Chapter 11: The Order of the Phoenix, Part 2
I draw my wand from the inside of my dress robes, eyes darting around the room.
"Who are you?" Fabian calls. "Show yourself!"
The spy stayed silent. I felt James move closer to me, his wand drawn and eyes intense.
"Show yourself!" Fabian calls again.
A jet of red light shot out from near the door, and all four of us threw ourselves onto the floor, out of the way of curse. Stumbling to my feet, I managed to untangle myself from the mass of bodies first and threw a Stunning spell on the general direction of the door. The curse hit the wall and bounced off, narrowly missing Gideon.
"Lily, stay behind me!" James grabs my wrist and pulls me close to him. My heart starts to beat faster, but this is no time for hormones. I wrench my arm from his grip.
"No! I'm fighting!"
Another jet of light erupts from the wand of our invisible attacker, and we all duck again.
"Coward!" Gideon shouts, aiming a curse at the corner of the room. The invisible attacker responds with another jet of light.
"There! By the curtains!" James shouts, aiming a curse in the direction of the red light. I send three spells in succession to follow James', and this time only two of them bounce off the wall.
"I think I hit him!" I yell to the others. "Aim there!"
Fabian, Gideon, and James shoot their spells where I tell them, and the spy responds with another two spells. James and Fabian duck, but Gideon is not fast enough and is launched backwards.
"Gideon!" I exclaim, running over to where he is lying, unconscious, on the floor. "Ennervate! Ennervate!" I jab my wand at Gideon, but he doesn't wake. It must not have been a Stunning spell.
"Leave him, Lily!" Fabian tells me, shooting more spells at random.
A spell grazes my shoulder, and I dive out of the way. Leaving Gideon reluctantly, I rejoin the fray.
"What was that?" James yells. "There, look! There it is again!"
I see it too. It's the edge of a cloak. The fabric whips through the air, and I aim a spell at it.
"He's under a Disillusionment charm!" I exclaim. "It's wearing off!"
Fabian sends a curse in the direction of the flying fabric, but the spy deflects it. James aims a curse high at the same time as I aim a curse low, and we hear a low grunt.
"I think we got him!" James exclaims, but he has spoken too soon. Fabian cries out, and when we whirl around to him, we meet the same fate.
Three men stand in the doorway, wands raised, and they send ropes flying out to bind us together. It happens to fast for me to block, and my arm, pinned against Fabian's. The spy's Disillusionment Charm has worn off, and I gasp as I recognize him as the sinister man who watched us leave the ballroom. However, upon closer observation, I realize that he is not a man at all; he can't be much older than Fabian. He smirks and joins the other three men, who are advancing on us.
"Take their wands, Nott," he orders, and one of his cronies nonverbally disarms us.
"Avery," Fabian spits. "Why am I not surprised?"
Avery. I recognized the name. He graduated several years above James and I, and whenever I heard his name pronounced while in school, it was out of fear.
"Ah, Fabian Prewett," says Avery, the sinister man, silkily. "I hoped we would meet again.
"Clearly," says Fabian dryly. "Hiding behind doors? Disillusionment charms? Doesn't sound at all like you wanted to meet us at all."
"Is this really the place for sarcasm?" Avery replied lightly. "We have wands. You do not. I'd watch my mouth if I were you."
"Bloody coward," James tells Avery. "You only show yourself when you've got three mates behind you and your opposition tied up and disarmed."
"You can talk of cowardice and bravery all you like, but no one is going to be thinking about bravery at Lily Evan's funeral."
I feel my blood run cold.
"So that's it, then?" I say, with strength I didn't know I had. "You're just going to kill me, right here?"
"Avery, I'm sick of all this talk," interrupts one of Avery's cronies, the tallest and broadest of them all. "Let's call the Dark Lord already."
"Dolohov, I believe it was I who was put in charge of this mission," Avery snaps. "I decide when the Dark Lord is called."
"Just let me know when you've finished gloating," Dolohov grumbles. Avery ignores this slight and rounds on us again.
"Your fate is up to the Dark Lord," Avery tells me, and I am disgusted by the sick reverence in his voice when he speaks his master's title. "However, Mudbloods are rather expendable to him. The Prewett and Potter boys will prove to be far more useful—"
"DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT!" James roars at Avery, and the sheer volume makes him flinch. However, he is quick to hitch his face back, and laughs softly.
"I'd watch your mouth if I were you," Avery says softly. "You can't hide behind your blood status much longer; blood traitor is just as bad as Mudblood scum—"
"Lily is four times the wizard you are," James snarls. "If you were half the person she is, you would untie us and fight me like a man."
Avery simply laughs.
"I don't think you understand; I don't care. All that matters is that I have won and you have lost. How these things come about is inconsequential."
A jet of red light erupts from the door, and Avery falls to the floor, his Stunned face still smirking. James, Fabian, and I turn to the doorway and see Mr. Potter and a man with a scarred face whom I don't recognize with their wands raised.
"Expelliarmous!" growls the scarred man, and the wands of Avery's cronies fly into his hand. At the same time, Mr. Potter waves his wand, and strings of golden light bind the three attackers.
"Every time you struggle, those will get tighter," Mr. Potter warns viciously before turning to us. The expression on his face is enough to make me wish he had never intervened; I would prefer a confrontation with Avery. I see James out of the corner of my eye, and he is looking at the ground.
The scarred man goes over to Gideon's motionless body and says, "Ennervate." Gideon doesn't stir.
"I already tried that," I tell him. "He's been more than Stunned."
"I'll take 'im to St. Mungo's," says the scarred man to Mr. Potter. "You can deal with this lot."
The man conjures a stretcher out of thin air, levitates Gideon onto it, and Dissaparates.
Without saying a word, Mr. Potter waves his wand and the ropes binding Fabian, James, and I together fall away. We untangle ourselves quickly and sheepishly get up.
Mr. Potter does not turn to us. Instead, he says, softly, "Expecto patronum," and a huge stag erupted from the tip of his wand. Speaking directly to the stag, Mr. Potter says, "Three spies are held at the Potter Manor."
He waves his wand again and the stag nodds and gallops through the wall and into the night.
Mr. Potter then conjures up four blindfolds and magicked them over the eyes of the four Death Eaters. For the first time, he turns to us and points to an empty picture frame on the bookshelf. Waving his wand again, it glows blue.
"Take this portkey. Wait for me there. Do nothing else."
His tone is too intense for us to argue, so we file over to the bookshelf and grab hold of the picture frame. I feel the familiar feeling of compression and spinning that comes with portkey travel, and I gasp for air when I feel my feet hit the ground. Fabian and James touch down next to me, and we drop the picture frame.
We are in the dark, so I pull my wand from my dress robes and say, "Lumos maxima," and light floods the room. By the looks of it, we are in the kitchen of a small cottage.
"Where are we?" James asks Fabian.
"It's a safehouse," says Fabian. "One of many that the Order utilizes."
"Yes, we'd gathered as much," I say shortly, "but where are we? Specifically?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that."
"You've already told us loads of stuff you weren't supposed to," I point out, "you might as well just tell us this."
"I can't," Fabian repeated. "I actually physically can't. It's been made Unplottable, and only the secret keepers can say the name of the place. But I've been here before."
He goes over to the cabinets and makes some tea for all of us. James and I sit down at the table and sip our hot tea gingerly.
"Who else is hidden like I am?" I ask Fabian as he sits down across from James.
"I…don't think I should tell you that, either," Fabian replies. "It's not that I don't trust you…it's just…the fewer people who know, the better."
"I understand," I say, sipping more of my tea, though I am disappointed that I'm not permitted to know who else is in the same position as me.
"Are any of them staying here right now?" James asks, and Fabian shakes his head.
"No. We're alone."
Everyone is quiet, and the silence of the house surrounds us eerily. I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
"So what happens now?" James asks Fabian.
Fabian presses his palms flat against his thighs and sighs. "Damage control."
I can't deny this. Neither can James.
"Your dad's gonna kill us," I groan to James, putting my face in my hands. James rubs my back comfortingly.
"Yeah…he probably will," James admits gloomily.
"Not exactly what I wanted to hear," I say, my voice muffled.
"How long do you think we have left to live?" I hear James ask Fabian. Fabian sighs again, loudly.
"Well, we fucked up. Big time." I hear him sigh again. "I think we're looking at memory modifications for everyone at the party. But I don't think your father can be too angry with you, as this little fiasco here has at least resulted in the capture of four assumed Death Eaters."
"Have you captured many?" I ask, lifting my face from my hands.
"No," says Fabian, running a hand through his curly brown hair. "Unfortunately, they're a bit tricky. We've gotten a few. This lot happened to be a bit dimmer than the rest, however."
"How do you know Avery?" James wants to know.
"We were in school together," says Fabian disgustedly. "He was around two years above me—nasty kid, even in third year. He knew more about Dark magic than the Defense professor. Scared the shit out of me, quite frankly. But he was never too bright. He was held back his fifth year for not getting enough O.W.L.s, and obviously, we never got on well. When I was Prefect, I stopped him from messing with the underclassmen and he didn't appreciate that. I think I took more points from him than I ever took from everyone else combined. We got into a few scrapes, and I think he's been looking forward for a chance to get me since school…although I have to say I feel the same way."
"Well, looks like you won," I say dryly. James yawns loudly, removing his hand from my back so he can stretch. The place where his hand used to be still feels warm. "What time is it?"
"Nearly two in the morning," Fabian replies, checking his watch. "We should probably go to bed."
"Yeah, we're going to need all the strength we can get to make it through my whatever my dad's got planned," James says ruefully. He gets up from the table, and Fabian and I follow suit.
"Where can we sleep?" I ask.
"Well, there's only one bedroom," Fabian says, gesturing to a door off to the right. "Lily, why don't you take the bedroom and we'll sleep in the front room?"
"No way am I letting you two sleep on the floor," I say flatly.
"No, really, it's alright," James insists. "You don't mind, do you, Fabian?"
"Well…actually, I wouldn't mind sleeping on the bed," Fabian admits shiftily. "I mean, it's been a long day." James rolls his eyes at Fabian and I clap my hands together.
"It's settled. Fabian can take the bedroom and James and I will take the front room."
"I think there are some spare blankets in the closet." Fabian goes into the adjacent room and comes out a few moments later laden with blankets. "Here."
James takes them, and we make our way to the front room.
"Let's move this table," I suggest, indicating the coffee table in the middle of the room.
"Why?"
"There's not enough room for both of us on the floor."
"You're not sleeping on the floor," James informs me.
"Then where do you suggest I sleep?"
He spreads the blanket that Fabian gave him on the couch. "There."
"But there's only one blanket," I point out.
"I'm wearing a jacket."
"You're going to be a lot less gallant when you wake up tomorrow morning with a cold," I say, but James seems unfazed.
"But then you'd have to take care of me," James says, eyes twinkling. "Bring me soup, feel my forehead, nurse me back to health…"
I huff, crossing my arms and sending a few tendrils of hair flying from my forehead. James mocks me in an exaggerated manner, pulling a face and messing up his own hair. I hate it when he does that; he somehow manages to make himself sexier. And he knows it.
"If that's how you think it's going to be, then I have news for you, because the instant you ask me for soup I'm going to pour it on your—HEY!" Before I can do a thing about it, James picks me up and in his arms. "JAMES. POTTER. YOU. PUT. ME. DOWN. THIS. INSTANT."
"If you insist," he says, laughing, and he drops me down on the couch.
"Not what I meant!" I try to get off the couch, but James grabs me around the middle and pulls me back. I struggle, hitting his chest, but he just laughs at me, and within a few seconds, I'm laughing too.
"Gotcha," James whispers into my ear, and he pushes me down on the couch so I am lying on my back and he is on top of me, pinning my shoulders down, his face inches from mine.
Is it possible for your heart to go a million miles a minute even though you've stopped breathing?
Neither of us are laughing anymore. I can feel my pulse in my arms, legs, feet, and hands, and when I raise a hand to touch James' chest, I feel his heart beat just as rapidly as mine. I wonder if they are in sync.
Time has slowed down. I watch James blink, and his eyelid moves in slow motion. I want this to happen, but I'm praying that it will last, and I'm glad that everything is happening slowly. It gives me time to feel everything, and commit it to memory.
He is so close that the tips of our eyelashes are almost touching. My body is on fire, and I'm very aware of every place his body touches mine. He draws closer, and I find myself lifting my head, parting my lips, almost against my will—
"Are you guys oka—oh."
James and I spring apart; time has returned to normal speed. Within a millisecond, James is on the other side of the room, and I'm struggling to sit up and look as though nothing had happened.
"We were just—"
"It's not what—"
"Hey, hey, no explanations necessary," says Fabian, eyebrows raised and holding his hands up as if in surrender and walking back to his room. "None of my business. I didn't see a-a-a-anything."
Long after we hear Fabian close his door, James still makes no movement back towards me. Both of us sit, embarrassed and confused, on different sides of the room. I can feel a whole mess of emotions inside of my heart, but the only one I can pick out at the moment is disappointment.
I cover myself with the blanket, and lay down on my side, exhaling.
"So…I guess I'll just take the couch then."
Mr. and Mrs. Potter are in the kitchen when I wake up. Leaving James sleeping on the floor, I carefully step over him, smoothing my dress robes, and take a seat next to Fabian, who is poring over a bowl of cereal. I try not to make eye contact with anyone as I pour my own bowl.
We eat in silence for a time. I don't know if it's a few minutes or half an hour, but I know that Mr. Potter is the first to break it.
"Where is James?" he asks stiffly. Neither Fabian nor I answer; I think we both expect the other person to offer an explanation. After the time allotted for an appropriate response has ended, I say, very shyly, "He's sleeping. On the floor."
"Go wake him up, Frances," Mr. Potter tells his wife. His tone is even.
When Mrs. Potter comes back with James, bleary-eyed and yawning, she doesn't stay in the kitchen. She passes us and goes down the hall, shutting the door of the room Fabian slept in. I swear I hear James gulp.
I'm looking at my hands, which I'm wringing in my lap, as I hear the scrape of a chair across the floor.
"Sit," says Mr. Potter, and I see James do as he says out of the corner of my eye. Bracing myself for the worst, I force myself to look up at Mr. Potter. He paces across the kitchen, and I can feel my palms start to sweat. I wipe them on my dress robes.
"I hope I don't need to tell you how reckless you three were," he says, his voice still even and steady, but I can tell that any moment, he could explode. "Fabian, I am very disappointed in you. You know the rules; you very nearly exposed the entire Order."
Fabian did not reply.
"It makes me wonder whether you are worthy of being a member."
Fabian's head snaps up. "Mr. Potter—"
"You took an oath, Fabian, to never reveal the secrets of the Order to anybody. That doesn't just mean Death Eaters, it means everyone, and we have that rule to avoid situations like the one we are in now!" His voice seemed to get progressively louder with every word. "You jeopardized your life, your brother's life, and the lives of my children!"
I don't want to be here right now, but I can't see a way out of the situation. I resume my previous practice of not looking at anyone at all, and instead try to focus on picking at my fingernails.
"How—how is Gideon?" asks Fabian tentatively, but anxiously.
"He's fine," Mr. Potter spits. "Moody is staying with him at St. Mungo's."
"I want to go see him."
I notice the way my cuticle is growing over my thumb nail.
"You will do nothing of the kind!" Mr. Potter yells. "Do you realize the position we are in? Are you really that thick? We have been found out!"
"But I thought you arrested Avery," Fabian says.
"Yes, we arrested them, and they now await trial in Azkaban. But we don't know if they had a chance to spread their knowledge before coming to attack you four! We must stay in hiding until we are sure that no one will come for us."
I chip away at the nail on my first finger.
"So…we're going to stay here?" asks James. "For how long?"
"As long as it takes to ensure that no other Death Eaters know that Lily is Melina!" Mr. Potter exclaims, and I feel another pang of guilt in my stomach. The Potter's are so inconvenienced, all because of me. I press my palms onto my thighs to keep from picking at my nails anymore.
"And you two." Mr. Potter rounds on James and I. "What were you thinking, sneaking off by yourselves?"
"We were with Gideon and Fabian!" James protests, but Mr. Potter holds up a hand to silence his son.
"Yes, and look what happened! You knew there were suspected Death Eaters at that party—I would have though my son would have enough sense not to give them a reason to attack!"
"Why did you invite Death Eaters to our house in the first place?" James yells, standing from his chair and advancing towards his father.
"The decisions of the Order of the Phoenix are none of your business!"
"Why not? They're your business, they're Fabian's business—why can't they be mine, too?"
"Because you're sixteen, James!" Mr. Potter throws his hands in the air. "You can't go a month at school without us getting a letter about you Transfiguring someone's fingers into tentacles! You can't think things through! You're reckless, you're irresponsible, and you're underage! You couldn't even keep Lily's secret from Remus. How can I expect you to keep a hundred secrets from the people you love when you can't even keep that one?"
"Fabian couldn't keep it, either!" James roars, throwing a hand in the general direction of his friend.
"I'm furious at Fabian, but he is not my responsibility, and I'll be damned if I put my immature teenage son in the line of fire!"
"Maybe if you were around a bit more you would notice that I'm not so immature!"
For a moment, I think Mr. Potter is going to explode, and I try to become as small as possible while sitting in my chair. He takes a breath, and lets it out, and when he speaks, his voice is low and dangerous.
"I am out there trying to make a difference in this world, so maybe you don't have to live like this forever." Mr. Potter takes a step closer to James. "And if you can't understand that, then you are every bit as immature as I think you are."
Without giving James a chance to respond, Mr. Potter turns on his heel and joins his wife in their bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
You'd think that sharing a tiny cottage with a family who won't speak to each other would be awkward…and you'd be very, very right. There is only one bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen and a living room, which makes avoiding people rather difficult.
The only time I'm alone is in the morning. Everyone else is asleep and I can eat my cereal in peace. As I pour myself a bowl of cereal, I revel in the brief moments where I don't feel obligated to diffuse awkward situations.
"Lily?"
I drop the cereal box in surprise as I turn around in my chair to find James ruffling his hair, still in his pajamas.
"James, you scared me."
He sits down next to me and pulls a bowl in front of him. "Sorry. I just wanted to speak with you."
"Yeah, yeah that's fine," I reply, regaining my composure. "What did you want to talk about?"
"I just wanted to talk… about…this." James seems flustered, and he gestures to the space between us with one hand.
"Oh." As if on command, my heart begins to race.
"I…I know this is probably not a great idea, since the last time I tried to say…anything…we…well…" I let him trail off. He clears his throat. "Anyways."
"So is there anything in particular that you, uh, want to say?" I ask him, trying not to wring my hands or play with my hair out of nerves. For the first time in the entire conversation, he makes eye contact and I see everything that he's about to say in his eyes. They bore into me, exploring my thoughts and feelings, and I can tell that he knows everything about me already. He has a way of seeing through me, every single time.
"Lily," he says in a low voice. "You know how I feel about you. I…I tried to get over you, but I can't and I…I can't explain it. Have you ever known something so…inherently…that nothing anyone can say to you to change your mind? I…Lily, it isn't fair, because you know exactly where I stand, and I can't know for sure if you—"
"Good morning!" Mrs. Potter bustles into the kitchen in her dressing gown, making both of us jump. I didn't realize how close we had come to each other. "You two have had enough cereal. Let me—did I interrupt something?"
Her eyes find us for the first time.
"No," I say quickly, but at the same time, James says, "Yes." When he realizes that I have contradicted him, however, he stares at me, and I can see the hurt in his eyes.
"Well, which is it?" Mrs. Potter wants to know, looking bewilderedly between us.
"I think Lily just told you," James tells his mother bitterly, getting up from his chair, and I understand that I have been grossly misunderstood.
"No, James, that's not what I—"
"I'm going to bed," James snaps.
"What in Merlin's name is going on with you two?" Mrs. Potter demands.
"Nothing!" James and I both snap. At least we're on the same page for once.
Luckily, the protective charms put on the safe house extend through the yard outside, which I discover on the fourth day of our stay. James still won't speak to me, which means I have no close friends for company. I just want to explain to him that I was trying to avoid another awkward situation, but it appears all I've succeeded in doing is creating a new awkward situation. I just can't seem to get anything right, can I?
"Lily!" I hear someone call my name from inside the cottage. I think it's Fabian. "Lily! Come inside!"
He sounds urgent, so I abandon my thoughts and go back into the safe house. I arrive in the kitchen to find Moody and Gideon, who looks a little tired but no worse for the wear.
"Gideon!" I say, and in my relief, I give him a hug. I feel him wince, and I immediately let go. "Sorry. I'm just glad you're alright."
"Thanks, Lily," Gideon says weakly. "We just arrived by portkey."
"What did they do to you?" Fabian wants to know, but Moody shakes his head.
"We still dunno," he says. "The Healers couldn't figure it out. They put him right in the end, though. Must've been some nasty Dark curse, a variation of the Stunning spell."
"We're all glad you're okay," says Mrs. Potter anxiously.
"When is it safe to go home?" James asks Moody, who shrugs.
"We've been working as hard as we can, but it's difficult to know who knows what, especially when they aren't talking," Moody says gruffly. "I'd imagine it'll be at least another month—we're preparing a larger safe house, as this one is a little smaller than ideal."
"I've been meaning to ask something," says Gideon, now sitting at the table. "We put protective enchantments around that room when we explained the Order to James and Lily. How did you guys get in?" He looks at Mr. Potter, who rolls his eyes.
"Fabian said it himself," Mr. Potter says. "There's a taboo on the name. We were tipped off."
"Were you ever going to tell us any of this?" James demands, and I can hear that dangerous quality in his voice that means he is about to argue with someone.
"James…" says his mother warningly, but Mr. Potter holds up a hand to stop her.
"Yes, we were," he replies shortly, "when you were of age and eligible to join. Now, James, Lily, go outside. We have matters to discuss."
"We already know about the Order, so you may as well—"
"James. Go." Mr. Potter points to the door, and his voice is so dangerous that not even James dares to respond. A nasty expression on his face, James follows his father's finger, and doesn't bother holding the door for me. It slams in my face.
I have to jog slightly to catch up with him—he really does have extraordinarily long legs.
"James, wait up."
He only walks faster.
"James, I just want to talk to you. Please hear me out."
"I already heard you, loud and clear," James tells me, still walking ahead.
"You don't understand, I was just trying—"
"No, Lily, you don't understand." James whirls around, and grabs my wrist. "I love you. I am in love with you, and there is no other girl in the world who I could ever compare to you. And I thought that maybe, just maybe, you might feel the same way—"
"But James, I—"
"You lead me on, Lily, knowing exactly how I feel about you!" He's yelling now, and I try to recoil but his hand his still gripping my wrist. "I'm not playing games with you anymore! If you think that this situation is so unimportant that you can't take ten extra seconds to tell me that you love me too, then I'm done."
But before I can tell him that I was just trying to keep Mrs. Potter from asking us awkward questions, or that I have certainly spent more than ten seconds trying to get James to talk to me so I can explain, he drops my wrist and stalks away around the side of the cottage.
The light wakes me up.
The sun is rising; I can see the chinks of light streaming down from the gaps in the curtains, falling perfectly on James' form, lying on the floor next to the couch. If it weren't for this bit of furniture, I realize, we would be sleeping together. I let my arm fall and brush the top of his head, my fingers lightly running through his silky hair. He is sleeping on his side, and I watch his chest rise and fall for a while, his nostrils flaring slightly with ever breath. There is a smile playing on his lips, and it makes me want to know what he is dreaming about.
I realize that I hope it's me.
"James?" I whisper, my fingers still absently playing with his hair. He shifts a little in his sleep, but doesn't wake up. "James."
"Mmm?" His eyelids flutter, but don't open.
"You know I love you, right?" I say, so softly that it almost doesn't come out.
"Mm-hm." James rolls over onto his stomach.
I let my fingers trail down his cheek. "Good."
A/N: So there you have it! Chapter 11! Please tell me what you think-I feel like this chapter was really choppy, but I couldn't think of anything else to put...anyways, you guys did so awesome with your reviews last chapter! When I saw 200, I was like screaming. You guys are AWESOME :) And now since school is out, I will have much more time to write, so updates will come much faster!