Part Three. In a Web of Feelings Chapter 1. James Potter.
The days dragged, indistinguishable from one another, filled with pain and worry. The pain because of his mum. The worry for his father. If someone asked him what he'd been doing during these endless five days, he would have easily rattled off the list: he ate when it was time to eat; he slept a little when it was time to sleep; he went to class when wandering the Hogwarts hallways became unbearable; he spent time with Lily and Albus when they needed him; he tried to cheer up Rose and Hugo when the Weasleys got together in the common room in the evenings.
Strange as it seemed, he quickly got used to the thought that his mother was gone. Well… In the last few years, he only ever saw her during school breaks. Now she wouldn't be there for the breaks either. James kept thinking that he had yet to fully feel the pain of the loss.
Today James skipped the class again, although Faust – quite gently, of course – said to him that life was not over and that he had to study. What for? And, especially – how? How could he study? How could he think about anything but possibly losing both of his parents in one week? If all his thoughts were with his father..?
Every day they insisted on going to the hospital, but every time they were told that it was not allowed yet. They would be contacted when visitations would become possible. Anger and frustration, as well as indignation at everyone's lack of understanding – James felt all that, of course, but the feelings were somehow abstract, as though pertaining to made-up events. He simply did not have the energy to respond to everything and so he spent what he had to keep hope alive, help Lily, and take care of Albus.
James wandered the grounds of Hogwarts, far from other students and teachers. He abandoned the idea of sneaking out one of the secret passages and visiting his father at the hospital. It would have been stupid and wrong – as Hermione had said, they were all in danger. Despite his usual devil-may-care attitude, James didn't want anything else happen to his family. Especially considering how it would affect the already haggard Lily who barely slept these days, much as she tried to conceal it from everyone; or Albus, who had just begun to liven up again. He was only a boy and, finding himself at the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, fell under the spell of its magic, miracles, and mysteries.
James worried less about his younger brother than about Lily. Al found consolation in the company of Amanda Dursley. If he wasn't with Lily or Rose, he could usually be found next to the Hufflepuff. He even smiled sometimes – absently and sadly, but he smiled. He ate well and slept soundly, although sometimes he cried in his sleep and called for Mummy. But James knew – he could get over it and move on. Only on the outside did Albus appear fragile and delicate.
James sat down under an ancient tree on the lake shore and looked at the water. His father used to tell him about him and James' mother spending their free time under this tree during their school years. Of course, Harry never told James that he sat there in tears once – after Sirius had died. But even so, James came to this spot, as if the place itself could make it easier for him. Besides, nobody could see him cry here.
He heard the bell ring. It would be dinner soon and the students would pour into the Great Hall. James didn't feel like eating. He didn't want to see their merry faces, hear their laughter and chatter. Only at the Gryffindor table people spoke quietly or whispered to each other, and the faces were somber. He didn't want to see that either, it only made him feel worse.
"Now I know where they will erect the new monument," Malfoy's voice said behind James. The Slytherin sat down on his backpack next to James. James grinned – briefly, almost unnoticeably.
The youth was grateful to his friend for being the only one who wasn't walking grim-faced, looking at the Potters as if they were one step away from the grave. Malfoy did not cast compassionate glances at his friend, did not try to help out all the time like the others did, which only served to remind him of his loss. Scorpius remained himself. Perhaps, only in his company James was able to relax and get a break from mourning.
"What monument?"
"Well, when you do something heroic, in the great Potter tradition, they will erect a monument in your honor," Malfoy shrugged, taking a cap out of his pocket and putting it over James' head. It was chilly and the youth did not even have a scarf around his neck. "I have picked out a spot already. Here you will look impressive, even in stone. You will be looking out in the distance, your hair tousled by the wind – not like you even need it…"
"Agreed, you will be the sculptor," James took off Malfoy's cap and stared at it pointedly. The cap was green, trimmed with Malfoy coat-of-arms embroidery. "Listen, I keep forgetting to ask – is your underwear embroidered in the same fashion?"
"Of course, wanna look?" Malfoy was already getting up, sticking his hands beneath his robes.
"Go to hell! It's freezing! I am still clinging to the hope of my kids beating yours at dueling; don't jeopardize that."
"It's so nice of you to care about the Malfoy family line," Scorpius took the cap – and pull it over James' head again. "Let's go; it's time to get some grub. You don't have to hide anymore – classes are over for today."
The two friends got up and plodded down trail covered with fallen leaves toward the castle. James stared down at his feet and Malfoy was whistling, as usual, to fill the silence.
"You know, I think that we have had enough Potter monuments," Scorpius grumbled suddenly, nodding toward the Forbidden Forest. James looked over there as well, although he already knew who he would see there.
Lily came to her father's statue all the time. She probably felt closer to him this way, as if she was morally supporting him. The Seventh Years hesitated, unsure whether to go to the girl or to leave her alone with her thoughts.
"I don't have another cap," Malfoy said, thrusting his hands in his robes pockets. "By the way, your sister didn't go to breakfast…"
"Even so, she won't go with us," muttered James. "And I can empathize."
"Alright, this is what we'll do," Malfoy said resolutely. "You go to your room and pick up something warm for her, and I shall go to the Great Hall and stock up on food. Then we shall meet here again for a small picnic."
The Gryffindor nodded.
"And don't forget to dress as well. Don't think this cap is a gift," Scorpius remarked, hurrying up the steps to the front door.
James returned before his friend did, wearing scarf around his neck and a grey cap on his head and carrying clothes for Lily. He had seen Albus in the Gryffindor tower, playing chess with Hugo. Rose promised to make sure that the boy had dinner. James noted that both Weasleys – brother and sister – looked haggard and scared. Although he could not summon the strength to fret about Uncle Ron as well, Rose and Hugo must have been worried sick about him.
Malfoy showed up with a bag of food; he was not alone, either – Xenia came with him, also carrying a bag. She smiled at James. They hadn't been alone in a long time – since that evening by the lake. And they hardly spoke because the Gryffindor did not attend classes, staying away from people. Xenia did not object, did not pursue him; she probably understood that he was not up to dealing with personal feelings right now.
Lily was still standing by the statue, with her arms wrapped around her; no scarf, no gloves, unfastened robes, red hair spilling over her shoulders in disarray. The three students walked up to her and James put his arm around his sister. She flinched and looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Is this your plan: to catch cold and join Dad in the hospital that way?" James dared to joke. He did not want sympathy or plattitudes, and he thought that Lily would not find it helpful either. Nothing was worse than pity.
The youth pulled the cap over his sister's red hair, wrapped a scarf around her slender neck, and handed her the gloves, making sure that she put them on.
"Hello, Potter-in-a-skirt," Malfoy stepped from behind James' back. "A suggestion was made to have a picnic."
Lily shrugged, glancing sadly at Xenia who stood a little aloof. The four of them went closer to the lake where they sat down on the bench in the shadow of the willow-trees, and attacked the sandwiches and pumpkin juice. James ate with gusto for the first time in days. Lily, however, was only nibbling at her sandwich, staring absently into the distance.
James didn't know ho to help her. He had tried – and failed. She closed herself off. Even Rose, who had volunteered to speak with her, was completely unsuccessful; and Lily did not have friends at school closer than her cousin.
"McGonagall handed out the graded homework on live transfigurations," Malfoy said suddenly, as is he just recalled it. James could have sworn, however, that his friend had never forgotten about it in the first place, and had only been waiting for the right moment. Xenia tried to repress a smile, apparently in on what was about to happen. "You, Potter, won't believe it, but you received an 'Exceeds expectations'".
"I am glad."
"No, you don't get it!" Scorpius frowned. "You got an 'Exceeds expectations' for the homework that was almost entirely written by me! And I got a mere 'Satisfactory'! Is that fair?!"
James chuckled:
"Did you copy the dementor scenario from me?"
"Very funny," Malfoy snorted, tossing fruit candy in his mouth. "You owe me one now."
"And why is that?" James was speaking to Malfoy but looking at his sister who seemed to not even hear them. She was simply staring at her uneaten sandwich.
"Because you received my mark, that is why! So – pay up."
"Mafoy, is your money stocking showing bottom?"
"I don't think that it will become empty before you get old enough for great-grand-children," the Slytherin glanced at the statue-like Lily Potter and sighed in resignation.
"What do you want then?" James looked at his friend with suspicion.
"You shall go to the library directly and look for the book titled 'The consequences of incorrect application of spells and potions'", Malfoy responded lightly. "Xenia will help you out."
It suddenly dawned on James that he was either being dismissed or distracted. Malfoy would not play a matchmaker! Would he? Of course, if it was in his interests, this particular Slytherin would huddle his Mum and Dad into the Forbidden Forest to look for quail tears.
"Right now?" James pretended to have no desire to go anywhere, especially to the library.
"Yep, you broke it – you fix it – scoot! I need that book by dinnertime, so make haste, in case it proves difficult to find," Malfoy winked at Potter and turned to Xenia, "Make sure that nobody gives him too hard a time."
"Malfoy!" James snarled wontedly and then suddenly realized that it had taken Scorpius all of a couple minutes to make him feel normal; to make him feel. How he managed that and where he learned how to do it, the Gryffindor had no idea, but he hoped that Scorpius would be able to pull it off with Lily as well.
James rose to his feet, tossed his lunch leftovers into the lake – the lazy squid immediately grabbed the snack and dragged it with it to the bottom – and, taking Xenia's hand in a smooth gesture, walked toward the castle without a word to Lily. She appeared to not even notice his departure. James silently wished his friend luck and concentrated on being in the company of a girl whom he liked very much.
"What is this book?" James said after a silence. They passed several students – many did not have classes after lunch. The Gryffindor avoided looking at them – it made him feel sick to his stomach.
Xenia smiled softly, pressing her shoulder against him. He put his arm around her waist at once, feeling that this was the right thing to do, especially after the way this girl helped him on the most terrible night of his life by simply sitting next to him, simply having his hand in hers, simply holding him and stroking his hair.
"This book is a figment of Scorpius Malfoy's imagination. He wanted you to stay ay the library for the next few hours, I think," Xenia rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. She smelled of flowers.
"Where shall we go then? To write the book?" they walked into the Entrance Hall. Xenia shook her head and gave him a conspiratorial wink as she led him up the stairs.
"It's a surprise. Malfoy discovered it on Tuesday and has been waiting for the right moment. Let's go. You will enjoy it."
James, intrigued, followed the girl. They went up to the sixth floor, crossed a hallway, turned a corner, and Xenia stopped in front of the picture of a handsome hippogriff who watched the two students crossly and warily, hoofing the ground.
"So?" James turned toward the Slytherin only to see her bow to the beast in the picture. The hippogriff narrowed his eyes and then … bowed back.
"Come on, James, you have to bow as well or it won't work," Xenia whispered. James, feeling like a complete idiot, bowing at a picture, nevertheless did as she asked. The hippogriff returned the greeting and looked up and down the hallway – as if making sure that no one else was there. And then James saw with amazement that a door handle began to materialize next to the picture.
"But this cannot be!" he exclaimed as Xenia closed the door behind them. They found themselves in a small room, lit by only a few candles, furnished with red drapes on the walls, a loveseat by the burning fireplace, and a cocktail table next to it. "Xenia, this is incredible! But… my father used to say that the Room of Requirement had been destroyed!"
"Well, it appears that it has restored itself. Or simply moved a floor down," the girl shrugged, clearly pleased with James' reaction. She walked over to the loveseat and sat down, taking off her scarf and gloves.
"Only a git like Malfoy would conceive of bowing to the picture of a hippogriff – just to see what happens," James chuckled.
He also took off his cap and scarf, then his robes, and sat down next to Xenia, feeling at peace with himself. The pain receded, as if a salve was applied to the aching wound in his heart.
"You are smiling," Xenia whispered, touching James' cheek with her cool hand and looking into his eyes. "I can't believe that you are smiling again."
"I can't either," he put his arms around the girl, holding her close. Then he kissed her – it had been so long since he tasted her cold lips, her tongue; felt her hands, stroking his body through his thin shirt. "I need you so much. You have no idea how much I need you…"
"I am here, I am with you," she whispered into his lips as she kissed him, running her fingers through his hair.
The candlelight cast an even glow over the room, danced in her golden hair. James pulled away from her lips. Xenia pressed his head to her shoulder, stroking lightly, almost soothingly with her cool fingers; and he relaxed, giving in to the feeling of calm. He dozed off, forgetting about everything, even his pain and bitterness, for the first time in days. There was only her breathing, her cool hand and her soft whisper. James could not make out the words, and they were not important anymore…His heart grew calmer and the ache soothed, bringing him peace.