Title: I See Fire
Author: BooksVCigarettes
Summary: Secrets never stay buried for long. The world is on fire and one way or another, Juliet Spencer knows that she will burn with it.
Disclaimer: I own Jules and Moira. Nothing else.
Rating; T for now
Thanks very much to Blue Kat for my first review!
Chapter 2: October 8th 1995
"Come on, Jules! I'm not missing breakfast again this week…"
"Alright, would you hold on a second? My robes are caugh-"
An almighty crash.
"... Was that a crystal ball?"
A moment's horror-filled pause.
"Don't say it."
"Do you think Trelawney predicted that?"
"I said don't say it."
The sound of high pitched maniacal giggling coming ever-closer. A shared wide-eyed stare.
"Is that Peeves?"
"Run."
The frantic patter of light feet descending many stairs accompanied by breathless laughter and friendly jostling. Moira fixed her friend with a glare as they bolted from the scene of their crime.
"Now we have to find a new place to practice. Honestly Jules, I swear you could trip over your own shadow."
"My shadow is a tricky little bastard. It likes to see me fall to its level."
Moira cocked an eyebrow at her friend as they jogged along the corridor, their robes billowing out behind them.
"That's a pretty impressive level of narcissism, even for you."
Jules smiled winningly "Thank you."
"Not a compliment."
"Not a sincere admission of gratitude. OI!" Jules ducked as a screwed-up ball of parchment came flying at her head as she and Moira hurried into the Great Hall "Watch where you're throwing your rejection letters from the Quibbler's topless male page, Jordan!" she glared at the tall boy who poked his tongue out at her while his friends tried to hide their sniggers.
"Why don't you watch where you're standing, Spencer?"
Jules smiled primly and struck a coquettish pose, her hands on her hips "Why should I, when everybody else already does?"
"There's that narcissism again…" muttered Moira as she gave Jules's arm a squeeze before disappearing off to the Slytherin table. Jules waved her friend off before settling herself down at the Gryffindor table, blithely ignoring the not-so-subtle way that her fellow housemates shifted away from her to continue their conversations. This was not an unusual occurrence and one that she had deliberately neglected to acknowledge since she had become friendly with Moira in their first year. She pulled out her unfinished Muggle Studies essay and cast a quick charm under her breath so that her tea would begin to stir itself as she tried to formulate a closing paragraph in her head. This was only the second essay they had been set for the year but by far the most difficult they had ever done – even for a half-blood like herself. Jules wasn't even sure that she had answered the question properly. She needed to bounce ideas off someone, but who? She cast an eye around the Gryffindor table, her gaze eventually falling on Hermione Granger, currently chatting amiably with the youngest Weasley sibling. She didn't know Hermione all that well but the fifth year took the class with her, having been accelerated on the course by two years because she was so advanced. Jules sighed. Logically, Hermione would be the best person to ask.
That being said, Jules didn't have the best relationship with any of her housemates, who (when they weren't ignoring her altogether) preferred to treat her with suspicious contempt because of her friendship with Moira. Jules had run out of tosses to give about this relatively early on in her school career, but had decided not to treat her fellow Gryffindors badly simply because they were incapable of having mature adult friendships. Her encounter with Lee Jordan that morning was about as spiteful as she got.
Seeing the clock edging ever closer to lesson time and deciding she had nothing to lose, Jules waved at Hermione to get her attention. The fifth year blanched slightly, but offered her a wary smile.
"Can I ask you something?" Jules mouthed across the table. Hermione nodded and Jules shuffled down the bench, holding her essay aloft to stop it from dragging through the food. She ignored the vaguely uncomfortable looks on both Hermione and Ginny's faces and launched straight into her query "This essay for Muggle Studies is messing with my mind. Can I get your opinion?"
Hermione reached out for the essay with a frown "I thought you were a muggleborn?"
Jules shook her head "My dad was a muggle, but we had barely any muggle kitchen appliances so I'm lost."
As Hermione perused her essay, Jules went to pull her textbook from her bag and as she did, it caught on something she would normally have carefully concealed in a side pocket but in her haste to leave Trelawney's classroom had simply shoved it in. Jules's breath caught in her throat as her most prized possession clattered across the table and she surged forward to pick it up, her grasp narrowly missing the Walkman as Fred Weasley swooped in and picked it up.
"What's this then, Spencer?"
Jules slammed a hand down on top of Fred's "Keep your voice down!" she hissed, but it was already too late. The attentions of Lee Jordan and Fred's twin brother George, who had been charming bits of toast to hover around the heads of first years, had now been caught and they turned to the exchange between Fred and Jules.
Jules gave Fred a look that was equal parts hateful and imploring "Give it back."
The redhead raised an eyebrow "Not until you tell me what it is."
"Why do you even care?"
He shrugged and smirked at her "I have an inquisitive mind."
"Seems like a fair trade, Spencer." Lee remarked, grinning obnoxiously across the table at her. Jules sighed.
"If I tell you, will you swear you won't tell any of the teachers that I have it?"
"That depends," Fred said evenly, his eyes never leaving hers "Would you do the same for us?"
Jules felt something spark within her and she looked at him coldly "I'm going to pretend that you're referring to the chance that one day you'll need me to cover your arse when one of your stupid pranks go wrong and not making an ill-informed comment about my loyalties and where they lie."
"Tell yourself whatever you need to, love." They stared at one another for a moment, eyes blazing. Fred made no move to take his hand away from underneath hers and Jules resisted the urge to dig her nails into his skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Professor Umbridge making her way down from the teacher's table. If a teacher caught her with this, she was dead.
"It's a music player." She said through gritted teeth "Now give it back."
Fred raised an eyebrow "Nice try. Muggle devices don't work at Hogwarts."
Jules mumbled something incoherent and all three boys leaned in closer "What was that, Spencer?" Lee was practically bouncing in his chair with glee at her discomfort.
"I found a hacker who charmed it illegally for me." She said in a low voice "It feeds off residual magical energy to keep itself charged and stops it from malfunctioning."
The boys stared at her for a moment. It was George who broke the silence first "That's pretty badass, Spencer."
"Whatever. Now give it back-" Jules yanked on Fred's wrist at the same time as he let go of the Walkman and once again it flew from both of their grasps, scattering to the floor at the feet of none other than Professor Umbridge. The tiny pink-clad toad who refused to let them do spells in class stooped to pick up the device, holding it between her thumb and forefinger as though it were a filthy sock.
"To whom does this belong please?" Her voice was quiet and sickly sweet.
Jules felt sick. Muggle devices weren't prohibited at Hogwarts, but if Umbridge discovered that the Walkman had been hacked to stop it from malfunctioning with an illegal charm, she was dead meat. Umbridge hadn't said as much, but it had been clear from the off that she didn't favour muggleborns and halfbloods.
Right now, she was staring down the Gryffindor table waiting for someone to own up and accept their punishment. She would wait all day if she had to. Jules opened her mouth to speak but Fred Weasley beat her to it.
"It's mine, Professor." Jules whipped around in her seat to stare at him open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Fred ignored her "My father collects muggle artefacts. I'm not sure what it does. I was showing it to my friends."
Umbridge gave him a smug smile "Detention for disorderly conduct, Mr Weasley. You could have had someone's eye out. Tonight, eight o'clock sharp." She waved the Walkman in his general direction "You can have this back if I feel you have sufficiently learnt your lesson."
As she walked away, Jules leaned over the table and muttered "What did you do that for? That wasn't necessary."
"You're welcome," Fred sneered sarcastically "Honestly woman, I was only trying to help! At least if I said it was my father's, she wouldn't think to question whether it worked or not would she?" Jules realised with a pang of annoyance that he was right.
"Thank you," she said grudgingly "but I'm quite capable of taking responsibility for myself."
Fred raised a sardonic eyebrow "I'll just go and tell Umbridge that it's yours then, shall I? Let you explain to her that you've had an illegal charm put on it so it works at school? I'm pretty sure you'll never get it back and you might even get expelled, but if that's the way you want to play it…" He made to get up from the table and follow the professor. Jules knew he was most likely bluffing but what could she do? He had the power. She reached up and grabbed his wrist.
"Please," she said through gritted teeth "Please don't."
Fred shot a grin to Lee and George and Jules had to stop herself from kicking him under the table. He sat back down and leaned across the table toward her "Alright, you've twisted my arm. I'll do the detention to cover for you, Spencer. But you owe me."
"But – You! I didn't-" Jules exploded furiously. Fred just watched her, an amused gleam in his eye as she collected herself enough to speak in full sentences. Eventually she drew a deep breath "We've established that I'm grateful to you Weasley," She spoke in a low, slow and dangerous voice "But I never asked you to help me. In fact, if you hadn't been such a pompous arse and given me back my things when I asked you to, we wouldn't be in this mess. So you can do that detention and we'll call ourselves even."
X
Still furious with the confiscation of her favourite possession, Jules retrieved her essay from Hermione with a curt nod of thanks and stomped from the Great Hall toward the Muggle Studies classroom. She was largely angry at Fred Weasley and his stupid smug face and arrogant attitude but she was also angry at herself for not putting the Walkman away properly in her haste to leave Trelawney's room. Because of her carelessness, she was in danger of losing one of the items she valued most in the world. Stalking into Professor Burbage's classroom, she flung her essay sulkily at her favourite teacher and found her seat. Burbage set her concerned gaze on Jules.
"Is everything alright, Miss Spencer?"
Jules attempted a weak smile "I'm fine thank you, Professor. Just glad to be rid of that essay."
The Professor offered her a kindly grin in return "Yes, it was rather a tricky one. Hopefully the next one will be more to your liking." She turned her attention to the tall student ambling through the door "Ah, Mr. Jordan. Better late than never. I was just about to begin discussing the new assignment."
X
"This is a nightmare." Lee slumped forward onto the table, his head in his hands "It's even harder than the kitchen appliance essay!"
"You didn't write the kitchen appliance essay," Jules admonished mildly, jotting down ideas on a piece of parchment "Besides, you love showing off. I thought this would be right up your street."
She had found Lee in the Gryffindor common room after class to discuss the new assignment from Burbage. Much to their mutual distaste, Burbage had paired them together to work. Both had attempted to protest – Jules had even offered to work alone – but Burbage's word had been final. Lee had disappeared after class before Jules had a chance to talk to him so she had decided to bide her time and approach him in the common room where she knew he would want to get rid of her quickly. That way, she thought, he would be more willing to accept her ideas just to see the back of her and then she would have some control over this thing. Jules grinned inwardly. Moira's Slytherin cunning must be rubbing off on her. She also wanted to be around when Fred Weasley came back from detention to retrieve her Walkman from him. He'd better not have done anything to stop Umbridge from letting him have it back.
"It's cruel and unusual punishment!" Lee moaned "I don't see how this has anything to do with muggle studies at all!"
Jules raised an eyebrow "You mean apart from the fact that we have to analyse and then perform a muggle song for the class?" She widened her eyes in mock horror "Good grief - you're right, Jordan! This is the furthest thing from muggle studies ever." She waved her parchment at him "Come on. The sooner we get started on this, the sooner it will be over. I already have a few ideas."
Lee huffed a final time but took the parchment from her anyway. He scanned down the list of songs, an appraising eyebrow raised. Stopping halfway down he glanced up at her.
"You have ridiculous taste in music."
Jules raised an eyebrow in return, a weary look on her face as though she were tired of his idiocy "I prefer to think of myself as an eclectic."
"Call it whatever you like Spencer, but I have never seen Bon Jovi in such close proximity to Joni Mitchell in my entire life."
Jules stared at Lee in surprise "You know muggle music?"
Lee shrugged "My mum's a muggleborn. Her family's into music. This one." He jabbed a finger somewhere near the bottom of the list "Let's sing this."
Jules followed the line of his finger with her gaze and let out an astonished snort of laughter "Really?"
Lee threw his hands up in the air, frustrated "What's wrong with that one?"
Jules held up her own hands "Nothing! I just didn't think you would go for that one, is all. When do you want to practice?"
They were interrupted then by Fred Weasley crashing into the common room, George closely in tow. Jules balked a little when she saw Fred's face. Why was he so pale? He marched over to where Jules and Lee were sitting and slammed her Walkman down in front of her on the table with his right hand. His left, she noticed, he kept down at his side with the sleeve of his jumper pulled over his hand. She looked up at him. His mouth was set in a grim line. He looked like he was in pain.
"What happened?" She asked before she could stop herself. Behind him George shot her a warning look, but before he could answer, Fred beat him to it.
"Umbridge happened." He ground out through gritted teeth.
Lee got up to clap his friend on the shoulder "Bloody hell mate; you look like you've eaten an entire tub of puking pastilles." He paused to think about this "You didn't, did you?"
Fred continued to stare down at Jules, who couldn't tear her eyes away from the fury on his face. He looked ill, but incensed.
"Don't let her catch you with that again." He jerked his head toward the Walkman to emphasise his point before stalking away toward the staircase leading to the boys' dormitories leaving Jules, Lee and George staring after him.
X
Jules lay in bed, turning the Walkman over and over again in her hands. The dormitory was dark and quiet, her roommates sound asleep with their curtains pulled.
What had happened during Fred's detention with Umbridge to make him so angry? The woman was odious, there was no doubt about it - but surely she had to observe certain rules when it came to disciplining her charges? Jules felt a pang of guilt that she tried to ignore when she pictured Fred's pale face when he had come back into the common room that night. You didn't make him tell Umbridge that the Walkman was his, she told herself fiercely, and it's not your fault he got more than he bargained for in the detention with the nasty little Toad.
Aside from the frosty reception she already received from everyone in her house, Jules had always had a particularly tense relationship with the Weasley twins and their crowd. Jules knew that they were friendly with Harry Potter, the Fifth Year whose name had been famous before he could even spell it. What's more, there was little love lost between Harry and most Slytherins that he had met. The twins protected Harry as fiercely as though he were another brother. It was probably one of their only redeeming qualities, in Jules' eyes. It was a well known fact that Harry had nobody else in the world to look out for him - something he sorely needed, given how much trouble he managed to attract.
Jules shifted uncomfortably as she remembered watching in horror with the rest of the school mere months before when Harry had turned up in the centre of the Triwizard maze clutching the dead body of their classmate and telling anyone who would listen that Voldemort had returned. Jules and Moira had found each other in the chaos that followed and had clung together crying.
Well, Jules had cried. Moira had embraced her friend tightly, her mouth set in a thin line, the occasional tear spilling from her brimming eyes. Neither had known Cedric particularly well; it was more the shock and fear that Harry's announcement had inspired. In the years that Jules and Moira had been friends, the subject of whether Voldemort may return to power had been something to be avoided. Far from the conversation but clearly not from either of their minds, they had cordoned it off alongside such topics as how much easier both their daily lives would be if they stopped being friends.
But that day, when Professor Dumbledore announced to them that not only had Lord Voldemort returned to power, but that the Ministry of Magic had tried to stop him from telling them, a shadow had been cast - one that they could no longer hide from.
'The truth is generally preferable to lies.' the headmaster had said and although hearing it had shaken Jules to her very core, she had to agree. The knowledge that their government would actively doctor the truth gave her a feeling of disquiet that she couldn't easily put to the back of her mind. Her father was a History Professor at a muggle university who specialised in Twentieth Century Conflicts. While other little girls had played with dolls and Wendy Houses, Jules had grown up learning about tanks and rationing and digging for victory and latterly, concentration camps and propaganda and governments trying to control the people they had pledged to serve. When she was ten, her father had dragged Jules and her mother to Dacchau in Poland one family holiday and pointed to the memorial.
"You see, Juliet?" He had asked, and Jules had noted the near-desperate edge to his voice, almost as though he was pleading with her to see what he was trying to say "Do you see what happens when people decide to imagine that some are more valuable than others because of some random trait that cannot be helped?"
Later that same year, they had gotten the diagnosis: metastatic lung cancer. Her father, her dear and gentle father who was a bit older and more sensible than all of her friends' fathers but surpassed all of them in Jules's eyes, was dying. In a matter of weeks, he shrank into himself, needed help to get dressed and to eat. Jules stayed home from school and sat by the bed, holding his hand and asking him any and all of the questions she could think of, desperate for his opinion on everything. She had never before felt the cruel way that time can drain away like water down a plug hole. Her father had a way of positioning the world that made sense to her, and so to ask him a lifetime's worth of questions in the space of a few weeks seemed like her only option. He listened patiently, propped up against his pillows, never rushing her, never treating her queries as asinine or boring. His answers, in comparison to her fraught questions were well thought out, sage and leisurely.
He died the night before her eleventh birthday. Now, each year, the thud of her school letter hitting the table in front of her brought back visceral memories of sitting in the kitchen, eyes swollen shut from crying and a dull ache in her chest that would never completely go away. Jules had always known there was a chance that she would be a witch like her mother, but she couldn't help but remember her father's words as she had stood for the first time on Platform Nine and Three Quarters and wondered if that was what he had been trying to tell her. That magic or no magic, everyone deserved to be treated fairly and you couldn't rely on one piece of information about a person to act as a barometer for the rest of their personality.
Which was why she didn't care what anybody thought of her for having a Slytherin as a best friend. Moira was the first person she had met on the Hogwarts express – the tiny dark-haired beauty had been humming to herself and staring out of the window and Jules had immediately been drawn to the tuneful sound, asking if they could sit together. They had giggled uncontrollably when a chocolate frog got out of its packaging and wriggled up the trouser leg of an unsuspecting second year. When the Sorting Hat had placed them in different houses, Jules had been disappointed but had still sought Moira out in their first Potions lesson.
Moira had stared at her wide-eyed as Jules had jumped onto the stool next to her "I didn't think you'd want to be friends with me anymore."
Jules had frowned at her "Why, are you really bad at potions or something?"
Moira didn't have time to answer before a tall pinched looking boy in Slytherin robes approached their bench
"Slytherins don't associate with Gryffindors," He said, with the patronising air of someone who thought he was providing helpful advice to an imbecile "They're different. It's just not done."
Jules felt her face flush. Behind the boy, on the other side of the room, she could see her fellow Gryffindors nudging each other and whispering. The redheaded twins she had watched messing around at breakfast were staring at her, perplexed. It was clear that they felt the same as the Slytherin boy. Gryffindors and Slytherins should be kept separate. She glanced at Moira, who was glaring at the Slytherin boy who had spoken to them.
"Go away, Justin." She muttered.
Justin raised an eyebrow "You should take my advice, Moira. Slytherins don't mix with witches and wizards who are… beneath them. It's just always been that way." There was that patronising smile again. Jules clenched her fists beneath the table.
"Well I suppose if it's always been that way, we should start burning people at the stake again shouldn't we? Maybe we could take the vote away from women?" She spat sarcastically, staring Justin down. She heard Moira snort next to her. Justin glared back at her, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He seemed to be deciding whether or not to respond. Eventually, he turned on his heel and stalked away, but not before throwing a mutter of "Blood-Traitor…" over his shoulder at Moira. Jules was momentarily worried that after all that Moira might not want to be friends with her, but her fears were immediately assuaged when the other girl stuck her tongue out at Justin's retreating back.
And just like that, an unshakeable bond was formed. It didn't matter that there was only two of them – it never seemed lonely because they never stopped talking. The only thing they had ever disagreed on was The Weird Sisters versus Pulp.
Sighing, Jules slipped the headphones on and pressed 'Play' on the song that Lee Jordan had chosen for them to work on for Muggle Studies, allowing herself a small grin at the ridiculousness of it. He had better have a good ear.
X
"Can you meet me later?" Jules cut right to the chase at breakfast the next morning, slamming her bag down next to a still-dozing Lee and causing him to jump three feet in the air. He glared at Jules.
"You are annoyingly awake for what is still ostensibly the middle of the night."
Jules poured herself a cup of coffee "Early nights. You should try them."
Lee flicked a piece of pastry at her "Being cool. You should try it."
Jules sighed "Are we doing this or not? I know you need a good mark for this one because you didn't do the kitchen appliance essay-"
"-I've never even heard of a Micro-whatsit, it was a totally unreasonable request!" Lee interjected irritably.
"Whatever. The point is, you need to do well on this. So can you meet me later on to practice, or what?" Lee slumped in his chair and gave her a defeated nod. Jules took a triumphant sip of coffee and began to butter some toast when she saw the Weasley twins approaching, both suffering from a severe case of bedhead and seemingly as tired as Lee. Jules wondered what they had been up to the previous night to make them all so tired. Fred still looked pale under his freckles, she noticed. Neither twin acknowledged her presence as they slid into their seats, George immediately reaching for any food he could lay his hands on. His twin however hung back, looking a little nauseated. Lee gave his friend a concerned look.
"Still feeling it, man?" Fred only gave a nod in response.
Jules frowned and opened her mouth before she could stop herself "Feeling what?"
Fred's eyes darted over to her as if he were only noticing she was there for the first time. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat "Nothing." He said shortly, unconsciously pulling on the sleeve of his robes. Jules reached across and grabbed his wrist as she had done the day before. Fred hissed in pain and recoiled but not before Jules got a good look at his hand.
"What does that say? 'I must not' what?"
Fred quickly pulled his sleeve back down and glared at her "It says 'I must not be disorderly in my conduct."
Jules stared at him for a moment, perplexed and trying to think where she had heard those words before when she remembered Umbridge sentencing Fred to detention the day before. She gasped.
"She did this to you?"
Fred didn't say anything, but he refused to meet her eyes. Jules leaned forward and lowered her voice "You have to tell someone!"
"Tell who, Spencer?" George asked around a mouthful of toast "She works for the Ministry!"
"Dumbledore doesn't answer to the Ministry!"
"Which is why he can't be seen to be making her life difficult." Fred said quietly "The Ministry would have no problem getting rid of Dumbledore. He's already treading a fine line with them. Just…" he sighed and shook his head "Just don't worry about it, OK? We'll get our own back."
Jules stared at him for a moment, studying the grim set of his mouth, the lack of colour in his cheeks. She thought about how raw his hand had looked – had he lost a lot of blood? The same guilty feeling from the night before surfaced. Even if she hadn't asked for Fred Weasley's help he had for whatever reason, chosen to give it. And this had been his reward. Making a snap decision, she pointed her wand at an empty goblet and whispered a spell to make it fill. She passed it over the table to Fred.
"Here. Drink this."
Fred eyed the goblet suspiciously "What is it?"
"Pure orange juice. It's got sugar in it to perk you up and vitamin C to help absorb the iron you're going to get from the scrambled eggs you should be eating." Jules piled some eggs onto a plate for him and passed them over before retrieving her bag "Also try some dark chocolate." She slung her bag over her shoulder and left before any of them could reply, making a mental note to send an owl to her mother later.
