A/N: So, yeah… well, hi, it's me again. This chapter is a bit longer that my previous ones, so I hope that's a good thing. I really didn't get all that I wanted into this chapter but I thought it was getting too long, so I changed it so that what I initially wanted in this chapter got put into the next one. But, anyway…happy reading!
"Lily? Lil's?" asks a voice from directly above me.
I groan and open my eyes; thankfully the curtains are still drawn so I'm not blinded by the natural light. Slowly a face comes into focus.
"James?" I murmur groggily.
"Yeah," he replies, smiling timidly.
"Uh, where am I?" I demand, rubbing my eyes and sitting up carefully; making sure that I don't move the duvet too far down so that my body's not exposed to the cold morning air.
My trackies and t-shirt that I was wearing last night are crumpled up under the bed sheets, and I can feel my knotted mess of tangled hair slithering messily down my neck.
I pull the duvet up to my chin and snuggle into it. Oh my God it smells amazing…I'm not completely sure what of, but if I was never able to move again, I would be perfectly content. If I concentrate really hard, the smell of the outdoors and honey come to mind, but they're only a few of the hypnotising scents.
"Um, you fell asleep talking to Jack last night. So I carried you and put you in my bed, seen as I couldn't get into your dorm; not that I didn't try. There seemed to be a party of some sort in there; lots of screaming and laughing. There was no way that you were going to be able to sleep through that. So I brought you back to our dorm and let you sleep in here where it was – strangely – quieter. And don't worry, I slept on the floor," he adds quickly, probably to try and stop me from exploding and yelling at him; not that I possibly could explode anyway. The look on his face is soo innocent and cute (we are not going to discuss the fact that I associated the word cute with James, alright?).
"Oh, thank you. But you know, you could've left me and let me sleep on the floor. You shouldn't have had to give up your bed," I say, feeling a bit guilty; also slightly embarrassed. How can his bed smell so good?
"I know. But I wanted to. And you've had a bad enough week as it is, without having a bad back," he says sadly.
"And it's about to get a whole lot worse," I sigh and pull him into sitting down on the bed next to me.
"You'll be alright. You're strong," he promises, squeezing my arm reassuringly.
"No, I'm not," I admit defeated.
"Yes, you are. Hell, you're one of the strongest people I know! You are going to go to that church, put up with your sister, mourn your parents and talk with your Muggle relations. You…can…do…this," James assures, looking me in the eyes and taking one of my hands in his.
"I'll try…anyway; I have to be strong for them. It's what they would've wanted," I agree eventually.
"Yes, they wouldn't have wanted you to be miserable."
"How do you know what they would've wanted? You never met them."
"You must take after them, seen as they were your parents. And any people who you take after must be something special. They must have been extraordinary people."
I smile sadly and rest my head on his shoulder. "They were the best, understanding, supportive people I knew. They put up with the fact that I'm a witch, and even though my sister hates me, they always stood up for me. I'm going to miss them so much. And going to the funeral somehow just makes it more final. They're gone, and they aren't coming back," I half whisper.
James pulls me into a hug and I snuggle into him and his warmth; a more concentrated version of that smell welcomes me and – for just a second – I realise how blinded I must have been not to see this amazing person for who he is, rather than the arrogant toe-rag façade he wears.
"You are so brave," he murmurs, stroking my hair soothingly. "I don't know how you're dealing with this so well. No matter how miserable or distressed you're feeling, you get up and carry on like normal. I would be a complete mess and a wreck! Sirius would probably have to drag me out of be in the mornings."
"As if Sirius would get up before you!" I giggle weakly.
"That's true. I mean, look at him! There could be an explosion right next to him and it still wouldn't get him up."
This time I really do laugh at James's words as we both turn to look at our sleeping friend in the bed next to us.
Sirius is lying – no…sprawled – on his bed, half-in half-out of the covers. He's curled up in a way that can only be described as canine, with his mouth wide open. He's only wearing a pair of neon yellow boxers with: 'Sex God' written all over them, and he's snoring so loudly that he's making enough noise to rival a mountain troll! How girls can find him irresistible, I don't know!
I examine the clock on James's besides table and sigh. "Well, somebody's going to have to wake them all up."
"How about you take Remus, Jack and Pete; and I try Sleeping Beauty over here?" he suggests after a second, with a casual nod in Sirius' direction; the strange thing is that he's given me the easy job!
"OK," I shrug casually, walking over to Remus's bed. "Remy, come on, it's time to get up," I say, gently nudging him by the shoulder; he just groans before rolling over and falling back into a deep sleep. "Remus, don't make me get Anna up here," I warn, referring to his ex-girlfriend from Ravenclaw.
My threat does the job. His eyes fly open and he jumps out of bed. "I'm up!" he exclaims, looking scared.
"Well done. Good morning, Mr Wolf," I smirk.
He smiles back and hugs me lightly. "Morning, Bambi. Sleep well?"
"Yes. You?" I ask.
"Yeah," he sighs, grabbing his clothes and making for the bathroom, closing the door loudly behind him. It's not like it's actually going to wake anyone up anyway! This lot could sleep though one of my Sisters' 'You're such a freak, Lily!' rants, and that's saying something.
I have known that Remus is a werewolf for a while now; since 1st year, to be exact. I've known for a long time but I my theory was supported even more in 5th year, when we were both made Prefects. I put two and two together when he was never around when it was the full moon.
Even though I was pretty sure about what he was, I never told anybody about my revelation, not even Remus himself… well, not until last week, anyway.
I sat him down in the library and we talked it through. The reason I chose the library was because I'm not entirely sure that the rest of the Marauders know exactly where and what the library is; it was a safe place where nobody would disturb us. After a little interrogation, he admitted that I was right. I assured him wholeheartedly that he'd always be the safe old Remus to me. He is my friend and I know that he would never intentionally do anybody any harm.
Also, that was the day that I told somebody my most guarded secret. Nobody knows but him and me; and he's sworn into secrecy to never tell anybody; including the other Marauders. If he tells anyone, I will know and he should sleep with one eye open for the remainder of his life.
After looking at him from every angle, I walk over to Peter's bed. It's a brave move, I have to tell you. The whole area around him is covered in rubbish. There's half eaten food that looks like it could be weeks old, clothing scattered messily everywhere and his trunk has just been tipped out at the foot of the bed.
I jump over the majority of the clutter and make it over to the boy himself. He's lying with his feet where his head should be, the duvet right over his face, it's a surprise he can breathe at all. I pull the top of the sheet down to his shoulders so I can vend down and say loudly in his ear. "Aww, who's a good kitty? Oh, is that a dead rat in your mouth, girl?"
That is all it takes to send him rolling off of the bed, nearly flattening me, and hitting the floor with a loud thud and a squeak. Did I mention the fact that I know they're Animagi? Remus didn't tell me, but like with the werewolf business, I guessed, and I'm pretty sure my theory is bang on.
Jack is the easiest to wake. All I have to do is give him an encouraging hug and tell him to get up. And he did, bless him! Why can't all guys be this nice? And clean, actually…?
Remus, Jack and James's areas are all very tidy, considering the fact that they are all teenage boys. If James's bed was a mess, there is no way that I would have laid there for as long as I did without having a fit. The fact that he is so tidy did actually surprise me. When I first came in here last week, it was a shock to find that James was possibly the tidiest out off all of his friends; even Remus wasn't as neat as him.
After my challenge of Marauder awakening, I turn to check on James's progress on Sirius. It looks like he has tried everything from yelling, firing water at him, and dangling him by his ankles from his bed; but still Sirius somehow manages to carry on sleeping through it all.
I dry Sirius off with a flick of my wand before telling James to get back out of the way. I step back before I charge straight at Sirius and dive on him, putting as much weight on him as I can.
He jumps up in shock, James catches me as I bounce away, and he laughs loudly. Sirius just stands there in shock, in his underwear, completely disorientated, looking at me blankly. "What was that?" he finally asks.
"My version of the 'Get-Padfoot-out-of-bed' routine," I say simply.
"Oh," he replies. "Well, it worked," he offers casually.
I look at James, James looks at me, and we both burst out laughing.
After a minute or so, James finally calms down enough to check his watch and he lets out a low whistle. "Well, Lilyflower, that was the fastest it's ever taken to wake up all of these idiots. I offer you my congratulations for a job well done," he praises.
"Thanks," I smile. "But I really have to go get changed now. I have a funeral to get prepared for," I sigh.
James gives my shoulder a light squeeze as I walk past him out of the room. Then there's a shriek from the bathroom.
"Sirius! You bastard! I've told you time and time again, you twat! Never flush the toilet when I'm in the fucking shower!"
"Remypoo, I've told you time and time again: do not swear; it has a very bad influence over me, seen as you're always informing me that I have the mental capacity of a three year old."
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Half an hour later, I'm ready; showered dressed and fairly presentable. At least my plain black – knee length – dress and coat will keep me warm in the cold church.
Not able to think of anything else to do, I pick up my handbag and leave the dorm; heading down to the common room to wait.
James is already sat down on the sofa with his legs up, taking up the extra room next to him. But that's not what surprises me the most. James Potter, is reading a book.
"Wow, James. Is that an actual real-life book?" I question, falling into the armchair nearest the blazing fire. This chair might as well have 'Lily Evans' scrawled onto it; it's mine. Nobody sits in this chair without facing my wrath, which is something that should be avoided at all costs…just ask James if you don't believe me. Being on my bad side is no fun at all, and he's had his fair share of jinxes aimed at him to prove it.
"Yeah," he says sheepishly. "You must be rubbing off on me."
"You say that as if it's a bad thing," I point out, raising my eyebrows challengingly.
"Oh no, believe me, that's a good thing! You'll help motivate me into getting good grades and studying properly! This is a very good thing!"
"I bet your Mother loves me," I laugh.
"Oh, she would anyway. You should know, Lily: you are always welcome at Potter manor if you ever need anywhere to escape to," he says putting down the book and looking at me.
"Thank you, and somewhere in the holidays I might have to take you up on your offer. There is a ninety-nine-point-nine per cent chance that Petunia's going to be hell this Christmas."
"Well, you can come anytime you want."
I smile thankfully at him and he smiles back.
If I'd been asked to go and stay at James Potter's family's house two weeks ago, I would have laughed and thrown a few jinxes at him for good measure. But now, the thought of going to Potter manor is quite exciting.
I look down at my watch and sigh, just as the hysteria quickly sets in. "James! I-I can't do this! I can't!" I cry desperately, my eyes wide in terror and my balled up fists are shaking violently in terror.
James seems alarmed at my sudden change in temperament but he tries to assure me. "You'll be fine, Lil," he promises gently.
"I won't! Oh my God, what if Petunia blames me! Merlin, it is my fault! They were murdered in a Death Eater attack, James! Death Eaters! If I wasn't magical, they would never have been targeted! It's all my fault that my parents are dead! Why couldn't they just kill me? I'm the Mudblood…"
"Lily, stop! Don't call yourself that name! And don't even think that any of this is remotely your fault! It's not your fault, its Voldemort's. It's not your fault," he repeats.
I sit there shaking, dread overtaking every nerve and cell in my body. Why didn't this occur to me before? There is no way that it's not my fault. The Death Eaters are hunting down Muggleborn's and their families, why didn't I take better care of my family? I should have been there to help them. They shouldn't have died.
"They shouldn't have died," I voice, almost mutely.
"I know," he lulls, pulling me out of my chair, and down next to him.
I weep silently into James's t-shirt as he combs my long hair with his fingers, whilst murmuring words of reassurance to me.
"What time do you have to be in Dumbledore's office for?" he asks.
"Half past ten," I mumble pathetically.
"OK, wait here. I'll be back in a moment," he tells me, standing up and heading towards the boys staircase.
"Where are you going?" I croak quietly.
"To go change," he answers, before running up the stairs – from what I can see as – two at a time.
For a few minutes I just sit there, not moving and not even attempting to stop the steady flow of tears tumbling down my cheeks. I wait for James to come back down, wondering half-heartedly as to why he needed to change. I hope it's not because his t-shirts now stained with my tears.
About five minutes later he appears at the bottom of the staircase. He's now wearing a black t-shirt and trousers, school-shoes and as he walks over to me, he's pulling on a black zip-up jacket. He holds out his hand for me to take.
I give him a questioning look before taking his hand and letting him pull me up off of the sofa and away from the lovely, warm fire. "Why are you dressed like that?" I demand as he walks with me out of the portrait hole.
"Because I'm going to a funeral, and I don't think that it would be very respectful of me to show up in a pair of jeans, hoody and a Quidditch t-shirt," he replies carefully.
"What? Why? You never even met them," I point out, confused.
"I know, but what sort of friend would I be if I just left you? There is no way I can let you go on your own," he says gently.
"Er…thanks, James," I sniff. "You would do this for me?"
"I would do anything for you…and my other friends," he adds after a second.
I pretend not to notice the pause and choose just to smile gratefully at him. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Lilyflower," he replies, matching my smile with his own.
After a few minutes we arrive at Dumbledore's office, I say the password and we walk up the stairs to knock on the door.
"Come in," Dumbledore calls from inside.
James opens the door and holds it open for me so I can walk in first; he then follows, closing it behind him.
Fawkes is perched on the top of a bookcase and wailing quietly to himself, he looks frail and tired. It must be burning day soon; and Dumbledore himself, is sat at his desk. He smiles sadly at me before turning to James by my side. His expression shifts to a little bit more of a happy loon at the sight of us together without physically attacking each other. "I'm glad to see that you two have found friendship in these dark times," he tells us.
"Me too," James says. "It's saved me a whole lot of time that I would usually have spent recovering in the hospital wing," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
I smile weakly, "You were never in there for that long."
"No, but I've spent many hours in my dorm, crying at your cruel, cruel words!" he exclaims, clutching his chest dramatically.
"Don't be a Drama Queen," I giggle.
"I am not a Drama Queen!" he protests, good-naturedly.
"OK, maybe you were dropped on your head as a baby, then," I suggest.
"Very possible," he mulls thoughtfully.
Dumbledore chuckles at our playful banter, and smiles. "Well, either way, I'm sure that my staff are very pleased with your recent lack of fighting."
I can't help but roll my eyes at James's shocked expression at the thought of making the Professors happy. I punch his shoulder lightly in a friendly sort of way.
"Are you ready to go?" Dumbledore says, his face turning sad almost instantly.
"Yes, but would it be OK if James came with me?" I ask hopefully, the idea of having someone there for me will really help a lot; and James really has become my rock since that day.
"Of course, it is a good thing for you to have some of support," he agrees. "When you're ready…" he signals to the fireplace.
James and I both walk over to the – put out – fire before he turns to face me, and asks, "Where are we going exactly?"
"Oh, er…let's just go together," I suggest ducking under the hearth.
"OK, good idea," he agrees, passing me some floor powder out of a box he has in his hands, I wait for him to put the box down and join me in the fireplace before I speak.
I say my home address very clearly and throw down the floo powder, immediately we get consumed within the emerald green flames.
So what did ya think? Was it alright, good, bad, brilliant, or just so bad that there are not enough words to describe how terrible? Either way I'd like to know, I love getting reviews! It tells me that people are actually reading what I'm spending hours writing, and it makes it all worthwhile. It would make me very happy if you just clicked on that little button below and wrote a sentence for me to get excited over receiving! Pleeeease! Or maybe (depending how evil I'm feeling) I will start saying that I will not update until I get X amount if reviews; just a quick warning. But it would be amazing if we could get it up to at least ten reviews by the end of next week. I'm counting on you! I love you all! Until we meet again Xxxx