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CHAPTER ONE
September 1
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Lily sat, pensive, on the edge of her bed. The London sky was an indifferent greenish gray, the air heavy; it looked as though it might rain. She ran her fingers tiredly through her hair still tangled from sleep, letting her hands pause to massage her temples. Her eyes opened again and Lily stared, hard, out the blank window. The stationary skyline, the still water of the Thames, the inactivity of the streets—the city wore a façade of peacefulness, but to Lily it seemed paralyzed, passively menacing.
What an omen, she thought grimly. She could already feel the strain that school would bring: the inevitable blood tension, the pressure to do well on her NEWTs, and the ceaseless, immature pranks of the Marauders. The gray-green sky seemed to project her feelings for the world to see. The world can't see anything, she amended herself, the world is dead at this god-forsaken hour.
She stood up and stretched languidly, resignedly. It was five o'clock and the train didn't leave until eleven, but Lily had to be out of the apartment in an hour. They were coming, she thought bitterly. She dragged her feet into the kitchen to put on the teapot, and then she went into the bathroom to take a fast shower while the tea-water boiled.
Lily emerged from her shower pink-faced and decidedly more awake and optimistic. Maybe it won't be so bad, she thought. Maybe this year will be better. Maybe. She sipped strong dark tea and combed her hair, watching the pale sun wash the city with weak, half-hearted rays. It was time to go; she took a deep breath.
She had packed her trunk the night before, so she had only to slip on a pair of sandals and she was ready to go. She cast one last, long look at the apartment before the door shut with a definitive click.
Ah well, the sooner I get there, the sooner I'll get out. Then, because there was no elevator in the apartment building, Lily began the long and strenuous process of heaving her trunk down three flights of stairs. This is the last year I'll have to do this…
Lily tensed as she always did when she stepped onto the Tube, and she was relieved to find the subway car depressingly empty. It was strange, Lily realized as she rode the growling subway to Kings Cross Station, that she seemed to be the only student in the wizardly world who didn't think of Hogwarts with excitement. For her it was just a necessary step in her path towards becoming an Auror, when she would finally be able to make an impact on the world. She hated the persistent feeling of futility that Hogwarts instilled in her; how could her classmates maintain the same ignorantly cheerful attitude while the world was ever darkening around them? It just seemed—
But Lily's thoughts were abruptly cut short when the subway grated loudly to a stop, a disembodied voice telling nobody that they were at Kings Cross Station. Nobody but Lily. She tugged her trunk out onto the unwelcoming platform and shivered; it was cold for September.
She looked up at the big iron clock and saw that it was only 6:30; she had a lot of time to kill. Wrapping herself up in her dad's old, frayed herringbone jacket and pulling a ragged book out of the pocket, she folded herself up on a metal bench and tried to get comfortable. Minutes later she was immersed in Gravity's Rainbow, trying to escape into London during the blitz, the fictional madness of the book no escape and no excuse.
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People began milling into the train station about an hour after Lily arrived, but she didn't emerge from her captivated reverie until 10:45, when a hand pulled unceremoniously on her ponytail.
"Oh!" she said in surprise, dropping her book and sitting quickly upright. Her hands flew to her head, and she smacked the hand that was tugging on her hair. "Off."
"Sorry, Lily," said James with a grin that said he was not sorry at all. He bent down and picked up her book, pausing midway through straightening up again to read the title. "Pynchon?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Heavy stuff."
Lily didn't answer him but she did reach for her book, letting out a sound of annoyance when James finished straightening up so that the book was out of her reach. "Please?" she said. "We're not even in school yet, give me a break. Can I please have my book back?"
"Can I borrow it when you're done?" asked James without making any move to give it back. It sounded as though the return of her book was conditional upon her response to his question.
Lily would not be coerced into lending the book to James. "Probably not," she said stoutly, standing up and wresting her novel from his hands. He looked halfway between crestfallen and amused.
"Well, I guess there's still a chance, then," he said.
"I guess." And with that, Lily stuffed the thick book into the pocket of her oversized coat and started heaving her trunk towards the barrier at Platform 9 3/4.
James stared after her, a hesitant look upon his face. "Do you want—" he began suddenly, starting towards her.
"No, I've got it," Lily said sharply, interrupting him.
"What made you think I was going to offer to get your trunk?" James asked slyly. "Conceited."
Lily sighed; it was five of eleven and she did not have time for James's antics. "What were you going to ask, then?" she bit out.
"…" James tried to think of something to say, and fast, for of course he had intended to lend her a hand with her heavy trunk. He had wanted to show off how much he'd worked out over the summer.
Lily smirked. "Ah."
"No, wait," said James desperately; a Marauder was never caught in a lie. "I was just going to ask—do you want to go on a date with me?" The words tumbled out before he even had time to consider what he was asking. Or rather, he hadn't time to consider who he was asking. And how she would take it.
Lily's eyes widened in shock and incredulity. "Excuse me? Were you serious?" Her tone was unintentionally caustic.
"Er…" James muttered, embarrassed by what he had asked in his haste to save face and even more embarrassed that he actually cared what she answered.
"Um…" Lily said uncertainly. Her voice softened, and she met his eyes. "I'm sorry, I…that wouldn't work for me."
"That's okay, no problem. Just thought I'd ask. I don't even…I should have thought abouit it more. It probably wouldn't work for me either, you know." A jumble of excuses came mumbling too quickly from James's mouth.
"Oh—okay," said Lily. "I'll see you at school, then." She turned and walked hurriedly, though awkwardly because of her cumbersome trunk, through the barrier and onto the Hogwarts Express.
James stood staring after her, his face beet-red. Great impression to make on the first day of school, he thought. Desperate, bumbling, and inarticulate. He shook his head and pressed his hands to his temples in much the same way that Lily had calmed herself earlier that morning. Then, lifting his trunk with ease, he too disappeared through the barrier at 9 3/4. He was glad to be back, despite his unfortunate exchange with Lily; he wanted to find his friends.
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On the train, Lily was relieved to find an empty compartment with relative ease. A few minutes later, the door was flung open and in came Emma like a harmless but very tumultuous storm.
"Lily!" she cried, flinging her arms dramatically around her friend. "I missed you. The summer was long and rainy."
"I know. I missed you too," said Lily earnestly. She was a bit of a loner, but school would have been truly unbearable if not for her unpredictable best friend.
It was strange forces that brought Lily and Emma together, for they couldn't have been more different. Physically, they were polar opposites: Lily was fair and red-haired, with wide-set green eyes half a candle too animated by sarcasm to pass for dreamy; Emma had dark hair and deep-set eyes that seemed haunted when she let her guard down, her beauty far less conventional than Lily's but no less profound.
Most significant than the girls' physical differences, however, were their divergent personalities. Lily's dry, sarcastic wit played against Emma's puns and more lighthearted jokes; Lily was dead focused on her future as an Auror and could be serious to a fault, while Emma, more apt to not take things serious enough, wanted to teach at Hogwarts after graduation.
They got along, though, because they shared a similar hard-wrought intelligence and flagrant disregard for people's expectations. Each had a stubbornness that seemed rivaled only by the other's, and they shared that rare ability to understand a whole conversation from one look.
The best thing about Hogwarts by far, thought Lily as she looked at Emma with a smile.
Emma smiled back mischievously. "I saw you talking to James this morning," she said, her words laden. "He was blushing like mad."
"Ah—was he, then?" asked Lily with badly feigned nonchalance; her own ears were reddening at the memory of that morning's encounter.
"Yes he was. And he was looking after you with a thousand thoughts in his eyes."
"Where were you to see all this?" asked Lily suspiciously.
"Saying goodbye to my Ma. Or, rather, trying to gently ease her away as she clamped me in a lung-crushing embrace." Emma noticed the look on Lily's face and quickly added, "I'm sorry, Lily, I didn't mean—"
"No, don't apologize," said Lily quickly. "It's no big deal." She deftly changed the subject: "I bet James doesn't even have a thousand thoughts in his brain, let alone his eyes," she said dismissively.
"Cynic," Emma said accusingly.
"Romantic," Lily shot back like an insult.
"Yeah, we are at that," said Emma thoughtfully. "We're odd girls, aren't we?"
"Yep," Lily agreed. She hoped the topic of James was dropped, and it seemed that it was, at least for now.
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James, in the meantime, found the other Marauders almost as quickly as Emma found Lily. A wide grin broke across his face when he opened up a compartment door to find the three familiar faces of his best friends looking up at him.
"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot," James said in greeting, tipping an imaginary hat to each of them in turn.
"Prongs," said Sirius, standing up and slapping James on the back. "Good to see you, old pal. Long time, no see."
"How long has it been, ten minutes?" said James with a raised eyebrow. "Padfoot, we've seen each other every waking hour for the past two months." Sirius's family, shady wizards with a reputation for intimacy with the Dark Arts, had disowned him after Sirius and his mother had had a row when he was fifteen. The topic of dispute was the importance of pure blood, a subject about which Mrs. Ursa Black had unsurprisingly bigoted views.
Since that fateful fight, Sirius had lived with the Potters at their house in Godric's Hollow, and he'd never been happier. For the first time in his life, Sirius had a family who loved him fiercely—he would never have guessed that that family would be on the opposite side of the wizarding vendetta he'd grown up entangled in.
"Well, to me it feels like just an eyeblink of time," sighed Sirius dramatically.
"Oh, cut out the antics," said Remus, standing up to hug James. "I for one haven't seen you guys all summer…though I think I've already had enough of Padfoot," he said the last part in a stage-whisper, throwing a none-too-subtle look at Sirius.
"I missed you too, Moony," said James. "How are the other Lupins?"
"Fine, fine. My mom wanted to say hello to you but she couldn't find you today at the station."
"That's because Prongs was flirting," said Peter. "With Li-ly."
"Eh?" asked Remus, looking at James for confirmation. James was looking at his feet with studied focus, and Remus took that as confirmation enough.
"I always thought that maybe you had a thing for her," said Sirius knowingly. "She's very purdy."
"Shut up," said James. "I was just…asking her a question."
"James," said Remus warningly, "what did you ask her?"
"Did you ask her to do you a favor?" asked Sirius suggestively.
"No!" James exclaimed. "I asked her…if I could help her with her trunk," he lied. He could feel his neck getting warm—he rarely lied to his friends—but luckily the other Marauders misinterpreted his blush.
"Aww," said Sirius. "Cute."
"But she said no," Peter added helpfully. James shot him a thanks-for-nothing look.
"She said no?" asked Remus. "Ouch."
"Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?" James asked Peter in irritation.
"No, I just saw you guys as I was going through the barrier. But I did notice that when she came through later, she was hauling her trunk behind her."
"Ah, good deduction," said Sirius approvingly. Then, to James: "Sorry mate. I didn't know you were that bad with the ladies."
"I'm not!" said James defensively. "She just—I mean, I just—I just got a little nervous and started bumbling. It was awkward; I don't blame her." There, James thought, At least I'm telling the truth here. It made him very uncomfortable to lie to his friends, and he was already regretting his initial falsehood; now he was going to have to stick to his original story.
"You started bumbling over offering to carry her trunk?" asked Remus incredulously. "Really?"
"Yeah, can we please just drop this?" replied James with a frown.
"Fine, whatever, mate," said Sirius.
"Sorry I brought it up," said Peter.
James paused, then his brow unfurrowed and he grinned at his friends. "It's good to be back together with you guys," he said earnestly. "Even if you are taunting me about my ineptness with the fairer sex."
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When there was only a half hour left in the train ride, Lily stood up and stretched her cramped legs. "Well, Emma, I guess I'll see you in the Great Hall," she said with a sigh.
"Oh, Head business?" Emma asked. Lily only nodded in reply. "I don't know why you're so down-and-out about being Head Girl," Emma said, furrowing her brow. "You've always wanted to be an Auror more than anything, and having Head Girl on your resume can only help."
"I know, I know," Lily agreed. "It's just that 7th year is busy enough without having to deal with Head duties and patrols."
"You know that I can pick up the slack whenever you need a break," Emma said sincerely. Then, cracking a smile: "I can whip those Prefects into shape."
"I know you can," Lily said with a smile. She paused then, as if unsure, before asking, "Say, Emma, do you know who the Head Boy is?"
"No, do you?"
"No. I was thinking it might be Joe Spinnet from Hufflepuff or Henry Lutgendorf from Ravenclaw."
"Or it might be Remus Lupin," Emma added. "He's cute."
"Sure," said Lily noncommittally; she didn't want the conversation to turn towards the Marauders, because she didn't want to tell Emma about the incident with James until she understood her own feelings on it. Before Emma could reply, Lily made for the door. "Well, I guess I'll find out soon enough!" she said cheerfully as she left the compartment.
She headed towards the front of the train, towards the exclusive Heads compartment, where she and the Head Boy would be receiving directions from Dumbledore. Lily was excited despite her griping about the added work; she was proud that she had been chosen for the enviable position of Head Girl—especially because she wasn't pure-blooded—and she knew that the title would be valuable when she applied for Auror training the following year. Her mood had certainly brightened since that morning.
She reached the compartment a few minutes early and pulled off her sweater and jeans, replacing her muggle apparel with the Hogwarts uniform. Upon settling her cloak around her shoulders, Lily felt strangely like a great weight had been lifted from her; she suddenly felt that however muddled and tense her feelings about the wizarding world might be, it was where she belonged.
Lily went to one of the dark wood benches in the compartment, sitting on her hands as she eagerly waited for the Head Boy. Although she respected Henry, Joe, and Remus, she hoped that the Head Boy was someone unexpected. God knew she needed some excitement, some unpredictability, to brighten up what looked to be a dull job.
Out the window of the Hogwarts Express, scenery bumped by like in an old movie. The sky, like her mindset, had brightened considerably over the past couple of hours. Her eyes followed a tree red and crisp with autumn as it shrank off in the distance. She let her heartbeat match the deep, regular thrum-thrumming of the train on its tracks…
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"Mhhm" came the sound of a throat clearing at the compartment door. Lily's eyes snapped open, though she didn't realize she had shut them in the first place. She looked up to see James Potter leaning coolly against the doorframe. She hated to be seated while talking to someone who was standing; it made her feel lazy, rude, and oddly inferior. Upon standing up, however, Lily managed only to lurch a few steps forward before she realized that her legs were completely asleep and she could barely walk.
"Ouch!" she said, wincing, as she fell ungracefully back onto the bench. "Oh, ow."
James looked on in amusement. "Were you asleep?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"N-no," Lily said a little too quickly. How had she fallen so suddenly asleep?—and in the Heads compartment, of all places. She groaned inwardly. On the outside, however, she put on a bright smile: "I was just resting my eyes."
"Why did you—?" James asked bluntly, gesturing towards Lily's legs.
"Oh…" she stretched her legs out and rubbed her hands on her thighs to try to revive them. "My legs just fell asleep. Sitting in one place for too long, I guess."
"Ah." James looked at her appraisingly for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision. "Can I sit down?"
Lily gave him a strange look; he was acting as if nothing had happened that morning at the train station, or at least he was doing a good job of covering up the awkwardness on his part. She was not doing such a good job. "Um, actually, Dumbledore's going to be coming in soon to talk to me and the Head Boy," she said.
He gave her a look.
"I'm Head Girl," she added quickly, realizing that she hadn't put on her badge yet.
"I figured," he said. "You're the smartest girl in our year."
She blushed. "Do you really think that?"
"Well, the fact that you're sitting in the Heads compartment was also a tip-off," James replied glibly.
Lily blushed this time because she was embarrassed about her initial blush and because she had thought he was being serious. For a moment, his compliment had made her feel really good. Bastard, she thought.
When Lily didn't reply, James spoke again. "So I can sit here?"
"No. I thought I was clear before: this compartment is only for me and the Head Boy," she said, irritated.
"Hm, I thought I was clear before as well: I'm the Head Boy."
Silence. Lily stared at him. He stared back at her, then he cracked a tentative smile.
"What?!"
"Surprise?" he said meekly. "Sorry…not who you were expecting, am I?"
"Er, no. Sorry. I just didn't think—I mean, you're always goofing off—your homework—I just thought—not a prefect—I thought Remus—Joe, Henry—" Lily was having a hard time articulating herself. She took a deep breath. "No, I didn't expect you to be Head Boy. New development. So."
"So," James agreed.
"Was I really asleep?"
"Sure looked like it."
"How long were you looking at me?" she asked accusingly.
"Just for a second," James lied. "Then I cleared my throat."
"Good boy."
"Head Boy," he corrected her cheekily.
Lily stood up and shook James's hand. "Head Boy," she said with a smile. If she was going to have to work with him, they had might as well get along. She looked awkwardly away and then glanced back at him; his neck was flushed red and, in contrast to her own slightly forced smile, his was genuine and stretched from ear to ear.
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Author's note: I stole one line for this chapter almost verbatim from Neil Gaiman's American Gods and another from Michael Chabon's Kavalier and Clay. If you can name one or both of them, I'll be wildly impressed; they're pretty obscure. These chapters will probably all be long-ish (this one being on the shorter end of the spectrum), and consequently they will probably be less frequent than is desirable. I'll do my best. In the meantime, review and then listen to Bob Dylan's Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts. Love, Aseret.