A cold face wash and a bit of makeup the next morning went a long way toward concealing the puffiness in her cheeks. To her dismay, there was little she could do about the redness in her eyes or the swollen pouches beneath them but hope that it cleared up soon. Satisfied that she had hidden the evidence of her tears the night before as best she could, Lily headed down to the common room to wait for Aurora and Di pack up their things for the day.
The cozy room was deserted. Everyone was at breakfast already as Lily and Aurora had slept in, and Di had to shower after an early morning Quidditch practice. Lily found the quiet welcome, especially after the raucous evenings when it was filled with the latest Marauder imitators, the Marauders themselves, and students wanting to unwind and socialize.
That was, almost everyone was at breakfast. Across the room, a single occupant stood before the fireplace. Even facing away from her, his silver laced hair was recognizable in the soft morning light. Despite the morning's warmth, a full fire roared in the grate in front of him.
"Good morning, Remus."
At the sound of her voice, his shoulders went rigid and his fist closed around a piece of parchment in his hand. Lily started to apologize for startling him, but he waved it off as he turned toward her.
"I thought you were James or Sirius at first," he told her, giving her a tired smile. "Nothing good ever comes from letting them sneak up on you."
"As we've all learned well," she agreed. "Did I interrupt you?"
"No, I just. It's nothing. A letter. I was just—." The knuckles around the parchment went white as his eyes cast about for what he'd been on the verge of doing. "Burning it. I have to burn it."
Jerkily, he turned and lobbed it into the fire. Toxic green sparks leapt from it as it shriveled in the flames, and Lily wondered who would send parchment that reacted to heat. From the look on Remus' face, it wasn't meant to entertain. He looked as if he were going to be sick as he watched the fire crush the letter.
Lily moved closer to get a better look at him. Like Sirius and James, he was slender and somewhat taller than she was. Although he did not have Black's dark good looks or James' boy-next-door charm, his sun-lightened hair, shy smile, and earnest eyes gave plenty of girls enough to sigh over.
Up close, she could see his premature crow's feet and the lines forming around his mouth. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, and it looked as if he hadn't slept well in a few days. Perhaps that was the case-there had been a full moon barely a week before.
Ever since their second year, when she had figured out that the quiet boy with a very sick mother was a werewolf, Lily had gone back and forth with herself about whether to tell him she knew. On one hand, she wanted him to know that she was his ally. During their first year, he had been her friend when few others had, and she would stand by him, no matter what. Yet, on the other, it was his secret to tell and not her place to force him to confess.
And she had had other reasons for avoiding the conversation. For years Severus had been trying to sniff out Remus' secret. Lying to and dissuading him from pursuing his suspicions had been a lot easier without confirmation on Remus' part. When Severus had pressed her about her conversations with Lupin, she could honestly say that she had heard nothing and knew nothing.
"Is everything okay?" she asked.
Cocking his head at an angle, he pondered her question. "Are you asking as a friend or Head Girl?" he asked finally.
"Would your answer be different?"
"Possibly."
She rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with amusement. "Because a Marauder can't be caught confiding in an authority figure, is that it?"
He shared her smile. "If that were the case, we would have cast James out a few days ago."
"Not if you're trying to protect your interests."
Remus smirked, doing a frighteningly close impression of Black. "That's the advantage of having him for a ringleader—he won't turn himself in. No matter how poorly we treat him. You already witnessed our first attempt at humiliation."
"Stink bombs? I would have thought you guys were a little more sophisticated after all your years of practice."
"Nah. We're saving that for when he gets too big for his britches. Don't worry. We'll help you keep him in line."
She laughed at the offer. "I think Dumbledore was expecting it to be vice versa."
"So is James. Should make the surprise even better. And speak of the devil." Remus jerked his chin toward the boys' staircase where James was just alighting. His hair, still wet from the shower, looked as if it had laughed in his face when he tried to comb it. His fringe lay relatively smooth but the back stuck up as if he had just woken up. Cheeks still flushed from his shower, he looked like a little boy who had tried to tidy up for church.
A faint flush crept over Lily's cheeks as she recalled their encounter from the previous night. At least she could start setting things aright.
"Good morning, James."
He barely spared her a glance. "Morning. Moony, you didn't have to wait for me."
"I was just talking to Lily."
In the past, when they had been on the outs, this would have made him scowl. Instead, he looked bored. "Are you almost done then? I'm starving."
The need to say something pressed on Lily. She couldn't let him walk away without trying to fix things. "I'm sorry," she blurted. "About last night. I shouldn't have come at you like that."
"Really? Glad to get that off your chest, Evans? Come on Remus. We're going to miss breakfast if we keep wasting time."
Lily felt as if someone had punched her in the chest. Potter didn't spare a second glance in her direction as he headed out the portrait hole without waiting to see whether his friend would follow.
Remus ran a hand over his face. Tiredness crept across his features and deepened his wrinkles. "Let me talk to him," he promised. "He's been acting a bit erratic lately."
Erratic was exactly what James Potter was being, and she was relieved that she wasn't the only one noticing his behavior. It had been a long time since Lily had considered Remus a friend. Not since their first year when she had sat with him during class and meals because no one else would. In exchange, he had listened to her chatter as if he had never heard anything so interesting in his life. Unlike Severus, he had never had a condescending edge when answering her endless questions about the wizarding world. He seemed to enjoy sharing his knowledge and would often give longer answers than even she needed. She appreciated his offer to talk to Potter.
But tempting as his offer was, Lily knew that it was time for she and Potter to settle the tension between them. Seventeen was too old to still be using friends to shuttle messages back and forth.
"Thanks, but I think we need to sort this out ourselves," she told him.
Remus nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets. "He'll come around. Just give him some time. He has a lot on his plate right now."
He was right. Potter was trying to juggle both his Head Boy and his Quidditch captain responsibilities, not to mention schoolwork, which their professors were assigning liberally. Suddenly, things seemed easier to smooth out. She could even offer to take on some of his Head duties, if necessary.
"You're a good friend," she thanked him.
He shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. "James is an even better one." Beneath his quiet voice, fervor gave greater meaning to his words. His gaze hardened as if challenging her to contradict him, and Lily wondered what Potter had done to earn that level of dedication.
"I'd better go catch up to him. I'll see you around, Lily."
She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. "I'm always here, you know. If you need anything." She had not forgotten the letter.
A slow smile spread across his face, taking a few years off his features. "I know you've been."
He gave her a nod and hurried after Potter.
Her chat with Remus had significantly lightened her mood. She still wished her father were only an owl away to offer his advice—more likely a gruff reminder of every time James Potter had landed her in the hospital wing—but missing him was a little easier in the sunlight. Last night's rain had given way to a morning in which the clouds softened the sun's rays, casting a soft glow over everything.
Caught up in her lightened mood, she enjoyed Di and Aurora's back and forth on their way to breakfast. They made plans for a picnic on the lake that weekend. By the time they reached the great hall, the previous night seemed a long way off and she couldn't wait for the day to be done and the next to come.
Settling themselves at the Gryffindor table, they helped themselves to the thin remnants of breakfast. Di surveyed the table—the short stack of sticky buns, the shallow bowl of eggs. "Any more early morning practices, and I'm resigning Quidditch." Rising onto her knee on the bench, she called down the table, "Hear that Potter? Make me miss breakfast again, and I'm quitting!"
Black leaned forward and answered before Potter could. "Good luck watching us lose from the sidelines."
Potter cuffed his best friend over the head. "It's not a one player team." Black laughed and put his arms up to block another blow.
"Did Professor McGonagall tell you to say that?" Di quipped.
"No, just reminding him that he forgot me," Potter called back, tossing her a wink. "You make it so easy, Tighe."
Lily and Remus rolled their eyes while Aurora, Black, and Pettigrew laughed and Di ran her tongue over her teeth. "We'll leave it for the pitch, Potter."
"Anytime," he grinned.
Di tossed her hair and settled back into her seat. They all laughed—her gesture was merely symbolic since she wore her hair cropped short.
Aurora shook her head though she was still grinning. "Three concussions, four broken bones, and you'd resign over breakfast?"
"How am I supposed to stay in top form without breakfast?"
A flurry above announced the arrival of the owl post. A bored looking barn owl settled in front of Aurora and stuck out its leg. She released the Daily Prophet from its satchel and placed a knut in it in return. As if she had already wasted enough of its time, the bird took off immediately, almost clipping Di on the cheek with its wing. Wrinkling her nose, she pulled one of its feathers from the bowl of scrambled eggs.
"Is it really necessary to get that everyday?" she complained.
Aurora snapped the paper open. "Yes," she said from within its folds.
"It's all depressing anyway. Ministry Finds Another Infiltrator. So-and-so Is Dead. Five People Killed In A Bridge Collapse. Who wants to start their mornings with an obituary?"
"That news is important," Aurora replied. "It means Voldemort is gaining ground. Quickly. I'm surprised more people aren't interested in keeping up with what's going on. Apathy is going to catch up to us, and soon." She looked pointedly at Di.
The other girl shrugged. "If he comes, he comes. No use worrying about it before it happens."
"How can you say that? Especially after everything that happened this summer?"
Di froze as the color drained from her face. She licked her lips, as if they had suddenly gone dry. "And knowing what was coming would have made it easier? Right?"
Racking her brain for any news that stuck out over the summer, all Lily could remember was the Queen's visit to Northern Ireland and the rising cost of football players. Maybe Aurora was right. It was time she tuned in.
"I'm sorry," Lily interjected, "but what happened this summer?"
"You don't get the Prophet either?" Aurora sounded disappointed, as if she expected Lily of all people to follow the news of the Wizarding World.
"I usually spend the summer catching up on what's going on in the Muggle World. And having owls swooping in and out of my house on a daily basis is a little conspicuous, don't you think?"
Relaxing a little as the tension eased, Di raised an eyebrow. "And since when do you care about being conspicuous? How many warnings have you received again?"
More than she had even told her friends about. Since she had first started Hogwarts, she'd received numerous warnings from the Improper Use of Magic Office for doing magic in front of Petunia, or rather, as Eunomia Quint, put it, "people without connection to the Wizarding World."
"Anyway," Lily said, steering clear of that discussion, "can you just tell me what happened this summer?"
Aurora set down the paper. "I think you know him as the Yorkshire Ripper, actually."
How could she have forgotten? Her mother had installed extra locks on the doors and windows after his latest victim, a young shop assistant, had been found brutally battered and stabbed less than four hours from their home. She was only sixteen. Despite the cost of petroleum, Mrs. Evans had even insisted that Petunia take the car when she stomped out, to be safe.
"He made it into the Wizarding news?"
Di's expression was grim. "He is the Wizarding News, Lily. Maybe there is a Muggle running around killing women. But it's Death Eaters doing most of the killing. The Ministry is having a hell of a time covering it up."
A cold sensation gripped her stomach. She had been oblivious this summer. There were Death Eaters not four hours away from her house, and she had not even known it. Or had she?
Things from the summer began to fall into place. Feeling watched and followed. The movement she had caught out of the corner of her eye. Had Death Eaters been tailing her all summer?
Were they still watching her house? Her mother and Petunia were there, completely unaware of any danger. Door bolts and window locks were nothing to anyone with a wand.
Aurora touched her arm. "Are you okay?"
"See, Aura, all this does is upset people." Determined to appear unfazed by the discussion, she leaned forward and called down the table to a second year in glasses, "Hey, Specs, pass those eggs along, will you?" But for all her bravado, she couldn't hide the crease between her eyes.
It only deepened as Lily confessed that she had felt as if someone were watching her all summer and told them about the startled animals, sudden flashing lights, and the creeping feeling on her neck.
By the end, Aurora's hands were at her cheeks and Di was frowning.
"You should have told us," Aurora gasped and took Lily's hand.
"After the run in with Mulciber and Nott in the library, I thought I was just jumping at shadows. But perhaps not." Her mouth suddenly went dry. Was her home still being watched? Since returning to Hogwarts, the feeling of being followed had subsided but the Death Eaters had been only hours from her house all summer. Her mother and Petunia were there without anyone to defend them.
Terrified of wasting another moment, Lily scrambled out of her seat. "Tell Professor Flitwick I may be a little late."
"Where are you going?" Aurora demanded. "The bell's going to ring any moment."
"I have to warn my mum." She sprinted from the great hall, turning heads as she went.
Twenty minutes later, having sent her owl, Arete, off with a note for her mother, she opened the door to the Charms classroom as quietly as she could. To her relief, the sound of quiet chatter told her that the students had broken off into groups. Professor Flitwick's attention wouldn't be on her when she entered.
Sneaking in, she crept over to the only free chair, next to James Potter.
"So you decided to show up," he said as she set her bag down and slid into her seat.
"Of all people, you couldn't find a partner," she said coolly. She looked around for her friends. Finding them a few rows behind her, she pursed her lips. Di shrugged and Aurora mouthed, "Sorry." Lily turned back around to find Potter scowling at her.
"Considering I just covered for you, you could be a bit more polite. We're working on animating charms." On the desk between them lay a hammer and a small block of wood with a half-inserted nail. "Watch," he instructed.
"Animatio," he instructed with two flicks of his wrist. The hammer leapt up and began to pound the nail into the block of wood.
"Thanks," Lily told him beneath the hammer's tapping.
Their eyes met. She had expected to find his narrowed in hostility but instead, Potter's gaze was level behind his black spectacles. "I won't hold it against you."
"Unlike everything else."
"You ride a high horse, Evans."
"And you're sitting on the ground?" she retorted. Realizing that they were falling back into their old antagonism, Lily took a breath. They weren't going to resolve anything sniping back and forth. "Look, I made a mistake last night. I didn't mean to make you feel that way."
Potter ran a hand through his hair and the tightness around his lips softened. He looked unsure. Hoping that he was relenting, Lily ploughed on. "I'm sure we can work everything out. Things won't change overnight, but we can't give up just because we—I made one mistake."
His wand stilled the hammer. The nail had been perfectly inserted into the wood. "It's your turn," he said, summoning a second block from across the room.
She yanked it out of the air and slapped it on the desk. James Potter was being a prick. One misunderstanding and he acted like he was the only one with a right to be angry. Hadn't he spent years antagonizing her and her best friend?
But neither of them had been fair to the other since they had first met, and she was determined to mend the strain between them. They couldn't leave Hogwarts carrying the same grudges they had held since they were eleven. Her letter to her mother served as a reminder that as safe as Hogwarts felt, a cruel force was about to shake the wizarding world and they couldn't afford not to trust one another.
"We can't be friends," he said tersely. "I don't want to be."
Lily's stomach sank. "What happened to our truce?" Carefully, she positioned the block in front of her, making sure that its edges were perfectly parallel to those of the desk.
"We agreed we were colleagues, not friends. Professor Flitwick's coming. Look busy."
Biting her lip, Lily flicked her wand as Potter had shown her. The hammer rose shakily, but it straightened over the nail and fell true.
Professor Flitwick scurried into view. "Very good, Miss Evans! I see Mr. Potter has caught you up." Her professor flushed a deep red. "I assume everything is—ahem—taken care of?" he squeaked, looking extremely uncomfortable.
"Yes. Everything's fine. Thank you for excusing me," she said hesitantly, cutting her eyes at Potter as she spoke. He refused to meet her glare, but she could tell he was hiding a wide smile behind his hand.
"Not at all. I'm just glad-well, very good. Very good," Professor Flitwick muttered, his face now scarlet. Satisfied that her absence had not hindered her comprehension of the lesson, their professor hurriedly moved on to the next table where Isabelle Whimby's hammer was pounding a hole into the desk.
Lily turned toward her partner. "Maybe I shouldn't have been so fast to thank you for getting me off the hook. What did you tell him?"
Potter coughed trying to cover a laugh. "You know, the usual." He still wouldn't look at her.
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and that is?"
"Girl problems. Works like a charm, doesn't it?" He couldn't control his grin any longer as he finally faced her. His eyes were alight with mischief, and he appeared every bit as boyish as the first time she had caught him dipping her braid in ink when they were eleven.
"Potter," she gritted.
His grin looked about to burst his cheeks. "Not too loud remember. Don't want to blow your alibi."
Mortified that her professor thought she had been off taking care of her period, Lily grabbed up the hammer, not sure exactly where she wanted to hurt Potter first but certain that she wanted to do damage.
Laughing, he grabbed her wrist to hold her off. "Come on, Evans. Let's not make a scene."
Already woodchips were flying as the hammers around them began pounding into the wood blocks while their owners looked on. Across the room, Black was doubled over with laugher and behind them Aurora gave her a questioning look.
Breathing out through her nose, Lily settled back into her seat. Potter kept his grip on her wrist until she released the hammer. He yanked it up and moved it out of her reach.
She held out her hand for the tool. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hit you, this time," she assured him.
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "And next time?"
She leaned in close, smiling as sweetly as she could. "I'm giving you all the gory details."
Potter blanched, and she laughed as she retrieved the hammer from his limp hand. He just never learned.
After their initial exchange, Potter returned to his aloof self as they moved on from animating hammers to manipulating needles through cloth. But though they hardly spoke, she could feel him watching her when his attention wasn't on his assignment. His gaze sent a tingling sensation up and down her side, and she had to lean forward and examine the cloth in front of her for imaginary snarls in order to pretend she didn't notice. However, as soon as class was dismissed he scrambled from his seat without so much as a backward glance, as if he had spent all of class waiting to get away.
As she joined her friends at the door, Lily realized that James Potter was starting to consume far more of her thoughts than she liked.
By the end of the day, Lily was grateful for the weekend ahead. Already her professors were piling up essays, projects, and assignments. Professor Sprout released them to their Friday evening with a reminder that they would have to come in over the weekend to tend their plant plots in Greenhouse three.
Disgruntled at having to regularly spend part of their weekend in the greenhouse, the seventh years trudged back up to the castle.
"My mum threw a fit, but I'm glad I dropped Potions," sighed Sera. "How are we supposed to enjoy seventh year cooped up in a library?"
"No one said N.E.W.T.s were fun," grumbled Di.
"Raphael said he barely studied." Raphael was Sera's older brother. He shared his sister's light hair and eyes. However, he was shy and bookish. He had been a seventh year during their first, and both Aurora and Mary had had crushes on him, much to Sera's disdain.
"Doesn't he work in one of the Ministry's top secret departments though?" Mary asked.
"Regardless," sniffed Sera, "he can't be that much smarter than me. Otherwise he would've been in Ravenclaw." Suddenly she gripped the arms of Aurora and Mary, who were on either side of her. "Girls, do you know what this means?"
Whether they actually wanted to know or not, Sera would share, but Lily humored her. "What?"
"Tutoring!" she said, clapping her hands. To Lily's skeptical look, she waved her hand. "Of course I'm not going to ask Callum, but there's his friend—what's his name? The one that looks like the lead singer for Goblin Market?"
Buoyed by the discovery of this silver lining, Mary and Sera carried them back to the castle on the waves of their chatter and lists of boys to pair with each of them. Aurora joined in for fun—she was neck-and-neck with Lily for top female in their year.
Di and Lily quickly grew bored of the planning and walked ahead.
"Aurora told me about last night," Di told her. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." She was grateful that Di didn't have to hear the news from her to lend her support. "I think I just needed a cry."
"Probably," her friend agreed. They walked on in companionable silence. Unlike Aurora, Di rarely overanalyzed anything. She preferred to get straight to the point and trim as much emotion as possible. Her abrupt way of handling matters was helpful in clearing some of the intellectual and emotional quagmire the rest of them could get tangled in.
"Potter can be thick." Di said all of a sudden. "Give him time."
Lily nearly stopped. She slowed enough that she had to skip a little to catch up with Di's longer strides.
"Have you been talking to Remus?"
"No. Why?"
Lily shrugged. "Just wondering." But she smiled at the second offering of hope.
She had not forgotten about Marlene McKinnon. Although her attempt to discover information through Potter had ended in a cold shoulder, she knew someone else who would be more than willing to provide some answers.
Professor Slughorn's office was small, but crammed with all of his overstuffed and tasseled furniture, it seemed even smaller. Pictures of his past favorite students waved, scowled, or winked down at her as she entered. Most prominent, at the moment, was that of a grinning, baby-faced young man, the Wimbourne Wasps' star beater, Ludo Bagman. He zoomed in circles on the poster, swinging his bat and pumping his fist. At times he thrust out his chest at an invisible audience below. Several years her senior, he had finished Hogwarts shortly after she arrived, but he remained something of a legend among the Hufflepuffs as he had brought their team and house the glory they were so often short-changed.
"Lily! M'dear! Come in, have a seat!" he called in answer to her knock at his door, which stood slightly ajar. It had been less than thirty minutes since the final bell of the day had rung and he was already at his desk, pouring himself a glass of wine. Pulling a second goblet from the shelf against the wall, he held up the port. "Can I get you anything?"
"No, thank you." She sank into her usual chair, a winged armchair upholstered in purple brocade.
"Are you sure?" he chuckled. "As I've heard, you've had quite a week between Peeves and Mr. Potter!"
She politely declined his second offer, and he came around to settle onto the sofa across from her, a goblet gripped in his thick hand.
"I must say, I usually prefer to take my evening wine in solitude. But for you, I'll make an exception." Raising his glass, he toasted her before taking a long gulp and following it with a satisfied smack of his lips.
"Perfectly aged," he announced. "Arrived last night, from him." He gestured to the Ludo Bagman's picture, which was now raising his arms, encouraging the crowd to cheer. "He prefers much harder stuff, but he knows I like my port. But I don't think you stopped by to hear about my drinking habits," he chuckled. "What's on your pretty mind Miss Evans?"
Despite his shortcomings, Professor Slughorn was always so jovial and enthusiastic: Lily could not help but smile. But today, she smiled a little wider and laughed a little freer. It had dawned on her that there was someone other than Potter whom Marlene McKinnon may have told that she was visiting Hogwarts. Marlene McKinnon had been a part of Professor Slughorn's special group of students whom he invited to dinners and parties. A Quidditch star even brighter than Potter, Quidditch captain, Prefect, and Head Girl with a well-connected wizarding family—Marlene McKinnon had had all the filigree of a Slug Club member.
"I wanted to say hello. Class has been so consumed by our projects that I didn't get to hear about your trip to Paris."
Slughorn's voluminous mustache twitched above his smile. He was very fond of her. She was one of the few people who listened to all of his stories about his former students and never seemed to grow tired of the ones he repeated. It did not hurt that she was at the top of her class and an all around professor's favorite.
He happily detailed each meal he had had, lingering with relish over a particularly succulent duck he had at an event for the French Minister of Magic. Of course, one of his former students had been there on a diplomatic mission and had obtained an invitation for him.
It was almost too easy to segue into what she had truly come to find out. Swinging her legs over the arm of the chair, she flashed a mischievous smile in his direction. "Professor Slughorn, it's not like you to hold a Slug Club event that I don't get an invitation to. I would have loved to have seen the Parisian decorations!"
"Slug Club?" he asked, eyes widening.
"I was quite hurt, you know," Lily continued, looking down at her knees as if to hide a frown, "after all, we always have such a lovely time." She touched her sleeve to her eyes for added effect.
"M'dear," he spluttered, "there has to be a mistake. I haven't held a Slug Club meeting since last year."
"Really?" Lily peeked over her shoulder.
Too rotund to scoot forward on his cushion, Professor Slughorn huffed as he rocked himself from side to side to reach the edge of the sofa so he could reach out a pudgy hand to pat her arm. "What could have given you that idea?"
"I thought I saw Marlene McKinnon in the castle this week, and I could only assume that she was here for a Slug Club reunion."
"Ho ho! Marlene McKinnon! No, now that you mention her, I haven't heard from her in ages! I expected to see her in the pros by now, but I suppose she's busy with other things."
"Other things?" she asked politely.
The joviality slid from his face. "The Ministry has a lot on its hands now, doesn't it? I've heard their hard pressed keeping this nasty business happening around the country under wraps."
Disappointed that Slughorn knew nothing about Marlene, Lily allowed her professor to redirect the conversation. Eager not to dwell on the state of the Ministry, he soon asked her about her Potions project.
"Have you and Mr. Black begun work on your project? He's not being too disruptive, is he?"
Lily shook her head. To her surprise, Black had actually put some effort into their work. He had already compiled a list of books to research and charmed Professor Sprout into giving them access to all of the Greenhouses should they need to use any rare plants. A few days ago, she would have said that it was all Potter's doing, but now, it looked like Black was truly committed to their work.
Not wanting to withhold credit where it was due, Lily told her professor about the work he had put in just that week. "He's been very helpful so far. He's much more focused when there's not an audience to entertain."
"Certainly an entertainer and popular with the ladies. Don't give me that look" (for Lily was suppressing a smile.) "Not quite like the rest of his family, that one," he said. "You probably know his cousin, Bella. She's quite a piece of work. No wonder his mother—." He stopped short and his eyes became shifty. "Well, surely you know. You're in Gryffindor."
Her heart lurched just at the memory Bellatrix Black. A piece of work did little justice to the girl's sadism. An entire crowd had watched as she broke every toe, one by one, of a first year who had accidentally stepped on her foot while avoiding a whizzing plate that Peeves had decided to play frisbee with in floor corridor.
Beyond tales of his way with the ladies and his pranks, she had never thought much about his personal life. Until Professor Slughorn had mentioned it, Black's relation to Bellatrix had slipped her mind. He may have had a similar penchant for bullying but with none of the cruelty that his cousin possessed.
Curious, Lily raised an eyebrow.
"Then again," he backtracked, "it's not as if. Well it's all very unpleasant. Very unpleasant. The Blacks can be a bit impulsive." When Lily said nothing, he began to look uncomfortable. "But you must know by now. Sirius Black was disowned."
A tiredness she had never seen came over Professor Slughorn's face and his girth seemed to deflate a little. He passed his hand over his face. "Always thought he was a little different from the rest of them. Well, it was clear when he ended up in Gryffindor. Not a single one of them has been anything but Slytherin, even their one cousin—I forget her name. Married a muggle not too long ago."
Knowing how much stock pureblood families put into houses, she understood that they probably hadn't been pleased with the results of his sorting. But what could he have done for them to disown him? He could be an arrogant prick, but no more than any other boy his age with his good looks and natural talent.
"No need to look so upset, m'dear, I'm sure everything is working out for the best. And now," he rocked himself to his feet. Standing, he wasn't much taller than he had been sitting down, but the room seemed to shrink a little. "I'm afraid I have to hurry you along for now. I have an appointment with Professor Sprout, and unfortunately, I had to cancel our first meeting to go to France. Never be a stranger. Things do get a little lonely, and you're a spot of sunshine in an old man's dreary existence."
Laughing, Lily rose and collected her things. "Dining with the French Minister of Magic is hardly what I would call a dreary existence, but I suppose it must be exhausting to have such famous connections. One must be keeping up with so many people and accomplishments."
Mustache lifting in a walrus-like smile, her professor conceded by raising his glass to her. "As always, your cheek is endearing, Miss Evans, and keeps me honest."
Parting ways at his door, she tried to keep her voice casual as she asked that he let her know if Marlene were ever up to visit him. Without a hesitation of suspicion, he happily agreed and offered to help them get better acquainted.
As she passed by the Potions classroom, she was surprised to see a light under the door. A breathy voice answered her quiet knock.
"Wait! One minute!"
Afraid she was interrupting something she would rather not walk in on, Lily was about to retreat when the door jerked open. A cloying smell wafted from the room and Dorcas Meadowes' hair haloed her face. Her face was flushed a deep pink and her eyes watered, but she smiled when she saw Lily.
"I didn't realize you were working," Lily apologized.
"Professor Slughorn lets me use the room for projects," she explained. "I'd invite you in but this is a particularly unpleasant potion. As you can probably see."
"What is it?"
"You may know it as the Prisoner's Dream potion. No one really uses it anymore. It was more popular before Azkaban. Wizards used it to keep people captive because it muddles the mind while leaving memories intact."
"Who are you planning to hold hostage?"
Dorcas chuckled and opened door enough that she could squeeze through to join Lily in the corridor. "Your eyes would start watering after a few seconds longer exposure," she explained. "I promised Professor Slughorn that I would destroy it after. Not exactly something anyone wants floating around."
"I don't remember coming across it in our book."
"Well, no." Dorcas looked down at the floor. "It's not considered a N.E.W.T. level potion. It's really finicky and can easily go wrong. Wizards have lost their memory or minds taking it."
Dorcas' skill was impressive. Having partnered with her on several occasions the year before, Lily knew her facility but had had no idea that her ability was so advanced. Severus was the only other student Lily could think of who would be able to brew such advanced potions without supervision.
"I had no idea you worked on special projects. How long have you been doing this?"
"Since my cauldron exploded in my room last year. Professor Flitwick was livid. Of course, I had taken precautions in the case of such an event, but she didn't want to hear any of it. Apparently, Professor Slughorn overheard him squeaking in the faculty room and offered his classroom. It's much easier here anyway. No one sighing or grumbling while I work. I should have asked him in the first place, I suppose, but I didn't think he'd agree."
"It's wonderful that he did, and you can have your own space. I shouldn't keep you, though."
"It needs to simmer for a few minutes anyway. It's good to see you. Outside of class, that is. I never had a chance to ask—are you okay?" At Lily's blank look, she added, "After Defense Against the Dark Arts. Yesterday."
"Oh, yes. I'll admit I was a bit shaken, but I've recovered. Thank you for asking."
Dorcas smiled pleasantly in response, but her expression was somewhat vacant, which meant she had reached the end of her social tether.
Lily asked a few more polite questions about her first week back and her other potions work. Although there was no strain in the exchange, both were relieved when Doras' potion called her back inside and they had an easy excuse to part.
Lily set off for the Gryffindor Tower deep in thought. Although she had learned nothing more about Marlene McKinnon from Slughorn, he had left her with plenty to contemplate. Not that she and Black were particularly well acquainted, but not once in her seven years of knowing him had he ever hinted that his home life was anything less than spoiled and well-cared for. Both he and Potter had the air of silver spoon fed childhoods.
First year, she had assumed that Bellatrix was the anomaly in the family. She and her sisters, a quiet brunette and a haughty blonde, had been renowned at Hogwarts for their beauty. Lily had learned to fear the eldest but the other two had seemed aloof yet harmless.
However, from what Professor Slughorn suggested, Bellatrix wasn't the only one with pureblood values in her family. Perhaps the others were not as virulent but they valued bloodline enough that the Gryffindor Black, who practically made it his career to prank Slytherins as often and inconveniently as possible and made it known that his circle could include anyone regardless of their blood heritage, had been excommunicated.
It occurred to Lily, as she reached the seventh floor landing, that for all their happy-go-lucky attitude and love of attention, the Marauders harbored some very dark secrets. She wondered if Potter had any. The thought intrigued her.
At any given time, there was only one thing that James could find immediately in wreck of a room he shared with Sirius, Peter, and Remus: his broom. In the meantime, he was tossing around half of Zonko's Joke Shop stock, exploding expletives, discarded clothes, and pieces of one of the six chessboards they owned in search of his Quidditch arm guards.
Finding them beneath a wrinkled copy of Circe's Mansion with two scantily clad witches on the cover of the magazine, he tucked them into his belt.
He had another hour before practice started, but he had to make a stop along the way.
Remus looked up from his latest book. "Are you heading out already?"
"Soon," he answered non-committally.
"Are you meeting up with Cressida?" To his surprise, his friend's voice was cool.
James paused in his hunt for his second shin guard. "No. Why?"
"Nothing." Remus picked up his book again and went back to reading, or at least pretending like he was.
It was just the two of them in the room. Peter and Sirius were serving detention for charming the girls' toilets to make loud belching noises.
Getting defensive, James crossed his arms. "Do you have a problem with her?"
"Not if you don't."
"Well I don't."
"Do you like her?"
James glared over at his friend. "So do we start braiding one another's hair now or after I have a cry on your shoulder?" All week his friends had been probing him about his sudden friendship with the Ravenclaw who'd drawn his name in Potions.
Honestly, she was way too forward and wore too much makeup for his tastes. But she showed interest in him, and he couldn't think of a better opportunity to put some distance between himself and Lily, who had all of a sudden decided that she wanted to be friends. Before this year, he would have been over the moon and off with the spoon at her tiptoeing gestures, but she couldn't have timed them worse. With the possibility of Voldemort coming after him, he didn't want her anywhere near him.
"You're not leading her on, are you?"
Remus had set aside his book again. His face was set, as if he was determined to pursue this conversation no matter what James threw at him. James almost sighed. Moony was such a gentleman.
"We're not going anywhere. I promise."
"Did you tell her that?"
No, he hadn't. He figured he would just play along until things came to a head. "Haven't gotten around to it yet." James went back to looking for his shin guard. Behind him, he heard Remus' bed creak.
"What about Lily?"
"What about her?"
"You magically got over her?"
James spun around to find Remus perched on the end of his bed. For a moment he considered retorting that it was none of his damn business. But that wasn't fair. He was the one who had asked his friends to give up sleep and time to look out for her.
He slumped against Sirius' bedpost and ran a hand through his hair. "It's sort of complicated." What wasn't when it came to Lily Evans?
"I think I can try to figure it out," Remus told him encouragingly.
Half expecting his friend to scoff at his theories about the Dark Lord, James haltingly explained the conclusions he had drawn from Peter's report. Even to him, they sounded highly improbable when he said them aloud.
Remus was quiet for a few minutes when he finished. At least he was taking time to consider what he'd said. James waited for his friend to speak, shifting his weight against the bedpost.
"Have you received anything, other than hearsay, to make you think Voldemort wants you in his pocket?"
"No. Just a feeling."
His friend nodded slowly, rubbing the shadow of his beard in thought.
"So you think I'm jumping to conclusions?" James asked when Remus said nothing.
"No. What you said about him infiltrating us to sway the students makes a lot of sense." As if to validate his true consideration of James' thoughts, Remus' face paled. "You haven't received any letters or anything? Not that your plan isn't valid. It just seems to be roundabout for a first try."
James shrugged. "Maybe. But owls can be traced. And what if we showed one of the letters to Dumbledore? Or a professor? He'd never have a chance of getting anywhere near us. He won't want to put anything in writing unless he's absolutely sure it wouldn't get passed us."
Remus didn't seem completely convinced, but he conceded that what James said made the most sense. Standing up, he fished a pair of pants out of his drawers. "Okay, I understand why you're doing what you're doing but be careful. They may start to feel used, especially Cressida."
As usual, Moony was right. As forward as she was, no girl deserved to be strung along and then dropped once she had served a purpose. But maybe, if he explained that he needed a friend to help him protect another, she'd be willing to help. It couldn't hurt to ask.
James spotted his shin guard underneath Sirius' bed. He retrieved it and tucked the rest of his Quidditch gear beneath his arm.
"Remus?"
His friend emerged through his tshirt. "Yeah?"
"Thanks. For keeping me a gentleman."
Moony rolled his eyes. "Someone has to do it. Thank goodness Sirius wasn't here to derail my efforts." They shared a laugh before James headed out.
He found her examining an ancient looking scroll in her classroom. Her back was to him but she spoke before he had raised his hand to knock.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"
Just her voice made his heart accelerate against his ribs. The shadows made the bronze in her hair ripple. He closed the door behind him.
"I have a favor, Professor."
"And what might that favor be?" she asked, finally turning from her reading. In the half-light, her skin was luminous and her eyes seemed to glow. Her beauty muddled his head, and it took several tries before he could speak properly.
"I want to learn how to fight the Imperius Curse."
"One of your classmates reported our lesson to the Headmaster. He has asked that I suspend further use of such advanced magic on my students."
"No one has to know," he offered.
"I sense that this is not in the name of scholarly pursuit."
Of course it wasn't. Erasing the image of Lily's bloodless face as he turned on her was going to take along time. And he wanted to make sure no one could turn him against those he cared about ever again.
"No. Not entirely."
Professor Harker waited. He had yet to convince her.
"During our first class, you said that you would break me of my weakness for Lily Evans but in that same class, she proved my greatest strength. She gave me back my mind, and I'm not planning on losing it again anytime soon."
The air in the room became uncomfortably thick as the silence persisted. James could feel it clogging his nose and his throat, filling his ears like cotton. Professor Harker's face was inscrutable when she finally spoke. "Come back Tuesday, and we'll see how you fare, Mr. Potter."
As quickly as it had risen, the thick air cleared and he took a deep breath.
"Thank you, Professor."
"Hold your thanks, Mr. Potter. And not a word."
"Not one," he promised.
