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I'm sure you've all heard of Saturday Night Fever with John Travolta, but if not, you can YouTube the opening scene. Try not to laugh.
This chapter is pretty long, but obviously you don't have to read it in one sitting. Sorry for any typos - PM if you spot anything that just doesn't make sense. I hope you enjoy it, and please review! :)
At Jack's urging, James and Sirius returned to Hogwarts three days after Rosie's funeral. "She wouldn't want you moping about here, not when you have N.E.W.T.s to prepare for," he told them, and so they left him with the promise to visit at the weekend.
Gryffindor tower hadn't felt quite the same in the absence of its two kings. To Lily, it felt like a puzzle with pieces missing, and when they stepped into the common room that afternoon, the puzzle was complete again. But neither boy was himself, both still grieving in their quiet ways. It was more evident with James, mainly because he didn't share Sirius' penchant for masking his inner struggles, and Lily sensed his despair as it clung to him daily.
Despite being surrounded by friends, there was something so isolating about grief, Lily thought, and she knew that however she was feeling, James was dealing with it tenfold. During the funeral service, he had been despondent, barely able to hold his head up. Occasionally his brows would knit together as tears forced their way out, but then his eyes would close and his jaw would tighten as he fought his anguish. She held his hand the entire time, trying to be strong, but knowing her own parents were a few rows behind her made it impossible not to feel the weight of their mortality as well.
So much had changed since New Year's Eve. Rosie was alive, and now she wasn't, all in the span of a fortnight. Before she passed, Lily and Annabelle had visited every day after classes along with Remus and Peter, spending a couple hours in the evening there, hoping to provide some comfort. Alice had come with them a few times, as well as Johnny B. and Caradoc. They knew she didn't have long, but they still weren't prepared for the news when they stepped out of the hearth and into the Potters' living room on that bleak Tuesday afternoon.
Now, James was having trouble focusing on his studies, his thoughts with his absent mother, and his grieving father, alone in that massive house. He talked less, ate less, and more often than not, he retreated to his room whenever he could, the effort it took to carry on as usual having exhausted him by sundown. He often preferred to be alone, and when he wasn't, he was detached from his friends, struggling to cope. Death was worse for the living, Lily was sure of it.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
The first day of internships arrived a week after the boys' return, and on a grey Friday afternoon, when classes were over for the day, James trudged off to St. Mungo's while Lily headed to Diagon Alley to learn how to make ice cream. Annabelle would be at the Ministry along with Alice and Peter, Johnny B. at his mum's salon, Caradoc at the bakery along with Phyllis Meadowes (who loved baking, despite her lack of talent,) Remus at the Prophet, and Sirius, who had decided to participate after all, at the Department of Magical Games and Sport, which was also at the Ministry.
Several other seventh-years were assigned to the Ministry as well. Jacoby Ollivander would be in the same department as Sirius, and Septima Scroggie would be in Peter's department, The Office of Misinformation. A handful of others, including Benjy Fenwick, joined Alice in the Auror department, which had been recruiting heavily in response to Voldemort - interns would free more of the Aurors' time by helping with reports and other clerical duties. Perhaps the biggest shock was finding out that Slytherin Esmeralda Roux would be interning with Annabelle.
"A strange choice for her," Alice had whispered to Annabelle and Sirius.
"Don't trust her," Sirius advised.
He needn't have warned her, because Annabelle knew better than to trust the flirty Slytherin, known for her friendship with Elsinore Collins, Delilah Burke, and Teagan Travers. She was not the obvious candidate for a department that specialised in humanitarian work. Annabelle had never had a personal issue with the girl, but she had always wondered if Esmeralda knew what Elsinore was plotting the previous autumn along with Malachi Malfoy and Severus Snape. Clearly, Sirius thought she had.
There was an orientation, in which a woman called Menadarva Penmayne sent them through the process of getting security clearance and identification tags. When they reconvened in the Atrium, she gave them a tour of the building, a run-down of evacuation procedures, and a handbook of Ministry policies. Sirius could barely tolerate the tedium of it all, and couldn't wait to get back to the castle. He hoped James was faring better at St. Mungo's, and Remus at the Daily Prophet, although he imagined they had their own dull orientations to muddle through.
Finally, they were sent to their departments with a plan to meet by the fountain when they were released.
"Good luck," said Alice, as they entered the lift and gripped the golden ropes, ready for what they heard from Frank was a wild ride.
When the lift jolted to a stop, Sirius and Jacoby exited first, Sirius giving Annabelle's hand a squeeze before stepping into the corridor. Jacoby sent Esmeralda a wink, and she winked back. It appeared there might be some truth to the rumours swirling about Hogwarts that the two housemates were dating.
The first thing Sirius noticed were the Quidditch posters plastering the walls, and he could almost hear his mother's screeching, when once, he dared to put a Pride of Portree poster up in his bedroom. "I won't have you making a mess of this house!" she had told him, and from then on, he and Regulus were not allowed to affix anything to their walls unless it was actual artwork she had approved.
The summer before sixth year, he purposely sent her into a rage when he plastered his walls with pictures, including a poster he'd got from a muggle magazine of girls in bikinis, and a Gryffindor pennant to replace the Slytherin one his father had hung for him as a child. It had been an impulsive act, committed in retaliation for his mother calling The Potters "filth-loving poseurs" the day before he left to visit them. He had regretted his decision as soon as he heard his father barrelling up the stairs to punish him, but he had used a permanent sticking charm on the items, and there was no removing them. After that, the divide between him and his parents grew exponentially larger. He had thought for sure his parents would have used their connections to prevent him from working at the Ministry in any capacity, but maybe their influence didn't stretch to this particular department.
"Welcome to the fun-zone lads," said a young man in expensive, yet dishevelled robes. "Here for the internship, are we?" He walked as he spoke, and Sirius and Jacoby trailed along behind him. "I'm Casper Calenick, and I'll be your supervisor, but the man in charge is called Hamish MacFarlan, famed Quidditch Beater in case you didn't know. Come, let me introduce you."
Of course Sirius and Jacoby knew who MacFarlan was. From 1957-1968 he was the Captain and Beater for the Montrose Magpies, and set the record for most hits in a game in 1961 where he knocked the Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes off his broom 38 times. It was the main reason Sirius had applied to the department. If he had to have someone ordering him about, it might as well be a legend like MacFarlan.
The small office was divided into cubicles, interoffice memos whizzing about, the windows charmed to offer a view of central London. More Quidditch posters lined the walls, and near a corridor, there was life-sized cut-out of MacFarlan, swinging a beater's bat. Casper warned them not to let it smack them in the head when passing. Looking round the office, Sirius wondered if they had arrived during a break, since most of the employees were kicked back in their chairs, feet up on their desks, chatting about sport. Some were gathered round a wireless, listening to the Puddlemere v Lancashire match, and breaking out in intermittent cheers. Others were drinking coffee and playing games of table Quidditch.
"Looks like we chose the right internship," whispered Jacoby as they followed Casper through the office.
Sirius took in his surroundings, and couldn't have been more pleased. "It would appear so."
Although he hadn't left himself with much choice. It was the only internship to which he'd applied.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was the oldest maker of magical ice cream in the wizarding world. Known throughout Britain and Continental Europe for its silky smooth texture and wide selection of flavours, it was made abundantly clear during Lily's orientation that they were the best. After a straight half hour of bragging about their product from the Assistant Production Manager, a woman called Viviette Spencer, Lily was relieved when she was escorted to the laboratory in the back of the shop. She had anticipated a vibrant room, full of sunlight and fun, but what she got was a cross between the potions lab and the undercroft – a dingy, sprawling cellar, scattered with charmed equipment, and shelf upon shelf of ingredients lining the stone walls. People in white robes hovered over the tables, working very hard at what, Lily didn't know, but she was sort of disappointed already. She was led to a small table in the corner where a manual the size of a Muggle phone directory was placed in front of her. Fortescue's Original Recipes was printed on the front.
"Take some time to peruse the 'big book' as we call it. It will familiarise you with how we do things round here."
"Yes, ma'am."
Madam Spencer left her and Lily opened the book. No one even looked at her, and she hadn't been introduced, so she felt silly sitting there, like an intruder. She wondered if this was the way most interns felt on their first day, or if it was unique to the Florean Fortescue's experience. Internships were a rare occurrence for this particular establishment, so maybe it would take some time before they figured how to utilise her skills while also teaching her a few things. As she cracked open the book, she told herself to be patient, as it was only the first day.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
A floor below Sirius and Jacoby, Annabelle and Esmeralda stepped out of the lift, acknowledging each other with a moment of awkward eye contact, but nothing more. Annabelle wasn't going to pretend she had any interest in being her friend, and apparently, neither was Esmeralda.
They followed the signs to the department, and after passing through a set of glass double doors, they stopped and scanned the open room filled with cubicles, the expansive windows charmed to look like a bright summer day in the countryside. Papers zoomed through the air, folders shot up from filing cabinets, and workers hustled madly about. It was bedlam. No one even noticed them standing there, until a young wizard whose security tag read Sturgis Podmore stopped in front of them.
"Interns?"
"Ye-"
"Thought so. Marleeene! Your minions are here!"
At the far right side of the room, a frazzled-looking woman poked her head out from inside an enclosed office.
"O'Neill and Roux?" she asked. The girls nodded, and she waved them over.
The office was a mess; stacks of paper everywhere, wall shelves sagging under the weight of government policy manuals, the inbox on her desk receiving memo after memo. No wonder McGonagall had warned Annabelle she would be "easing the burden." The burden was massive.
"Marlene McKinnon, MSW. Pleased to meet you."
The girls introduced themselves, and Marlene asked Annabelle, "Did you see your grandfather in the other room?" Annabelle hesitated, unsure what she was insinuating. "His portrait," Marlene clarified. "You might have missed it since it's over the door where you entered. He is a daily reminder of our mission here, and of the standard we must try to achieve."
"Oh," said Annabelle, letting out a breath. "Right." She smiled, feeling both exhilarated and intimidated by the knowledge that she had entered her grandfather's world – the world she hadn't known existed until after he died.
"I'm actually the head of the Division of Family Affairs, but he was the Chief Officer when I started here. A true reformer and the best boss in the world. Honestly."
She appeared to be around thirty-something, her round face brightening with a smile at the end of every frantic sentence. Her blonde hair was twisted on top her head, held in place with a quill, and her patchwork robes with floral embroidery around the collar screamed hippie. Outdated fashion sense aside, she seemed kind and welcoming, as well as genuinely pleased to have some assistance.
"You knew him?" Annabelle asked.
"Of course I did. We'll have to chat about him when we get a minute. But for now, I'm going to skip all the formalities and orientations. I need you to have seat, and go through my inbox. Form three separate stacks, one for needs assessments, which look like this," she said, digging through a mess of papers on her desk and holding up a form, "child welfare inquiries, which look like this," she held up another form, "and interdepartmental memos. They look like this." She held up a third piece of parchment, then smacked it back down on her desk. "Anything else, put in a miscellaneous stack for now."
"Yes, ma'am," said Esmeralda.
"Oh, please, call me Marlene." She let out a sharp laugh. "Am I really old enough to be a ma'am? I'll be back in a mo, all right?"
Before they could answer, she nipped out of the office, leaving the door open behind her. Annabelle and Esmeralda split the pile in two and began sorting. When they finished, they waited patiently, not familiar enough with their surroundings to direct themselves to other tasks, or with each other to carry on a conversation. Annabelle turned her attention to a photograph on Marlene's desk of two blond-haired children, a boy and girl of about nine or ten years old. They were dancing about with ice lollies in their hands, flashing their blue and orange tongues.
Occasionally another flurry of forms would appear from a slot in the wall, and they would separate them into the stacks. Workers would pop their heads into the office as news spread that Darien O'Neill's granddaughter was there, sending Annabelle and Esmeralda warm greetings, their eyes always lingering on Annabelle a bit too long.
Annabelle didn't mind the attention, but she wasn't comfortable sitting in silence with a school mate she didn't trust. She was startled when Esmeralda spoke.
"I had feeling you would be here," she said. "You'd think Circe had arrived the way they all want to have a look at you."
Annabelle had no response. What was she supposed to say to that? She shrugged and looked down at the bright teal flooring.
"Listen," Esmeralda continued, "I know you think I shouldn't be here. 'What's a self-serving Slytherin doing in the epicentre of humanitarianism in the wizarding world?' Am I right?"
"I didn't say that."
"You were thinking it, though. But just so you know, I'm sort of on the outs with some of my mates lately. Just because I'm a Slytherin doesn't mean I like how Voldemort has my house divided. Even my roommates are against each other now. He ruined all the fun we used to have together."
"You don't support Voldemort because he ruined your fun?"
"Right, I guess I should also say that he's an arsehole and he's a maniac, but I'm not keen on reading newspapers, so I only know what I hear from my mates. Some of them say he's misunderstood, and that he has the secret to immortality, which you have to admit sounds rather amazing."
In light of losing Rosie, as well her grandparents and Sirius' uncle, she couldn't deny that doing away with death sounded enticing, but immortality could never work, because who in their right mind would want Voldemort and his Death Eaters around forever? It really would be the end of civilization.
"Maybe you should pick up a newspaper more often," suggested Annabelle. "Then you'd see that he's a mass murderer, and that he only wants his deranged supporters to live forever, while everyone else is to be tortured and killed. Or do you think I misunderstood?"
"Oh, Right. You're going to preach to me constantly, aren't you. Darien O'Neill's granddaughter, carrying the torch. My friends warned me this internship was a mistake."
"You're sitting here, in the Department of Social Welfare and Justice, saying you think Voldemort might be misunderstood. What do you want me to say?"
"Look, that's why I'm here. I want another perspective, all right? Sorry philanthropy doesn't run in my cold, snake blood like it does in your supremely perfect lion-hearted blood, but at least I'm trying. Can't you give me a break?"
"Fine. I don't actually care why you're here."
Papers fluttered on Marlene's desk, and the voices of an office full of hard-working witches and wizards drifted through the open door. Annabelle wished Marlene would return and direct them to separate tasks before Esmeralda starting talking again. But she was to have no such luck.
"I know you hate me because of Elsinore."
"I don't know you well enough to hate you."
"Well, I know you don't care, but I wasn't involved in that stunt she pulled. She was under orders from her parents to keep it quiet. When I found out, I was shocked, as were most of my friends. I haven't heard from her since last spring."
"Maybe we could change the subject?" asked Annabelle. "This is really uncomfortable."
"Sure. Fine."
Esmeralda began twirling one of her dark brown curls round her finger, the nail of which was painted blood-red. Maybe Jacoby was the one who got her interested in the politics surrounding the Voldemort situation, and led her to question what her barmy housemates were feeding her, because despite his pureblood status, his family weren't known to be bigots. And he always seemed a cut above his teammates.
Whatever the case, their relief when Marlene returned was palpable.
"Come along, girls. Time to introduce you to everyone."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
James watched closely as the Healer to whom he was assigned examined the elbow of an injured amateur-league Quidditch player. Shadowing Gentian Van Arsdall for the last hour had proved enlightening, and had allowed him to focus his attention on something other than the persistent ache in his heart. Also, he was pleased to discover that despite his unfortunate name, Van Arsdall was actually a decent chap. He reminded James of Professor MacMillan, maybe because the two men were close in age and had the same easy-going attitude.
"Looks like a textbook case of Flexor Tendinitis," Van Arsdall said. "Common among Chasers. Falls into the category of 'Overuse Injuries.' Chasers use their arms to throw at high speeds, and considerable force is concentrated over the inner elbow during throwing. But to be sure there's nothing else going on, no bone chips or torn tendons, we'll use the Body Transparency Charm."
Van Arsdall hovered his wand over the man's inner elbow, and chanted, "Ego intus est vestrum, cubiti umerus."
James' eyes widened as the man's skin became see-through, exposing all the inner workings of his elbow joint.
"By ending the incantation with the exact location you need to examine, the charm allows us to hone in on any part of the body, from the largest joints to the tiniest blood vessels. This is used in all healing fields, of course, not just Quidditch Medicine. But you can see how useful it is."
"Wow. That's incredible."
"From my observation, there is nothing wrong that an anti-inflammatory potion won't cure." He waved his wand over the spot again and said, "Obscuro," causing the man's skin to reappear.
They tended to a few more patients, and VanArsdall even allowed James to cast the Body Transparency Charm on a patient with a bruised spleen. James found himself growing excited about Quidditch Medicine. All the mystery surrounding what healers actually did was slowly being unraveled, and after showing James back to the administrative offices where the Employee Floo Connection was located, Van Arsdall released him for the day.
James' first thought was, Wait 'til I tell Mum about this.
He stopped in his tracks, the Floo Powder he had grabbed falling through his fingers. His excitement had been snatched from him in an instant, as the reality of never being able to tell his mother anything ever again hit him like a punch in the throat. Hurt swelled inside of him, and he wished he could use the Body Transparency Charm to locate the source, so he wouldn't have to endure the all-consuming pain any longer. But it didn't work that way, and he knew it.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"SCORE!" Hamish MacFarlan shouted, having sent a parchment ball through a mini-goal post. What had started off as a quick match of table Quidditch had turned into an office-wide tournament. Of course it didn't have the same thrill as flying on brooms hundreds of feet in the air, but it was a decent way to spend a Friday afternoon, Sirius thought. With MacFarlan's goal, his team, which included Sirius and Jacoby, was victorious.
"Haven't lost my touch, lads," he announced, then wagged his brows at his secretary, Miss Jorkins, who had been the scorekeeper for the match. "Best get yourselves back to Hogwarts before I convince you to quit school and work for me full time."
Jacoby laughed, and so did Sirius, even though MacFarlan's remark didn't sound entirely crazy to him. The boys had MacFarlan sign their intern log, and then made their way back to the lifts, commenting on the Quidditch posters along the way.
"We definitely scored the best internship in existence," said Jacoby.
Sirius nodded in agreement. "No doubt about it."
The boys were not well-acquainted, mainly because they were in rival houses, but Jacoby had always been a good sport, maybe the only good sport on the Slytherin house team. The apprehension Sirius had felt when he first learnt Jacoby would be interning with him had faded, and he was rather glad he wasn't the only student in the office. It took some of the pressure off, not that it appeared to be a high-pressure sort of job. The only work they were asked to do that afternoon was edit a few flyers, proofread an update to Quidditch regulations, and post some memos. The rest of the afternoon was spent mucking about with the staff.
Upon arriving in the atrium of the Ministry, they both leaned against the base of the fountain to wait for their housemates. Jacoby looked at up the fountain, which depicted a wizard and a witch being gazed at adoringly by a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf.
"Merlin, look at that monstrosity," he said. "Like centaurs, goblins, and house-elves have nothing better to do than admire us all day."
Sirius hadn't paid much attention to the statue earlier, but now he studied it up close. "Yeah, it's a bit of an embarrassment, isn't it."
"No wonder other creatures think were conceited."
Alice and Peter arrived then, accompanied by the sound of Peter's misery.
"Godric fucking Gryffindor that was boring. If I have to hear another lecture about the consequences of major magical mishaps again, I'm going to cause a major magical mishap."
Sirius barely suppressed a snort. "What did you expect? You just started."
"I know, but I was hoping for a bit more action."
"Give it time," said Alice. "They're not going to drag you out on assignments the first day."
"How was the Auror department?" Sirius asked Alice.
"It was mostly talk about the Auror programme," she replied, "like what kind of training is involved, what N.E.W.T.s are required - stuff I already knew. Then we talked to some of the Aurors that were available. Most were out on missions. But I helped write a report on a vault break-in at Gringotts."
"A break-in?" Peter said. "Now I wish I'd applied for your internship. Sounds like loads more fun than mine."
After another few minutes of waiting, Alice asked, "What is keeping Annabelle?"
"Here she comes," said Sirius, a smile forming on his face.
She was walking with Esmeralda, well, not with her exactly, but a step or two ahead of her. Neither girl was smiling.
"So? Was it like you imagined?" Sirius asked as she joined them by the fountain.
"Hmm, I don't know really. I never knew quite what to imagine. It was extremely busy, and I have several paper cuts that need healing, but everyone, or almost everyone," she corrected herself, glancing at Esmeralda, who was having her own private conversation with Jacoby, "was so inspiring and devoted to their work."
Sirius eyes narrowed. "She was rude to you, yeah?"
Annabelle gave a half-hearted shrug and bowed her head. "She wasn't exactly rude, per se. But…" She didn't want to tell him how Esmeralda's mates had tried to convince her that Voldemort was misunderstood, because Sirius might try to school her right then and there. Leaning in, she whispered to him, "She's a bit ignorant about you-know-who."
Sirius glared at the Slytherin out of the corner of his eye. "Shocking, considering her mates' families probably all work for him. She should be an expert on what's been happening."
"Well, she's not. I got the impression she wasn't pretending, either."
"Can we go?" whined Peter. "Lily said she would see about getting me some free ice cream."
They started toward the main fireplace, not wanting to keep their friends waiting for them in Diagon Alley. They had agreed to meet at Florean Fortescue's before going back to Hogwarts together, and no one wanted to keep Peter from his free ice cream.
"Catch you later, Ollivander," said Sirius.
"Later, Black."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Dinner conversation consisted mostly of internships, and Peter complaining how dull his was by comparison. As usual, James barely spoke, giving short replies when spoken to, and eating very little. Lily couldn't speak of her own boring internship because she didn't want to sound like Peter, complaining about something so minor in the grand scheme of things, when James was trying to figure out how to manage his life without his mother. How desperately she wanted him to unload all his sorrows and fears onto her, but she didn't want him to feel pressured to talk when he wasn't feeling up to it, so she stayed close by, waiting for a sign that he needed her.
By the following Thursday, her concern for him had grown. She didn't expect him to be his usual self, but his avoidance of talking about his loss had surprised her. He was usually so open with her, often to the point of bluntness, and now he was isolating himself. Even Sirius was having a hard time getting through to him, attempting to talk about the good times with Rosie, but James wasn't having it. "I need to revise," or "I need to catch up on reading," were always his excuses, despite having stayed caught up on school work throughout the ordeal at his mother's insistence. He was just so sad, and Lily hurt for him.
On the way back to the common room after dinner, she asked Annabelle, "Is it normal for him to be so withdrawn?"
"What's normal?" replied Annabelle. "Everyone handles grief differently I reckon."
"I just feel like I should be doing more for him, but at the same time, what more can I do without upsetting him?"
"Hmm, I don't know Lil. I mean, it can't be good for him being cooped up in his room all the time, when before he was always eager to be doing something and having fun. Maybe he needs a reminder that life goes on."
"What kind of reminder? You mean sneaking out?"
"You could always suggest it. Even it's just to the kitchens for a midnight snack."
"He was always trying to get me to go to London with him," Lily said sadly. "Just on a whim. I always said no."
"It's worth a try. But no pubs. Alcohol will only make things worse."
"Definitely no pubs. And remember, we have internships tomorrow, so we can't stay out too late."
Annabelle brightened. "We could go see that film! The one we saw advertised in the newspaper over Christmas?"
Lily tried to recall. "Which one?"
"You know the one with that American actor. He was wearing a white suit in the picture."
"Oh, right! What was it called? Saturday Night?"
"Yes, Saturday Night… No, Saturday Night something. I can't remember, but he might get a kick out of it. We could say it's for your birthday!"
Lily's birthday was in four days, and she was most definitely not in the mood to celebrate it this year. But if it would give James even a moment's distraction from his despair, she would go along with it.
"All right, let's see what he thinks."
Since James refused to leave his room save for classes, meals, and head boy duties, and his roommates refused to leave him alone for long, the girls had grown accustomed to entering the boys' dormitory. It was crazy to think how timid they had been about committing such an infraction before, and how a year and a half later they were coming and going as they pleased. Of course, they still used the invisibility cloak so they wouldn't get caught, but they were quite proud of their nerve.
Sirius was thrilled with the development, as was Remus who had recently begun smuggling Claire in under James' cloak. Peter had stopped complaining about it ages ago, since Alice, Johnny B. and Caradoc were often there as well, rendering it a co-ed experience and not solely a couples' thing. If James had the strength to be thrilled, he would have been, but at the moment, excitement over anything was an impossibility for him.
That evening, Lily and Annabelle were on their own with James and Sirius. Alice and Remus were finishing a Potions assignment in the library, and Peter was in the common room, facing off against Septima Scroggie in chess, which had become a regular occurrence in the last week. Jokes about the two of them abounded among Peter's mates, but Peter said he had no interest in Septima other than kicking her arse in chess.
James was sprawled out on his bed, a book propped open on his chest. Lily sat down beside him, her back against his headboard and her own book in hand. Annabelle was at the foot of Sirius' bed, facing him, her Potions book open while he worked on the Daily Prophet crossword puzzle. The two girls traded looks and Lily cleared her throat, sitting up straighter.
"Is anyone else feeling a bit restless?" she asked.
"Every day of my life," droned Sirius, absorbed in the crossword.
"Maybe we should get out of here for a few hours."
Sirius looked up. "Where do you want to go?"
"Anywhere you like," she replied. "There's a popular film out now. Have you ever been to the cinema?"
"Of course we have," he said, then added, "Once."
"Have you?" asked Annabelle, surprised by his answer. "What did you see?"
"Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It was a few years ago."
"Did you know who Monty Python was?"
"No. Thought it was about a python called Monty, actually. We asked the bloke behind the counter what was good and he recommended it. He looked at me like I was mad when I asked what we were supposed to do with the ticket."
Lily and Annabelle laughed, and Sirius grinned self-consciously. But James remained still, his eyes trained on his book.
"I didn't expect the screen to be so big," Sirius went on. "And Prongs was envious of the people with popcorn. Didn't have enough muggle money to buy any – it's quite expensive. But the film was bloody hilarious."
Lily looked down at James. "Did you like the film?"
He forced a smile. "Yeah, it was brilliant. Best film I ever saw."
"Only film you ever saw," said Sirius.
"No, we saw that film at Remus' house once, on the telly. What was it called?"
"Oh right, The Railway Children or something."
"No that's it," confirmed James. "The Railway Children. I fell asleep about halfway through."
"We all did."
"Well, this film is nothing like The Railway Children," said Annabelle. "It's 18-rated!"
"What's it about?" asked James, not sounding at all interested.
"I dunno. A lad in a white suit going to a disco?"
"I think I'll pass," he said, turning back to his book.
Lily sent Annabelle a disappointed look, and Annabelle decided against using Lily's birthday to guilt-trip him. He was suffering enough. Sorry, she mouthed to Lily, her face falling in resignation.
"Might be a laugh," said Sirius, trying to encourage James. "Merlin knows we need one."
Lily smiled hopefully, but James was quick to reply. "What I need is to finish this chapter. My internship isn't just arsing about with table-Quidditch, in case you forgot."
Sirius rolled his eyes, but said nothing in his own defence, possibly because there was nothing to say. Sirius' internship was a lark, and James' internship was intellectually demanding. There was no comparison.
"Right, then," Sirius said, getting up and rummaging through James' trunk for the Map. "Suit yourself. We'll bring you back some popcorn."
Knowing what the answer would be, Annabelle still asked, "You coming, Lil?"
"Em… no, I don't think so. Now that I think about it, it's probably unwise for the head girl to take unnecessary chances. It would only be more to deal with…"
James looked up at her. "Are you not going because of me?"
"Well I don't want to leave you here alone, but no. I'm not going because it's not worth the risk of getting caught. Imagine if a faculty member needed us for something and no one could find us?"
"We lowly commoners have nothing to worry about," said Sirius, throwing on his coat. "If we get caught, they'll probably just give us detention until June. No big deal."
"Don't stay out too late," said Lily.
"And don't do anything stupid," added James.
"Something stupid? Annabelle and myself? You must be joking."
"Ha. I wish I was."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Sirius couldn't have been more impressed that Annabelle had encouraged him to sneak out. Not that he didn't adore the nervous, straight-laced girl she had been when he first fell for her, but he was glad to see her taking more chances and shedding some of her old fears. He wished James and Lily had come along, but he knew how much his friend was struggling with the loss of his mum. Sirius could barely wrap his brain around it either, how she wouldn't be there the next time he and James went home, and how Jack no longer had his lifelong companion. Getting out of the sadness, if only for a few hours, seemed like an invigorating prospect, but even now as they stood in the ticket queue in Leicester Square, gloom began to nudge at him.
Once they had their tickets, they made the queue for the snack bar, and then, carrying their Pepsis and their bucket of popcorn, they gave their tickets to the lad collecting them and entered the packed cinema. With little choice of seats, they picked two by the wall in the back row.
"Sure you don't want to sit closer?" she asked.
"We're better off here. This way we don't disturb anyone if we want to leave halfway through."
"Oh, is that why?"
"Course, Annie," he laughed. "Why else would I want to sit in the back of a dark cinema with my girlfriend?"
She giggled as she removed her coat, draping it over her seat back. Sirius took a fistful of popcorn, but paused as soon as the first piece touched his tongue.
"What?" asked Annabelle. "Is something wrong with it?"
He forced himself to consume the few pieces already in his mouth.
"No, it's… delicious."
She took a piece and popped it into her mouth. "Tastes fine to me. It's not going to taste like you're used to, but it's not bad, is it?"
"I'm just teasing. It's actually rather nice." He shoved some more into his mouth, chewing slowly, and Annabelle couldn't tell if he was taking the piss or not.
"Really… you like it?"
"Sure. It's not like Dotty's, but it's all right."
The Potter's house elf could make anything taste gourmet, but Annabelle had always loved muggle cinema popcorn.
"Don't compare it Dotty's. Nothing could live up to that standard. Even the Hogwarts' house elves haven't achieved that level of culinary success."
"Rosie would deny it," said Sirius, "but she could cook as well. I found that out the first time I went home with James. Easter of first year."
"Your parents let you stay the entire break?"
"No, it was only for an overnight, although I'm quite sure they didn't miss me."
"I'll bet Rosie adored you straightaway, didn't she?"
"Maybe. All I know is that I kept waiting for her to scream at James and order me home. I thought she was putting on some sinister nice-act, and that she would lash out when we least expected it, and didn't know how James could be so calm. But she never did."
"Merlin, Sirius. How awful for you."
"When Jack came home from work, I remember holding my breath as he approached James and put a hand on his head. But all he did was ruffle his hair. Then Rosie asked what my favourite pudding was."
"Treacle pudding with custard," said Annabelle.
"Yes, and she made it for pudding that night. Not Dotty, but Rosie herself. No one at home ever asked what I liked, and my mother would sooner snog Dumbledore than do something a house-elf could do. I was bit jealous of James for a while after that. Not only because of the pudding, but because his parents actually liked him. They wanted him there, and they enjoyed talking to him. Rosie even kissed him goodbye at King's Cross, and he got embarrassed, but then she did the same to me, and I had no idea why. But from then on, I wished she was my mum."
"She wished you were her son, as well. And I think, in her heart, you were."
A frown pulled at his lips, and Annabelle leaned in, softly kissing his cheek. "It gets easier," she said. "In time. Lots of time."
He sipped his Pepsi and pulled a face, taking the top off the cup to inspect the brown fizzy liquid. Annabelle smiled and shook her head. Soon the lights dimmed and the theatre quieted.
"Here we go," said Sirius. "I hope this is worth the muggle money."
"If it's awful we can always sneak into the other cinema and see that Star Wars film."
"Sneak in?" he repeated. "Pardon me miss, did you happen to see an Annabelle O'Neill round here? Sweet little do-gooder, never breaks a rule, looks down her adorable nose at those who do? She seems to have gone missing-"
"Oh please," she said, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. "You misinterpreted me." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Nothing wrong with good behaviour," she said with a shrug.
"But questionable behaviour is loads more fun, yeah?"
"I have fun with you no matter what we're doing. You make the most mundane tasks extraordinary. We could be watching a cauldron boil right now, and I would be on cloud nine."
A smile passed over his lips, fading as he continued to stare at her.
"What?" she said. "It's true."
He took her chin in his hand and kissed her on the lips. "You taste like muggle popcorn," he said, his lips still touching hers.
"So do you."
"Good thing we like it so much."
She laughed softly, and after one more kiss, they turned their attention to the film. Sirius rested his head on Annabelle's shoulder as the Bee Gees' voices filled the space around them, and the screen lit up with New York City and a young lad strutting down the pavement.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
After Sirius and Annabelle left for the cinema, James grew quiet again as he attempted to finish his reading, but the discussion over the film had drained him, as most talking did these days, and he lay there like a lump. Lily, unsure what to say to him, leaned back against the headboard and opened her own book. Just be there for him, Rosie had told her. And so she would.
They sat in silence for a bit, James lost in his sadness, and Lily lost in her concern for James. She was jarred from her thoughts by James slamming his book shut. He shoved his fingers under the lenses of his glasses, rubbing his eyes.
"You should have gone with them," he said. "I would have covered for you."
"I couldn't leave you here by yourself," she said, running a hand through his hair. "Not when you're so down."
"I think I need to be alone for a bit," he said, his fingers still covering his eyes as tears escaped from under them.
"You – you want me to leave?"
He sat up, pulling his glasses off and covering his face. "It hits me sometimes, like a massive wave. And it fucking buries me. I don't want you to see me like this."
"All right. I'll go if you really want me to, but James, it's not like you're doing something shameful. You're supposed to be upset. I'd be concerned if you weren't."
"But you must be so tired of me right now," he said quietly, his voice trembling. "All this moping about. Crying like a baby."
"No, actually. I'm not in the least bit tired of you."
"I wouldn't blame you if you were. I'm tired of feeling this way."
"Well I would blame me if I was. 'Oh, I love him, but his grief is really a nuisance.' How awful is that?"
She felt the familiar lump rising in her throat. This was the side of love she hadn't known about before, that she would feel his pain as though it was her own. She placed a tentative hand on his back, trying to control the urge to sob her eyes out.
"James, we're all going to lose our parents at some point. Are we to abandon each other when it happens? Will you abandon me?" She choked up, unable to hold back her tears. "Because I'm going to need you more than ever when that happens."
He turned to her. "I will never abandon you."
"Good. Because it's easy to be there for the good stuff, but love means we don't run away when life hurts. Right?"
"Of course, Lil, but be honest," he said, more tears falling down his cheeks. "You aren't put off by a lad who's bawling for his mummy all the time?"
"Are you not supposed to cry when your mum dies? Where do you get this idea?"
"No girl wants to be with some cry-baby mummy's boy."
Lily wiped her eyes. "Don't pull that macho act with me. You know that's not what interests me. I love you – not only when things are good and easy, but all the time. And I want you to feel like you can share anything with me, even your most unbearable feelings."
He stood up and paced to the window. After a moment of attempting to compose himself, he said, "I just feel so lost."
"I'd feel lost without my mum, as well."
"I keep thinking I'm going to get a letter from her," he said, staring out at the starless night sky. "Like always. Every Sunday, she sends me a letter. My dad isn't as good about writing, but she never missed a Sunday in the entire time I've been here. It's the little things like that that creep up and knock the wind right out of me. I think I'm fine, and pow, suddenly I can't breathe, and I wonder how I'll ever fend for myself, and even though I rationally know I'm not alone and that I'll carry on, sometimes I wonder what it's all for if the end result is always the same."
Lily shifted on the bed to face him. "There is so much more to life than death, James. Your mother would attest to that, I'm sure of it. Do you think she regretted living just because it had to end at some point? Look at all the people she helped, at all the beauty and wonder she left behind. Look at you."
He swiped a hand under his eyes, and took a deep breath to slow the swell of despair. Lily stood up and took his hand, leading him back to the bed, and they sat down, side by side.
"How do I get through this?"
"I'll help you," she said, holding his hand in both of hers. "Your mates will help you. None of us are going to let you fend for yourself. Let us carry you for now. There is no shame in that."
He gazed at the floor, and she kissed his cheek, her mouth remaining there as more tears fell from his eyes.
"Besides," she added, "everyone knows mummy's boys make the best husbands."
He looked at her sceptically. "Do they?"
"Of course they do. My mum always said she adored my granny Harriet because she taught my dad how to be the honourable man he is today-"
"Did you say Harriet?"
"Yes, why?"
"My grandfather's name was Harry. Well, Henry, but everyone called him Harry."
"Another sign we're meant to be?" she said, and he fought the urge to grin. "That's what you would say, isn't it?"
"Bound by the name Harry," he replied. "Or Harriet. I think we have our first born's name already picked out."
Lily cringed. "Harriet? I loved my grandmother and all, but I think Harriet's a bit old-fashioned."
"We could call her Rosie then."
Smiling through her tears, Lily agreed. "Yes, I think that would be a perfect name for a little girl."
It occurred to her that she was talking about having babies with James, and it wasn't scaring her. Not in the least. And the fact that she wasn't scared was a wee bit scary in and of itself.
"But back to the subject," she said, even though she wouldn't have minded talking more about baby Rosie, who already felt real to her. "By your definition, I guess my dad could be considered a mummy's boy, because he made sure we visited her every week, and was always available to help her if she needed anything. He took care of the person who took care of him, and I think that's beautiful, and certainly nothing to be ashamed of."
"When did she pass away?"
"The summer between second and third year. We were heartbroken, my dad most of all."
"I'm sorry."
"And I'm so sorry you didn't get to have your mum around a lot longer."
"She would have made a terrific grandmother, wouldn't she?"
"She would have been the best grandmother ever."
He nodded and she kissed him on the lips. When she pulled back, she took his face in her hands. His eyelashes were wet from crying, his eyes bloodshot.
"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered. "I know it's agonising… but I'll help you, all right? Let me help you."
He rested his forehead against hers, then let out a small laugh. "You're actually the one that has kept me afloat through all of this… I couldn't manage without you."
As sad as the situation was, Lily felt touched, not only because he felt that way about her, but because he had said it out loud.
"Well I'm not going anywhere. No matter how big a mummy's boy you are."
He laughed again, this time genuinely.
"What time is it?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "Oh. Right. We were supposed to start rounds ten minutes ago."
"I can ask Alice to come with me, if you'd rather not-" Lily began, but James was already standing, slipping his feet into his shoes and scratching a hand through his hair.
"I'd rather be with you right now, if you don't mind."
Lily smiled at him, and he offered her a hand.
"I don't mind at all," she replied, and placed her hand in his.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Sirius found the film mostly ridiculous, laughing at parts that weren't supposed to be funny, and dozing off when it got a bit dull. Much to Annabelle's dismay, he woke up at the moment a topless woman was dancing in a bar, and Annabelle covered his eyes with her hand.
"Come on, Annie, it's just film," he grunted as he tried to pry her hand off his eyes. "What are you hiding from me?"
She was laughing so hard that she lost the strength to fight him, and let go in time for him to catch a split second of breasts.
He shrugged one shoulder. "I'd rather see yours."
"Sorry, but you won't see mine doing that in a pub."
Copying the woman in the film, Sirius gave his chest a shimmy and Annabelle laughed out loud. A few shushes were heard, which made them both squirm with silent laughter. The pain of keeping it in caused tears to fill their eyes. Annabelle threw a handful of popcorn at him to make him stop, and he returned the gesture.
"Belt up," a man a few rows ahead of them hissed, making it so much worse.
Annabelle pulled her coat round her head so she couldn't see Sirius, and finally, their laughter subsided. Since the film wasn't holding their attention, they decided to take advantage of their back row seats by snogging each other's faces off and groping each other over their clothing, as discreetly as possible.
Once the film finished, they burst out into the frigid London night, cracking up as they re-enacted scenes. Sirius did his best to imitate the lad in the film, strutting and repeating lines in his best Tony Manero accent.
"You make it with summa these chicks, they think you gotta dance with them."
"Oh god, please no," said Annabelle. "If I have to hear you impersonating that numpty all night I'm going to use the silencing charm on you."
"You know you fancy him."
Annabelle stopped walking, giving him a disbelieving look. "He was a bloody moron. The way he talked about girls was foul."
"You're right about that, but come on, he could dance."
"So?"
"So girls fancy lads that can dance, yeah?"
"Only if they're not dimwits."
"I'll have to practise my moves then," he said, rolling his fists round each other like in the film. When she started laughing, he spun round and pointed a finger to the sky. "Just call me Tony."
"If you're Tony, then we're going to have to break up."
"Come on, baby," he said in a terrible New York accent. "You don't mean it."
Annabelle covered her ears, shaking with laughter. "Please stop."
He tugged on her arm, pulling her back the way they had come. Uncovering her ears, she was about to ask what he was doing, but he stopped in front of a tattoo parlour, and she had her answer.
"I think I want to get a tattoo of a disco ball that says 'Stayin' Alive' over it. I can charm it to spin!"
Annabelle's jaw dropped open. "Have you gone mad?"
"No. I mean it," he said leading her toward the door of the shop. "To commemorate this night."
"Sirius, no. I will throw myself in front of the needle. No!"
"It'll be lovely. You'll see."
"Sirius, you will regret this. Don't get a tattoo of that film. I'm begging you."
He stopped in front of the door, frowning, and she felt herself beginning to cave – Merlin, how his sad face could undo her - but then he grinned and swung an arm round her neck. "Gotcha."
"Wait… so… you're not getting the tattoo you described then?"
"Most definitely not. Really, Annie. You think I want a tattoo of that naff shite?"
"You're an arse," she said, bumping her hip against his as they walked away from the shop.
He laughed, delighted he had tricked her. "And you remain my favourite person to tease."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"Tell me about your internship," said James, as he and Lily wandered the castle, taking their time with rounds. "You haven't said a word about it all week."
Lily sighed. "Sure, but when I'm through boring you with it, you're going to wish you'd gone to the cinema instead."
"Listening to you talk is never boring. You are far more interesting to me than some film."
The sincerity in his voice floored her, and she glanced at him, incredulous at how wonderful he truly was.
"What?" he responded. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing is wrong with that. Nothing at all."
So she told him how disillusioned she was, and how she felt she'd made a mistake, and despite his own pain, he listened, offering words of support and encouragement.
"You're brilliant, Lily," he said as he ran a hand over her back. "If they don't recognise that, someone else will. You will have your choice of careers. You're going to be all right."
She smiled at him, slipping her arm round his waist. Mummy's boy or not, one thing was for certain, Rosie had every reason to be proud of her boy.
"And so are you. I promise."
With a kiss, she sealed her promise, and when she pulled back, he brushed her hair from her face with his fingertips. He was about to kiss her again, but he went still.
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
Lily's brow furrowed and she shook her head. "What was it?" she whispered.
"Sounded like voices coming from a classroom. I'm going to have a look."
"I'll check over here," she said, and approached the classroom closest to where she stood. James backtracked down the corridor and finding the door unlocked, he stepped into the room. Lighting the tip of his wand, he said, "I know you're in here, so you might as well come out," but there was no response, and he figured he had imagined it. Right when he was turning to leave, the sound of Lily's scream ripped through him, and he bolted back into the corridor.
She was on the floor, her body contorted, and her mouth agape in a combination of shock and pain. He ran to her, but just before he reached her, a searing pain seized him as if his muscles were splitting under his skin. White hot daggers attacked his lungs, making it impossible to breathe. It felt like he'd been lit on fire and left to die. Just when he thought the pounding in his head would force his eyeballs to explode, it stopped, and his body went limp. He stared up at the ceiling, gasping for air, the aftershocks rippling through him.
When awareness returned to him, he got to his knees and scrambled to Lily where she was sprawled out on the floor, her eyes pressed shut and her breathing rapid.
"Lily?" he asked in a tremulous voice, like his throat was full of water. He choked out a sob. "Lily? Open your eyes. We have to go."
He slipped his arm under her head, and pulled her to him, too weak to carry her. "Please," he breathed through his pain, "we have to go."
Tears squeezed out of her eyes as her arm tightened round his neck, and she allowed him to pull her to her feet, but she whimpered and collapsed again, pulling him down with her. He didn't have the strength to cast even the simplest levitation spell at the moment, but he feared another attack and began to panic.
"Somebody help!" he cried out, his voice echoing through the castle.
"Oh my god!" Mira Shafiq's voice cried out from the end of the corridor. "What happened?"
James wiped the sweat from his brow and twisted round to see her running towards them. "A curse. I need to get her to the hospital wing."
"I'll get Madam Pomfrey," she said. She sprinted to the stairwell, but stopped to yell, "Don't try to move her on your own!"
James' head dropped, his breath still coming in ragged gasps, and he doubled over on the floor, a protective arm slung over a quietly weeping Lily.