A/N: Laaaate chapter. Why? Because I decided to add a scene to it and when I was halfway done with it, I closed it by accident and lost it. So, I had to start over. It was great fun and I don't want to die at all. Anyway, I hope this chapter is to your liking, please let me know what you think.
awkwardosu, thank you! I hope to hear more from you. rosequartz121, that's so nice, I hope the chapters continue to be worth the wait! ForeverACharmedOne, Oh man, Peter and Gwen was actually not intentional and now I feel silly? Haha. This is like during critiques in school. "Was this intentional?" The answer is always yes. Anyway, glad you liked the chapter, thank you again for your review.
"She's clearly a lovely lady."
"Does she have a name, then? Marlene, maybe?"
Chapter Twenty-Six: Risks
"Sneakoscope," Mr. Evans read the box as he and his wife unwrapped their gift from their daughter this Christmas morning. It was snowing lightly outside and soft music was playing from the radio on the mantle.
"It's lovely, dear," Mrs. Evans said, leaning over her husband's shoulder to better examine the box. "Er, what is it for?"
"It alerts you to threats," Lily said, pointing to the side of the box, which listed all the features of this particular model. "If someone or something means to do you harm, it will make a great fuss to warn you about it."
"Oh, that seems useful," her father said, clearly humoring her as he turned the box over to read it.
"Lily, dear, surely you didn't need to get us this when the McKinnon boy already came by and put some spells on the house, did you?" Mrs. Evans said.
"The spells might not be enough, I just want to make sure that you two are safe is all," Lily said, knowing that her parents wouldn't be excited about the gift, though their reaction was lackluster all the same.
"Enough for what dear? Max was very vague when he came by to cast the spells," Mr. Evans said, eying his daughter in concern.
"He just said that there had been some robberies," Mrs. Evans said. "That some wizards were taking advantage of muggle households."
Lily bit her lip, fiddling with the sleeve of her pajamas.
"What aren't you telling us, Poppet?" Mr. Evans said.
Lily didn't suppose there was any way of getting out of this, of explaining why she was so concerned for their safety without giving proper reasoning. She took a deep breath.
"There have been attacks," Lily said, not looking them in the eye. "Attacks targeting muggles and muggle sympathizers. There's this group, called Death Eaters, and they're trying to send out this awful, disgusting, anti-muggle message to the magical community."
"What sort of attacks?" Mrs. Evan asked, eyes wide. Mr. Evans had set the sneakoscope's box down and Lily had his full attention.
"They're… well, um, you see, they're…" Lily said.
"They're killing them?" Mr. Evans provided. Lily nodded. Lily's mother covered her mouth in shock.
"How long has this been going on?" she demanded.
"A couple of years, the attacks have really picked up recently, though," Lily said. "They think he's gaining more followers—"
"Who?" Mr. Evans said.
"Lord Voldemort," Lily said. "We don't really say his name, it's sort of taboo. Most call him 'You-Know-Who.'"
Her parents exchanged looks. Lily swallowed, eyes darting between the two of them.
"So, this Lord Voldemort is gathering together a bunch of anti-muggle followers so that they can rush around killing muggles to make a point? And the attacks have become frequent enough that you felt it necessary to take precautions to protect us?" her father said.
"I mean. Basically," Lily nodded.
"Why didn't you tell us anything earlier?" Mrs. Evans said.
"I didn't want you to worry, there's nothing you can really do about it," Lily said. "But I can. That's why I got you the sneakoscope. That's why Marlene asked Max to cast the spells. It's not fool-proof but you're safer now."
"If we're not safe, surely you aren't safe," Mr. Evans said. "Maybe we ought to pull you out of that school."
"No!" Lily said immediately, eyes wide as she met her father's, the same shade of green.
"Well, Lily, if there are people that wish to do harm to 'muggle sympathizers' as you said, maybe your father is right, we can't in good conscience put you in that environment," Mrs. Evans said.
"Hogwarts is safe, I promise you, I'm safe there," Lily said desperately. "Look, no one really advertises who their relatives are unless they're wizards. Most of the school really doesn't know I'm muggleborn, I promise, and even at that, no one's going around killing students."
They were just going around carving symbols into desks and writing slurs on bathroom mirrors, but Lily wasn't about to tell her parents that.
Mr. and Mrs. Evans exchanged glances again.
"Please, don't pull me out of Hogwarts," Lily practically begged. "I'll be no use to you if I can't finish school—"
"You'll be no use to us dead either, Poppet," Mr. Evans said.
"Please, Dad, please. It won't prepare me any more for what's out there to stop going to school and pretend it's not happening. Don't pull me out, it's the only place I sort of belong. Please," Lily said, eyes watering at the thought of never seeing the castle again. She never imagined that she'd be having this conversation after presenting her parents with something designed to keep them safe.
"Oh, Lily, don't cry. You are such a smart, beautiful girl, Hogwarts is not the only place you'll fit in," her mother cooed, moving to put an arm around her shoulder.
Her father sighed heavily. "I'm writing that headmaster of yours a letter," he said. "I want his word that you'll be safe."
Lily nodded. "Yes, yes! You'll get it!"
"You'll need an owl, Dear," her mother reminded him.
"I'll call Dorcas later to ask to borrow hers," Lily said.
"Fine," her father said, picking up the box for the sneakoscope again. "Show us how this thing works, then."
Sirius and James had disappeared into the shed again once Christmas morning had faded into Christmas afternoon, eager to have a go with the gifts that they had received.
"This thing is great!" James grinned as he twisted a pencil in the small, metal pencil sharpener that had come in the pencil case that Peter had sent him to go along with the sketchpad that Remus had sent. He had envied the one that Remus had for ages and was thrilled to have one of his own.
Not big on pencils in general, the wizarding world was not big on efficient ways to sharpen said pencils either.
"I'm happy for you, Mate," Sirius said, barely glancing up from the tools that James had gotten him for his motorcycle, having been making adjustments since they got to the shed. His leather jacket was lying across the seat, now adorned with a lion on the back, a patch sent by Remus.
"Think you'll finally be able to get that thing running?" James asked, now with a neat row of sharpened pencils and a pile of pencil shavings. He flipped through the book that Sirius had given him: a collection of artwork by Gil Elvgren, hoping to find something to copy for practice.
"I hope so, I feel like I'm doing her a disservice by leaving her in here all the time," Sirius said.
"'Her?'" James snorted.
"She's clearly a lovely lady," Sirius said, gesturing to the bike.
"Does she have a name, then? Marlene, maybe?" James teased.
Sirius groaned. "Definitely not that."
"You don't know, maybe Marlene would get all flattered and change her mind about you if you name your bike that," James said.
"This line of thinking is why Evans will never date you, that's not how girls work," Sirius said. "If anything, she'd think 'Wow, what a creep. I explicitly told him that I don't want to date him and he named his motorcycle after me? Time to get a restraining order.'"
"You can't take a joke when it comes to her, can you?" James sighed.
"Nothing's too funny anymore in regards to dear McKinnon," Sirius scowled.
"We still gotta prank her for that, any ideas?" James asked, hoping to steer the conversation into a lighter place.
"Something that'll ruin her post-practice showers, I'd think," Sirius said, setting the tools aside and standing upright.
"Good call. We could dye her like the Slytherins but I'd hate to repeat a prank, especially so soon…" James said thoughtfully. His eyes lit up when he turned the page in his book and held it up to show Sirius. "Look at this one."
"You're a cliché," Sirius sighed, pulling on his jacket. The image on that page was of a curvy redhead, seated on a bed.
"I am not," James said. "I just… have a type, I guess."
"Yeah, a type named 'Lily Evans,'" Sirius said, climbing on the motorcycle and attempting to start it yet again.
James was already lightly sketching out the pin-up as Sirius tried and failed to start the motorcycle. Another try, another fail, and James' pencil slid around the paper in an attempt to gesture out the basic shape of the woman.
His head shot upward, however, when the motorcycle's engine roared to life, Sirius grinning from ear to ear.
"You started it!" James said.
"I started it!" Sirius repeated, practically cheering. He revved the engine a few times, the noise entirely satisfying.
"So, er, do you even know how to—?" James started, unable to finish his inquiry before Sirius darted out of the open door to the shed at such great speeds that the boy was almost thrown from the vehicle.
James stood from the table, his drawing supplies forgotten, and rushed out of the shed, finding both Sirius and the motorcycle on their sides in a pile of snow in the garden.
"It works!" Sirius cheered, fumbling to get back to his feet and prop the motorcycle back upright.
"You know people die on those, right?" James grinned.
"I'm resilient," Sirius said, climbing back on the bike and taking off again, this time with much more success as he followed the path around the estate.
"Did he get it working finally?" Fleamont said, he and Euphemia now standing on the back porch, having come out to investigate as soon as they heard the noise of the engine.
"Sirius! Sirius, you be careful!" Euphemia called after Sirius as he made a tight turn around an ice-covered fountain. "You're going awfully fast!"
Sirius skidded to a stop near James, coating him in slush as he did.
"Really!?" James groaned, pulling off his glasses and trying to wipe off the snow.
"Sorry, Prongs," Sirius said, still grinning. Euphemia was already at James' side, wand out to dry him off.
"How does this thing work, then?" Fleamont was asking Sirius, who dove right into an excited explanation, gesturing to different parts of the bike.
"There you are, Love," Euphemia said as soon as she had successfully dried off her son. She glanced up in time to see her husband darting off on the motorcycle, letting out a cheerful yell as he did so. She sighed heavily. "Fleamont! Oi! Don't hurt yourself, you git!"
"He's doing great," Sirius said.
"Well he's already made it longer than you did without crashing," James smirked as his father took the motorcycle around in circles, cheering the whole way.
"This is great fun! 'Phemia, you have to try!" Fleamont called, still going in circles.
"Not if that's all it is, you're making me dizzy!" Euphemia called, unable to hide her grin. Fleamont managed to stop the motorcycle in front of them without sending slush everywhere and gestured for Euphemia to get on the seat behind him.
"Can two people go on at once?" Euphemia asked Sirius.
"Oh yeah," Sirius nodded. Euphemia eyed the bike critically before adjusting her skirt and cautiously climbing on behind Fleamont, sliding her arms around his waist.
"Not too f—!" she started before Fleamont was taking off. She let out a small shriek, her grip tightening on the man. He drove her around the snow-coated hedges, down the length of the property.
"You better not get our parents killed," James said to Sirius, cringing slightly as his father took a turn rather sharply and the bike skidded slightly. Thankfully, Fleamont managed to recover and appeared to be laughing the whole way.
"They'll be fine," Sirius said.
"They'd better be, or we'll have to move in with yours," James sighed, his mother shrieking slightly as his father insisted on going around in circles again.
"Stop it, I told you, I'm getting dizzy!" she called out.
"You're no fun!" Fleamont called back, taking off in a less curvy path on the way back to the boys. "I should have married a Gryffindor!"
"Ha! If you hadn't married a Ravenclaw, you'd be dead by now!" Euphemia said.
Fleamont slowed to a stop in front of the boys and glanced over his shoulder at his wife, still clinging tightly to his torso. "Yes, I suppose that's probably true."
"My Gryffindor boys are going to be the death of me on the other hand," Euphemia said, kissing his cheek before letting go and climbing off the bike.
"It was fun, though, right?" Fleamont grinned, climbing off the bike as well.
"Yes, yes, when you weren't trying to make me vomit," Euphemia said with a slight roll of the eye as Sirius settled back on the bike. "You be careful on that, okay? Don't hurt yourself."
"I will," Sirius nodded. He gestured for James to get on, the only one that hadn't yet. James eyed the bike in much the same manner his mother had earlier.
"I'm way more comfortable with a broom," James said hesitantly.
"Come on, Wanker," Sirius taunted. That's all it took. James rolled his eyes and walked over, barely taking a seat before Sirius took off.
After making sure that he wasn't about to fall off thanks to Sirius' haste, James set a hand to each of his friend's shoulders, watching the garden zip by as the cold air stung their faces.
It was like being on a broom, but with far more weight. The motorcycle didn't turn as smoothly as a broom, but the machine roared beneath them with power that a broom could never possess.
"Okay, I think I understand it," James grinned as they leaned into a turn and Sirius let out another excited holler.
The yellow telephone on the wall rang shrilly. The family was watching some stop motion special in the living room, so it wasn't until the telephone rang a third time that Josh set the receiver to his ear.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hi, Mr. Meadowes, is Dorcas available? It's Lily Evans."
"Mr. Meadowes? Since when are we on such formal terms, Miss Evans?"
"Josh!? Oh, wow, we didn't get to talk at the train station, your voice has changed so much! Sorry about that."
"You're fine," Josh said, amused.
"Is Dorcas there?"
"Yeah, one second," Josh said, he moved the receiver from his face before calling into the next room. "Oi! Dorcas! Part of your coven on the phone!"
Dorcas walked into the kitchen a moment later, cocking a brow. "Which one?"
"Lily," he said, handing her the receiver before heading back to the living room where he would no doubt take the place on the armchair that Dorcas had just vacated.
Prat.
"Hello Lily, Happy Christmas," Dorcas said, taking a seat atop the counter and setting the receiver to her ear.
"Happy Christmas, Dorcas," Lily replied. "How's yours been?"
"Oh, the usual. My gran sent me something I'd never wear, Dad forgot I don't like walnuts, Mum forgot to turn the oven on so the rolls didn't bake," Dorcas said cheerfully. "What about you?"
"Well, I gave my parents the sneakoscope," Lily said, sounding somewhat exhausted as she relayed this information.
"Did it not go well?"
"Not really. I wound up telling them about all the attacks recently."
"Oh, no," Dorcas cringed. She wondered if Mr. And Mrs. Evans would tell her parents.
"Yeah. They were talking about pulling me out of Hogwarts."
"No!" Dorcas said at once. "That isn't an option, you can't leave school!"
"I know."
Dorcas lowered her voice, eyeing the walkway to the living room as she did. "This is part of why I haven't told my parents what's going on, they'd probably say the same thing. I mean, we can't just… stop going to Hogwarts. What options will we have then? We need our education and it's not like we can go back to muggle school after five years worth of spells and potions, you know? I don't know anything about geometry, I haven't read anything by George Orwell."
"Exactly! And we can't get decent work in the wizard world with even just OWL scores, they want NEWTs. Leaving Hogwarts is just…"
"It's cancelling any chance we have. And I mean, it's hard enough as it is, being taken seriously, there's so much stacked against us. I'm black, we're both muggleborn, we're women, we can't have missed out on finishing school on top of all that. What future will that leave us?"
"I know. It's all rubbish. And I get that they want to keep me safe but I don't think I could handle not going to Hogwarts. I don't belong here, in the muggle world."
"It's so… heavy, I guess. Because I hear what you're saying, I don't feel like I totally belong here either, and it doesn't help that it's like every time I come back from school, so much has changed. But then you have people in the magic world that want us dead because we're not 'magic enough' or something, so where exactly should we be at that point?"
"We belong at Hogwarts. Like anyone with magic parents do. Those wankers will have to learn to deal with it."
Dorcas smiled. "I told you, continuing to go to school while simultaneously being muggleborn is like spiritually punching You-Know-Who in the face."
"I'm really feeling that way right now," Lily said with a slight laugh. "But my dad wants to write to Dumbledore, to really make sure that I'll be safe at school. Dumbledore is usually pretty good at easing their concerns, but we need an owl. Do you suppose Bubba would be willing to make the trip?"
"Yeah, I'm sure he will, I'll send him your way once he gets back from hunting," Dorcas said. "Maybe mention to your parents that Dumbledore's already defeated one dark wizard before, so it would be incredibly stupid for another one to try to attack Hogwarts while he's headmaster."
"That's a good point, I'll see if I can bring it up without starting the whole discussion about whether I should go back to Hogwarts or not again."
"Good luck with that."
"Thanks. And thanks for letting me borrow Bubba, too."
"No problem, he really doesn't work as much as most owls, the lazy bum."
"I really want a cat but perhaps I should invest in an owl."
"Or Hogwarts could just get a damn telephone, this is so much easier," Dorcas sighed.
"Right? I love magic but get with the times! It's 1975, there are phones!"
"At least we got Petunia's old record player to work if nothing else."
"Emmeline called the other day, I guess Tuney went by the restaurant with her boyfriend."
"Oh yeah? What wait staff horror stories did she have to share this time?" Dorcas said. Emmeline's stories were enough to convince the girl that there was no part of her that wanted to work in a restaurant.
"I guess Tuney's boyfriend is a real piece of work. I know my parents weren't too sure what to think of him when they met him. Em said that every time she came by the table he was saying something else awful."
"Awful like what?"
"Stuff like equal pay not being an issue—"
"Oh come on."
"—Telling Emmeline she should smile more—"
"I hate when guys do that, and it's usually always guys I don't know?"
"—saying the woman at his firm was a bitch for turning down one of his ideas and said she must have been on her period—"
"This guy is awful."
"—and apparently my sister agreed with him—"
"Petunia, no!"
"—apparently he thinks women only take birth control pills on the days they're having sex—"
"Merlin's beard, I hate men—and how did they get into this discussion at dinner?"
"—And he seemed frustrated when Petunia told him that's not how it worked and made some kind of comment about sluts anyway?—"
"She's found herself a real winner."
"—then he was talking about when Petunia 'quits her job to become a mother.' I wasn't aware that was the plan?—"
"I mean does that seem like a Petunia thing to do or?"
"Emmeline said that Petunia didn't get a lot of words in edgewise. I don't know, I guess I can see Petunia being happy as a homemaker, she always loved playing house and stuff… but I don't know, she was so excited to go to London and take this typing course, I guess I thought she'd want to do more with it?"
"I don't know, to each her own I guess, it feels like a waste otherwise to learn a skill and not use it."
"I guess. But maybe she was just hoping to meet someone. Em said that when he wasn't making weird comments like that, he was talking about spreadsheets or his golf buddies."
"Sounds exciting," Dorcas said sarcastically.
"I hate to say it but he sounds just like her type."
"Say hello to the future father of your nieces and nephews, then."
"Oh Merlin, family gatherings would be so weird."
"Petunia and her ignorant husband, you and James—"
"I am not marrying him!"
Dorcas giggled. "But just picture James trying to hold a conversation with Petunia and tell me that shit's not funny."
"She would hate him. So I guess it would even out."
"You and your sister would have something in common again!"
"That's true."
"I'm sorry your sister is dating someone that alternates between being boring and being an idiot."
"So am I. I'm hoping maybe Em was exaggerating and whenever I finally meet him, he won't be that bad… or that maybe this relationship won't last very long."
"She does exaggerate sometimes, so, maybe," Dorcas said, though she knew full well that Emmeline mostly exaggerated when it came to her own woes, not those of others.
She was sure that Lily probably knew that too.
"Yeah. Maybe. Anyway, I've got to go, I'll talk to you soon?"
"Absolutely. I'll send Bubba over tonight. Good luck with everything."
"Thanks, I think I'll need it."
It was the twenty-eighth of December, and as Lily wrote out another paragraph for her transfiguration homework, she mentally reminded herself that she ought to call Emmeline later and wish her a Happy Birthday. The previous year, Lily had gotten so caught up trying to talk to Petunia, that it wasn't until her head hit the pillow that night that she remembered with a jolt that it was her dear friend's birthday.
She did not want a repeat this year. She would call Emmeline in a timely manner once this essay was satisfactorily completed.
The doorbell rang.
Lily glanced up at the sound. Her mother and father were currently battling with the washing machine in the back room. With a sigh, Lily set her pen aside and tucked her essay into her textbook as she called, "I'll get it."
Strolling through the sitting room, Lily stood on the tips of her toes and glanced out the peep hole.
She gasped.
The man outside, distorted slightly through the glass, had a crooked nose and a beard long enough to tuck into his belt. He seemed to be examining the wreath hanging on the door and appeared to be humming a tune to himself.
He hadn't bothered with any muggle disguises. He wore robes of a deep purple, and a thick traveling cloak.
Lily unlocked the door and pulled it open. "Professor Dumbledore! What are you doing here?"
"Hello, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "I received your parents' owl and thought I'd answer in person, if that's all right."
The redhead watched him a moment, still surprised that he was there at all and barely comprehending that he would come by to speak with her parents in the flesh rather than just writing a letter back. Finally, she said, "Oh, yes! Professor, thank you. Please, come in."
She stepped aside and Dumbledore strode in. Lily was glad that she had recently vacuumed and helped her mother dust, or her parents would be quite upset with her for inviting company in to a disheveled sitting room.
"Mum! Dad! Professor Dumbledore is here!" Lily called as she closed the door. She could hear the faint thudding of the bouncing and protesting washing machine and received no response. They must not be able to hear her. She turned back to Dumbledore, who was examining the photos on the wall. Should she offer him a seat? Tea? They had started a kettle before he arrived. What did one do when their headmaster strolled up to their front door?
For a moment, she tried to channel Petunia, tried to remember her playing hostess for the stuffed animals in their youth.
"Er, Professor, if you'd like to take a seat, I'll go fetch my parents," Lily said, gesturing to the nearby arm chair. "Would, um, would you like some tea?"
"That would be lovely, Miss Evans, thank you," Dumbledore said, settling down in the arm chair. Lily scurried off to the laundry room.
Once inside, she found her parents panting heavily but looking triumphant, duct tape covering much of the surface of the washing machine. It was no longer bouncing, though it was still quite loud.
"Who was at the door, Poppet?" her father asked.
"Professor Dumbledore," Lily said. "He's in the sitting room, he's come to talk to you two."
Her parents' eyes widened in surprise and they exchanged glances. Lily's mother quickly ran her fingers through her hair and reached to fix her husband's collar. After a few moments more of fussing, they left the laundry room to go introduce themselves to Dumbledore.
Lily rushed to the kitchen, fumbling with tea cups and sugar. It was almost painful, how much longer it took to do things the muggle way. By the time she had gathered everything together and set it on a tray to carry back to the sitting room, her parents and Dumbledore were already in conversation.
"...really quite a talented student, her professors have nothing but good things to say, you should be proud," Dumbledore was saying. Lily set the tray on the coffee table and Dumbledore helped himself to a cup.
"Oh, we are!" Mrs. Evans said as Lily settled between her parents on the sofa. She noted that they looked to be a bit in awe of Dumbledore, and she understood. Whenever one thought "wizard," something like Dumbledore was surely what they imagined. He looked like he came straight out of a storybook.
"A witch in the family! I wish we were allowed to brag about it every time the neighbor goes on about his son on the football team. My daughter can concoct a cure for the common cold!" Mr. Evans said, patting Lily affectionately on the shoulder. She felt her cheeks burn red.
"And a prefect, too! We're really so proud of her, you have no idea," Mrs. Evans added.
"Sir," Lily asked, feeling somewhat awkward that the current subject seemed to be praise in her direction. "Did you happen to send Bubba home?"
"Is that the grumpy owl that delivered the letter? He belongs to Miss Meadowes, I believe?" Dumbledore asked. Lily nodded. Dumbledore smiled. "Ah. Yes, he left shortly after giving me the letter. Acted as though I had offended him greatly by being the recipient. I imagine he went home."
"I'll call Dorcas later to make sure," Lily said, suddenly remembering yet again that she needed to call Emmeline.
"On the subject of the letter," Dumbledore said, and Lily set her teacup down, her hands beginning to tremble slightly. "It is, of course, your prerogative to take your daughter out of school. You would not be the first, nor the last, to choose to do so. As you wrote to me with your concerns, however, I assume you would like my opinion and I must say that I believe it would be a terrible idea."
"We understand that her education is important," Mrs. Evans said, absent-mindedly stirring her tea. "We're just afraid for her safety."
"Like we said in the letter, Lily told us about, er, what did you call him, Poppet?" Mr. Evans said, glancing Lily's way.
"Lord—I mean, You-Know—" Lily started.
"Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "Do not shy away from saying his name, Miss Evans. Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself. I, for one, do not intend to give Voldemort such power."
Even her parents seemed to realize by that simple statement just how brave the old man sipping tea before them was.
"I share your concerns," he continued. "And I can promise you that I have and will continue to do everything in my power to keep my students safe. The school is protected by a number of enchantments. Shield charms and the like."
"Lily had said that you defeated another dark wizard before," Mrs. Evans said.
Dumbledore's face fell slightly, but he recovered quite quickly. "I will not pretend that the situation with Lord Voldemort is the same as the situation with Gellert Grindelwald. Do I have experience with dark wizards? Yes. I have advised many a minister for magic, and I am the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot."
"The wizard high court," Lily informed her parents before they could ask.
"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded. "My staff is quite competent as well. I'm sure Miss Evans has told you of her head of house and my deputy headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. I do believe one of Lily's classmates occasionally calls her 'Hurricane Minerva.'"
Lily rolled her eyes at the thought of Sirius Black.
"She is a force to be reckoned with," Dumbledore said. "I'd fear more for the wizard foolish enough to challenge her, and she is but one member of my staff. Professor Flitwick is a dueling champion. There is a whole town of wizards nearby. It would be incredibly risky to attack Hogwarts, and I do not believe Voldemort is in the position right now to do so."
"But he could be in the future?" Mr. Evans said.
"Anything is possible, but for the time being, I very much doubt it," Dumbledore said.
"So, you truly believe that Lily will be safe there?" Mrs. Evans said.
"I do," Dumbledore nodded.
"Can you guarantee it?" Mr. Evans said.
Dumbledore took another sip of tea. "No. But I can guarantee that she is safer at Hogwarts than she would be elsewhere."
Lily eyed her parents expectantly. They were glancing at each other with frowns fixed to their faces.
"Fine," Mrs. Evans said. Mr. Evans nodded, but slightly. "You can go back to school."