"Lily! What the bloody hell was that?" Bryan demanded, throwing a towel at her in the locker room. She sat down on the bench next to Dante and stared at the green cloth of the quidditch robes. "That was the worst game I have ever seen you play! You completely humiliated not only yourself, but all of Slytherin! I hope you're happy! I expected you to completely shut out the damn Ravenclaws! But no, instead you only saved one fucking shot! How inept can you be? Nick would do a better bloody job than you!"

Lily bowed her head and stared at the towel, fidgeting with it in her hands. There was nothing she could do about it.

"And you don't even care, do you? No! Of course not! Because the great Lily Potter plays when she wants, and doesn't when she doesn't want! You're part of a team, Lily! A part of a team! No matter what time it is, or what day it is, or what kind of weather it is, or how you're feeling, you never let the team down! Is that so difficult to understand?"

Lily didn't reply.

"I asked you a question, Potter!"

"No, it isn't," Lily muttered. She didn't feel like arguing; not now.

"Get out of my fucking locker room!"

Lily looked up at him. His face was red, his neck was red, his whole body seemed to be red.

"Get out of my locker room!"

She stood up, numb, and left.

The quidditch pitch was abuzz with people – students and faculty – congratulating the Ravenclaws on beating the best team Hogwarts had ever known. Lily felt sick. She took a deep breath and tried to make her way through the crowd back to the castle. Before too long, she was being mocked. By everyone. They taunted her, yelled at her, screamed at her, everything. They had no right to do that. They had no right to make fun of her like this. She ignored it and continued on.

"Hey!" a loud voice boomed over the crowd. "Stop it! She didn't do anything wrong!"

"That's our point!" a young Slytherin shouted. A Ravenclaw near him smacked him upside the head.

"Shove it!" the voice shouted again. Lily identified it as Hugo. Al came out of nowhere and grabbed her by the wrist.

"We need to talk," he said, dragging her away from the crowd.

"Ah, Lily and Albus, just the people I wanted to see," the headmistress said, cutting them off. "Please, if you would, follow me."

"Later, then," Albus whispered.

They followed her to her office, where three other people were waiting. Their father paced back and forth anxiously, his hands thrust into his pockets. James watched their father, uncertainty clear on his face. Their mother sat in a chair, fiddling nervously with the cuff of her shirt.

"I wanted to tell you all before the others came," their father said. "I wanted to tell you together."

"James, Al, you might want to sit down," their mother said, standing up. She took James by the hand and sat him down. Al did so without her cajoling.

"What's happened?" James asked, on the edge of his seat.

Lily felt her stomach drop out. A blanket of cold wrapped around her shoulders. He was going to tell them. And she would have to see. She didn't want to see it. She didn't want to be here. She wanted….she wanted to be taunted and mocked by the other students, yelled at by Bryan, glared at by Dante, and ignored by the Slytherins. This was too much. She couldn't handle this.

"I think it's best if you just say it, Harry," their mother said gently.

Their father sighed and said, "Teddy has died."

Lily stared at the ornate carpet of the headmistress's office, the flowers and petals all intertwined. She didn't want to see her brothers…to see their pain.

"Teddy…how?" James asked, his voice rough and low.

"We don't know yet. We…the ministry has only recovered parts of his body."

Lily closed her eyes and bit her tongue. She couldn't cry. Not here. Not now. Damn. Only parts of his body? She rubbed her face and took a deep breath, harboring all her feelings in a small corner of her mind to be revisited and examined later.

"Who?" Al asked, his voice trembling and angry. He was crying. Lily could tell. "Who did this to him?"

"There's a band of rogue wizards living in Sweden. We think it was them."

Her father's voice was so calm, so detached, so impersonal. It made her angry. How could he be like that? How could he be so indifferent to the livelihood of his godson? She leaned against the wall and slid down, wrapping her arms around her legs and burying her face in her knees. She didn't want to be here.

"Why? Why would anyone do this?" Al continued. His voice cracked. No one replied. "What did he ever do to them?"

"I know, Al," their mum said, her own voice trembling.

Lily clenched her teeth. Maybe it was better when their father spoke, his voice solid and sturdy, confident and sure. Nothing he said could be questioned or attached to anything emotional.

"Merlin," Jim muttered. "I can't believe it."

"I know," their father said, his voice again strong.

The door to the office opened. Lily looked up. Nearly every Weasley in England came into the room – Uncle Percy, Bill, and Ron, Aunt Audrey, Fleur, Hermione, and Angelina, Vicky, Dom, Fred, Rose, Molly, Hugo, Lucy, Roxanne, and Lou. All of them looked unsure. All of them looked nervous when they saw Al and Jim crying in their seats.

Her dad repeated the announcement.

"What?" Vicky asked, demanded, her voice trembling. "What? No! No, it can't be true!" She slipped into French and only her mum knew what she said. The two of them went back and forth for a little while, her mum clearly trying to console her. She was inconsolable. Lily didn't watch.

No one else seemed to know how to react. They were all caught up in Vicky's reaction. Her father didn't tell them that only parts of his body were found, or that they had thought it was a murder. There was no need for them to know, at least not with the younger cousins around. The cousins split up into sub-groups with their parents, getting answers and consolation from them. Lou was having about as much difficulty as Vicky, tears streaming shamelessly down his face. His dad was with him.

Dom sat next to Lily, silent. They were the only two silent in the room. The others cried, murmured, asked questions, were confused. They were just silent, watching everything that went on around them. Slowly, those who were confused were just sad, and those that were sad were angry, and those that were angry were sad again. The headmistress conjured chairs for them all to sit on and sandwiches for them to eat. No one touched the sandwiches. Most of them sat down. Dom and Lily stayed on the floor.

"I suppose you knew beforehand?" Dom asked, glancing at his cousin. Dom was a good-looking guy, some would say better than Vicky. His hair wasn't as orange as Lou's and he was a tall, thin guy like his father.

"Yep," Lily said.

Dom nodded his head, not sure of what to say. Lily didn't know what to say, either. They sat there, in silence, each to their own thoughts. Hugo eventually came over and sat on her other side, his eyes dry as well.

"I can't say I was expecting this," Hugo said morosely. "I suppose this is why you played so shitty today?"

"Yep."

"I should have seen it coming. It was so obvious. He hadn't responded to my letters all month."

"He's only been dead for two weeks," Lily said compulsively. "He was held captive for awhile."

Dom and Hugo just stared at her, their mouths open. She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. She had to get out of here.

"I need to go," she said.

"Where are you going?" her father said sternly.

"Back to my common room."

"No. You're staying here."

"Why?"

"You're going to support your family."

"I can't handle this. I need to go."

"You think I want to be here right now? I want to be in Sweden, tracking down the bastards that did this to my godson. But I'm not. I'm here. And if I'm here, you'll be here, is that clear?"

Lily just stared at him, her jaw set. They stared at each other intensely for a moment.

Her father sighed, the look on his face softening, and gave a half-grin, "Do you know how badly I want to be angry with you right now? You look too much like your mother when you're angry. You can go."

Lily slipped down the spiral staircase, not even bothering to say goodbye to her father, a heavy burden strapped to her shoulders she couldn't seem to shake.