Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I merely play with her creation. Huge thanks to my beta Black Rose Blue and all the lovely people who have favourited/alerted/reviewed this story. It means more than I can say. On a lighter note, I'd like to offer the traditional, metaphorical cookies for the 150th reviewer. We're so close, and it would be rather fantastic if we could manage it. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!
The scene which greeted them was decidedly anticlimactic. As they entered, brushing snow from their coats, they looked around. As usual, the bar was murky and dank. Not for the first time, Lily wondered at the location. Entirely disreputable, the Hog's Head hosted a questionable clientele. In one corner, a group of men were arguing over a small stack of money. Every now and then, one would reach for the pile, his hand slapped away by an associate. The barman, holding a cracked glass, was eyeing them sourly. Absently, he scrubbed with a filthy rag. As they entered, his stare flickered towards the Gryffindors. A slight crease appeared in his forehead and he seemed to evaluate them. Avoiding the barman's gaze, Lily turned to James. He was their undisputed leader and Lily was out of her comfort zone.
"What do we do, now?" Lily muttered.
"I'm not entirely sure," admitted James, fixing Sirius with a questioning expression. The aristocratic boy shrugged.
"Don't look at me." Slightly exasperated, Lily felt a sudden flash of inspiration. Squaring her shoulders, and trying to act confident, she strode towards the bar. Meekly, the others followed. The floorboards creaked as they walked, and Peter tripped over a protruding nail with a sudden squeak. The group drew closer together.
"Excuse me," she said, wearing her sweetest smile and fiddling coyly with her plait. "I'm supposed to be meeting a friend to discuss wedding plans, has she arrived?"
"Name?" grunted the barman.
"Hers or mine?"
"Hers, of course. I couldn't care less about your name." James bristled at his terseness, and Mary's eyes flashed. Even Lily, consummate defender of the misunderstood, was mildly affronted. Remembering his reputation, however, she didn't take it personally.
"Alice." The barman seemed to straighten up, eyes narrowing.
"I know the one," he said, his tone brusque.
"She's here?" interjected James, trying to sound calm. However, a faint quiver in his voice told a different story. Clearly, Lily wasn't the only one affected by their environment.
"Aye," he replied, wary. He cast the rowdy men another glare. "She told me someone was coming," he continued, abandoning his cleaning. "Didn't realise you'd be so… young," he said bitterly. Marlene's eyes widened at this, and Lily could tell that she was thinking of David. She gripped her friend's arm, watching as the boys bristled at the man's words.
"We're not young," retorted Sirius, anger marring his features. The barman didn't dignify this with a response, simply leading them through a door. He did, however, shake his head. Passing under a torch, his glasses turned opaque and his expression was hidden. Lily could've been wrong, but she fancied his face was pained.
Before she could examine him, they reached their destination. After climbing a flight of stairs, the barman pushed them towards another door.
"Good luck," he said, turning on his heel. Exchanging glances, Lily noted his parting words had unnerved the others. Peter had turned a funny colour and Remus had begun to distance himself again. Touching both on the arm, and reassured by their weak smiles, Lily proceeded to open the door.
As they bundled into the room, Lily caught a sudden movement. Without thinking, she drew her wand and cast a shield charm. The place was illuminated with light, her spell combining with the others' magic. It was smaller than the bar, wooden walls bowed with age and rot, and filled with a smattering of tables and chairs. The tension was so thick that Lily could've cut it with a knife. The distrust and suspicion was tangible, not least because a spell had just been hurled at them.
"Not bad," called a hoarse voice. "Guess you're not entirely useless."
"I could've told you that," rejoined another, female this time. She sounded smug and comfortingly familiar.
"Alice," Lily breathed, inordinately relieved. Her round faced friend sprang from her seat, dragging her back to a neighbouring chair. On her other side, Frank gave her a friendly grin. "Congratulations," whispered Lily, gazing appreciatively at Alice's ring.
"Thanks." Alice was positively glowing with happiness and Frank's face, usually solemn, radiated contentment.
"If you're quite finished," said the same hoarse voice, "I'd like to get this meeting started. Unless someone knows something I don't - "
"Quite likely!" shouted a redheaded man, prompting a few gales of laughter. In this brief intermission, Lily took the opportunity to search for the older man. It wasn't difficult. A battered-looking wizard, covered in scars, was glowering at his heckler. He looked oddly familiar, but Lily couldn't place him.
"It's Mad-Eye Moody," hissed James, prompting startled gasps from the other Gryffindors.
"The Auror?" Mary replied, looking awestruck. Before the blonde could divulge her usual gossip, Lily trod on her foot. She had heard much about the famous dark wizard capturer, none of it complementary, and felt it was prudent to listen attentively. As his original test had already shown, Moody was not taking this lightly. Thankfully, Mary took the hint and, at that moment, Moody resumed his tirade.
"Thank you, Prewett, for that piece of insight," he said disapprovingly. "Now, as I was saying," he shot Prewett a challenging glance, "unless there's something I don't know, girlish gossip isn't going to defeat You-Know-Who; so, let's get this meeting started."
"Here, here," muttered Prewett ironically, sharing a grimace with another redheaded man. Judging by their identical appearances, Lily surmised they were twins. Her interest piqued, she tried to focus her attention on Moody. But it wasn't Moody who had commandeered the floor. Although it made perfect sense, Lily still experienced a jolt when Albus Dumbledore emerged from the shadows.
"As Alastor so kindly explained, we are not here on pleasant business. That is not to say, however, that Miss Cowley and Mister Longbottom do not deserve our congratulations," he twinkled benignly, awarding the couple a genuine smile. Alice and Frank sat a little straighter in their chairs. Dumbledore's acknowledgement clearly meant the world to them and Lily watched as Alice took Frank's hand in her own. The love they shared was palpable, and Lily couldn't help a tiny stab of jealousy and her thoughts veered dangerously close to James.
Shaking her head, she returned to their conversation. A shadow had passed across Dumbledore's face, diminishing the sparkle in his eyes, and he appeared sombre. "We have – as you can see – some new recruits." He inclined his head gravely in the Gryffindors' direction and Lily was very conscious of the stares focused upon her. "I realise they are young, but they have expressed a wish to join the fight and, as Alastor so succinctly demonstrated, are a talented group. I have, therefore, decided to accede to this request. Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore, beaming at the little group.
"This isn't a boy scouts' meeting, Albus," growled Moody from the corner, rapping his staff on the ground.
"I'm well aware of the fact," Dumbledore replied, unnervingly serene. "But Mister Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew are not boy scouts."
"Certainly not," exclaimed Sirius, affecting outrage. Despite the slightly awkward silence, Lily snorted at the mental image. "The Marauders are at your service, ladies and gentleman." He gave a sweeping bow and, quite suddenly, the ice was broken. The redheads seemed to recognise Sirius as one of their own, and they even congratulated Lily on her admittance, declaring her an honorary member of their ginger clan.
All in all, it was nothing like Lily had expected. However, it made total sense. The aura of paranoia was understandable, yet there was an undercurrent of camaraderie that Lily hadn't anticipated. The twins' heckling was just one example and the meeting was interspersed with light hearted teasing.
That didn't mean the evening was entirely jovial. Lily and her friends listened with growing horror to the reports of Voldemort's activities. Sirius' belief that the Ministry was compromised was validated and Remus looked increasingly uncomfortable when a woman named Hestia talked about werewolf involvement. Lily felt a pang of sympathy. If what she suspected was true, Remus was probably experiencing a wave of self loathing. Out the corner of her eye, Lily saw James smile reassuringly at Remus and felt another swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach. Why, in the name of Merlin, did he make her feel this way? Lily had no answers.
In truth, there were a lot of things Lily didn't know. The countless reports, on everything from werewolves to giants, demonstrated a gaping hole in Lily's awareness. The efficient division of responsibilities was slightly overwhelming. From the sounds of it, the Order members were involved in areas spanning both espionage and protection. As they organised shifts, Lily wondered if she and her friends would be called upon to help. Her question – well, one of them at least – was soon answered.
"I am sure," said Dumbledore lightly, blue eyes surveying the group, "that you are eager to take part. I must insist, however, that you refrain from these activities until you have left school." This statement appeared logical to Lily, who had been trying to juggle the logistics of curfew and clandestine missions, but some of the others looked outraged.
"We're not allowed to help?" asked James, sounding slightly angry. If Lily didn't know better, she could've sworn he was thinking of his father. She knew how desperately James wanted to right the wrongs of this world. It was one of the reasons she liked him so much.
"Not in that particular role," agreed Dumbledore. Sirius, too, opened his mouth in frustration. Before he could interject, though, the Headmaster cut across him. "There are, however, other services needed. Some supervision of your classmates, for example, would hardly go amiss. I have my suspicions about the Death Eaters within our student body, but without concrete proof I cannot act." Lily had the oddest sensation that Dumbledore was withholding something, but couldn't put her finger on it. Surely Dumbledore, the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared, could catch a few teenagers. Perhaps, thought Lily suddenly, it was about testing her friends' capabilities? Did Dumbledore want to stay his hand, allowing them to grow within the safer confines of Hogwarts? Or, another voice whispered, did he want the Gryffindors to convert them? Severus' face flashed into her mind and Lily felt a stab of sadness. If that was the case, Dumbledore's hopes were false. If she couldn't get Severus to change his mind, there was no way they could affect the others. However, this could be wild speculation. The myriad of possibilities made her head spin.
She was fairly certain, though, that there was more to it. Watching James, she saw he had a similarly pensive expression and their eyes met across the room. Lily's spine shivered and it was not an altogether unpleasant experience. He continued to hold her gaze, disregarding the enthusiastic assent of the others, and there seemed to be a wealth of meaning behind his eyes. His face quite clearly asked if she was buying Dumbledore's explanation. She gently shook her head, moving it a fraction of an inch either side.
Their silent conversation was interrupted by the scraping of chairs. Looking up, Lily was surprised to see that the meeting had ended. Her friends stared at them expectantly and Lily sensed it was time to go. Quickly embracing Alice, and waving goodbye to some of the others, they headed towards the door. Lily was aware of Alice shouting something after her, the word wedding clearly definable, and gave a joking salute in return. Without another word, the group left the meeting and traipsed downstairs.
As they walked through the bar, struggling to keep the urge to chatter under wraps, the barman stared at them. His earlier belligerence was gone, replaced by a less definable emotion. "I see you've not fled in fright," was his only response.
"Of course not," said Mary staunchly, to murmured agreement. Again, the barman did not reply. After waiting a few moments, during which he returned to his scrubbing, they gave up. Pushing the pub's door open, they went into the night. The snow was still thick and tiny flakes swirled around them, dancing their beautiful dance.
Despite everything that had transpired, Lily let herself revel in the falling snow. She slipped slightly on the ice and James reached out to steady her, his hand grasping hers. Catching her eye, he gave it a gentle squeeze before tucking it around his arm. She blushed slightly, even as her heart rate sped up. Sadly, neither the heat in her cheeks nor the cold in the air could numb her emotions. Her heart had broken for those blighted by the Death Eaters' actions and the rising anger was impossible to ignore. The extent of Voldemort's influence had shocked her to the core, yet the extraordinary courage and determination of the Order had given Lily hope. The Head Girl was still uneasy about Dumbledore's plans for her friends, but she knew they had to trust him. For what else could they do? She suspected they were outnumbered – quite significantly, in fact – but they were fighting for what was right.
And Lily knew that made all the difference in the world.
A/N: Stay tuned for some romance in the next few chapters... ;)