters to Hogwarts. The worrisome mother type letters. Or even the scolding letter types. She'll never be able to send the care packages that were stuffed to the brim with candies and chocolates and clothes that he's forgotten at home. Lily will never get the letters about his new friends nor what house he was sorted in. Lily will never get to pester him about inviting friends over during the holidays.
James will never get to have 'the talk' with Harry. He'll never know the supreme awkwardness of trying to explain to your kid, who clearly doesn't even want to be in the same room as you, about the 'wonders' of sex. James will never have the moment in which he appreciated his own parents' braveness for having such a talk with him. He'll never know what it's like to leave Harry's room mortified only to have Lily laugh at him, only to silence her when he reminds her that if the next one is a girl then she'll have the talk with her.
They'll never have another child. They'll never have the second kid, the kid after the war, that they so wished for. They'll never see if they had another boy or girl. They'll never know what it's like to have a kid during peacetime. They'll only ever know the utter fear and horror of having a kid in the middle of the bloodbath. They'll never know the serenity of having a child during peace time.
They'll never know that Harry saved them all. That their child cheated death. They'll never know the celebrations that took place around the country, the number of glasses raised in their names. How everyone in the wizarding world knew their names. They will never know that there is a lightening bolt scar on Harry's forehead, and that the whole world knew this one fact about him and will continually ogle at his forehead while the rest of him is merely a prop for the scar.
Lily will never know what it's like trying to cover the scar. She'll never get to ward of the pointed stares and the awkward introduction. She'll never have the second opportunity to guard Harry. James will never have the chance to tell his son that it's okay that he has a scar on his forehead, it only adds to his mystique and makes the ladies very interested. And James will never know what it's like to have Lily hit him after saying such a comment. And he'll never know if another joke or a kiss on her cheek would soothe such a comment away.
James will never know that Lily died minutes after him. James will never know that his death merely slowed down the murder of his family; it didn't prevent it. James will never know what it's like to live in a world knowing that his other half is dead. Lily had this opportunity, and brief as it was, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that she had endured such great pains when the wand was turned onto her and she choose to live rather than willingly join James. Lily will never know that her death bought her son a second chance.
James and Lily will never know that it was Hagrid that pulled baby Harry out of the rubble. That Harry was crying, screaming his head off until Harry blundered through the door. James will never know that Hagrid didn't even see his body strewn across in the adjacent room. Lily will never know the strength it took within Hagrid to keep walking through the nursery with her body slumped against the crib with a screaming baby. They'll never know, that if Harry's life wasn't still in danger, Hagrid would have pulled them out and given them the respect that they deserved rather than leaving them for the others to find.
James and Lily will never know that the war was won. James and Lily will never know that their son lived.
AN: Love it? Hate it? Review it!