Written for the International Wizarding School Championship.
School: Hogwarts
Year: 7
Theme: Imperius Curse
Main prompt: [Event] Funeral
Additional prompt: [Object] Invisibility Cloak - not used by Harry Potter
Word Count: 2,794
A light pop! cracked the air on the sidewalk in front of the Church of St. Catchpole.
"How do you make that noise so quiet?" grumbled James Potter, appearing alongside his wife.
"Practice," Lily replied briskly. "Now, have you brought the Cloak?"
"It's just here," he said, pulling it out of his back pocket. "Though I don't understand why we've got to use it if the only people here are in the Order—"
Lily sighed, quickly surveying the surrounding street for any possible onlookers. "Dumbledore says there's a traitor in the Order. We can't risk it."
"Dumbledore didn't say we could be here," said James, wrapping the Cloak around himself and Lily. "If we're already breaking one rule, why not break another?"
"Because I, unlike you, have a conscience," she said smoothly, ducking under the Cloak.
None of the Potters were taking their new instructions from Dumbledore particularly well, but James especially interpreted them as a house arrest. He understood that Harry was in danger and almost always complied to the suggestions Dumbledore made, but Lily had noticed that the fact that his actions were limited was challenging for him to grasp. It wasn't that he would go out with his friends every night if it weren't for his constraints, but rather contradictorily that he wouldn't be able to go out with his friends every night if he wanted to. Though, Lily thought to herself, they had already given up nearly all of their independence when they had joined the Order, gotten married, and had Harry—yet Dumbledore speaking unspoken rules into existence that they had already followed only cemented their lack of autonomy. Of course, Lily was as affected as her husband by the impediments that prevented them from living their lives as they pleased, but unlike him she preferred to dwell on the reality that staying home meant they were all safe and out of harm's way.
Careful to ensure that the Cloak revealed as little of themselves as possible, the pair scurried cautiously and wordlessly down a pathway leading to the church's entrance. Lily felt a light August breeze lap at the Cloak and uncover the back of their ankles, furthering her awareness of how vulnerable they were despite their reliable camouflage.
James peered through the door and the two slowly opened and slipped past it upon confirmation that no stragglers like themselves were dawdling in the church's atrium. The magnificence of the church, which—Lily noted from a mounted plaque—was over 200 years old, stunned the Potters when they first entered. Though tightly pressed against each other—("Further confirmation that the Cloak was intended for only one person," Lily muttered under her breath)—the Potters were still able to admire the grandeur of the Church of St. Catchpole's entrance hall. Ornate illustrations of cherubs and angels adorned the domed ceiling; tinted light shined through the stained glass windows of the Virgin Mary and her Son; baroque designs were carved into the wall's eggshell white trim. The opulence of the church overwhelmed the Potters and nearly made both of them forget why they were there.
Both were only brought down to earth when they heard someone speaking nearby and realized that the doors to the chapel were propped open. The small number of funeral attendees—red-headed family members as well as Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Sirius, and Peter representing the Order—sat solemnly and silently in the first three rows of pews.
"Why did they choose to have the funeral here?" James asked, swallowing in awe.
"Fabian and Gideon grew up here in Ottery St. Catchpole, I believe," said Lily.
"But why at a church?"
"After the Statute of Secrecy was passed, a lot of wizarding communities joined churches to try to assimilate to the Muggle populations," she explained. "It was on the History of Magic O.W.L. exam in fifth year, remember?"
James snorted. "'Course not. I fell asleep during that exam. I meant why is Fabian and Gideon's funeral here? As far as I can recall, the Prewetts aren't avid church-goers."
"Perhaps not," said Lily, "but when we started off in the Order, Dumbledore said that memorial services should be held at a safe and meaningful but discreet place. I suppose the Prewetts thought this church filled that criteria."
"I understand Dumbledore's reasoning," said James tersely, "but I don't understand why they wouldn't just have the service somewhere that's more meaningful to them, like a family graveyard or something. That'd be safe, too, wouldn't it?"
"It could be," she said. "Granted, if—Merlin forbid—you or I died, Dumbledore would probably want us buried in Godric's Hollow or in one of—"
"Dumbledore," James sighed exasperatedly. "The old man's dictated every part of our lives now! He wants us to use the bloody Fidelius Charm, he wants me to lend him my Cloak, and now you're saying he's going to choose where we're buried! What part of our sanity won't he take away?!"
"Ssh!" Lily hissed, her shush echoing through the entrance hall. She squeezed his hand to calm him, her heart pounding anxiously for fear of being discovered by the headmaster himself. "When did he say he wants to borrow your Cloak?" she whispered.
"A few weeks ago, at the last Order meeting," he said, as they scuffled into the chapel. "Or should I say, at the last Order meeting we'll ever attend since a blasted centenarian controls everything we do now."
"I wish you'd—"
The shrill cry of a newborn baby filled the air; a red-headed woman rushed down the aisle straight towards them, clutching the infant to her chest to muffle its whimpers. Lily and James frantically shuffled out of the young mother's path and into a pew.
"I think that's Molly Weasley," said Lily softly.
"Fabian and Gideon's sister?"
"Yes," she said. "I may be remembering this wrong, but I think Gideon mentioned something about his sister having just had her sixth baby when I was pregnant with Harry."
"Harry's a lot bigger than that kid."
"They must've had another."
"Seven children?" said James incredulously. "That's a full Quidditch team."
Lily smiled. "Your dream."
"Not while we're trapped in a tiny cottage with nothing to do."
She hesitated. "I know it's hard," she said gently, "and our situation is hardly ideal, but I wish you'd at least try to be more optimistic."
James opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it when he remembered why they were sitting on the back row of a random church in Devon. The ceremony official administering the service continued speaking, commentating on the Prewett brothers' embodiment of courage, bravery, and chivalry.
"It is such values as these, as uncoincidentally represented by the Fabian and Gideon's House of Gryffindor, that encourage hope during the somber trials which this war has brought upon us," said the ceremony official, the wispy white tuft of hair on his head bobbing as he spoke. His humdrum voice lulled in the distance as Lily belatedly came to terms with the fact that Fabian and Gideon were truly gone. Though Order meetings disheartened each and every member as the grip of the opposition gradually and all too quickly tightened its hold on the wizarding world, the Prewett brothers had always been luminous sources of joy despite the undeniable gloom. They were as exhausted as everybody else, but their presences alone had reminded Lily that all hope is not lost in wartime. Now, though….
Sirius had said it had taken five Death Eaters to kill both of them—back-to-back fighting and two consecutive flashes of green light and they both crumpled. Green, Lily mused, was such an odd color for the Killing Curse. Green was the color of trees and grass and leaves and life; black or gray would better suit the heaviness of the curse's effect. Yet in the midst of midnight battles, the Death Eaters stole the souls of her friends with flashes of green—not black, not gray. Green. Perhaps the color served as a reminder of the laughter and comfort and hope that Fabian and Gideon had brought to rejuvenate people's spirits. Though death's reign was eternal, its victory on the battlefield was fleeting in comparison to that of the vitality and warmth that lived on after.
"...and while our dear friends' passings are overwhelming admonitions that life is not forever," said the ceremony official, "they are also reminders that every one of us must not forsake our soul's time on this earth."
Earlier Lily had casually mentioned the prospect of her or James dying without realistically considering the weight of what a tragedy that would be. What would she do if James died? What James do if she died? What would Harry do if they both died? If she died young, it was likely to be in this accursed war where she would only be remembered for her death instead of what she did and who she was. How could she be of comfort to Harry, sweet, innocent Harry, from the afterlife if all he knew about her was how she spent the last moments of her life?
"...for though the body will inevitably cease to pump blood, our hearts are forever bound by the sacrifices we made and the bliss we brought to enrich one another's spirits."
Before, Lily and James had fought in the war for each other—now, though, they kept living for Harry. Everything was for Harry.
"It may be challenging to accept that Fabian and Gideon are gone from this world, but these trying times require each and every one of us to treasure our dearest friends and family even more devotedly than we are. The other side wishes to take advantage of us and manipulate us whilst we dwell in our temporary defeat, but we must continue. We must go on for the sake of Fabian and Gideon and all of the others whose lives have been cruelly taken from us because of this harrowing conflict.
"Thank you all for being here to honor the lives…."
"We should go before everyone else leaves," whispered Lily. The Potters stood in unison and hurried out of the chapel, through the majestic atrium, and onto the front lawn of the church.
Lily breathed out, releasing the anxiety she had had in the chapel of being found out. "They'll be coming out in a moment," she said. "We ought to head around to the back of the church so we can Disapparate without anyone hearing."
"Your cracks are so quiet that that won't be a problem," James pointed out. Still, they walked through the graveyard around the perimeter of the church, its aging brick staring down at the glimpses of their shoes peeking out from under the Cloak. They stopped once they reached the backside of the church, a safe and decent distance from the small crowd that would be gathered at the entrance.
"It was nice of Remus to watch Harry for us," said Lily quietly.
"Yes, it's so hard to sit around and watch a kid sleep for two hours," James said tiredly.
"Still. It gave us a break, no matter how short."
"A break? We need a holiday."
"Would stop feeling sorry for yourself for one moment?" she snapped. "At least we're out of the house! I suppose it's lucky for us that Remus was feeling a bit under the weather so that he could take our place of 'sitting around and watching a kid sleep for two hours.' As a matter of fact, of the two of us, I wonder who 'sits around and watches a kid sleep' most often? And which one of us whines and wallows in self-pity on the sofa all day?"
James tore the Cloak off both of them angrily and stuffed it into his back pocket, spinning around to face his wife. "Seeing as we don't even have a choice to leave the house, I think I have a right to waste my life 'whining and wallowing in self-pity' because we don't even have lives anymore! Any slimmer of...self-reliance that we had before Harry was born has been taken away by your idol!"
"My idol?" said Lily bemusedly. "Why is Dumbledore my idol? Because he's trying to protecting us and I'm the only one of us actually cooperating with him while our lives are at stake?"
"He's taken control of us, Lily!"
"No, you've let the war take control of you," she said coolly, "and you're targeting your anger at him. Dumbledore is on our side, James. For Merlin's sake, he's the one who's trying the hardest to keep all three of us safe. You're acting as if he's the one who started the war."
"I know that he's trying to keep us safe," said James, "but I don't think he's going about it the right way. He doesn't see us for who we are. If he knows that we're growing stir-crazy—"
"You're the one growing stir-crazy. I like to believe that I have maintained every bit of rationality that I possessed before we even joined the Order."
"Right," said James, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "If he knows that I'm growing stir-crazy, then why has he shut us up and forbidden us from leaving?"
Lily smirked. "He hasn't explicitly forbidden it, but he does strongly recommend that we don't wander around."
"Or attend Order meetings," he added. "Order meetings are supposed to be safe, aren't they? Voldemort's never invaded them."
"But Dumbledore himself suspects that a spy has infiltrated the Order," she said. "He doesn't want us to accidentally reveal too much of ourselves to the spy." Lily paused, allowing her words to sink in. "Harry is in danger, James, more than you and I have ever been. You—we—must respect that Dumbledore knows how to help us. He's not trying to control us just so he can control some part of this unpredictable war; he's trying to keep us safe. We must trust him."
James sighed. "You're right, as always. And I'm sorry if I've been a prat lately. It's just—"
"I know," interrupted Lily. "You're not the only one who's frustrated, you know." She waited a moment before she spoke again. "You ought to give the Cloak to Dumbledore," said Lily. "He'll have a purpose for needing it. Who knows—it could help end the very war that you blame him for starting."
"I don't blame him for—oi!" said James when he realized Lily was laughing to herself. "Fine, I'll lend it to him. But that means no more sneaking out and about like this, though."
"The only reason I would sneak out is so I can copy that amazing painting that was in the church when we first walked in," she said. "I think we ought to get one in our kitchen."
He grinned. "Not in our bedroom?"
"Oh, God," Lily chuckled. "Can you imagine if that's what we woke up to every morning?"
"We could get Sirius to model for one of the cherubs," continued James. "Peter might be willing to join in, too. Maybe he could be an angel. Remus could be God and you could be Mary—"
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter," said a voice from around the corner. "I thought I heard your voices. How lovely that you've come to pay your respects."
Lily and James froze as Dumbledore appeared in front of them. "Er, hello," said James. "Fancy seeing you here."
Lily frowned at James's words as she frantically tried to come up with an excuse. "We came to pay our respects...and to give you this," she said quickly, fishing into James's back pocket and whipping out the Cloak.
"Ah, yes, the Cloak of Invisibility," said Dumbledore, accepting the shimmering Cloak. "I will return it as soon as I am able—I'm sure its presence will be sorely missed."
"Thank you," said Lily awkwardly.
The three stood in silence for a moment before Dumbledore said, "Well, I won't keep you any longer. I wish you both a good evening." James nodded in response as Dumbledore turned the corner once again.
"'Fancy seeing you here'?" exclaimed Lily, once she was sure he was out of earshot. "That was the only thing you could think to say to the man you've apparently harbored a grudge against since Voldemort came to power?"
"Quick thinking on your part," James said, ignoring her comment. "We should go, too, shouldn't we? Especially since we don't have the Cloak now."
"It's not like we were using it," said Lily, "but yes, we should go."
"As soon as we get the Cloak back," said James, taking Lily's hand, "we're going to come back to this church to see the cherubs, alright?"
She smiled. "Alright." The Potters Disapparated feeling freer than they had in months, a soft pop! left behind in their wake.
The title comes from a poem by Dylan Thomas that I happened to stumble across while brainstorming a name for this story. I think it perfectly captures some of the sentiments which I attempted to express in this story - check it out!
