Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Six: Breaking the Silence
The week following "The Incident" (as it had been dubbed by Evangeline after Lily and Isabelle had taken to smacking her in the arm every time she mentioned a certain group of boys by name) was highly uncomfortable, to say the least. Both parties avoided one another like the plague, which proved somewhat difficult at times thanks to the fact that they were in the same house and shared most of their classes. Lily and Isabelle went out of their way to evade James and Remus despite Evangeline's claims that they were "only making it even more obvious than it already was" and "being stupid". They had taken to diving into empty classrooms whenever said Gryffindor boys were around, and once, in a panicked realization that there were no classrooms in sight, they had squashed themselves behind a tapestry, leaving Evangeline to stand stupidly by herself in the corridor and give Remus a cheesy smile and wave when he passed.
While she tended to roll her eyes at her friends' avoidance techniques, Evangeline secretly didn't mind that she had yet another reason to avoid Black. He had become, if possible, even more hostile since the incident. During the course of the week, he had tripped her up a record total of thirty-four times, publicly humiliated her twice and seemed to have an infinite supply of evil glares to throw her way.
Maybe it was the stress of the week, or perhaps it was due to the sickeningly perfumed air of the divination classroom, but Evangeline was fighting a stronger than usual urge to sleep as she struggled to absorb the quavering trill that was Althea Trelawney's voice. The batty old professor was currently demonstrating a crystal ball reading for Peter Pettigrew, who was her favourite target because he tended to believe everything that she said without question.
"Alas!" she said dramatically. "A red moon rises upon the horizon. Danger is near!" As she thrust the swirling glass sphere under his nose for effect, Peter gave a small yelp. "My dear," Trelawney continued in a voice that was grave nearly to the point of ridiculousness, "There is something else in here... yes, I can see it now."
Evangeline stared with a deadpan expression, musing that watching students squirm as you predicted their deaths was a very, very odd way to get your kicks. To Trelawney, the anxiety of Peter's face seemed to be a sort of drug. She was smiling gleefully, wrinkles marring her cheeks and disappearing into the sides of her bejeweled turban.
"What is it, Professor?" Pettigrew asked in a very small voice.
Trelawney gazed regretfully at his round face. "It pains me to say, my dear, but it is... The Grim."
Evangeline snorted at the professor's shawl-covered back. "Okay seriously," she hissed to Isabelle, "is she still using that one on us? That's just pathetic."
"I'm more concerned about the fact that Pettigrew still believes it," the blonde replied. Across the way, Peter looked terrified. Remus, who was sitting on the adjacent pouf, was attempting to console him while fighting against laughter. He patted him awkwardly on the back and then shook his head, turning back to his own work. Isabelle kept watching as his eyes trailed from his notes to his crystal ball, back to the parchment and then made an alright, mate? expression in Peter's direction.
What she wasn't expecting was for the next destination to be her own face. She froze instantly when he caught her staring, completely unprepared for the flood of emotions that overcame her. Remus swallowed, a strange, pained look in his golden eyes, and Isabelle shivered. He's only feeling sorry for you. An irritating voice somewhere in the back of her mind voiced her greatest fear. He knows you like him now thanks to that stupid game and he doesn't like you back.
Isabelle tore her eyes away immediately; she didn't need his pity.
It was then that she noticed the repetitive thud that was shaking the desk under her elbows. Evangeline was hunched over, banging her forehead against the table in a steady rhythm.
"Stop it, you're going to lose brain cells," Isabelle said, sticking a hand out so that the next time Eva's head came down, it fell flat onto her palm.
Evangeline looked over, her hair astray and her expression morose. "Brain cells are a lost cause in this class anyway."
"That's..." Isabelle deflated. "...sadly true."
With a grunt, Evangeline crossed her arms and lowered them onto the table, plonking her head down and turning to stare up with glassy blue eyes. "D'you think she'd notice if I fell asleep?"
Isabelle considered. "Probably."
"Well then... I dunno, just tell her that I'm in a mystical trance or something."
"Miss Hansen!" A blur of shawls and beads swooped down upon them like a shrivelled, ornamented bat. The amount of perfume in the air was almost painful to the nostrils. "This is a classroom, not a dormitory."
Eva sat up and rubbed her eyes. "My mistake, I apologize," she monotoned.
Trelawney gazed at her coolly, eyes matching the onyx-black gems in her turban. "Your aura is fading, dear."
Isabelle, mostly for selfish reasons that involved a fear of her only companion in this class being asked to leave, decided to speak up. "Eva was actually just telling me about a strange dream she's been having. We were wondering if it might mean something."
Bingo. Trelawney's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly at the exhilarating prospect of dream analysis. "Ahh, how intriguing. Dreams are the pathways to our inner souls, if only we can reach far enough to free ourselves. What visions have been gracing your slumber, my dear?"
Evangeline blinked. "Oh. Er, well. I get this one a lot where I'm flying over London and my broom turns to marshmallow..."
By the end of the lesson, Trelawney had forgotten all about reprimanding Evangeline for sleeping during class and had deduced from the marshmallow dream that she was riddled with anxiety about her family and would likely suffer a tragically premature death.
"We need to ditch that class," Eva lamented as she and Isabelle hurried down the spiral staircase. "I can actually feel my brain leaking out of my head."
"At least it's entertaining," said Isabelle. "Sometimes."
They were just round the corner at the end of the stairs when a loud "What's up, chicken butts?" met their ears. It was Lily, who was filing out of her Ancient Runes classroom and wearing a huge grin.
"I always feel like I should take offence at that greeting," said Evangeline.
"It's funny and it rhymes," Lily said. "I like it. How was Abomination?" It was what Lily had taken to calling Trelawney's class the previous year, and no one could dispute its suitability.
"Abominable," Evangeline replied. "My head's killing me from that sodding incense."
"My back hurts from those stupid sofas," Isabelle added.
"Trelawney predicted my untimely death."
"Okay, really," Lily said, "Why on earth are you still taking this class?"
A slight pause. "It's still better than doing actual work," Evangeline admitted.
"Oh..." Isabelle stopped suddenly. "Oh no..." She searched through all of her pockets and rifled through her bag. "I think I left my wand up there."
Evangeline frowned. "You'd better go rescue it. Trelawney might mistake it for a mystical tea-stirring stick or something."
"Do you want us to come?" Lily asked, but Isabelle shook her head.
"No, I'll get it, don't worry. I'll meet you in the Great Hall, 'kay?"
The good news was that Isabelle managed to find her wand without encountering Trelawney. The bad news was that she'd bumped into Remus and Peter on the way up the tower. The boys had been loping down the stairs as she hurried back up, and she felt her cheeks blaze as she brushed past, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her head ducked. It was so incredibly stupid, but she was past the point of trying to rationalize this behaviour. It was what it was.
In the end, she practically ran from the classroom, hoping to escape before Trelawney appeared and tried to cleanse her aura or something. Luck, however, was not on her side. She was clearing the last of the spiralling steps when a quavering voice floated downwards.
"I sense a malignant presence." Trelawney was halfway down the stairs, clutching the railing and squinting in Isabelle's direction. "Who is there?"
Isabelle bit her lip. Just walk away. Pretend you didn't hear her.
Unfortunately, Trelawney had already seen her. Or at least, she was trying to see her.
"Who's there?" she repeated sharply, readjusting her spectacles. "Is it you, great spirit of Lady Carallyn?" She took a few more steps.
It all happened very quickly from that moment, and Isabelle was powerless to stop it. Trelawney, blind as a bat, took one step too many and missed the foothold.
A short, stunned scream errupted from Isabelle's mouth, and her hands flew upward to cover it. She reached frantically for her wand, jamming her hands into all the wrong pockets and watching in horror as the woman tumbled down the staircase, beaded necklaces clashing against one another as she hit every step with a sickening clinking noise.
"Professor!" Isabelle shrieked, dropping her books and rushing towards the motionless pile of shawls sprawled out at the foot of the stairs. Please don't let her be dead. Please don't let her be dead… She repeated the silent prayer frantically as she fell to her knees. Trelawney groaned and rolled over, looking oddly vulnerable without her glasses.
Footsteps and a masculine gasp penetrated the silence, and Isabelle spun to see two figures silhouetted against the massive stained glass window. Remus and Peter.
"Er, hi," Remus breathed. His hair was windswept, and in combination with the way Peter was doubled over, it appeared they had just been sprinting an Olympic dash. "Was that you screaming?"
Peter tried to straighten up. "Told you it was nothing. Why'd you make us run all the way from—"
Remus elbowed his friend harshly but discretely and Peter closed his mouth, though it may have simply been that he had inadequate oxygen supplies to carry on speaking.
Isabelle's mind was whirring. She thought she might be in shock. Could they not see the partially unconscious heap of wool and tassels in front of her? "It's..." She moved to the side, unblocking Trelawney's body from view.
"Merlin!" Remus took a forward reflexively. "What happened?"
"She fell down the stairs," replied Isabelle in a tone that was strangely detached.
Remus covered the distance between them quickly and dropped to his knees beside her. Peter followed, but kept his distance, gaping stupidly at Trelawney with his mouth hanging open. As though by reflex, Isabelle shifted away from Remus slightly, putting more space between them. If he noticed this, he didn't show it. He reached out and took Trelawney's wrist, presumably to check for a pulse. Isabelle could have told him that she had moved a second ago, but her throat was tight for some reason and she didn't trust herself to say anything.
Neither of them was prepared for what happened next.
As soon as Remus' fingers made contact with Trelawney's skin, her eyes flew open and she grabbed his arm in a frighteningly sudden motion. Isabelle gasped, Peter let out a girly shriek and Remus attempted to free his wrist, but to no avail. Her fingers were clamped around it in a vicelike grip, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.
"A grave misfortune approaches…" she spoke suddenly in a hoarse, grating that caused the hairs on Isabelle's arms to rise. "As the day becomes the night eight will lose their way and the earth will take two prisoners… A winged beast will be the harbinger of destruction and the magic will fail when it is needed most, but the fighters will prevail under the guidance of courage and warmth… A fierce battle will bridge a gap created many years ago… As the morrow dawns, the saviour will emerge from the mist..."
Trelawney released her death grip on Remus' wrist and blinked slowly, as though she had just woken from a deep sleep.
"Professor…?" Isabelle's voice was barely a whisper.
Trelawney sat up, looking dazed and mildly disoriented. "Where am I?" she wondered, looking between Isabelle and Remus in confusion. Her glasses lay on the ground beside her, smashed to bits.
"You… You had a bad fall," Isabelle explained in a shaky voice. Remus was examining his wrist with a stupefied expression, as though trying to figure out if he was dreaming.
"Aurelia? Is that you?" Trelawney said randomly, squinting at a stone gargoyle
"No, I'm Peter. Peter Pettigrew," Peter surprised everyone by speaking, clearly thinking himself helpful, but merely adding to the confusion.
"Professor, I think we should get you to the hospital wing," advised Remus, ignoring Peter's stupidity.
Trelawney had already stumbled to her feet. "No, no…" she muttered distractedly. "Lesson in ten minutes… must prepare the tea…"
"Reparo," muttered Isabelle, mending the damaged glasses with a flick of her wand. "Here," she said, holding them out for her teacher to take. It took the visually-impaired professor five attempts to locate them and pick them up, and then an entire ten seconds to put them on properly without stabbing herself in the eye.
"Professor, what did you mean by all that?" asked Remus.
Trelawney blinked at him. "By what, Mr. Lumpin?" Peter let out an odd sort of choked cough at this horrendous mispronunciation.
"You said something about a 'winged beast'," Isabelle stepped in impatiently, reciting the first line that came to mind.
Trelawney looked between her and Remus as though they were crazy (sort of ironic, thought Isabelle). "I have no idea what you are talking about, my dear. Perhaps you mistook the voices of the third realm for my own."
"I don't think—"
"I cannot stay long, my child. I have another class coming in…"
"I—you—but—" Remus sputtered.
"Find your way to class now. Do not be led astray by the malevolent spirits…" And with that, she staggered up the stairs, leaving them standing, bewildered, at the bottom.
"Well, that was… weird," Remus finally said.
Peter smirked. "You're right about that, Mr. Lumpin." He mocked Trelawney's version of the name in an annoying singsong voice.
"Shut up, Pete."
Isabelle saw their bickering as a means of escape. She began to back away slowly. "Well, um, I should… get back so I can… pack," she said lamely, avoiding Remus' eyes.
Remus stared at the ground. "Yeah… me—I mean us—too," he replied hastily, jamming his hands into his pockets.
"Right. Well, I'll see you then."
It was only as she sped off down the corridor and her brain began to function normally again that Isabelle realised three things:
1. Professor Trelawney had quite possibly just made a real prediction.
2. She had just spoken to Remus for the first time in seven days.
3. The avoidance technique had obviously failed miserably, because she was still hopelessly, head-over-heels besotted with a certain sandy haired Marauder.
"How come Lily's done packing already?" Evangeline whined to no one in particular, regarding her own half-full suitcase with disdain.
Lily rolled her eyes and threw a pair of snitch-patterned socks into her friend's bag. "I am not even going to answer that."
Evangeline's eyebrows contracted in confusion. "Why not?" she asked, much to her friend's chagrin. Lily threw the next pair of balled up socks, a hideous combination of banana yellow and coarse wool, at Evangeline's head.
"Hey!" she said indignantly.
Isabelle scoffed loudly. "Eva, why didn't you just get your packing done last night like everyone else?" She passed over a pile of carefully folded clothes, which Evangeline proceeded to dump unceremoniously into her suitcase.
"Too much homework."
"Right, and that 'homework' involved sneaking out to the kitchens for pie and playing five rounds of gobstones with Alice." Lily raised a brow sarcastically.
Evangeline crossed her arms. "I was hungry. And it wasn't just rounds, it was a tournament. Besides, Dumbledore said that they'd given us the rest of the day off to pack, so that's what I'm doing."
Approximately two hours had elapsed since the Trelawney incident and the seventh years were organising the last of their belongings for the Defence Against the Dark Arts camp, which they would be leaving for later that day. They'd been given the afternoon off in order to prepare, and the mounting excitement was spreading throughout the girls' dormitories like some sort of giddy plague.
"Besides," added Isabelle, who had stopped bothering to fold Evangeline's clothes and was flinging them into the suitcase one by one. "Lily and I are pretty much doing your packing for you anyways. I don't know what you're complaining about."
Evangeline gave a sheepish grin. "I know. You know I love you." Her expression changed. "Speaking of looove..."
Isabelle groaned and slumped over on Eva's bed, burying her face in the pillow.
"Eva, if you bring this up one more time today I will set fire to your trunk," Lily warned. "Besides, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm not even sure if I… oh my god!" She stopped mid-sentence with a look of having just remembered something of desperate importance.
"What?" Isabelle and Evangeline asked in unison.
Lily jumped up quickly from the bed. "I completely forgot… Damn! I'll be right back…" She practically sprinted from the room, leaving her friends to exchange worried expressions.
"Ookaay…"
Lily wasn't entirely sure why she was standing outside of the boys' dormitories with her hand hovering near the door, poised to knock.
She knew it had something to do with a memory which had been sparked at the almost-mention of Potter's name earlier, but the adrenaline coursing through her body was stopping her from thinking straight. Never mind the fact that she'd been going out of her way to avoid James for a week straight, or that she was wearing an old T-shirt over rolled up sweat pants. She was acting an impulse that she couldn't really explain.
"Maybe we should go for an earlier time. Four-thirty?"
He had rescheduled their meeting… and she had completely forgotten about it. Lily could just see him waiting around for hours without her showing up, and for some reason the thought made her feel incredibly guilty. Why hadn't he said anything to her? She felt compelled to apologise, or at least explain herself.
Gritting her teeth, she gave a hesitant knock. The immediate response was a muffled scurrying sound from inside the dormitory.
"Who is it?" she heard Sirius call out.
"Er… it's Lily," she replied, suddenly feeling very foolish.
"Who?" Came Sirius' shocked response, as though he couldn't believe his ears.
Lily rolled her eyes. "Lily. Lily Evans. I need to talk to Potter!"
Unbeknownst to the occupants of the dormitory, their response carried out crystal clear into the corridor.
"Prongs! Prongs! It's Evans!"
There was a crash. "What? Are you serious?"
"Of course he's Sirius! Who else would he be?"
"Ugh, seriously Pete! This is NOT the time!"
"Um… Just give us a second!" Remus shouted overtop of the bickering.
"Just hide the cloak under Wormtail's bed…"
"There's not enough room!"
"Pete, would you get up and help us?"
"Crap! Where should I put these?"
"There's some space by the bookshelf…"
"Hey Lily." The door burst open suddenly to reveal a very eager James Potter wearing a huge, face-splitting grin. His hair was lightly mussed but otherwise he looked cool and casual in his t-shirt and black jeans. The other three occupants of the dormitory stood awkwardly in the background—Sirius with his hands behind his back, Remus frantically jamming something that looked like an old scrap of parchment inside his trunk and Peter putting on a pretentious smile, as though trying to feign innocence. Lily decided she didn't even want to know what they had been doing when she knocked. She cleared her throat.
"Right. Hi. I just wanted to say sorry for the other night."
James blinked. "The other night?"
"I've had so much going on lately and it completely slipped my mind and—"
"Hang on, what?"
"—I feel quite bad, so I wanted to apologize." Lily stopped abruptly, finally taking in the way James' eyes were squinted and his lips were slightly parted. "Why are you making that face?"
James pressed his lips shut. "I just... have no idea what you're on about."
A few seconds of silence ticked by, and it was like the countdown to a bomb detonation.
"Are you serious?" Lily's words came out less like a question and more like a very irritated deadpan.
"...Yes?"
"The meeting, you idiot."
Recognition filled every crevice of his face. "Ahh." He lifted his chin into the air. Then, he started laughing. "Yeah, I forgot as well."
"You've got to be kidding me. How could you forget?"
"Didn't you just come here to tell me that you forgot?"
"Yes, but at least I remembered that I forgot."
"Well I forgot that I forgot!"
Lily let a noise of frustration burst from her chest. "I can't believe I even bothered apologize."
"It was very thoughtful."
"Well I'm retracting my apology, prat. You don't deserve it anymore."
"Will you two just kiss already?" Sirius called out from the background. "The tension is getting painful."
"Oi, go do your potions essay, you tosser." James' cheeks were slightly red. Resetting his shoulders, he grabbed Lily's wrist. "C'mere," he muttered, pulling her out into the corridor and letting the door slam behind them.
"Ouch," Lily pried his fingers away in a reflex response that was akin to how a person might react to finding an enormous leach on their skin.
James released her immediately. "Sorry," he said, running a hand through his untidy hair. "Sometimes getting away from Sirius requires drastic action. Er, I guess we should arrange to meet some other time, then?" He phrased it as more of a question than a statement.
Lily took a deep breath. "Right… I was going to suggest Tuesday, after the camp."
A stupid, dog-like whimper interrupted their conversation from inside the dormitory, followed by scratching against the wooden door.
James groaned. "Padfoot, would you get lost, please?"
There was a muffled cackle, and then Sirius' footsteps could be heard retreating back into the room.
"Sorry about him." James offered an apology for his mate's behaviour. "He gets like that when he's had too much sugar. Well, any amount of sugar, really. So, Tuesday then?"
Lily nodded. "Head's Room?"
James was about to open his mouth when suddenly, the door creaked open. Sirius' face emerged from the narrow crack, along with one arm, grasped at the end of which was his wand.
"What are you...?"
A rustling sound above their heads caused James and Lily's attention to be diverted, and they both glanced upwards just in time to see a twisting sprig of mistletoe erupt from the plaster.
"Okay seriously, what the hell?" James said in exasperation.
Sirius wore his best shit-eating grin. "Only trying to help."
"I don't know what you're trying to imply," Lily said testily, "but it's not even remotely close to Christmas, and therefore, your point is moot."
Sirius raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. "Don't get all intelligent with me and shit, Evans,"
"Fine then, I'll dumb it down. GET LOST."
"Harsh."
"Your efforts to help are appreciated," James consoled him. "But please shut the fuck up."
Sirius heaved a dramatic sigh. "The thanks I get for being a kind, helpful person... S'no secret that James has been arse over elbow in lov—"
James had lifted his arm out to slap across his mate's mouth. He looked murderous. "Sorry Lily," he said. "Tuesday in the Head's Room, yeah? I'll see you then."
And with that, he shoved Sirius' head back into the dorm and followed him inside.
A/N: Well, I lied… the DADA camp was going to start in this chapter, but I decided to split it in half because it was approaching 9000 words when I was only three quarters of the way through writing it. I am SO sorry for the ridiculously long wait. Turns out people weren't joking when they said year twelve was torture. I've basically spent this year doing study, study, and more study… with a bit of writing here and there. Chapter six was written very sporadically and I have to admit I'm a little out of practice, so I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standards.
On the bright side, school is OVER! And you know what that means… I have plenty of time for writing again!
You could leave a review to pass the time if you wanted… wink, wink, nudge, nudge… :D
-Liz