Hey all -- finally got another chapter to put up... this is a bit different from the others that are up, but I still thought it ought to be up here. PLEASE if you have any little prompts for things the Marauders could do in the Quidditch pitch, send me a PM -- I love prompts and suggestions, and my ideas can only take me so far! ^_^

Maraudette

Just Worry About the Bunnies

There is no freaking reason that I should be up at this hour.

I groan and roll over, blocking out the sound of my owl tap-tap-tapping on my window. Stupid Emmet. Who names their bird Emmet anyways?

Bloody Padfoot, that's who.

He's still tapping on the window with his stupid looking beak. I snap.

"Look, Emmet, you can deliver the mail in the morning like every other –" I start loudly, but then I catch sight of him. "Hell, you're not even my owl! Tess, go around to Lily's window, damn it! Leave me be!"

The bird makes a very hurt sort of sound and swooshes around the tower towards Lily's window. I quite like that word – swoosh. Very... windy sounding.

God, I must be really tired.

I punch my pillow into a good shape and pull my blankets over my head. Maybe I'll be able to get a few hours before tomorrow morning comes around. If I'm lucky.

I'm just starting to drift off – I can see the start of a very good dream involving a few squares of Turkish delight and the Giant Squid -- when I hear a door slamming across the hall, hurried footsteps down the stairs, and the portrait hole creaking open and shut. I sit up straight and look about for my glasses best I can, cause there's no way I'm staying in bed when Lily's up and gone.

Up, gone, and crying.

I pull on a jumper and a pair of pajama trousers (I sleep in my boxers, you dirty minded fools) and my shoes, plus the Map, of course, and my wand. Then I'm out the picture of the Gray Donkey and after her.

Crying scares me. It's one of the things that Lily has never done in front of me, and I was hoping it would never happen. That, and vomiting. Vomiting irritates me.

I take a right at the portrait of Sir Feral (telling him to shut his bloody mouth on the way) and stumble down the hidden staircase behind the tapestry of dancing tutu-loving gnomes. The map says she's heading to the Pitch.

She's out of sight when I finally find my way out of the locker room and onto the field. I left the map back in the locker room when I grabbed my Nimbus, so I can't exactly look for her from the ground. So, as tired as I am, I ruffle my hair and mount and spring into the air.

I do a round of the pitch with nothing. Another – nope. Nothing. Maybe the Map was wrong –

Nah.

I hear something. It sounds like... whimpering. Oh, Merlin.

I find her sitting inside a goal hoop. It's only just barely wide enough for her curled up body to balance on, and it wouldn't be wide enough for a less coordinated person. Her Nimbus is hovering next to her where she'd dismounted.

I land next to her and throw my broom next to hers. "Oh, Lily," I say quietly. She looks up at me – her eyes are red. Dear God.

"They're gone," she croaks. I catch sight of a crumpled letter in her fist. "They're gone."

I see a few fat tears roll down her cheeks. Sighing, I whip out my wand, make the hoop about three feet wider so my fat arse doesn't fall off, and take her against me, my arms around her. It'd be really romantic if she wasn't shaking from crying so hard. Story of my bloody life.

I rub her back and she buries her face against my chest, making my jumper wet with her tears. I don't care. Right now, I want to hurt whoever sent that stupid letter.

She's stopped now. She's just sitting here, with her entire body pressed against me, her eyes even redder than before. I say very quietly, "What's happened to you, hon?"

She squeezes the fist where the parchment envelope is being crushed alive, then hands it to me. I read it silently, and as fast as I can.

To Miss Lily Marie Evans and To Whom It May Concern,

At the time of twenty-three minutes past midnight on the current date, the Muggles Mr. Luke and Mrs. Erin Evans, of number fourteen, Fox River Lane, were killed by the followers of the notorious Dark wizard He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

There is to be a reading of the wills of the above as arranged by the eldest daughter of the deceased, Miss Petunia Lore Evans-Dursley, who will notify those who have been included within the wills at her convenience.

The entirety of the Department of Wizard-Related Muggle Deaths sends their deepest condolences to you, Miss Evans.

Sincerely yours,

Leland Durieux, of the above Department of the Ministry of Magic

Oh Merlin.

Her breathing has slowed down now, and her eyes are shut. I think she may have fallen asleep. My poor, sweet tiger lily. I don't think I've ever felt this sad for anyone in my life.

The two of us sit there, curled against the rim of the hoop, my head resting on the top of hers and my hand rubbing soothing circles on the small of her back. It's all I can think to do.

I never met her parents. We were going to visit them over the Easter holidays, as a surprise, because Lily had met my parents months ago, before we even started dating. She was so excited. Lily's such a little daddy's girl – never stopped talking about her dad and how sweet he is. Was. God, my heart hurts for her.

The sun is rising just over the edge of the Quidditch pitch now, shining through hazy clouds and fuzzy misty bits. I don't have it in my heart to move her. If she wakes up, she'll just start crying again.

"Hmmm…"

What?

I look down at her face – so calm now, without any crying lines on her eyes and without her cheeks all ruddy – and wipe away a single tear on her cheekbone. She's smiling just the faintest line of a smile.

"Hmmm… my knight…"

Someone has a bit of a night-talking issue, I b'lieve.

She settles down one more time in my arms with one hand on my chest and says, "Thank you." Just a simple little pair of words, but it's as sweet as caramel to me. Maybe where she's at, she can pretend that her dad is hugging her again the way that I can never make up for. Maybe her mom is kissing her forehead. Maybe they're watching a movie together, with Lily in her dad's arms and her mom sipping tea like she told me they do.

The sun is just barely peeking over the edge. It's bright in my eyes. I wish I could've stopped him from doing this, I really do. If it was up to me, she'd be sleeping without the worry of waking up to reality.

"Chocolate bunnies are eating me…"

Lord, what kind of dreams is she escaping to?

But I don't care. I just want to be the block against the harshness of the world for her. Just for a little while. Even in my sleep-deprived state I know that much.

So sleep, baby. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise. You'll never have to live through another loved one dying. Just worry about fighting off the chocolate bunnies for now. If it's up to me, that's all you'll ever have to worry about.