My Muse is Back! Thank you for waiting so patiently for this chapter, I have a lot of excuses, but I'm not Going to waste time here :P
Disclaimer: I have never, and will never own Happy Potter, but I hear J. K. Rowling does very well from it.
Chapter Nine... Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men...
"Momie!" The little girl cried, hair flowing behind her, eyes wide. "Mummy!"
Her mother, standing regally at the end of the path, turned slowly, her frown being replaced by a smile.
"Ma Cherie" The older women replied, embracing the child before her. "What are you doing here, Cherie?" She asked, releasing the girl, who continued to hide her face in her mothers skirts. "My darling?"
The girl stepped back, putting a respectful distance between her and her mother. "Momie, Papa a quitte." The girl explained desparately. The woman scowled, understanding her words clearly, regretfully.
"Mon enfant." The woman murmered. "How many times have a told you to speak english?" Her tone was soft, her eyes demanding. The girls violet eyes flooded with tears, but she straightend, and made her face impassive.
"Papa has.." The girl struggled to find the word, with her fractured english. "Papa has ...passe." Her mother's face softend, but only for a moment.
"The word you need is 'gone'." She muttered, narrowing her eyes in thought. "Why did he leave?" Her young daughters eyes lit up, with almost awe.
"A Patronus entre." Her mothers eyes widend, and she bent to grip her daughters arms tightly.
"What type of Patronus." At her daughter blank look, she translated it. The girl grinned.
"Fox. A fox." The girls mother swore, and lept back from the girl.
"Baiser. Baiser. Baiser." The woman repeated for a moment, skirts whirling as she spun. Her daughter was always facinated by her mother. She forbit her daughter to speak French, but in panic, reverted back to it.
The older woman turned to her daughter. "Do not leave. You must stay here!" The girl nodded slowly. "Sejour!" This time the girl smiled in understanding.
Her mother glanced her child up an down. She was a small thing, premature, and she hadn't grown into herself yet. Her hair was worn long, no matter how much the girl complained, as was the fashion for young girls. Her skirts, once long and blue, were covered in dirt and evidence of her fun. The woman resisted her urge to roll her eyes. Her daughter was dismal. They had wanted a son. But Iva was satified with her daughter. She had yet to be trained, but she would hopefully come into herself. She was still young.
Wide purple eyes gleamed at her. "Maman, where is Papa?" She asked in her childish voice.
Iva straightend, and stared intently down at her for a moment. "Goodbye child. Stay here." And she strode off into the garden.
Violenta stood watching her mother until she was out of sight. Her mother was too pretty. The girl turned and grinned at the waterfeature opposite the path. She clambered off the path until she was within reach of the foutain. Little limbs moving furiously, she managed to get atop of the feature, to where the water poured out. It was off a woman, solemn and quiet looking, who was staring into the distance. The water trickled slowly out of her mouth, and into the foutain. She looked sad, Violenta thought. But the water reminded her of the Patronus from before. She'd never seen one before, in her young life, but her father had once showed her a picture in one of his books, in a fickle attempt to teach her magic early. Violenta wasn't as silly as her parents thought. She could read perfect French, as well as speak it, but she could only read English. It was harder to say it. When reading it, all you had to do was look for words that looked similar to French words. The Patronus she'd seen had been just as perfect as her father had said they were. It was a Fox, she didn't know what type, but it had been white. It had spoken to her father in a language she'd only ever heard her grandmother speak, so maybe it was her grandmothers Patronus. That would make sense. And if Grandmother was introuble, that was the reason why her parents had left so suddenly. Again. Her Grandmother must have been in trouble a lot of the time, as her parents were gone a lot of the time. But the Fox had been pretty, and worth her parents leaving. Violenta grinned, when she was older she'd have a Fox Patronus, and cut her annoying hair, and she would get to see her parents more. Because she'd protect her Grandmother, so her parents didn't have to do it.
The water continued to trickle down from the foutain.
Violenta was woken from her dream by a concerned, smiling Thea. "Violenta, what's wrong? You were dreaming, and crying, and-" Violenta interupted her.
"Don't worry, Thea." She murmered bitterly. "It was just a dream.
Dumbledore had called an 'Inner Circle' meeting. That usually considered of the main members of the Order, the people who couldn't be done away with. Their identies were protected fiercly, and all Violenta knew was that there was five of them including Dumbledore and another, who'd she only ever called Snipe. Snipe was the esponage master, Violenta's only real contact with anybody while on a mission. The other three, Violenta guessed, where the other key members of the Order, without it couldn't function. What was unusual about this certain Inner Circle meeting, was that Violenta was informed she was to attend.
It had been nearly two weeks since the dreams had started, and three since that faithful history lesson. Even weeks later, the memory had the ability to crack her up. Black had been so vulnerable, despite not admitting his defeat. But the dreams where robbing her of any satisfaction she got from his humiliation. They were always in the early hours of the morning, just as the sun was starting its long journey back into the skies. But the things they spoke of hurt the most. Violenta's mother, Iva, and father, Edward, were constant chracters in these remeniscences.
Shrugging of herpain at the dream, Violenta shouldered Dumbledore's door open. Inside, he was awaiting her, inpractically coloured travelling cloat and hat upon his head. Also wearing a travelling cloak, of a more reserved dark blue, Violenta had her wand in it's case upon her left wrist. Knives and other sharp objects that could hurt or maim were located all over her body. Violenta had learned early on that many wizards didn't learn hand to hand fighting, simply because they believed that magic was always superious. She didn't see why you had to waste magical energy on an Avada Kadavra, when a simple knife in the right place would do.
Without any words of greeting, Dumbledore jumped right into it.
"You are not usually invited to the Inner Circle meetings, can you guess why you are this one?" Despite his obvious glee in lording the information over her, Violenta actually thought about the question. It wasn't because of a break through in her mission, that was been dead in the sand, as Violenta had had no progress since figuring out that Bloombadges' lover was an infamous Ravenclaw named Madison Heartridge, a halfblood. Since then, Violenta had discovered; Crabbe, Vincent was to dumb to play a crucial role in the war, even if he was a Death Eater, and that Edan, Clarissa, despite her abnormal sex drive and egotistical behaviour, was like one to many girls in Slytherin. She was now looking into Hepburn, Ambrose, Ani's brother, but wasn't expecting much. He was an A-grade student, had never had a detention or a relationship. Really, Violenta thought he was more suited to Ravenclaw than Slytherin.
There was no other reason she would have been invited to the meeting, and even then, all crutial infromation would have been passed through Snipe and Dumbledore. Unless... No. Snipe was too good.
"I have no idea Albus, please inlighten me." Dumbledore's eyes sobered.
"Snipe was killed on his mission last week. You have been chosen as his successor." Air flooded out of Violenta's chest. She hadn't known Snipe outside of esponage, infact even then her experiences with him hadn't been that extrodinary. Violenta reminded herself, as she did every time this happend, that in her line of work, death was almost a job description.
Her mind spun to why in the world she would be chosen as successor. Being Snipe's replacement would double her work load, multiple times. She would have to over see, although not participate in, all of the esponage mission that the Order was relying on. All information from any of the Order's many spies would have to be filtered by her, before being given to the Order, and Dumbledore. Suspicion formed.
"Why would you choose me?"
Dumbledore sighed. "You were the logical choice. You have been trained from a young age, your parents were in the Order and your bloodties to me eradicate all suspicion on your character." Ah yes. Blood ties with Dumbledore. The thought would have made her shiver if she didn't know it was true. Dumbledore sighed, as if what he was going to say would be hard. "And, you are highly skilled. No mission you have ever undertaken has ever been unsuccessful, despite the losses that have been taken." It was a backhand compliment. And the death's around Violenta hadn't always been her fault. It was just that early on in her career as a, well, spy, around fourteen, it had become obvious that she didn't work well with others. She was too secretive and impulsive to rely upon others. The breakdown of comunication had led to some near disasters, but luckily no deaths that were avoidable. Still, since then, the Order had learned to let Violenta be by herself.
"Would I have to loose this mission?" The thought, oddly, filled her with dread, and Violenta realised she rather liked the normality of school, even if she was spending her spare time spying upon the future-Death Eaters.
Dumbledore shook his head, eyes down. "Not as of yet. Despite your lack of success, it is usful to have someone on the lookout other than me. You will continue your mission, until such a time that I declare it finished." Relief filled Violenta, but she couldn't help but poke holes in his answer.
"What about the work load?" She knew that there would be very little time to spare if she was organising everything as well as herself.
"You will just have to make do. If necessary, let your grades drop down. You never know, it might actually help with your investigation if your grades were lower." About to ask another question, Violenta was interupted by the Headmaster standing. "We must leave now or we'll be late." Gesturing for her to take his arm, despite her own ability to apparate by herself, he prepared himself to leave. It was common knowledge that the Headmaster could apparate in and out of his office within the Upper Slytherins. Violenta had no idea how they knew this, but they did.
Taking his arm, she prepared herself for the uncomforatable sensation of disappearating.
James Potter, alone in his Head Commonroom, was for once, studying without the precense of Remus. But he did have a reason. Lily, at that moment was making her way back from meeting with her friends, and it would be the perfect time to show of hi new found 'responsibility.'
The black haired boy stared down at the essay infront of him. It wasn't like Slughorn to be intentionally cruel, but it seemed he had chosen the one essay question that James had no chance of completing. Or maybe because Remus wasn't present. Groaning, James settled back for a long night of studying. "...The Wolfbane Potion, without doubt, is one of the most far fetched potion theories since the days of Merlin. Despite the brilliance of Brewen Culdran's potion mind, and his many successes in the past, this potion is doomed for failure. In the passed three hundred years, multiple scholars and Potioneers have tried to replicate and follow this theory to its end, and none have succeeded..."
The writer was biased, James noted. He also noted that, despite the authors dislike of the potion theory, he didn't seem to able to comunicate what the potion theory was about. James, eyes rolling back into his head, sighed and chucked the book to the side. Essay-in-progress sitting infront of him, James was about to give up, finding his inlightenment in Remus' copy, when the door burst open. Despite years of inadequet Defense teacher, James had Chaser reflexes, and was on his feet in an instant, wand a second behind.
All that met him was the obviously distressed and angered expression of Lily Evans. Fortunately, her anger didn't seem to be toward him, at least yet.
"Oh. It's just you." Despite the fire in her eyes, her voice was quiet and defeated.
"What's wrong Lily?" James asked, wand back in pocket. The red head just shook her head rapidly.
"I don't want to talk about it."
With the same gentle tone he'd used before, James approached her as if she were a frightend, angry lion, albeit beautiful. "Lily, com'on. Just sit down for a moment." James knew better then to ask her what was wrong. She studied him with wide green eyes for a moment, then nodded. She settled on one of the seats near the fire. James noted wryly that he wouldn't be able to sit next her like that. Taking a place opposite her, James set about being the comforting friend he wanted to be.
"What happend?"
Lily sighed, palming her forehead before answering. "I really don't want to talk about it Jam- Potter." James almost smiled at her near use of his first name.
"Yes you do, or you'll go to bed angry, wake up angry, and piss off all of your friends." That was true. It had happend many times in the past, althoug no one held a grudge.
Lily gave a consenting sigh. "You're just as annoying as ever Potter." Then she proceeded to tell him what was wrong.
It turned out she'd run into A few of the Slytherin cronies, some related to Sirius, who had abused her blood status. Marlene had dealt with them, but their words weren't the things that had upsett the redhead.
"Seve- Snape was there." It was a sign of James' growing maturity that he didn't launch into an anti-Snape spiel.
"He is a Slytherin." It was the one comment he could make without seeming rude. Yet, Lily still glared.
"No, he let them call me names." James failed to see it. He'd already made a mental note to terrorise the Slytherins because of the upsett against her. If Snape had said something...
"You mean he called you- names?" James had grown up with taunts like Mudblood, and Bloodtraitor, and had always had to moniter his language around Lily. She was already shaking her head, green eyes gleaming with anger and unshead tears.
"No, but he didn't stop them from doing it."
It was tehn that James had an eipiffany. He'd always seen Snape as a tag-along with Lily. She put up with his company because he was her first friend in the wizarding world. He'd never thought that Snape had done things to deserve such friendship. This confrontation told him that Snape usually fielded the other's name calling. Lily had actually lost something when she lost Snape.
Thinking that she'd lost his attention, Lily glanced around the room for another topic, and finally spotted the textbook James had been using for his essay.
"Are you doing research for Remus?" She asked, reading the title of the Potion Theory upside down. James jerked up, brown eyes wide and searching, before realising that she'd seent the article.
"You... You know?" James asked hoarsely, face pale and eyes shocked. Lily bit her lip tightly, suddenly realising her mistake.
"I... Um... Well you see-" Lily interupted herself with a sigh. "I can't talk myself out of it, can I?" James mutely shook his head. "Well..." Lily drifted off, truely unable to think of what to say.
Meanwhile, James was have an internal battle. He was proud of Lily for figuring it out, happy that he didn't have to keep it a secret from her, worried that she'd shun him for it, and terrified that she'd judge Remus because of it. Her expression was one of curiousity and nervousness (James absently noted that he'd gotten good at reading her expressions), but not one of rage or fear. Hesitantly, he asked the first question, breaking the almost awkward silence.
"How did you figure it out?" She apparently found this slightly offensive, as she raised an eyebrow dubiously at him.
"I'm not blind James, I know where he goes every month." Slightly thrilled she'd called him James without knowing it, he tried to act as if nothing happend.
"How long have you known?" When he told Remus, after calming him down of course, that was the first thing he'd want to know.
Lily did some quick mental calculations. "Around third year, start of fourth. Marlene was starting to get interesting in Black, so I spent more than a little time with her stalking you guys."
James' eyes widend. She'd known for nearly as long as he and the boys. The stalking bit would amuse Sirius to no end, despite how far the Marlene ship had sailed. Then a thought stopped him cold.
"Have you told anyone else?" Again, Lily looked angry at his question, but the anger from before had eased from her eyes.
"Of course I haven't told anyone else, I'm not an idiot!" Sighing in relief, James realised he had nothing much else to ask. Desparate to keep the conversation going, as it was the longest one he'd ever had with Lily, even if for half of it she'd been close to hitting him.
Finally he settled on something. Ignoring all the warnings from his friends, and all the well made plans he'd had, and blurted it out.
"Lily, will you go out with me?"
Lily stared blandly at him for a moment, before standing and striding toward her bedroom, slamming the bedroom. James sighed in dissapointment.
"Back to square one." James muttered, turning back to the text book, when he noticed Lily hadn't even commented on his responsibility. "Back to damned square one."
Luckly for the red head, James hadn't seen the grin that had covered her face as she'd stormed to her room.
Chapter Nine... Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men...
"Momie!" The little girl cried, hair flowing behind her, eyes wide. "Mummy!"
Her mother, standing regally at the end of the path, turned slowly, her frown being replaced by a smile.
"Ma Cherie" The older women replied, embracing the child before her. "What are you doing here, Cherie?" She asked, releasing the girl, who continued to hide her face in her mothers skirts. "My darling?"
The girl stepped back, putting a respectful distance between her and her mother. "Momie, Papa a quitte." The girl explained desparately. The woman scowled, understanding her words clearly, regretfully.
"Mon enfant." The woman murmered. "How many times have a told you to speak english?" Her tone was soft, her eyes demanding. The girls violet eyes flooded with tears, but she straightend, and made her face impassive.
"Papa has.." The girl struggled to find the word, with her fractured english. "Papa has ...passe." Her mother's face softend, but only for a moment.
"The word you need is 'gone'." She muttered, narrowing her eyes in thought. "Why did he leave?" Her young daughters eyes lit up, with almost awe.
"A Patronus entre." Her mothers eyes widend, and she bent to grip her daughters arms tightly.
"What type of Patronus." At her daughter blank look, she translated it. The girl grinned.
"Fox. A fox." The girls mother swore, and lept back from the girl.
"Baiser. Baiser. Baiser." The woman repeated for a moment, skirts whirling as she spun. Her daughter was always facinated by her mother. She forbit her daughter to speak French, but in panic, reverted back to it.
The older woman turned to her daughter. "Do not leave. You must stay here!" The girl nodded slowly. "Sejour!" This time the girl smiled in understanding.
Her mother glanced her child up an down. She was a small thing, premature, and she hadn't grown into herself yet. Her hair was worn long, no matter how much the girl complained, as was the fashion for young girls. Her skirts, once long and blue, were covered in dirt and evidence of her fun. The woman resisted her urge to roll her eyes. Her daughter was dismal. They had wanted a son. But Iva was satified with her daughter. She had yet to be trained, but she would hopefully come into herself. She was still young.
Wide purple eyes gleamed at her. "Maman, where is Papa?" She asked in her childish voice.
Iva straightend, and stared intently down at her for a moment. "Goodbye child. Stay here." And she strode off into the garden.
Violenta stood watching her mother until she was out of sight. Her mother was too pretty. The girl turned and grinned at the waterfeature opposite the path. She clambered off the path until she was within reach of the foutain. Little limbs moving furiously, she managed to get atop of the feature, to where the water poured out. It was off a woman, solemn and quiet looking, who was staring into the distance. The water trickled slowly out of her mouth, and into the foutain. She looked sad, Violenta thought. But the water reminded her of the Patronus from before. She'd never seen one before, in her young life, but her father had once showed her a picture in one of his books, in a fickle attempt to teach her magic early. Violenta wasn't as silly as her parents thought. She could read perfect French, as well as speak it, but she could only read English. It was harder to say it. When reading it, all you had to do was look for words that looked similar to French words. The Patronus she'd seen had been just as perfect as her father had said they were. It was a Fox, she didn't know what type, but it had been white. It had spoken to her father in a language she'd only ever heard her grandmother speak, so maybe it was her grandmothers Patronus. That would make sense. And if Grandmother was introuble, that was the reason why her parents had left so suddenly. Again. Her Grandmother must have been in trouble a lot of the time, as her parents were gone a lot of the time. But the Fox had been pretty, and worth her parents leaving. Violenta grinned, when she was older she'd have a Fox Patronus, and cut her annoying hair, and she would get to see her parents more. Because she'd protect her Grandmother, so her parents didn't have to do it.
The water continued to trickle down from the foutain.
Violenta was woken from her dream by a concerned, smiling Thea. "Violenta, what's wrong? You were dreaming, and crying, and-" Violenta interupted her.
"Don't worry, Thea." She murmered bitterly. "It was just a dream.
~Line~
Dumbledore had called an 'Inner Circle' meeting. That usually considered of the main members of the Order, the people who couldn't be done away with. Their identies were protected fiercly, and all Violenta knew was that there was five of them including Dumbledore and another, who'd she only ever called Snipe. Snipe was the esponage master, Violenta's only real contact with anybody while on a mission. The other three, Violenta guessed, where the other key members of the Order, without it couldn't function. What was unusual about this certain Inner Circle meeting, was that Violenta was informed she was to attend.
It had been nearly two weeks since the dreams had started, and three since that faithful history lesson. Even weeks later, the memory had the ability to crack her up. Black had been so vulnerable, despite not admitting his defeat. But the dreams where robbing her of any satisfaction she got from his humiliation. They were always in the early hours of the morning, just as the sun was starting its long journey back into the skies. But the things they spoke of hurt the most. Violenta's mother, Iva, and father, Edward, were constant chracters in these remeniscences.
Shrugging of herpain at the dream, Violenta shouldered Dumbledore's door open. Inside, he was awaiting her, inpractically coloured travelling cloat and hat upon his head. Also wearing a travelling cloak, of a more reserved dark blue, Violenta had her wand in it's case upon her left wrist. Knives and other sharp objects that could hurt or maim were located all over her body. Violenta had learned early on that many wizards didn't learn hand to hand fighting, simply because they believed that magic was always superious. She didn't see why you had to waste magical energy on an Avada Kadavra, when a simple knife in the right place would do.
Without any words of greeting, Dumbledore jumped right into it.
"You are not usually invited to the Inner Circle meetings, can you guess why you are this one?" Despite his obvious glee in lording the information over her, Violenta actually thought about the question. It wasn't because of a break through in her mission, that was been dead in the sand, as Violenta had had no progress since figuring out that Bloombadges' lover was an infamous Ravenclaw named Madison Heartridge, a halfblood. Since then, Violenta had discovered; Crabbe, Vincent was to dumb to play a crucial role in the war, even if he was a Death Eater, and that Edan, Clarissa, despite her abnormal sex drive and egotistical behaviour, was like one to many girls in Slytherin. She was now looking into Hepburn, Ambrose, Ani's brother, but wasn't expecting much. He was an A-grade student, had never had a detention or a relationship. Really, Violenta thought he was more suited to Ravenclaw than Slytherin.
There was no other reason she would have been invited to the meeting, and even then, all crutial infromation would have been passed through Snipe and Dumbledore. Unless... No. Snipe was too good.
"I have no idea Albus, please inlighten me." Dumbledore's eyes sobered.
"Snipe was killed on his mission last week. You have been chosen as his successor." Air flooded out of Violenta's chest. She hadn't known Snipe outside of esponage, infact even then her experiences with him hadn't been that extrodinary. Violenta reminded herself, as she did every time this happend, that in her line of work, death was almost a job description.
Her mind spun to why in the world she would be chosen as successor. Being Snipe's replacement would double her work load, multiple times. She would have to over see, although not participate in, all of the esponage mission that the Order was relying on. All information from any of the Order's many spies would have to be filtered by her, before being given to the Order, and Dumbledore. Suspicion formed.
"Why would you choose me?"
Dumbledore sighed. "You were the logical choice. You have been trained from a young age, your parents were in the Order and your bloodties to me eradicate all suspicion on your character." Ah yes. Blood ties with Dumbledore. The thought would have made her shiver if she didn't know it was true. Dumbledore sighed, as if what he was going to say would be hard. "And, you are highly skilled. No mission you have ever undertaken has ever been unsuccessful, despite the losses that have been taken." It was a backhand compliment. And the death's around Violenta hadn't always been her fault. It was just that early on in her career as a, well, spy, around fourteen, it had become obvious that she didn't work well with others. She was too secretive and impulsive to rely upon others. The breakdown of comunication had led to some near disasters, but luckily no deaths that were avoidable. Still, since then, the Order had learned to let Violenta be by herself.
"Would I have to loose this mission?" The thought, oddly, filled her with dread, and Violenta realised she rather liked the normality of school, even if she was spending her spare time spying upon the future-Death Eaters.
Dumbledore shook his head, eyes down. "Not as of yet. Despite your lack of success, it is usful to have someone on the lookout other than me. You will continue your mission, until such a time that I declare it finished." Relief filled Violenta, but she couldn't help but poke holes in his answer.
"What about the work load?" She knew that there would be very little time to spare if she was organising everything as well as herself.
"You will just have to make do. If necessary, let your grades drop down. You never know, it might actually help with your investigation if your grades were lower." About to ask another question, Violenta was interupted by the Headmaster standing. "We must leave now or we'll be late." Gesturing for her to take his arm, despite her own ability to apparate by herself, he prepared himself to leave. It was common knowledge that the Headmaster could apparate in and out of his office within the Upper Slytherins. Violenta had no idea how they knew this, but they did.
Taking his arm, she prepared herself for the uncomforatable sensation of disappearating.
~Line~
James Potter, alone in his Head Commonroom, was for once, studying without the precense of Remus. But he did have a reason. Lily, at that moment was making her way back from meeting with her friends, and it would be the perfect time to show of hi new found 'responsibility.'
The black haired boy stared down at the essay infront of him. It wasn't like Slughorn to be intentionally cruel, but it seemed he had chosen the one essay question that James had no chance of completing. Or maybe because Remus wasn't present. Groaning, James settled back for a long night of studying. "...The Wolfbane Potion, without doubt, is one of the most far fetched potion theories since the days of Merlin. Despite the brilliance of Brewen Culdran's potion mind, and his many successes in the past, this potion is doomed for failure. In the passed three hundred years, multiple scholars and Potioneers have tried to replicate and follow this theory to its end, and none have succeeded..."
The writer was biased, James noted. He also noted that, despite the authors dislike of the potion theory, he didn't seem to able to comunicate what the potion theory was about. James, eyes rolling back into his head, sighed and chucked the book to the side. Essay-in-progress sitting infront of him, James was about to give up, finding his inlightenment in Remus' copy, when the door burst open. Despite years of inadequet Defense teacher, James had Chaser reflexes, and was on his feet in an instant, wand a second behind.
All that met him was the obviously distressed and angered expression of Lily Evans. Fortunately, her anger didn't seem to be toward him, at least yet.
"Oh. It's just you." Despite the fire in her eyes, her voice was quiet and defeated.
"What's wrong Lily?" James asked, wand back in pocket. The red head just shook her head rapidly.
"I don't want to talk about it."
With the same gentle tone he'd used before, James approached her as if she were a frightend, angry lion, albeit beautiful. "Lily, com'on. Just sit down for a moment." James knew better then to ask her what was wrong. She studied him with wide green eyes for a moment, then nodded. She settled on one of the seats near the fire. James noted wryly that he wouldn't be able to sit next her like that. Taking a place opposite her, James set about being the comforting friend he wanted to be.
"What happend?"
Lily sighed, palming her forehead before answering. "I really don't want to talk about it Jam- Potter." James almost smiled at her near use of his first name.
"Yes you do, or you'll go to bed angry, wake up angry, and piss off all of your friends." That was true. It had happend many times in the past, althoug no one held a grudge.
Lily gave a consenting sigh. "You're just as annoying as ever Potter." Then she proceeded to tell him what was wrong.
It turned out she'd run into A few of the Slytherin cronies, some related to Sirius, who had abused her blood status. Marlene had dealt with them, but their words weren't the things that had upsett the redhead.
"Seve- Snape was there." It was a sign of James' growing maturity that he didn't launch into an anti-Snape spiel.
"He is a Slytherin." It was the one comment he could make without seeming rude. Yet, Lily still glared.
"No, he let them call me names." James failed to see it. He'd already made a mental note to terrorise the Slytherins because of the upsett against her. If Snape had said something...
"You mean he called you- names?" James had grown up with taunts like Mudblood, and Bloodtraitor, and had always had to moniter his language around Lily. She was already shaking her head, green eyes gleaming with anger and unshead tears.
"No, but he didn't stop them from doing it."
It was tehn that James had an eipiffany. He'd always seen Snape as a tag-along with Lily. She put up with his company because he was her first friend in the wizarding world. He'd never thought that Snape had done things to deserve such friendship. This confrontation told him that Snape usually fielded the other's name calling. Lily had actually lost something when she lost Snape.
Thinking that she'd lost his attention, Lily glanced around the room for another topic, and finally spotted the textbook James had been using for his essay.
"Are you doing research for Remus?" She asked, reading the title of the Potion Theory upside down. James jerked up, brown eyes wide and searching, before realising that she'd seent the article.
"You... You know?" James asked hoarsely, face pale and eyes shocked. Lily bit her lip tightly, suddenly realising her mistake.
"I... Um... Well you see-" Lily interupted herself with a sigh. "I can't talk myself out of it, can I?" James mutely shook his head. "Well..." Lily drifted off, truely unable to think of what to say.
Meanwhile, James was have an internal battle. He was proud of Lily for figuring it out, happy that he didn't have to keep it a secret from her, worried that she'd shun him for it, and terrified that she'd judge Remus because of it. Her expression was one of curiousity and nervousness (James absently noted that he'd gotten good at reading her expressions), but not one of rage or fear. Hesitantly, he asked the first question, breaking the almost awkward silence.
"How did you figure it out?" She apparently found this slightly offensive, as she raised an eyebrow dubiously at him.
"I'm not blind James, I know where he goes every month." Slightly thrilled she'd called him James without knowing it, he tried to act as if nothing happend.
"How long have you known?" When he told Remus, after calming him down of course, that was the first thing he'd want to know.
Lily did some quick mental calculations. "Around third year, start of fourth. Marlene was starting to get interesting in Black, so I spent more than a little time with her stalking you guys."
James' eyes widend. She'd known for nearly as long as he and the boys. The stalking bit would amuse Sirius to no end, despite how far the Marlene ship had sailed. Then a thought stopped him cold.
"Have you told anyone else?" Again, Lily looked angry at his question, but the anger from before had eased from her eyes.
"Of course I haven't told anyone else, I'm not an idiot!" Sighing in relief, James realised he had nothing much else to ask. Desparate to keep the conversation going, as it was the longest one he'd ever had with Lily, even if for half of it she'd been close to hitting him.
Finally he settled on something. Ignoring all the warnings from his friends, and all the well made plans he'd had, and blurted it out.
"Lily, will you go out with me?"
Lily stared blandly at him for a moment, before standing and striding toward her bedroom, slamming the bedroom. James sighed in dissapointment.
"Back to square one." James muttered, turning back to the text book, when he noticed Lily hadn't even commented on his responsibility. "Back to damned square one."
Luckly for the red head, James hadn't seen the grin that had covered her face as she'd stormed to her room.
Until Highschool, I always thought holidays were for relaxing. Unfortunately this isn't true, and so, this chapter is almost three weeks late. My bad. I'll try to me more promp next time, not promises though :P
I have a few questions for the more knowledgable HP fans:
1- Which year were the Marauders in when Snape called Lily a Mudblood?
2- And, which year were they in when Sirius got Snape attacked my Remus?
I have a feeling they were both in fifth year, but I'm probably wrong :P
Thank for listening to my rant, all reviewers, favourites and followers are thanked ever so much, and any to be reviewers, favouriters and followers are also thanked :P You brighten my day.
Thanks 3
