A/N: Weird, weird, weird chapter.
Disclaimer: Copyright Jo-Ro
Before: Lily and James almost kiss, but then Lily is like, "no," and then James goes on holiday with his family, and it's supposed to last a month, but for the first two weeks, Carlotta Meloni stays nearby, and the two hit it off. In the Biblical sense. James gets Head Boy, and Lily gets Head Girl. James is less than thrilled. Donna's parents were killed by Voldemort in her fourth year. Marlene is hung up on Adam, and she cuts all her hair off because she's sick of pining.
Dedicated to an "Anonymous" who is having a hard week. I hope you enjoy the chapter.
Chapter 28- "Phoenix"
Or
"Stand By Me"
In an unexpected ending to the strangest thirty-six hour period of her life, Lily found herself sliding her feet into her brown high-heeled sandals. There was no hope for her hair, so she pulled it into a single plait, which she hung over her right shoulder and tied with navy ribbon. She brushed a light dusting of blue powder on her eyelids, applying a veneer of pink lipstick over her chapped lips and enough ivory concealer to fill in the imperfections on her face, incurred through the last day and a half of madness. She felt odd, blinking her eyelashes over the mascara brush and surveying the finished product in the looking glass: her flower patterned navy blue peasant dress (which revealed two thirds of the legs she had shaved only minutes before), the gold bangles that hung on her arms (half concealing bruises from that sodding door), and the large hoop earrings she had worn to Petunia's wedding (an eternal five weeks prior). Yes, it was an odd sight indeed. The unmistakable air of exhaustion (exhilarated, excited, proud exhaustion) that presented itself in her mirror image was the only clue that the last thirty-six hours were anything more than an unusual dream.
They were certainly no dream.
Somehow, despite the fact that her form was not all that it should have been, despite her futile wish to look perfect for this particular occasion, and despite her knowledge that she would soon have pictures taken, forever immortalizing this weary, sleep-deprived, hungry (Sirius's crisps seemed an eternity ago) version of herself, Lily had never been so proud of her appearance. Every battle scar, every indication that she had not slept the night before, not eaten for hours and hours, not had a relaxing moment to herself in days, was a medal of honor.
"You look nice," said a voice somewhere behind her, and Lily realized that she had been so absorbed in the moment that she had failed to notice that she was no longer alone in that little room. James Potter stood there, still wearing that ridiculous (okay, maybe not completely meritless) black hat.
"Thank-you," the redhead replied, sighing, as she turned to face the new arrival. "So do you. Fedora aside..."
"I could use a shower... and I thought we learned not to mock the fedora."
"We could all use a shower, and it's still a ridiculous hat."
"You're better at faking it, and the hat is classy."
"Well you're welcome to borrow some perfume."
"That would just spawn a whole new set of problems," said James, and Lily didn't really know what he meant, but she didn't feel like questioning it.
She turned and set her mascara back down on the table. "So what are you doing here anyway? Why aren't you with the boys?"
"I was sent to look for you actually," James replied. "They'll be starting in a minute."
"I see. You drew the short straw, did you?"
"Volunteered actually," he corrected. Lily looked at him curiously—hadn't he had enough of her over the last two days? James hesitated before continuing: "I just—I wanted to talk to you..."
Lily raised her eyebrows. "About what?"
For a few moments, James hesitated. When he did speak, he had that look about him, as though he had wanted to say one thing and ended up saying another: "I guess to say thank-you."
"Thank-you for what?"
James shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "Trusting me, I guess. And the thing with the door, too."
And, quite suddenly, the sight of James there was ridiculously endearing. Lily crossed the distance between them in about a second, pulling him into a tight embrace. He seemed stunned for a few seconds, before relaxing a little and reciprocating the hug, his arms wrapped around her waist. They had never—she thought—been so close, and James was right—he could use a good shower, but, Lily found she didn't mind the vague scent of fatigue and life. It was James. It was the same James who had sat and stood and ran and shouted with her that day. He had held her hand, and that had meant something, though she really didn't know what. She didn't question it either, just as she did not question his presence with her now. It was James—she knew better now than to question anything.
She didn't want to let go. Something strange—familiar and alien at the same time—stirred in the pit of her stomach as they stood there. She was suddenly conscious of ever inch of her body—the stubble on his unshaven face that bristled against her bare arm, his arms on the crook of her back. She had never found much solace in another's arms (for her, comfort was better achieved in solitude), but just then, this was exactly what she needed. She didn't want to let go, but, when he began to pull away, she did.
"You weren't kidding about the perfume," he teased, once they broke apart.
"And you weren't kidding about the shower," she replied lightly, before adding more seriously, but with a small smile: "Thank-you for checking in on me, but I'll be alright. Really, I'll be just fine."
James folded his arms, his expression changing. "And what if you're not?"
But Lily didn't even have time to inquire to his meaning now; Marlene's voice interrupted them, as the witch herself appeared on the threshold. The only one of them who'd had a chance to shower, the blonde had certainly benefited. She looked refreshed and calm in her cotton green dress.
"They're ready," Marlene informed the pair, smiling softly, as she tucked a short lock of her new pixie cut hair behind her ears. "Are you?"
Lily looked at James. "'Course I am," he told her. "I don't have a job to do though, do I? Are you ready, Snaps?"
The redhead moved hastily across the small room to a table in the corner, where there rested her ribbon-tied handful of yellow daisies. She picked up the simple bouquet and turned to the other two. "I'm ready."
As she followed James and Marlene into the corridor, Lily reflected once more on the surrealism of it all: in the last thirty-six hours, she had been hugged, pushed, hit, hexed, chased, and kind-of arrested... She had never been so tired in her life, and yet—if presented with the choice between standing up now or lying in the softest bed imaginable—she wouldn't change a thing. What a strange day, indeed.
(Thirty-Four Hours Earlier)
"Only two days after the leak that interim head of the Department of Magical Law-Enforcement, Egbert Dearborn, would likely retain the position recently vacated by Alexander Potter, The Daily Prophet reported that Dearborn was in the process of imposing a new piece of legislation, the Magical Population Protection Act. Today, Dearborn confirmed that he has been involved in drafting the Act..."
Lily's hairbrush only just missed the wireless, as she hurled it across her bedroom at the offending box in a futile expression of her displeasure.
"Bloody lunatics," she muttered to no one in particular, before rising from her desk and manually switching off the news report. She picked up the hairbrush again and dragged it through her wet curls a few more times before tossing it on the bed. "Swear to Merlin, the whole world is going mad..."
It was comforting to know, at least, that she could speak as loudly as she liked without her mother knocking on the door to question her sanity. Mrs. Evans's five day trip—beginning two days before—to the Dursleyhome meant Lily had the entire house to herself until Wednesday night. Petunia and Vernon had returned from their honeymoon the week before, and Petunia wanted her mother to come and spend some time in the new house while Vernon was away on business.
Lily, having attended boarding school for the last six years, had found solitude hard to come by, and—though she loved her mother dearly—she had been looking forward to a few days on her own. Then, this—the Magical Population Protection Act.
The Daily Prophet sat beside the hairbrush on her bed, and its account of Egbert Dearborn's Magical Population Protection Act was as good a description as any.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement will now be responsible for the number of muggleborn witches and wizards accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While, previously, all known muggleborns of sufficient magical ability in the country have been granted Hogwarts letters, Egbert Dearborn plans to limit the number to two every year, so as to minimize the possibility that a muggleborn, breeding with a witch or wizard, will pass on the "muggle trait."
Huffing, Lily pulled on her dressing gown and went into the sitting room, where she turned on the telly to calm her nerves. She had every moment of the day planned out: a nice breakfast of tea, toast, and eggs; an hour or so of television, some quality bonding time with Victor Hugo or F. Scott Fitzgerald, a quick run, and then maybe she'd try to cook something for supper.
The distressing news, both in The Prophet and on the wireless, only served to hamper the one goal of such a day: relaxation.
As it turned out, Lily didn't even finish breakfast.
With the hum of the television program in the background, Lily set about cleaning herself up; she dried her hair by magic and put on her make up, and then began to fix two slices of wheat toast. The kettle was on the stove for tea when the doorbell rang. Lily sighed—it was probably the postman with some question, as she could not imaine who else it might be—and made her way towards the door.
However, standing on her porch was, not the postman, but James Potter.
He was wearing a red t-shirt and a fedora.
Lily had been rather expecting their first meeting after the post-wedding almost-kiss ordeal to be rather awkward, but she had also expected it to take place on the Hogwarts Express, or back at school, and she rather hadn't counted on being barely clothed at the time. The surprise of seeing him there on her door step when he was meant to be across the country on holiday might have dispelled any opportunity for severe discomfort, except that Lily suddenly became quite conscious of the fact that besides a considerably oversized t-shirt, all she wore was a bathrobe. She immediately pulled her robe across to cover her front.
"Nice shirt," said James, and Lily, blushing slightly, scowled.
"Nice hat."
James rolled his eyes. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
Something about this boy always brought out the fight in Lily. "No. What are you doing here? Why aren't you at the coast?"
The wizard ignored her question, however, and posed his own: "Want to go to a protest?"
Lily stared. "What?"
"Clearly, Snaps, you haven't read The Daily Prophet this morning."
"Yes, I have." Lily caught on. "Wait, is this about Dearborn's legislation..."
"Well it's not about his favorite color. It's a lovely bathrobe, incidentally, Snaps, but are you sure you want your neighbors to see it?"
Lily rolled her eyes and stepped aside. "Alright, come in. But don't touch anything." James complied, removing his still unexplained hat but keeping it in hand, as Lily led the way into the kitchen and turned off the stove.
"Is your mum here?" James asked.
"No—she's staying with my sister. What exactly is going on?"
"Fairly disreputable and shady things, mostly," he replied. Lily offered him a chair and then tied up her robe more securely.
"Toast?"
"No, I've eaten."
Lily looked at him.
"Maybe a slice."
The witch placed one of her slices on a plate and put it on the kitchen table before him. "So?"
"Well," said James, "if you've read The Prophet, you've got the gist of it I suppose. A few weeks ago, the Ministry announced that Egbert Dearborn would be temporarily replacing my dad as head of D.M.L.E. Dad wasn't a fan, but Dearborn was only supposed to be interim head of the department, until they chose someone that could actually do the job."
"But on Sunday someone at the Ministry talked to someone at the Prophet and said that Dearborn was going to get the job for cert," said Lily. "I heard about that."
"Right, well, they're making the official announcement of their decision tomorrow."
"They can't possibly pick Dearborn," Lily muttered, chewing her toast discontentedly and leaning over the island counter. "This 'Population Protection' rubbish—it's practically death eater jargon."
"No one was supposed to know about that," James told her. "Not until after dear cousin Egbert got the job."
"Cousin?"
"Well... he's my mum's cousin. She's a Dearborn, too. Long story. The point is, the news got leaked yesterday."
"How?" Lily wanted to know. "The paper and the broadcast weren't very clear..."
"No one knows," said James, but he had a mischievous kind of grin.
"You know, don't you?" the witch half accused.
"Of course I do. I know everything."
"Well?"
"I'm assuming you understand that this is strictly between the two of us? And... Padfoot and Moony and half a dozen others, but..."
"Right. Secret. Got it."
"Alastor Moody—head of the aurors—found out. He told Professor Dumbledore, Dumbledore owled my dad, and Dad talked to Dorthea Grey at the Prophet, who—for all her faults—knows how to protect a source. Anyway, that's the short version of why all the Potters got ushered away from the West Country prematurely, and also why I'm here."
"No, I don't think you've explained that part yet," said Lily, raising her eyebrows.
"Haven't I?" James finished the toast and got to his feet, twirling his hat around his finger. "Oh, well—being well-connected and, y'know, just generally fantastic, I happen to know that very shortly, a few dozen witches and wizards are going to be standing in front of the Fountain of Magical Brethren in the Ministry of Magic, demanding that Egbert Dearborn and his Voldemort-sympathetic legislation be rejected. And so I repeat..." He grinned: "Do you want to go to a protest?"
Lily pulled her bathrobe a little tighter.
"Just—give me a minute to change."
James shrugged and nodded, and Lily started for her room.
"Oh, make sure you wear something red."
"Of course, they would pick red," the witch lamented, frowning at her similarly colored locks. Lily sighed and entered her bedroom. She left the door open a crack, because she didn't entirely trust James alone in a kitchen full of potentially dangerous muggle appliances, but he soon meandered into the sitting room, where she had left the telly on.
"What's this?" he called, while Lily rifled through her drawers for jeans.
"What's what?"
"On that tell-a-thing of yours! The program!"
Lily located some trousers, pulled them on, and, fastening the buttons at her waist, came out into the hall to see what James was talking about.
"It's just a show," she insisted, starting to return to her room again.
"Who's the ugly bloke with the ridiculous hat?"
"He's Tom Baker, and he's not ugly," Lily called over her shoulder. "I happen to adore him, so don't make fun!"
"His hair is ridiculous," noted James, sitting down on the sofa.
"Your hair is ridiculous!"
"He's old. How could you possibly fancy him?"
Lily stuck her head out of her room again to reply: "I fancy a bloke in a scarf, alright? Now stop bothering me, I'm trying to find something to wear."
It was something of a struggle, as Lily, a consummate redhead, did not own many items of clothing in that shade. Ultimately, she found a plain white t-shirt, which, with a little help from her wand, she charmed a bright, cherry red color.
She emerged five minutes after having entered it, and James jumped up from the couch, replacing his hat upon his head.
"Ready?" he asked cheerfully.
Lily nodded. "I have to lock up, though." She did so by magic. "We can apparate from here."
"That's fine," said James. He drew his wand, but Lily hesitated. "What?"
"I should telephone my mum."
"Why?" asked the other, bewildered.
"In case she phones the house and gets worried," replied the other. She crossed back to the kitchen and picked up the receiver, dialing her sister's number as it was written on the notepad on the counter. "Wouldn't your mum be worried if she didn't know where you were?" Lily added to James, as the line rang.
"She'd be more worried if she knew where I was," James replied. He leaned against the door frame. "Which is why I told her I was hanging around at Sirius's."
Lily's eyes grew wide, but at that moment, a voice on the other end of the line answered, and she was distracted. "Hello?"
"Oh—hello—Petunia?"
"Yes?"
"It's Lily."
No reply.
"Your sister..."
"I know who it is."
"Right. Is Mum there?"
"No—she went to the grocer."
"Oh." Lily, inexplicably embarrassed that James should hear even half of this conversation, made haste to end it. "Could you—tell her I went out with some friends? So, you know, if she calls, and I don't answer..."
The younger sister trailed off, and for a few seconds, the elder made no answer. Finally: "I'll tell her."
"Thank-you."
Petunia hung up. Lily ran a nervous hand through her hair and then did the same. She grabbed her wand, slid it into the expanded back pocket of her jeans, and nodded in a businesslike way to James. "Ministry of Magic, then?"
"Oh—not quite. There's actually somewhere else I wanted to stop first. I was hoping you could help me with the address..."
Lily raised her eyebrows. "Where?"
"Oh-my-God-Marlene!" Lily half shrieked, when Marlene Price opened her front door. "Your hair! It's..."
"Gone," finished James.
"It's beautiful!" Lily went on, while Marlene beamed. Unlike her friend, the blonde was already prepared when her two collectors arrived; she was fully dressed, red shirt included, and a brown satchel bag was slung over one shoulder.
"Thank-you," she replied, pleased. "Hi, James."
"Hi."
"You didn't tell me you cut your hair!" Lily protested.
"I wanted it to be a surprise! Do you really like it?"
"It's beautiful, really! I can't believe..."
"Hey," James interrupted; "Price, your hair is lovely, but do you think we could... y'know... go? Priorities and all that..."
"Right."
"Is MacDonald coming?" James added to Marlene.
"Wait, how did you already hear about this, Mar?" Lily asked.
"Sirius owled me half an hour ago," said the witch, closing her front door behind her. "And Mary can't come. She's working in her parents' shop all day."
Lily looked accusingly at James.
"Hey, talk to Sirius," he defended himself; "I didn't owl anyone."
"Besides," Marlene added, "I'm just across town from Sirius. An owl wouldn't have gotten to you in time anyway." Her tone was brisk and efficient. "Mum's got a guest—we can apparate from the stairwell or the lift, though."
They eventually chose the lift. "Have you both been to the Ministry before?" asked James as they stepped inside. Lily nodded.
"We had lunch with Alice there once last summer, when she was doing her apprenticeship with the auror department," she told him. "But we used the visitors' entrance."
"That'll be fine," said James. The lift doors began to close. "On three, then... one... two..."
"Incidentally, Potter," said Marlene, "What's with the hat?"
A red telephone box on a dingy street constituted the visitors' entrance to the Ministry of Magic, and it was to this place that James, Lily, and Marlene apparated. There was no way that all three of them could fit inside the box at one time, so James suggested that he and Marlene should go through first, and Lily could follow. Marlene raised her eyebrows meaningfully at the idea, but Lily agreed quickly.
"You'll want to dial 6-2-4-4-2," James instructed her. "And when you're asked what your business is, you should say 'Guided Tour.' Ready?" he added to Marlene, and she nodded.
The pair stepped inside the telephone box, and Lily waited, somewhat nervously, outside. With the door closed, she could not hear what was going on inside, but when James dialed the numbers and waited for a minute, the expression on his face told her at once that something had gone wrong. He and Marlene stepped out a moment later.
"What's the matter?"
"They've closed down the visitors' entrance," said James, frowning.
"Do you think the others inside are in trouble?" asked Marlene anxiously.
"I doubt it—but Dearborn must have got word that something was brewing..."
The wizard appeared pensive for a few seconds; he removed and replaced his fedora several times, pacing back and forth. Marlene and Lily waited for him to come to a conclusion, and, at length, he did.
"We'll have to use a fireplace that's connected to the Ministry floo network. Dory said this might happen..."
"Who's Dory?" asked Marlene.
"Dorcas Meadowes. You'll meet her today. She's with us—she's inside now."
"Isn't your house connected?" Lily wanted to know. "For your dad, I mean."
"No, they cut it off a few days ago," replied James. "Technically, you know, he doesn't work there anymore. He was bloody livid, but he's too prideful to do what everyone else does and just bribe someone."
"So..." Marlene hesitated, and then finished: "how are we going to get in?"
James sighed. "Your both sure you still want to go?"
Lily rolled her eyes. "There are three muggleborns in our house for our year alone," she reminded him. "Dearborn wants to allow two a year from here on out..." She trailed off significantly, but Marlene completed the thought for her.
"What if it had been one of us?"
They both looked at James.
"Alright," he said. "We'll have to use Dorcas's floo."
"She works for the Ministry?" asked Lily.
"No, but her sister does. Emmeline. Scary witch, she is, but... well, you'll meet her, too. We'll have to do side-along apparition, as neither of you have ever been to their house. It should be fine, but... oh, hang on—I'd better tell Sirius."
James removed his hat once again, but this time with a purpose. He looked down into it, and Lily was momentarily reminded of muggle magicians who pulled rabbits out of top hats. Muttering something that she could not make out, James reached below the brim, but he did not withdraw a furry white bunny; rather, he took out a familiar looking mirror.
"Expansion charm?" asked Marlene, voicing Lily's thought, and James nodded.
He looked into the glass and said in a clear, determined voice: "Sirius Black."
For a second, nothing happened. Then, a voice did reply, but it was not Sirius's, nor did the face that appeared moments later belong to the Marauder.
"Donna?" said James, confused, and Lily moved around behind him to get a look.
"Yes, it's me," Donna Shacklebolt replied, and there was a bite of frustration in her voice, although they soon learned that it was not directed at James.
"So Padfoot managed to convince Tom to let you off for the day?" James concluded.
"He did, yes," replied Donna. "Hullo, Lily."
"Hey, Don. Where are you?"
But her friend was momentarily distracted by something not reflected in James's mirror. "Look on the mantle," she said impatiently to someone. "Well, you probably missed it!" Donna returned her focus to the mirror. "Black can't find the floo powder at this place..."
"You're already at Dorcas's?" asked James.
"Yes. The visitors' entrance is closed."
"We know," said James. "We just tried it. You might have let us know. Did Sirius get McKinnon?"
"He doesn't come home until tomorrow," said Marlene, at almost the same time that Donna replied: "He hasn't come back from holiday yet."
"Too bad," muttered the Marauder. "If there's no floo powder over the mantle, there might be some in the kitchen."
"Did you hear that, Black? There might be some in the kitchen! I told you...!"
"Why don't you floo from your house, Donna?" Marlene asked. "Aren't you connected for your brother?"
"A brilliant idea," replied Donna sarcastically. "I wish I had thought of it... only, I did, and Black said we... did you find it?" This, presumably, to Sirius. "He found the floo powder. When will you lot be here?"
"In a minute. We just have to apparate over."
"The password is..."
"'Dumbledore,' I know," James interrupted.
"Alright," said Donna. "Well... I suppose I'll see you in a... what?" Again, to Sirius. Donna appeared to listen to something that the Marauder on her end was saying from across the room, but Lily could not make it out. Frowning, Donna turned back to the mirror. "Potter, Black tells me to ask: 'Have you told yet?'"
"Tell him he's a git," said James impatiently. "See you in a few." Shaking the mirror a few times, he placed it under the lining of the hat's interior, and then returned the hat to the top of his head.
"What was that all about?" Lily asked curiously, but James did not seem to hear her. He took Marlene's hand, and instructed that she take Lily's. "On three, then... one, two..."
Lily had never met Dorcas Meadowes, but when James had delivered the password to the front door, admitting the three young people into her foyer, she felt at once that she would like the woman.
It was an old Victorian house, unexpectedly bright and welcoming on the inside. A yellow cat slept on the dark oak staircase, and the walls were littered with magic, moving photographs.
"This way, then," said James, leading them down a corridor and into a large, sitting room. An outdated television box sat in the corner, possibly to lend the illusion that muggles lived here, though the fact that none of the furniture was situated in a way that would allow anyone seated upon it to conveniently view the screen somewhat defeated this purpose. The walls were marigold, the sofas and chairs the color of toffee, and on the low coffee table stood a vase of sunflowers. Lily smiled at them—her favorite flower—until a voice popped into her head... James's half-intoxicated slur: "You look like a sunflower," from the night after Petunia's wedding...
Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, Lily withdrew towards the large fireplace. Sirius and Donna had evidently left the floo powder on the mantle for practical purposes, and, from the china bowl, James took a handful of the ash-like substance. Lily and Marlene did so as well.
"I'll go first," Lily volunteered, but James shook his head.
"I'll go... in case anything goes wrong..."
"You'll be in just as much trouble as I will," the redhead protested, but James had already stepped onto the hearth. Before she could argue anymore, he threw the powder down and called loudly: "The Ministry of Magic!"
In a giant tongue of green smoke, the wizard disappeared. Lily and Marlene exchanged looks.
"Flooing scares me," said the blonde with a shudder. "You're more than welcome to go first."
Lily snorted, but followed James's steps into the high fireplace. She closed her eyes, threw the floo powder, and imitated his address: "Ministry of Magic!"
When she opened her eyes again, cool green flames died around her, and she stepped out onto the polished wood floors of the Ministry of Magic Atrium. James waited for her a few paces away, and Marlene had joined them a minute later.
"Merlin, I hate that," she muttered, stumbling over to the other two.
The Atrium was crowded and loud, but from where they stood, only the tops of the golden statues constituting the Fountain of Magical Brethren could be seen, and Lily at least was anxious to see what was happening there.
"C'mon then," said James, and he led the way through the crowd.
Up until this point, Lily had been unsure of what, exactly, she should expect upon arrival at James's so-called protest. She had seen muggle protests on the news, of course, but if six years in the magical community had taught her anything, it was that witches and wizards often did things slightly differently.
Whatever Lily had been expecting at the word "protest," however, it was not what she found. If she hadn't already known that something was going on, Lily might never have noticed the difference. Witches and wizards appeared via floo network in the various terminals that lined the walkway, hurrying to their destinations without disturbance. Tourists loitered, listening to chatty tour guides as they described various features of the Atrium—the large golden Magical Brethren fountain in the center, plaques that lined the walls, and portraits of donors smirking and waving from their frames high above. The so-called "protest" consisted of about two dozen people in red, sitting on the edge of the Fountain of Magical Brethren—and Lily was already acquainted with about a third of those present.
They didn't seem to be doing much.
"Is it a silent protest?" Lily muttered wryly to James. He merely grinned.
"No. It just hasn't started yet. C'mon: you'll want to meet everyone." But before any introduction could get done, a voice erupted in the noise, calling his name.
"Prongs!"
The three looked about to see Remus pushing his way towards them. He was grinning broadly and also wore both a red shirt and a fedora, identical to James's except in color (brown).
"It's only been an hour, Moony," James pointed out, but Remus rolled his eyes.
"Lily! Hi!" He gave her a quick hug. "Prongs, Peter doesn't know how to get to Dorcas's, and he's not very good at blind apparition with just an address. He wants someone to pick him up, but Sirius doesn't want to, and—Bloody hell, Marlene!"
Remus seemed to just realize that the blonde standing beside James was not a complete stranger, but rather one of his classmates.
"Agrippa's sake, I didn't recognize you! Sorry—that's really rude, but..." Marlene laughed off Remus's stammered apologies, and they exchanged a quick hug, before Remus resumed his rapid-fire speech to James. "Anyway, Padfoot doesn't want to fetch him, so I'm supposed to ask you to..."
"Bloody hell, I don't want to go," argued James irritably. "I've only just arrived!"
"Go tell Padfoot that. He won't listen to me..."
"Fine." James started to leave, but then remembered the two witches he had brought along. "Oi, you want to come along? I can..."
"Is that Sarah McKinnon?" Marlene interrupted, pointing to a pretty, petite witch of about twenty, who was seated on the ledge of the fountain. Under her cherry robes, she wore a shirt that bore, in large green print, the letters: M.F.P. "I think I'll go say 'hi.'"
"I'll go with Marlene," Lily agreed, and James looked a little relieved.
"Great, okay."
And with that, he disappeared with Remus into the crowd. Marlene started towards Sarah McKinnon, Adam's older sister, who had been two years ahead of them at Hogwarts and always rather fond of Marlene. Lily made to follow, but someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned.
Standing there was a vaguely familiar young wizard, wearing a maroon fedora. He was probably in his early to mid-twenties, and not too much taller than Lily, but he was thin and had a long face, which suggested height that was not actually there. He had fair hair, freckles, and wore a shirt identical to Sarah McKinnon's, with the same green lettering of "M.F.P."
"So you're the girl, are you?" the wizard asked, almost accused really, but there was a hint of humor in his blue eyes.
"What girl?" asked Lily, bewildered.
"My cousin's girlfriend of course. You should know that I'm very protective of family."
"I'm not your cousin's girlfriend," Lily replied. "Who's your cousin?"
"If you don't know who my cousin is, how can you possibly know you're not his girlfriend?"
"Because I'm not anyone's girlfriend."
"That's the spirit, Mate."
"No—really. I'm not."
"Oh." The wizard raised his eyebrows. "Well, that doesn't make much sense, does it? Men will always be a mystery to me, I suppose." He shrugged. "But you're the ginger, aren't you?"
"I'm a ginger, but not the only one I imagine. Who are you?"
"I'm Sam of course. Are you Lily?"
"Yes." Something clicked in Lily's brain, and she remembered where she had seen this person before—in the pub, on the Thursday of the Week of Demands. He had been sitting with... "Wait, are you...?"
"Well, I rather assumed you were James's girl," Sam chattered on casually. "You're the one Black always used to tease him about. I suppose you're the ginger but not the girl."
Had she been less distracted, Lily might have blushed. As it was, she found herself rather flustered. "You're James Potter's cousin?"
"Almost. His mum's cousin, really, but it's more or less the same thing. Well, if you're not James's girl, I reckon I can be nice to you after all. Fortunate, really—you seem an awfully good sport." He took off his fedora and bowed slightly. "Sam Dearborn, and—before you ask, yes, I am, unfortunately quite related to the bloke we're supposed to be protesting. Eg's my older brother... always was a pompous git growing up. Kids these days... honestly… well, what are you waiting for?"
Lily was beginning to catch the rhythm of Sam's all-over-the-place way of speaking. "For you to let me get a word in edgewise," she replied, and when he grinned at the reply, she mirrored his expression.
"I mean, oughtn't you to be meeting everyone?" he asked. "I'm supposed to look after you, you know."
"Who says?"
Sam's grin only grew broader. "Who do you think? Lily... Hayes, is it?"
"Not even close. Evans."
"Damn it all. Pleasure to meet you anyway."
Lily took the offered hand.
"Come along then," Sam continued, half turning away from her. "You should meet everyone else. Oi—Dory!"
A short, middle-aged witch in long scarlet robes turned around in response to Sam's call. She had wiry hair, shoulder length and black as ink, except for a strip of snowy white framing her heart shaped face. Everything about her—from her merry brown eyes to her plump figure—was distinctly rounded, and as Lily connected the woman to the house through which she had traveled earlier, she thought they fit quite well.
"Hello dear," said the witch. "Who are you?"
"Lily Evans."
"I'm Dory. Dorcas Meadowes."
"I've just come from your house, actually. I..."
"Oh, have you?" asked Dorcas absently. "The cat didn't bite, did she? Maura's awfully temperamental."
"No, she was sleeping."
"Oh, lovely. Whatever were you in my house for?"
Lily wasn't sure whether or not Dorcas was joking.
"Flooing of course, Dear," Sam piped up. "Never mind Dory, Lily Evans. She's senile."
"I most certainly am not."
"I can't thank you enough," Lily said anyway. "It's a lovely house."
"Well, aren't you nice?" Dory beamed at the younger woman. "You must be the ginger, then."
"Fits the bill, doesn't she?" Sam agreed. "Sorry," he added to Lily; "we're quite rude sometimes. Dory practically raised me, you know, and sometimes we forget that other people can hear us spewing nonsense. Where's Emmeline, Dear? Lily ought to meet Emmeline... show her that all purebloods aren't raving lunatics. There are a few sober-minded individuals amongst... oh, Lily, you don't object to the word, do you?"
"What word?"
"Pureblood."
"Er... not particularly, no."
"Lovely. I once knew a bloke who became extremely ruffled whenever I said the word. I don't mean to knock anyone else. I was a Hufflepuff for a few days once, so..." He trailed off, as though his meaning were obvious, though Lily had no idea what it was. "Oh, there's Em. Em!"
James had described Emmeline as Dorcas's sister, but the two could not have been more different. Lily had not suspected her to be one of their number, actually. Emmeline was considerably taller and younger, about thirty-five, judging by the look of her, with soft brown hair, pulled into a neat, McGonagall-like knot. She was lean and clad in sensible business clothes, and she did not light up as Dorcas had done in response, but raised a thinly manicured eyebrow.
"What is it, Samuel?"
"You ought to meet Lily. She's just arrived," said Sam, very quickly. "James Potter brought her."
"There are too many teenagers here already," said Emmeline, with a hint of anxiety in her voice. "I don't mean it personally," she added, "and we appreciate your presence, but it's too risky as it is, with all of these young people running about..."
"Ignore my sister," said Dory, smiling brightly. "She was born forty."
"I was born practical, Dorcas."
"However you like to say it, Em," teased the older woman. "Anyway, as far as I'm concerned—the more young blood the better. No one believes the elderly."
Sam snorted. "Young at heart, Dear. Let's see—who else had she better meet? Oh, there are Gideon and Fabian Prewett..."
But Lily was already well acquainted with the two lanky redheads that constituted the Prewett twins. They had been a few years older than Lily at Hogwarts—both Gryffindors and members of the Quidditch team (Gid a former beater, Fabian the seeker). They stood some distance away, almost on the other edge of the fountain, and Lily had not spotted them at once. She smiled and waved and probably would have gone over, had she not been approached just then by two more former classmates: Frank and Alice.
"Lily!" Alice practically squealed, throwing her arms around the redhead's neck. She and Frank both wore dark maroon robes, with engraved silver badges pinned to the lapels, reading: A.T. Frank looked much the same as he had in June—the last time Lily had seen the two older students—but Alice's hair was longer and straighter, pulled into a low pony-tail at the moment. Almost immediately following her exclamation, Alice recoiled, eyes wide. "Good Merlin, I sound so girly. I haven't had the opportunity to use that voice since June! Agrippa's sake, Lily, you look wonderful! How are you? How's summer? Have you...?"
"Are you going to let her answer any of those?" asked Sam, and Alice made a face at him.
"Quiet, Dearborn."
"You two know each other?" asked Lily, surprised. "I feel so left out."
"I have a cousin who's a Dearborn," said Alice; "and Sam's brother is one of our trainers... Auror training, that is."
"Your brother...?"
"Oh, not Egbert," said Frank, speaking up. "Doc. Speaking of which—is Doc coming, Sam?"
"Not likely," replied the wizard, rolling his eyes. "He thinks it's all very silly. Of course, Doc tries to stay a-political, even if, deep down, his loyalties are in the right place. Doc and I are the black sheep of the Dearborns..."
"Wait a minute," Lily cut in. "It's not Caradoc Dearborn, is it?"
"Oi, that's right!" Alice remembered. "You know Doc, don't you? He substituted when Professor Black..." she broke off. "Anyway, you know Doc, I suppose."
"Well, there you go," said Sam. "Not so left out, after all."
"When did you arrive, Lily?" asked Frank. "And how did you hear about this?"
"James Potter showed up on my doorstep about half an hour ago," replied Lily. "I'm actually still a little confused about what it is, exactly, that we're doing."
"Nothing right now," replied Alice. "We're waiting for the Wizengamot to come out of counsel."
"Why?"
"Well, since Potter Senior retired before his usual term," Frank explained, "they have to vote in his replacement."
"The vote isn't until tomorrow," said Sam. "But all the same, we think it would be much more effective to be marching at a time when the entire Wizengamot isn't locked in a secluded dungeon."
"Marching?"
"Merlin, James didn't tell you much, did he?" asked Alice.
"Come to think of it," Lily admitted, "he was a bit brief." (Short, really. Was he angry with her?).
"We're walking the Atrium," said Sam. "It's very historical, you know. Wizards protesting for muggleborn rights did it in 1845, and in 1963, there..."
"She doesn't want a history lesson," interrupted a new voice behind Lily, and she turned, smiling, as she recognized the voice.
"Sirius."
"Lily," he replied. He was wearing a cardinal red shirt—which suited him quite well—and a sleek, silver fedora.
"You know," she said, as James and Remus came up beside their friend, "I think the fedora works for you."
"You've got to be kidding me..." grumbled James, and Sirius smirked.
"So, who's getting Peter?" Lily asked.
Remus rolled his eyes. "We all are. These two couldn't agree on who ought to go."
"When are the other A.T.s coming, Frank?" asked James.
"Auror Trainees," Alice explained to Lily's inquisitive look.
"Ten minutes. All of them except Dawlish."
"All of the auror trainees oppose my git brother?" asked Sam, surprised. "Not that I object—it's just surprising."
"Not really," said Alice. "The A.T.s do a lot of work in the auror department, and that's a part of D.M.L.E. No one there seems to like him much, which is why it was such a shock that he was named to be given the job permanently."
"Probably bribed someone," said Sam dryly.
"He is a git," agreed Frank. "No offense, Sam, but he can't even remember his own secretary's name. Speaking of which, I believe Reese will be joining us."
"How is it that all the A.T.s can get out?" Lily asked. "I mean, don't you have training?"
"It's furlough week for us," said Frank. "There's one every couple of months."
Donna and Marlene joined the group, as did Sarah McKinnon, who immediately stood beside Sam, draping an arm around his shoulders. "Elphias says fifteen minutes," she told him and the others. "And Miss Shacklebolt says her brother won't be joining us."
"He's on a mission," Donna elaborated. "Anyway, it's just as well..." This last part she uttered rather quietly, however, went unnoticed by nearly all.
"I suppose it's better that way, anyway," said Frank. "The A.T.s are on furlough, but the aurors certainly aren't, and they're actually doing a job that needs to be done, regardless of who the head of the department is."
"Besides," agreed Alice, "we've already got Emmeline Vance—she's from D.M.L.E."
"Alright, then," said James. "I suppose we ought to get going."
"Right," said Sirius. He turned to Lily. "When I get back, you had better march with me, Evans. There are some things we had better discuss."
"What things?"
"Come on, Sirius," said Remus loudly.
Sirius winked at Lily, and the three Marauders turned and disappeared in the crowd amongst the floo networks.
"What is that all about?" Alice asked, and Lily only shook her head.
"Search me. The lot of them have been acting awfully mysterious..."
(Opposition)
The three Marauders peered around the corner of the alleyway into which they had just apparated. No one seemed to be about, and so James stepped boldly out.
"You haven't told Lily, yet, then," said Sirius, folding his arms as he and Remus closely followed their friend.
"Haven't told her what?" asked James forcibly.
"Either thing," said Remus. "I'm assuming you haven't mentioned the Head Boy badge yet either?"
"It hasn't come up," defended the other. "We've been a little busy, in case you haven't noticed."
"She would like to know about that, considering that she's Head Girl," said Remus. "And she owled me last week... before I knew you got it, terrified that Snape would get it."
"Why would that 'terrify' her?" James wanted to know, as they crossed a road. They were still a few blocks away from Peter's.
"I don't know," said Remus. "But she thinks it might be Snape, because she's already discounted the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw prefects for our year, so you really ought to put her mind at ease."
"Oh who the bloody hell cares?" grumbled Sirius. "What about the other thing?"
"Yes, what about that?" Remus also wanted to know.
James rolled his eyes, quickening his pace so that he walked a little ahead of the others. "I don't understand why you two are so fixated on my telling Lily about Carlotta. It's not as though I have any obligation..."
"Maybe not an official obligation," protested Remus. "But everyone knows that you and Lily have a... history."
"No, Lily and I do not have a history. I have a history, but Lily and I do not, as was made abundantly clear the other night..."
"You almost snogged!" Sirius argued.
"Almost! But we didn't, which seems to be the important detail that you're ignoring."
"It still seems like mixed signals to me."
James scoffed. "There are a lot of things about which Lily could justifiably lecture me, but mixed signals are not among them."
"Okay, hold up, Prongs," said Sirius, grabbing his mate's arm and pulling him to a stop, facing the other two Marauders in the middle of the pavement. "The fact is, you brought Lily to the Ministry today... that has to mean something."
"No it doesn't —Carlotta's in Italy. I couldn't possibly have reached her..."
"But of all the people in the world," Remus went on, "you fetched Lily Evans."
"It's not like that! I told you: Carlotta and I are actually going to have a go at a relationship, and I'm not going to..."
"No, no, no," interrupted Remus. "That's not it."
"We just want to know why Carlotta and why now?" Sirius asked. "Is it because she's really fit and kind of slutty?"
"Padfoot, shut up." James started to walk again, but Remus and Sirius deterred him.
"Hang on, Padfoot didn't mean anything by it!" Remus insisted. "He just meant... I mean, now that Lily is actually warming up to you..."
"You jump into bed with Carlotta?" Sirius finished. "It doesn't make sense. I would say 'it's not like you,' except it's exactly like you to go and do something stupid when Lily starts warming up to you. Under normal circumstances, I would say, 'go ahead! Carlotta is unreasonably good-looking, and it's nice work if you can get it.' But now?"
James groaned. "Why do you care?" he demanded. "Honestly, why on Earth does this bother you at all?"
Sirius scowled. "You want to know why we care?"
"Yes."
"You really want to know?"
"Yes!"
"Moony, tell him why we care."
Remus folded his arms, shaking his head in what must have been unspeakable annoyance. "We care," he said, "because for six years, we have sat through rants, and complaints, and hours upon hours of brainstorming sessions while you concocted truly awful ways to ask that girl out..."
"We have listened to things," said Sirius, "that no man with... anything going on downstairs should ever have to listen to! Half the time, you were just talking to yourself! 'WHY is Lily Evans mates with Snivellus? WHY does she think I'm the devil's illegitimate son? WHY didn't she agree to date me when I bewitched her dinner to ask her out? WHY did I think it was a good idea to bewitch her dinner to ask her out?"
"And all of that was always followed by—not that I really care," Remus picked up, and Sirius rolled his eyes. "But of course you bloody cared! You sodding stalked the girl for six years! You stopped hexing people... you quit smoking..."
"I did not quit smoking for Lily Ev..."
"Yeah fucking right," Remus interrupted, and both of his friends were taken aback by the use of profanity from their mild-mannered cohort. "You'd have jumped off the Astronomy Tower to impress her! In fact, I'm glad you didn't think of that, because if it had occurred to you, you probably would have done it! And then your ghost would have haunted us, wandering the corridors, moaning about how Lily Evans wasn't impressed when you committed suicide for her!"
"Are you two done?" asked James, vexed.
"Done?" echoed Sirius. "Prongs, this is just the bristles on the broomstick. I would wager that... seventy-two percent of your waking thoughts since you started Hogwarts have been about Lily Evans! And I don't even want to think about your non-waking thoughts, because, frankly, that's gross."
"Okay, maybe two years ago," James interrupted; "But that was two years ago. Times change, and..."
"And you're an idiot," said Remus. "Two years ago, Lily Evans couldn't stand to be in the same room as you! This morning, you show up on her doorstep and she pretty much blindly follows you to the Ministry of Magic!"
"To say nothing of the fact that you almost snogged!" Sirius added. "I cannot be the only one who remembers that!"
"Operative word being 'almost!'"
"Operative word being 'you're an idiot!'"
"That's three words, Padfoot."
"Semantics! The point is..."
"What is the point?"
"You want to know the point?"
"Yes!"
"You want to know what the point is?"
"YES!"
"Tell him the point, Moony."
"This point is—all of that... all the whining, all the scheming, all the not smelling like tobacco, all the angst-ing..."
"I did not angst..."
"ALL OF THE ANGST-ING will have been for NOTHING, because you, Prongs, are going to quit? You never quit on anything—remember second year, when you wanted to try out for Quidditch, but Declan was captain and he said all the positions were full, but you pestered him for days and days to hold tryouts, and then he did, and then you made the team..."
"Edging out a fifth year, incidentally," Sirius noted. "That wasn't pretty."
"But you never quit at anything before you've gotten the results you want," Remus went on. "Not on the animagi or the Marauders' Map, or least of all Lily Evans. So on some level, Sirius and I don't care..."
"You don't?"
"We don't?"
"No. Obviously, Carlotta Meloni is..." He trailed off.
"Fit," allowed Sirius.
"Really, really good-looking," agreed Remus. "And it's not that we're opposed to you having a girlfriend..."
"Eh. I'm a little opposed."
"But, c'mon—after all this time, all this effort, all of those rejections, now that you're finally... making progress with Lily, you just want to give up?" At some point, Remus's argument had turned into a sincere question. He waited with a certain earnestness for James to answer. James's reply, however, was somewhat unexpected.
"Do you hear yourselves?" he asked. "Honestly—you're describing me for the last six years, and I sound like an idiot... I sound insane! Apparently, I would have been willing to jump off the Astronomy Tower? And for a girl that couldn't even 'stand to be in the same room as me?'"
"That's not what I..."
"But it's true. And I'm not 'making progress' with Lily. She is... she's is never going to feel that way about me. If the other night taught me anything, it's that. And—I don't feel great about that, but don't I have the right to at least try to? Lily is..." He searched for the words, "She makes me kind of crazy, in case you haven't noticed, and I know that you have. Carlotta—I like Carlotta. She doesn't make me crazy; I can just—enjoy being with her. She's... fun. I deserve that at least..."
"But..."
"But nothing, Padfoot! If I'm giving up on Lily, it doesn't mean that all of the effort that went into trying to get her to fancy me was a load of dung... it just means that, maybe the goal wasn't what I thought it was. Because... because I've pretty much done all I can do as far as making myself good enough for her, and she just wants to be friends, so... so—I have to deal with that and move on."
"But what about 'the quaffle and the snitch?'" Sirius asked, in a last ditch effort. "Don't chase the quaffle if you see the..."
"First of all," James cut him off, "don't quote my mother to me. Second of all, Sirius—I'm a chaser. Maybe I'm not supposed to catch the snitch... because, y'know, the quaffle is just fine. There is nothing wrong with the quaffle. You throw it around; it doesn't try to hide from you..."
"Are you planning on throwing Carlotta around?"
"It's a metaphor, damn it."
"Alright, fine," said Remus firmly. "Prongs, the thing that really matters here is that you're completely over Lily. So are you?"
James sighed. This bloody hot weather was getting to him. "Yes," he said at length. "Really," he added, to Sirius's skeptical look. "Can we go get Peter now?"
And, turning, he headed down the block.
"Yeah fucking right," mumbled Sirius, as they followed.
"Maybe he's telling the truth," reasoned Remus. "After all, he did tell Sam to keep an eye on her, and the Prongs of years gone by wouldn't trust any bloke around Lily."
Sirius snorted. "Yeah, but it's Sam."
"So?"
His friend looked at the young werewolf, confused. "Sam, Moony."
"I know. So?"
"Sam. Sam Dearborn."
"I know who he is! What are you talking about?"
"You honestly don't know?" Sirius asked incredulously.
"Don't know what?"
"Lily's... not exactly Sam's... type."
Remus rolled his eyes. "Lily is a good-looking, intelligent, funny, and talented girl. What exactly about her isn't any bloke's—much less Sam's—'type?'"
And then Sirius began to laugh. "The last item on that list, Moony. Merlin, and you're supposed to be the brainy one! Oi—Prongs, guess what...!" He jogged ahead to catch up with James.
Remus kicked a pebble down the pavement. "Why does no one ever tell me anything?"
(Zeitgeist)
Lily's estimation of two dozen "protesters" ("marchers," as Sam called them) turned out to be false. By the time they started walking, there were about fifty witches and wizards involved, half of whom arrived either after Lily or—like Emmeline—Lily had not guessed to be part of the anti-Dearborn cause. Still, the majority wore some shade of red.
An elderly wizard in a mustard yellow trilby approached the group with which Lily stood just before—now including Donna, Marlene, Frank, Alice, Sam, Sarah McKinnon, and Gideon and Fabian Prewett—and was introduced as Elphias Doge. Doge informed them of the route—the length of the atrium hall, back towards the fountain, and around it—and warned them all to stick close together and not draw their wands unless absolutely necessary.
"We'll walk for about an hour," he told them. "Show that we have no use in Egbert Dearborn or his 'Population Protection.'"
With that, Doge departed to fill in another group of the plan.
As it turned out, Doge's estimation of the day turned out to be all but entirely wrong.
But more on that later.
"He made it sound so dull," observed Sam. He linked arms with Lily. "Walk with me, Evans? You can protect me. I'm a bloody coward you know."
"Fine, but only if you tell me what those hats are about..."
"They're about looking marvelous," Sam replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. People seemed to be forming some broad sort of queue, into which Lily and Sam sidled up, while Lily reached over with her free arm and snatched the fedora off Sam's head. "You must be bloody mad," Sam accused idly. "Wearing maroon with that hair of yours."
"I think it's rather fetching," Lily joked, though she rather assumed that the hat, combined with her hair, combined with her shirt must have been a truly horrendous sight.
"Oh, yes, terribly," agreed Sam sarcastically.
The Marauders had not returned yet, when the fifty of them began to march, and Lily might have been worried, if she hadn't been far too distracted with how awkward it was at first. News reports never said how awkward this sort of thing really felt.
A lot of the other people in the Atrium were staring at them. Some watched with a vague curiosity, reading the words that Elphias Doge had conjured in glittering red letters over their heads, "Get Dearborn Out of the Ministry, Keep Him Out of Hogwarts." ("A bit of a mouthful, that," noted Sam, rolling his eyes. "Poor Doge—he ought to have picked something catchier, like... "Down with Dearborn!" And Lily didn't even bother pointing out the humor in Sam's exclamation). A minority of outsiders sent the marchers encouraging looks, but most seemed to view the event as a passing oddity and not much more.
However, the first significant boost to Lily's morale arrived in the form of nearly twenty Auror Trainees, who joined the group before they had gone once around the Atrium. The new A.T.s wore maroon robes, identical to Frank and Alice's uniform, and, by increasing the number of walkers almost by half, brightened the mood considerably. They were also responsible for raising a chant of "Dump Dearborn!", which Sam took up almost immediately, and Lily could not help but smile a bit at his enthusiasm.
Eventually, he took a break from his chanting—though the others, including (rather to Lily's surprise) Donna and Marlene, continued on—and turned to Lily long enough to ask: "What's it like... Hogwarts?" He had been watching the words overhead, too, and was apparently taken captive by the last one.
Lily raised her eyebrows. "It's... brilliant. Didn't you ever go?"
"I went," said Sam. "Got sorted into Hufflepuff, though, and as far as Mum was concerned, that practically made me a squib. So, she decided enough was enough and brought me home."
"Oh..."
"It was years ago," Sam went on, grinning. "I reckon I've moved on. But all the same, I wonder how it must be to... to always be around people one's own age."
"You were taught at home, then?" asked Lily curiously, and Sam nodded. "Well... it's brilliant. I wish I could say it wasn't, but... everything there is—fantastic. Always new."
"The castle's hundreds of years old, you know..."
"Mmm, but it's—it's always changing. You never know what to expect. And there's always something to do, and something to find out, and... I don't know. There are... twice as many things about the world to find out as there were before I knew that I was... y'know—a witch." Lily bit her lip, trying to find a downside. Unable to think of any, exactly, she tried a different tactic: "But you grew up in a pureblood house, so—I reckon you've got all that there."
"Maybe," said Sam evasively.
Lily frowned. "Anyway, that's why I'm here."
"Oh?" Her companion brightened a little, amusement in his blue eyes. "I thought you were here for my cousin."
"Oh, because I'm a girl," said Lily sarcastically, "and my only concern is boys."
"No, because my cousin is positively dishy..."
Lily laughed. "Well, I'm not here heeling it after James," she said. "I just think anyone who can should be allowed to go to Hogwarts. Don't you?"
Sam did not reply. Instead, he stole back his hat. "Sorry, Ginger, but it really isn't your color."
For the next twenty minutes or so, marching was uneventful. The chant of "Dump Dearborn!" was born and died every so often, and, though the Atrium grew stiller as the morning went on, the marchers were no less enthusiastic. Lily alternately joined in the chants and talked with those around her—Marlene, Donna, Sam, of course, and Frank and Alice—and, at one point, had a quick discussion with a wizard that she didn't know who had asked her if she had colored her hair specially for that event.
(The Marauders had still not returned.)
It was almost ten thirty before anything really interesting happened.
It began with a burst of green flame in one of the fireplaces, and two wizards emerged from it, wearing shirts like Sam's and Sarah McKinnon's, marked with the green "M.F.P."
"Is that Elisha and Garrett Jordan?" Sam asked of no one in particular. "But that doesn't make sense... they were supposed to be in Cartagena..."
Sarah McKinnon had joined Sam in less then a minute. "Whatever are Elisha and Garrett doing here?"
"And what's with the shirts?" Marlene wanted to know, glancing at Sam's and Sarah's matching articles of clothing.
"M.F.P," Sarah replied, distracted. "Magic for Peace. We're members."
"Aren't those the witches and wizards that were getting knocked off in July?" Donna asked in an undertone of Lily, and the redhead nodded. The newcomers who had inspired such surprise in their club-mates soon found Sam and Sarah, and they were beaming.
"What are you doing here?" Sarah asked. "Aren't you meant to be in Columbia?"
"Caught a few portkeys back twenty minutes ago," said one of the wizards. "Tilly flooed us."
"Tilly?" echoed Sam. "Tilly's involved?"
The wizard nodded, and both he and his companion (brother, Lily would later find out) looked strangely excited. "Wait till you see. It's all Potter's doing."
"Grace's doing?" asked Sarah. "What do you mean?"
But before the wizard could reply, six fireplaces beside which the crowd now marched flared up—not an altogether unusual occurrence, of course, except that Elisha and Garrett were suddenly very keen to see who had arrived. Two witches and a wizard wearing M.F.P. shirts were among the six; a wizard whom Lily thought might have been Benjy Fenwick (the Hufflepuff prefect for their year), and Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were the other three.
"Peter! Remus!" Lily hailed at once, and as the two Marauders fell into the crowd, they moved towards her. But the show was far from over, as the floo terminals continued to light up with more and more witches and wizards, some wearing "M.F.P." shirts and red robes, and some not. Sirius was in the next batch, and he joined his friends, looking quite pleased with himself.
Emmeline Vance could be seen questioning a tiny wizard who had just arrived in cardinal red robes, and Lily turned to the Marauders.
"What's going on?"
All of the marchers had stopped to watch now, and many of the dozens of Ministry workers moving through the Atrium paused in their own work as well.
"It was James's idea," Sirius replied to Lily's question (four more wizards joined the crowd—one actually carrying a banner that read "Dump Dearborn!"), "we stopped by the Potters', and..." But he broke off, waving to someone who had just appeared by floo—James, himself, actually.
Lily had long ago been forced to reconcile herself with the fact that James Potter was a good-looking bloke, and, being as they were something of enemies at the time, she had done it reluctantly. But in all her years of acquaintance with him, Lily did not think she had ever thought James quite as handsome as he looked now. He was grinning, and something about him suddenly seemed to contain a certain energy...
"Half of M.F.P. is here," marveled Sarah. "Only Tilly could have contacted everyone so quickly..."
"Someone needs to explain what is going on right now," Donna insisted, folding her arms. "Because my head is beginning to hurt."
"That's not a pretty sight," Marlene agreed.
James took of his hat, apparently for the sole purpose of running a hand through his hair, before replacing the fedora upon his head. "Sirius and Lupin and I went to fetch Peter," he began, speaking very quickly. "And once we'd collected him, I realized that I'd forgotten... a... well, I'd forgotten something at home that I rather thought I should have with me, just in case I should need it for anything."
Lily looked at Sirius, who leaned close and whispered, "The cloak."
"So we decided to go back to my house to pick it up," James went on. "And when we got there, Mum was having a meeting with Tilda Figg. Tilly's the head of M.F.P., and she and my mum were chatting over what their next move was going to be with this Dearborn business... so I risked my mum turning into a raving lunatic and locking me in a cupboard for the next eleven and a half years, and decided to spill about this little tête-à-tête."
"She didn't know about it?" asked Sarah, surprised. "I thought Tilly knew everything."
"Well, she knew about it naturally," replied James. "They talked about it for about a minute on the wireless, but she didn't reckon it to be very much of a big deal... which, let's face it, it wasn't."
"So Tilly," Sirius resumed, "said she could double the numbers in about half an hour, because, as the president of M.F.P., she had ways to get in touch with all of 'em."
"Don't forget about the other part," said Peter cheerfully; "The Daily Prophet and the witch from the WWN..."
"Right," said James. "After Mum got done hollering at me for lying to her about visiting Sirius, she, naturally, forbade me from coming back to the Ministry..."
"Which lasted about a minute," said Remus dryly; "because James talked his way out of it, like a git..."
"Sod off, I was brilliant," insisted James. "And I asked Mum how one would go about tipping off someone who might care at The Daily Prophet that a few hundred witches and wizards from all over the country would be marching at the Ministry of Magic in protest of Egbert Dearborn."
"And Mrs. Potter agreed to tip off a few people she might know at The Daily Prophet and some witch who does a broadcast on the WWN..." finished Remus.
"But I don't understand—these people aren't all M.F.P.," said Sam, frowning. "Who are all the others?"
"That's the best part," said Remus. "They all owled friends or family or whatever. We were over at Dorcas's for only, maybe, fifteen minutes, and almost hundred people showed up to floo from there..."
"It must have looked funny to the neighbors," added Peter. "All those people going in, like she was having a party or something."
"And there's more coming, too," said James. "Morty Fenwick is M.F.P. and his wife works in Goblin Liaison, so they let people use their floo-connected house... Curly's around here somewhere, actually..."
"His name is Benjy," Remus reminded him, shaking his head.
"Right. Benjy. Whatever."
In half an hour (they had now walked the Atrium twice) seventy was one hundred fifty, then around two hundred fifty before the hour was up. Roughly half of those who arrived (and more continued to floo in) wore M.F.P. shirts under their red robes. Lily recognized dozens of the newcomers as former Hogwarts students, but there were also a great number of significantly older witches and wizards that Lily didn't know. Emmeline Vance was almost smiling.
A redheaded wizard joined in the march beside Sam, whom he apparently knew. He struck up a conversation, at one pointing turning to Lily and asking, quite politely: "Excuse me—are you a Weasley?"
"No..." she responded uncertainly, and the wizard laughed.
"Terribly sorry," he apologized good-naturedly. "I only asked on account of the hair, you know." He indicated to his own flaming locks. "I'm Arthur."
"She's one of James Potter's friends," said Sam.
"I see!" said Arthur. "Are you the ginger then?"
"I wish someone would tell me what that means," grumbled Lily, as Sam laughed.
"She's muggleborn, Arthur," he said, and these seemed to be magic words, as Arthur at once began to bombard Lily with questions—all enthusiastically and courteously asked—about muggles.
The walk ended later than predicted, around noon, as the Atrium filled once again with Ministry workers on their way to the floo terminal for luncheon. The marchers themselves now gathered around the Fountain of Magical Brethren again, made distinct from the others by their robes. Lily didn't want it to end, and this sentiment must have been shared, as a middle-aged gentleman (possibly in his forties or fifties, but it was always difficult to tell with witches and wizards) stepped up on the ledge of the fountain and began to speak.
"That's Victor Vance," explained Sirius to Lily. "Emmeline's husband. You met Emmeline, didn't you?"
Lily said that she had and then took a moment to listen to Victor.
"Some of you here," he began, and his voice was gentle but firm, "are very young. And..." he smiled, "some of you here would say that I am very young. If you belong to the either category, however, you can probably remember very clearly when the earliest disappearances at the hands of Voldemort began." A chill—pardon the cliché—seemed to run through the entire hall. Vance had not magically magnified his voice, but it echoed in the Atrium when he spoke, and those who were there strictly professionally—now including half a dozen, busily scribbling reporters—seemed to have stopped to listen.
"The first ones," Vance went on, "seemed random and unconnected. And then there were murders—some high profile, some that were barely reported..." Lily looked over at Donna, whose face was fixed in a stony gaze upon Vance. Her hands shook almost imperceptibly. "And Voldemort took credit for those, and we all knew. And we've known for a long time that some have agreed with him and what he does, but I think we—we hoped that there were enough who knew better. And we hoped that the Ministry... that those charged with our protection knew better. Some at the Ministry have, and some have stood idly by, but I don't think that any have ever so actively supported Voldemort's agenda in law."
At first, Lily wasn't aware of clapping, and then she was. She was not alone either; the other marchers joined in at the same moment, and for nearly a minute, the clattering of applause filled the hall. Another chorus of "Dump Dearborn!" was begun, and Lily did not feel silly joining in... partially because the nearby Sirius was practically singing it.
He noticed her laughing at him and waved her over to where he stood, at the edge of the crowd, furthest from the fountain. There were very few people between them and the regular Ministry workers, many more of whom took note of the increased numbers, and a greater percentage of which now seemed to watch with less than pleased expressions.
"What was so important that you said you needed to discuss with me earlier?" she asked, half joking,
Sirius sobered slightly. "All sorts of things," he covered unconvincingly. "I haven't seen you in weeks, Love. Isn't there anything you'd like to discuss with me?"
"Not really."
"Well, thanks."
"Well I wrote you twice," Lily defended herself. "Oi—I got Head Girl! Or did I tell you already?"
"Moony told me." Sirius sighed dramatically, as the crowd around them roared. Victor Vance descended from the fountain ledge, to be replaced by Dorcas Meadowes. "I suppose you'll be bouncing around handing out detentions and deducting points from me, now."
"I don't intend to bounce, no," replied Lily. "Otherwise, that sounds fairly accurate."
Sirius smirked.
"There's something you're not telling me," Lily accused, watching him carefully. "What is it?"
"Well, Love, there are a lot of things I'm not about to tell you now. We're in the Ministry of Magic. Don't want to get arrested, do I?"
Lily protested, but before she could get very much of her complaint out, another voice rang out—not Dorcas's, and much louder than any other in the hall, so that even amidst the dull roar of chatter, this shout was clear and startling.
"Mudbloods!" a wizard shrieked, and since Lily stood in the back, she had but to turn to see the man. He was tall and dark haired, with a goatee and grey eyes, and there was a slight flush in his pale face as he shouted: "Mudbloods and blood traitors the lot of you! But you'll get what you deserve!"
Almost in one movement, Sirius pushed Lily back further into the crowd, away from the wizard, and reached for his own wand. James seemed to appear out of nowhere, and at first Lily thought he was going to draw too, but he did not. He said Sirius's nickname in a hushed tone, as the angry pureblood continued to shout at the group, and Lily—still stumbling from Sirius's push—managed to get to Sirius and grab his wand-bearing fist.
"All of you! The times are changing, and all of this goddamn mudblood waste is going to end!" A slightly shorter wizard, about the same age (fifty or so), stood at his side, nodding his approbation smugly.
Remus arrived a split second later; he grabbed Sirius's opposite shoulder, but, Lily realized, he wasn't restraining it. It was almost a reassuring gesture.
"Let go of me," muttered Sirius.
"Give me your wand," countered James, and his friend handed over the wand without question. Lily was reluctant to let go, because she feared Sirius would do something reckless to the shouting wizard, but Remus, who had stepped back already, sent her an imploring look, and she released the Marauder's hand.
Sirius stepped forward, detaching himself from the crowd—nearly all of whom were watching the shouting wizard (Lily was certainly not the only witch who had been moved inside by an overenthusiastically protective wizard).
"Don't you think you had better get home?" said Sirius loudly, and the older wizard's eyes flickered towards the younger. Surprise, then anger, then malice all flared up on his face in sequence. "I'm surprised she let you out of the house at all. You must have been very well behaved..." And despite the mocking nature of his words, he spoke in an even, unfeeling voice.
Lily suddenly realized who this wizard must be.
"You," the man almost whispered. "I should have known."
"Perhaps..." began the smug, shorter wizard, quietly, "we should not waste anymore time."
The other wizard ignored his companion. He stepped closer to Sirius. "How's your eye?" he asked softly, and if Lily had not been standing just behind her housemate, she would not have heard. "All healed?"
Sirius's fist clenched; Remus and James exchanged looks. "Leave," said Sirius quietly. "Now."
And then, another voice interrupted the exchange. Dorcas spoke from the front of the crowd, and all that she said was this: "Horatio Meadowes, 1972." Practically everyone turned to look at her, except Sirius and the wizard, who were lost in their own world. Dorcas continued: "Philip Stoake, 1976. Abel Diggory, 1976..." Her voice trembled.
"Jonah McKinnon, 1972," Sarah McKinnon spoke up forcefully.
"Ellis Smith, 1975," said a witch's voice, but she stood far away, and Lily could not see her.
"Hawthorne Longbottom, 1974," said Frank.
"Marquis and Christine Shacklebolt," said Marlene, and Donna looked at her, surprised. "1974."
"Cary Young, 1976," said one of the Daily Prophet reporters.
"Ava Lescano, 1976," said someone Lily didn't know, and more followed. She turned to Sirius again.
"Come along, Cygnus," said the dark wizard, who had not broken eye contact with Sirius. "We wouldn't want to get dirt on our robes."
"Josiah Johnson, 1975."
"Yes, go along, Uncle Cygnus," muttered Sirius spitefully. "Someone might see him consorting with his son."
"Rainier Prewett, 1976."
"Faye Weasley, 1972."
"You are not my son," spat the wizard. Then, with a swish of his black cloak, he turned and walked hastily towards the floo terminals, followed closely by Cygnus. Sirius turned and rejoined his friends.
"Augustus Pepper, 1973..."
Sirius did not make eye contact with any of his friends, until, after a minute, Lily looped her arm through his. "Well at least now I've met the family," she quipped, and Sirius chuckled bitterly. He mussed her hair with his free hand.
"Miguel LaMonica, 1973."
"Avery Crouch, 1974."
"Nari David, 1976."
"So, James, you're from a wizarding family. How would you say that this announcement from Dearborn affects you?"
Watching James Potter reply to the questions posed by the Daily Prophet's reporter—a pretty, dark woman, whose quill rapidly took down everything—was like watching a different person. No, Lily amended in her mind almost immediately: it was like watching a different incarnation of the same old James Potter. It was like watching him talk about Quidditch or the Marauders... only more so. He seemed so utterly passionate—whether conveying enthusiasm for the number of people who had decided to protest or anger at the actual announcement. The golds and greens and blues of his eyes became more pronounced, the inflection of his voice more powerful. If Lily had found herself disagreeing with anything he said, she would have been petrified at the prospect of debating him now (although, she couldn't deny that the idea was mysteriously exhilarating as well).
"Well," James answered to the witch, "first of all, this does affect me. That should be established. This affects every witch and wizard. It's an—an awful affront to the entire magical community—on top of all the ethical issues of denying the right to carry a wand, it's extremely dangerous to limit magic society like this. And, second of all, even if it didn't directly affect me... even if some of my best mates weren't half-blooded and muggleborn... it's just a matter of right and wrong. I would never feel comfortable with myself or the wizarding community knowing that this kind of thing went on. I mean—we're not perfect as it is... but Dearborn and his 'Population Protection' routine is just—it's just going further backwards."
"Now, there haven't been many demonstrations like this for the last few years," the reporter went on. "The death eaters seem to intimidate people from showing. Why is this different?"
"Well, I think everyone here today hates the death eater movement—I mean, no question—but we're not here protesting that. This is the Ministry of Magic... this is the group that's supposed to be working for us..."
James went on to answer the question, and Lily couldn't help but smile as he did so. His gestures, expressions, and words were just so James—it was fascinating to see them in this unusual context. He was enjoying himself; that much was evident, though the situation was anything but cheerful. Even when furious (and he did nothing to hide his anger at the words 'death eaters' or the name which he so unflinchingly uttered: "Voldemort"), he seemed to relish the situation.
Lily was reflecting on this fact when the reporter posed a new question: "How do you think the muggleborns out here are feeling today?"
"Oh, I'm sure they're a hell of a lot angrier than I am," said James folding his arms. "But I'm the wrong person to ask." He nodded towards his companion. "Lily's a muggleborn."
Lily froze, as the reporter took interest in her for the first time since their hasty introduction five minutes prior, when the two of them—Lily and James—had been asked to give a few words. "'Lily,' was it? Excellent. So, how are you feeling?"
"Um..." She looked at James, who nodded encouragingly, a sly, crooked grin on his face. Riled (or possibly motivated), Lily locked eyes with the reporter. "Scared," she said. "Really, terrified, actually. I was—um—made aware of the fact that I'm a witch before my Hogwarts letter was delivered. I found out when I was about nine. I, um, I could fly off swings without hurting myself, and I could make flowers bloom... I blew a door of its hinges, once... just, uh, things like that. If I had never received my Hogwarts letter... never been admitted into this world, what would I have done? Would my uncontrolled magic get stronger... what would I have done with that part of me? So, I'm afraid for all of the brilliant witches and wizards who are threatened by this development. I'm also afraid for the magical world—like James said—because that's my world, too. I'm afraid that we have a government that would cave to the demands of a murderer and his followers. But, I mean, at the same time, I'm optimistic... because there are so many people here—muggleborn, pureblood, whatever—and they're not too afraid to be here, even though it's... well, frankly, it's dangerous."
Out of the corner of her eye, Lily could see James watching her—the mischievous expression gone and replaced by something unreadable with only peripheral vision.
"What do you have to say about the rumor going around that the aurors are going to come and strip the protestors of their wands while they're on Ministry property?"
"Well, it's incredibly illegal, for one thing. We have clearly demonstrated that we're here non-violently. We haven't destroyed anything, and the Atrium is supposed to be open to the public."
"I don't think they'll do it," added James confidently. "It would leave hundreds witches and wizards defenseless in the Ministry of Magic—that's like an open invite for death eaters, and the Ministry doesn't want them showing up anymore than we do."
"Exactly."
The witch nodded slowly, checking something on her scroll of parchment. "And what do you feel is the general response towards them...?"
There were about five of "them" just then, witches and wizards who stopped in the hall to shout and jeer at the marchers. The witches and wizards themselves changed, but there had been a steady stream of them since Sirius's father and uncle had left hours before.
"Sticks and stones," muttered Lily.
"At least they're not hexing," agreed James.
"Exactly. Honestly, this whole thing was only supposed to last two hours... I think it was the people shouting at us, calling us 'mudbloods' and 'blood traitors' that made anyone want to stay longer."
"Exactly," said James again.
The reporter suddenly smiled. "How long have you two been together, then?" she asked more casually.
"All day," said James. "We came down around, what? Nine? About seven hours, then?"
Lily blushed. "No, James, she meant..."
"Oh. Oh! No. We're not..."
"We're not," agreed Lily. "We're just..."
"Mates," finished James. "Just friends. Comrades, at the moment. But not... y'know... anything like that."
"Not even close," added Lily. James looked at her.
"Well, gee thanks."
"I just meant..."
"I know what you meant."
The Prophet reporter nodded, but she had a slight, knowing smile on her face. "So, since this law—if approved—won't take effect until next fall, what kind of effect do you, as students, anticipate for the immediate term?"
They finished up the interview ten minutes later. Sirius could be seen speaking to a wizard from the WWN, and he seemed to have regained his spirits. Remus and Peter stood with Marlene, Donna, Frank, and Alice, and as Lily and James returned to the chanting multitude near the fountain, James grinned at her. "You were good back there, y'know."
"You weren't so bad either," allowed Lily, smirking. "I think you're enjoying this."
"What? Bureaucratic injustice? Oh, yeah, I'm a huge fan..."
Lily shook her head. "Battling bureaucratic injustice," she elaborated. "I think you like doing something."
"Well, don't you? Anyway, you know better than anyone that I like a good fight."
"I know. I'm surprised you haven't punched anyone yet."
"Well, the afternoon is young."
"James..."
"Don't worry, Snaps. I won't hit anyone. I'm not an idiot."
"Hmmm, debatable."
"Git."
At that point, the two were separated in the bustle of the crowd—cheering for the latest wizard to stand up on the fountain ledge and speak. Lily found herself in the company of Sam Dearborn, whose applause and loud approbations were more enthusiastic than anyone else's. "You're not embarrassed to be seen with me, are ya, Kid?" teased Sam after letting out a great wolf-whistle in response to some anti-death eater statement.
"Humiliated, actually."
"Oh, very funny." Sam removed his fedora and folded up the flap as James had done earlier. "Hungry, Kid?"
It wasn't until Sam said it that Lily realized that she was, in fact, famished. She hadn't eaten since the toast that morning, and when Sam handed her two biscuits wrapped in plastic, Lily had never seen anything so wonderful in her life.
Five o'clock was the end of the natural working day, although the Ministry never emptied altogether, and a large number of salary employees stayed well after—aurors included. But that was the funny thing about today: there didn't seem to be any aurors. Lily would admit that she did not know many aurors by name, but she did know quite a few by sight (including those who had been stationed at Hogwarts for security over the last year), in addition to the handful that she actually knew (Kingsley Shacklebolt and Lathe, for instance), and all day, though she had seen a great number of Ministry employees pass through the Atrium, she had not seen a single recognizable auror. Indeed, she had not even noticed a witch or wizard wearing the cloaks and badges typical of that department.
And that was odd. She thought, perhaps, that the auror department used a special floo terminal on their own level.
It was almost five o'clock when Egbert Dearborn sent out his assistant. The assistant was a tall, thin fellow, whose physical characteristics and mannerisms both bore a striking resemblance to a grasshopper's. Lily pitied him, because the poor wizard did not seem to want to be there very much at all.
One of the A.T.s, a muggleborn, had just finished speaking from the ledge of the fountain about her own experiences at Hogwarts, and when she stepped down, the assistant's magically magnified voice could be heard, though his position on the opposite end of the fountain made him initially invisible.
"Ladies and g-g-g-gentlemen..." croaked the man, and Lily hastened through the crowd towards the fountain itself. She, like many others, climbed up onto the ledge to get a better look at the wizard addressing them. "You must all be qu-qu-quite tired by now, and the head of the D-D-D-Department of Magical Law Enforcement..." There were resounding jeers—Lily did not join, because she wanted to hear what else was to be said—and the wizard wiped sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, "...The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement requests that you d-depart at... at once."
"Oh, Eg requests, does he?" Lily could hear Sam whispering derisively.
"If you do not," the wizard went on, "Mr. Dearborn would like you to know that he will b-b-be forced to take action against a-a-any participants d-d-d-disturbing the p-p-peace."
Sam, who stood quite close to Lily, excused himself and proceeded to walk around the ledge of the fountain to the side directly in front of the assistant. It was a difficult process, as dozens of others stood on the ledge for a better view as well, but he made it fairly quickly, and addressed the wizard in a sardonic tone.
"Now, Caleb, hadn't you better get home? My brother doesn't have you running personal errands after hours again, does he?" He stood out like a lone flame amongst the red embers of the other marchers.
"It's not yet five o'clock," retorted the assistant named Caleb with dignity.
"But he does, doesn't he?" said Sam with a smirk.
"Samuel, get down from there," Emmeline Vance muttered, pushing through the crowd towards him. "You are not to let yourself get riled..."
"One moment, Em. Caleb, you are much better than this. I think we both know that whoever replaces my brother will be a vastly superior boss, too." Caleb said nothing. He adjusted his round-lens spectacles. "So, I hope you will convey my best wishes to dear old Eg, and tell him his little brother isn't leaving until he does."
"Samuel."
Sam hopped down from the fountain, and the wizard called Caleb was very shortly gone.
Tilda Figg, an elderly witch with frizzy brown hair, who had been introduced earlier as the head of M.F.P., approached them as well, and her expression towards Sam was maternally disciplinarian. He accepted his mild scolding cheerfully, for, as an M.F.P. he was meant not to retort in such a context.
Lily climbed down from the ledge and wandered away, finding Marlene and Donna not far off.
"You don't suppose that they could really... arrest us or something, do you?" asked Donna, and though her tone was decidedly curious, there was a hint of something else in her facial expression.
"No idea," said Marlene, strangely unbothered by the idea. Lily raised her eyebrows at her friend. "There are hundreds of us, including a Potter, a Dearborn, a Black, a Longbottom... they're not going to put everyone in prison."
"Right," agreed Donna. "Of course." She seemed slightly reassured.
"What?" inquired Marlene. "Nervous, Shacklebolt?"
"You know perfectly well this isn't my thing," snapped Donna, folding her arms. "Involvement, and all that. I'm a live and let live type."
"Live and let die, more likely," retorted Marlene, and Donna scowled. Lily thought she understood Donna's attitude a little better, but was none the happier about it and, simultaneously, none the more willing to argue it.
"New topic," she suggested. "Isn't... er... Remus looking lovely today?'
Donna only rolled her eyes, and Marlene shrugged off the debate. However, shortly thereafter, another A.T. who had begun to talk atop the fountain ledge began a new chorus of "Dump Dearborn!" and Donna kept a keen eye on the rapidly filling Atrium. More and more Ministry workers filed through the Atrium, as they had done at lunch hour but in greater amounts, and there was an increased number of those who shouted the derogatory slang like that of Black Senior earlier.
And then, at exactly five o'clock, a new stream of Ministry employees entered the Atrium. They came through the corridor that led to the lifts, and wore uniform charcoal grey robes. There were about two dozen, universally male, and they did not head for the floo terminals. Nor did they meander, but walked—marched, really—in an orderly fashion. Some stopped at the side of the fountain (several paces from the perimeter of the red-robed protesters) nearest the lifts, and others continued around, but every few paces, another wizard stopped and turned, facing the fountain with a fixed, determined expression on his face.
"Hit wizards," Lily heard someone whisper, and she momentarily left Donna and Marlene to find Alice for confirmation.
"Yes, they're hit-wizards," said Alice, as they grey-robed wizards continued their surrounding of their red-clad guests.
Donna had followed Lily to their A.T. friend, and she did not look pleased. "We are going to be arrested," she muttered resentfully. "This will not look good on my record."
"Calm down, no one's getting arrested," insisted Alice. "Hit-wizards are supposed to catch criminals."
"Which, if we stay past closing hour, could include us," Donna pointed out.
"Yes," allowed the A.T., "but hit-wizards aren't supposed to make arrests of Ministry employees in the Ministry; that's an auror's job. It's a silly bylaw we had to memorize in our first week of training."
"Then why are they here?" Lily wondered. "And why wouldn't they send aurors?"
"'Can't, I reckon," said Alice, but she did not elaborate, as they were joined by Frank Longbottom and Victor Vance.
"Are you certain?" Vance was asking of Frank, who had a solemn expression as he nodded.
"Yes," said the younger wizard. "It's best if I do it."
"If you do what?" his girlfriend demanded, but Frank only shook his head, in an "I'll tell you later," sort of way.
Emmeline joined her husband, and she was still accompanied by Tilly Figg and Sam, as well as Elphias Doge and his mustard yellow trilby.
Like bees on honey, the Marauders and the Prewett twins also converged in their little circle to hear what the "higher ups" had to say. "Did you see...?" Sirius began to ask of Lily, and she nodded, glancing at the hit-wizards again. She cast an eye about for Marlene, lest anything be said that the blonde should hear, but her friend was now some distance away, in anxious council with Sarah McKinnon. Roughly half of the crowd continued on the chant, but everyone in Lily's circle was distracted.
"What are they waiting for?" Sirius muttered to no one in particular.
"For the hall to empty," Alice realized.
"Are we leaving?" Donna wanted to know. They all looked at Emmeline, Dorcas, Elphias, and Tilly, who formed a row that ran parallel to the hit wizards. Emmeline's steely eyes betrayed real emotion for the first time that day, and Lily thought it might have been fear. The expression was gone almost as soon as it had arrived, however, and Dorcas spoke: "Not now, I'm not."
"Me neither," said Sam at once.
"But they'll arrest you," argued Donna.
"No they won't," said Gideon Prewett. "They're waiting for it to quiet down. That gives us plenty of time to... protect ourselves."
"You're going to fight them? That's idiotic..."
"We don't have to fight them," muttered Fabian thoughtfully. "If we could just..."
"Oi!" Lily brightened. "We could do it muggle style and chain ourselves to something!" They looked at her. "Clearly, none of you are as enthused about that idea as I am."
"Wait a minute," Gideon said, "that might not be such a bad idea... I mean, not chaining, per se... hang on a minute, I'm going to have a word with Sarah... she'll be able to help. C'mon, Fabian..."
"The younger ones had better go home," said Emmeline, once the Prewetts had gone. James and Sirius at once began to argue, but she shook her head. "You're children."
"We're of age!" snapped Sirius.
"You're still students," Emmeline replied, coolly and calmly. "I know you imagine it's the right choice for you now, but you will be taking N.E.W.T.s this year—embarking on your careers next year... breaking the law does not look pleasant on your record."
"You lot have as much to lose as we have," retorted James. "Frank and Alice have more."
"Alastor Moody isn't going to kick us out of the auror program," said Alice confidently. "There's a reason they sent hit-wizards instead of aurors, and I'd bet you anything Alastor Moody is behind it. And if someone intercedes and makes him sack us, then that's a risk I'm willing to take."
"And I don't care about my sodding record!" James continued. "They can snap my wand in half for all I care!"
"You are not being rational," said Emmeline. "You feel this way now, but you cannot judge based on emotion."
"Well I am being rational," Lily spoke up loudly. "If this thing goes through, it's only a matter of time before they snap my wand anyway. Isn't that right?"
Emmeline met Lily's eye and was quiet for some time. "Miss Evans, there is something else to be considered on your part. You're muggleborn. We..." She indicated to the gathered group of Dorcas, Frank, Alice, Sam, and the Marauders, "are from large, influential families. I am sorry, but it's the truth. Potter, Meadowes, Black, Dearborn, Longbottom, Griffiths... these names mean something in England."
"What are you saying?" Lily asked.
"We're untouchable," sighed James.
"Not quite," Alice added. "But we're a fair sight safer from the Ministry than you are."
"I don't care," snapped Lily. "I'm staying."
"So am I," said James.
"Me, too," said Sirius.
"Me, too," said Remus and Peter.
"Boys, Lily, think," pleaded Dorcas. "You have your parents to answer to as well..."
"I don't," Sirius interjected.
"Nor do I," agreed James. "I'm of age, and they haven't been able to control me since I was four."
"If then," allowed Remus. "And I'm staying, too."
"I reckon Mum would be proud," agreed Peter.
"You can't force us to leave," Lily told them. "And you shouldn't want us to, either. A lot of the others have... have families and jobs to think about, and they can't or won't want to stay. You'll want numbers, and we're going to stay even if they lock us up in Azkaban for it."
"You've never met a dementor, Lily," said Frank darkly. "Or this wouldn't be so easy a choice."
"They're not going to lock us up in Azkaban," said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "The most we'd get is a fine for... I don't know, disturbing the peace."
The older group exchanged looks. Clearly not pleased by this development, Emmeline sighed nonetheless. "Fine. But you're answering to your mother, James. If she comes around my house looking for someone to hold accountable because her only son is in prison..."
"I'll tell her it was Sam," replied James, beginning to grin.
Lily's heart beat quickened in anticipation of what was about to happen. She was not stupid—she knew it was risky and probably a bad idea, but leaving now... it would be backing down. Emmeline was right: they had to stay.
Gideon and Fabian rejoined the group a few minutes later and the twins set out on an explanation of the plan.
"Gid, Sarah, and I could set up a net," Fabian began, as the others gathered closer. "Not a normal net of course; it's a magic net. It allows you to be bonded—invisibly, of course—to a specific location or object."
"We were thinking the fountain, here," Gideon picked up. "Fitting, yeah? Magical Brethren and all that."
"And, of course, it will be better than a proper net," said Fabian. "You won't be stuck in one place. You can move around, within a certain area around the fountain."
"And anyone can add themselves or remove themselves from the net whenever they want, so long as they have the password," said Gideon.
"But no one can take anyone else out of the net, unless that person says the password, too," finished Fabian. "Got it?"
"What's the password?" asked Peter.
"We'll get back to you on that one," said Fabian. "As soon as we've come up with one, that is."
A meaningful smile grew on Dorcas Meadowes' lips. "How about 'Phoenix?'" she suggested softly; the joviality that Lily had till now seen constantly in Dory's eyes had gone, but a hint of the mischief remained. Suddenly, it occurred to Lily that Dorcas was not an average, middle aged witch. Several of the others—the Prewett brothers, Frank, Alice, Elphias, Victor, and Emmeline—seemed to understand the significance of this word Dory had uttered, but Lily did not, and a glance at each of the Marauders told her that they did not know either.
"We can do that," said Gideon. "So, do we all agree?"
They did.
"Are the kids saying?" Fabian asked; he meant Lily, Donna, and the Marauders.
"It appears so," said Emmeline stiffly.
"Figures," said Gideon, smirking. "Marlene Price heard the idea when we were over with Sarah, and she refused to leave too."
"And what is this 'kids' business?" James demanded. "You two are, what? Barely twenty?"
"Let's not have a tantrum, James," teased Sam, and Sirius snorted. James glared at him.
"What?"
"You know very well what, Git."
"Prat."
"Hippogriff."
"Kneazle."
"Well that's not very nice."
"Boys," Lily interrupted, effectively calling them to heel.
"Who else is staying?" asked Remus practically. "Lily's right—not everyone will be able to."
"I can spread the word to the others," Sam volunteered.
"But only those that you can absolutely trust," said Emmeline strictly. "And no reporters." She made the provision with a significant look at a group of said journalists who were interviewing some Ministry wizards not wearing red. Sam promised and departed towards a few M.F.P. members, and others in the circle dispersed, Gideon and Fabian subtly drawing their wands and setting about with the preparations.
Minutes passed, and at some point the Marauders departed, too; Lily stood with Donna watching the un-moving hit-wizards. The number of Ministry wizards departing work for the day continued to grow, but Lily guessed that soon it would shrink, and she was not looking forward to it. She folded her arms, observing the scene tensely.
One wizard in particular caught her eye. He wore cerulean robes and stood just behind the hit-wizards, a short, aged man with a quill and a scroll, upon which he scribbled rapidly, as though his life depended upon it. Lily had not seen him amongst the other reporters, and he seemed curiously fixated upon his task.
Presently, Gideon Prewett returned to the spot near the fountain. "The net's set up," he said, replacing his wand in his pocket. "Anyone who wants to leave had better do it now, while it's still busy. I reckon the hit-wizards might get a little testy about anyone leaving once the crowd thins. If you want to add yourself to the bond, want it, hold your wand, and say the password." He looked a little nervous as he bid them goodbye and departed again to relay the message to someone else.
Lily nodded. She felt about for her wand in her back pocket, but did not draw it immediately.
"I have to leave," said Donna suddenly, and Lily turned to her friend. "Kingsley's on a mission, and if he's going to be gone all night, I can't just leave Mrs. Fowler with the kids."
She was referring to her brothers and sister at home, and Lily almost understood. Nonetheless, Donna looked a little—guilty, really, and her friend thought she understood that feeling too.
"They'll be alright, Donna. You..."
"I have to go," Donna repeated firmly, and her hands were shaking again, as they had been when Vance spoke. "It's—it's not just Brice and Isaiah and Bridget... I have..." She hesitated, "this isn't my... thing. I'm not like you, Lily—I don't... I don't like getting mixed up in things."
"Don, it's fine..."
"I'm..." But Donna, on principle, did not apologize, so when she broke off, Lily nodded.
"It's fine," she repeated. "You should go now, before things settle down again..."
Donna frowned and slowly peeled off her red cloak, so that her remaining outfit consisted of a blouse and jeans that she had worn to work that morning.
"I'll... see you soon, Lily?"
"Right. See you soon."
And she left, slipping in with the rest of the crowd.
"You should go, too," said James, and Lily started at the unexpected sound of his voice. He stood behind her, where, apparently he had been for long enough to get the gist of her conversation with Donna.
Lily looked at him sternly. "I'll leave when everyone else leaves."
"Evans..."
But she had already drawn her wand. James's was in hand, too, as were many of the others', but they all seemed to be waiting for something. Lily saw no need to wait any longer, and so, before James could protest further, she closed her eyes, gripping her wand tightly in her fist, and whispered the word:
"Phoenix."
"It's not safe," said James.
"Then why did you invite me here at all?" Lily snapped, opening her eyes. "Honestly, you've been behaving so strangely, and Sirius keeps dropping these hints, like... whatever. And half the time you're ignoring me, and..."
"Well, I'm sorry if I'm a little distracted by the war going on around us..."
"Sod off, Potter, that has nothing to do with it. I know it. You've been behaving oddly because..."
She was prevented from finishing the sentence by the arrival of Fabian Prewett. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, raising his eyebrows, as Lily recoiled, folding her arms. "But you can add yourselves any time."
"Gid told us. I already have," said Lily, a bit curtly, because she was still annoyed with James. "How do we know if it worked?"
"It worked," Fabian replied. He smirked, pointing at Lily's wrist, where a bracelet of sorts had appeared: it was a single gold band, not much thicker than thread, but Lily marveled that she had not noticed it at once. Fabian turned to James, as Sirius, Remus, and Peter came to join their friend. They did not wear the gold bracelets yet, either.
"Ready, then?" asked Fabian, knuckles white around his wand.
"Always am," muttered Sirius. They all held their wands at their sides, stiff-armed, and in unison uttered the word that would bond them to the fountain.
"Phoenix."
Gold bands appeared in a flash around their wrists, and Fabian smiled. There was, however, a trace of doubt in his eyes.
"Good. It worked."
"We'll be fine," said Sirius confidently. "'Sides, Fabian. You always did like to make a statement."
"As did you, Black," retorted the older wizard, rolling his eyes. He seemed marginally more confident, however. "I'm going to find Gid. See you lot in a bit, I suppose."
When the Marauders and Lily were alone, Sirius addressed the witch: "Shacklebolt left, did she?"
Lily nodded. "Had to get home to her brothers and sister."
"Right."
And nothing else was said on the topic. Lily had not forgotten her argument with James, but the same did not appear to be true of him. He suggested they all have a seat on the fountain ledge, and Lily reasoned that the debate would better be saved for another time. So, she walked with the Marauders towards the fountain ledge, where they all sat down. Sam Dearborn joined them very shortly, gold band around his wrist, and he was followed by Sarah McKinnon and Marlene, both of whom had bracelets of their own.
Benjy Fenwick ended up staying as well, as, of course, did the Prewett brothers, Emmeline Vance and her sister and husband, Tilda Figg, Elphias Doge, a handful of others that Lily had only met today, and many that she did not know at all.
Presently Frank and Alice came towards where Lily and the others sat, and they seemed to be arguing.
"Will one of you talk some sense into him?" snapped Alice, who was wearing a gold band. Frank was not.
"You're not staying?" asked Lily, surprised.
"Of course I'm staying," said Frank in an undertone. "But I've... there's something I have to do first."
"He's going into the auror offices to speak to Moody," Alice explained unhappily. "Victor Vance wants him to deliver a message, but..."
"Is Moody up there?" asked Lily. "I haven't seen a single auror all day."
"There aren't many about today," muttered Frank. "I think Moody has cleared the department in case Dearborn ordered them against us. He might be operating from somewhere else."
"Aren't the hit-wizards under this bloke's orders, too?" Peter asked.
"Yes, but they're not allowed to arrest anyone in the Ministry of Magic," said Alice for a second time. "Only in extreme cases are they allowed to do so; otherwise that's the aurors job. That's why they're waiting for everyone to leave..."
"What are you supposed to tell Moody?" Marlene wanted to know.
"I'm not supposed to say," muttered Frank.
"You shouldn't go," snapped Alice. "If someone knows you were with us..."
"A.T.s are technically Ministry employees, and it has to be an employee..."
"Vance can send his wife then. Or I'll go. I don't want you going."
"I've already agreed, Al. C'mon..." Frank was half pleading. "I'll be fifteen minutes, and if I'm not back, you can send in the troops."
"What troops?"
"I don't know. The Marauders?" He grinned at the four wizards, but Alice did not seem amused.
"Francis Longbottom, you had better make damn certain that you're back in fifteen minutes."
"Promise."
"Good."
She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Love you."
"Love you, too." Frank glanced at Lily. "Keep an eye on her?"
"I always do."
"As do I," quipped Sirius.
"Not funny, Black."
"My apologies."
Alice rolled her eyes and sat down beside Marlene on the fountain ledge. Frank gave her a last smile and walked away from the group, towards and then past the hit-wizards. He reached the golden gate that stood between himself and the offices. Frank nodded to the security wizard, his A.T. badge visible, and Lily understood why it had to be a Ministry employee to complete Vance's task: they had to get through security.
At first, as Frank stepped through the golden gate, he seemed to be the only one going in that direction, but he had not yet disappeared before another wizard also took that route. Lily did not see his face, but he was tall and had a long grey pony-tail.
"Oh no," muttered Alice anxiously; she had craned to see her boyfriend depart and was now frowning.
"What?" asked Marlene.
"That bloke who followed him..."
"Is it a hit-wizard?" said Remus, and Alice shook her head.
"No, but Caradoc said he was one of Egbert Dearborn's cronies... what's his name? Script or Salt or something like that. I'd better tell Victor..."
"We'll tell him," said Sirius, rising. "Moony, c'mon. Lily...?"
Lily understood the implicit request and nodded, as she now fully comprehended Frank's request to keep on eye on Alice. He meant that she should not follow him into the offices. Sirius and Remus went to find Vance, and Peter followed, but James stayed behind.
More time and marchers slipped by, the red-robed numbers steadily diminishing. Soon, about a hundred remained, and, in the large Atrium, it seemed a very small number. Most sat on the ledge of the Fountain of Magical Brethren, some stood, and the hit-wizards in grey remained. Lily watched them watch her.
There was a bit of trouble with Emmeline before much time had passed; one of the reporters, a blonde with red lips and a mischievous smile, seemed to have crept in with those staying behind, and Emmeline was not pleased. She stormed by Lily, muttering to herself, but there did not seem to be much left to say on the matter, for the reporter had learned the secret of the net and on her wrist was the same gold band that was on Lily's and all the others'.
Frank did not return. Alice grew more anxious and began to pace.
"They... they wouldn't hurt him?" asked Lily as tactfully as possible, when Alice resumed a seat beside her on the fountain ledge.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I mean... legally, they can't. But if they're off book..." She looked at James, who was still with them. "I've known you for a long time, and if there's anyone I could trust to have an idea on what to do in a situation like this... well—Sirius is too rash and Remus is too sensible..."
"You mean, if there's anyone who can bend the rules for you," said James. He nodded. "You think we could get to him? Would you know where to go?"
"Wait, what?" demanded Lily; she sat between the two and looked at each. "Think this through..."
"I think I might know where to go," said Alice.
"But how would you get anywhere without them seeing you?" Lily demanded in an undertone, nodding towards the hit-wizards.
James tapped his fedora. "I've got the Invisibility Cloak."
"But how to get under it?"
"Right," agreed James. He leaned over to see Alice better. She was watching him with such a combination of desperation and trust that Lily knew at once that James would not be able to resist.
"You don't even know Frank's in trouble," she pointed out anyway. "He could have stopped for a chat with someone and been delayed."
"It's been half an hour," said Alice. "And it takes maybe five minutes to get to the auror department."
"Maybe he couldn't find Moody."
"Then he would come back," whispered Alice fiercely. "The truth is, if that Salt or Skit or... Merlin, what is his name? Svilt. That's it. Anyway, if he questions Frank... Frank knows who leaked the Population Protection Act to The Daily Prophet. Of course he wouldn't tell, but if they have Veritaserum..."
"But why would he question Frank to begin with?"
"He must've seen Frank with us. He followed him into the corridor!"
"But we don't know..." Still, Lily knew it was a losing battle.
While Lily and Alice argued out the causes, James worked out the details, until at last he said: "The problem is how to get under the cloak." He glanced about. "I'll need Sirius."
Sirius sat with Remus, Peter, and Sam halfway on the other side of the fountain. The Marauder was called over, and, so as to avoid the watchful eye of the hit-wizards (or Emmeline Vance, for that matter), the two of them sat surreptitiously down again.
"We need a distraction," said James. Sirius brightened. "Nothing illegal." Sirius faltered. "Preferably one that doesn't require magic."
Sirius arched an eyebrow. "What are you thinking, Prongs?"
"I don't know. Twelve Punches?"
"In this atmosphere? Someone would get hurt. What about White Rabbit?"
"Moony thinks that's unethical."
"Moony thinks everything's unethical," said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "What about a Fool's Chorus?"
James considered it. "That might work."
"I'm not doing it by myself."
"Get Moony and Wormtail. Wormtail looks like he could use a pick-me-up anyway." And, indeed, the Marauder did appear rather nervous, as he sat along the fountain, with very few others between himself and the hit wizards.
"Gideon and Fabian and Sam would probably help, too."
"But don't tell them why."
"I don't know why."
"Right." James leaned over, pretending to fix his shoelaces. Sirius followed him subtly. "We're going to get Frank."
Sirius sat up at once and looked at Alice. "Are you sure?"
"James could hardly find him on his own," she pointed out. "And I'm at the top of the A.T. class."
"I'm not doubting your ability, but..."
"It's Frank," Alice interrupted stiffly. "Of course I'm sure."
Nonetheless, Sirius did not look pleased. "You'll use the cloak, Prongs?"
"Of course."
"I'm going too," Lily stated suddenly.
"No," chorused James and Sirius. She glared at them.
"I'm better mates with Frank than either of you."
"Irrelevant," said James. "It's dangerous, sneaking about the Ministry building enough with just two."
"I flattened a handful of Slytherins before you'd even drawn," Lily reminded him. She appealed to Alice for support, but Alice seemed less than confident, too.
"I don't want you getting hurt or in trouble for my boyfriend, Lily..."
"And I don't trust either of you to behave," she insisted. "Alice, you're worked up, and James is..." She looked at him. "James."
"Thanks."
"It's a good thing and a bad thing."
"It's a good thing?"
"Well, I mean..."
"If you two are finished," interrupted Sirius, and James kicked him.
"Fine," said Alice at last. "Lily can come." James looked disbelievingly at her, but Alice set her jaw, and there was a definitive nature in her tone that made it a settled point.
Sirius relented next, though not happily. "I'll talk to Moony and the others," he said, getting up. "I'd better make up some excuse..."
"This is mad," James muttered, once Sirius had gone, but he too seemed to have given in.
"Don't you trust me?" asked Lily, rolling her eyes.
"Trust is not the issue," James replied.
Lily had no idea what a "Fool's Chorus" was anymore than she knew what "Twelve Punches" or the Remus-condemned "White Rabbit" might mean. Indeed, it was well after six before she found out.
The hit-wizards had not moved.
Sirius returned and handed James something that looked like a pocket knife, which James proceeded to place in his expanded hat. All of this was done while Lily and Alice stood in front of the pair as a shield, talking nonchalantly; it didn't matter much, though. The hit-wizards did not appear to be terribly occupied with keeping too close an eye on their charges, and Lily once again questioned the reason for their presence there at all.
"The hall is usually completely clear by seven-thirty or eight," said Alice. "They want to intimidate us into leaving, I'd bet. Then they can say that hit-wizards evicted us, without actually having to get their hands dirty."
Lily still thought it was strange about the aurors, but kept it to herself, because Alice seemed distressed enough. The Ministry personnel filtering through steadily decreased in count, and as there were fewer people around them, Alice became less comfortable.
"What are we waiting for, James?"
"The right time," he replied enigmatically.
The short wizard in cerulean robes whom Lily had spotted earlier, writing on his parchment, continued jotting down something, reminding her of the witch who had interviewed James and her earlier. But this wizard was different; he kept glancing up and then down at his parchment, but he showed little emotion towards whatever he wrote. He had also walked the perimeter of the ring formed by the hit-wizards several times now, not watching where he was going in the slightest.
Suddenly, Lily realized why.
"James," she whispered, and he looked at her. "We have to get that notebook."
She nodded at the wizard in blue.
"Why?"
"He's taking names."
"How do you know?"
"Look at the way he watches people. He's trying to identify as many as possible."
James followed her stare. "So? We don't care if the Ministry knows who we are."
"He's not wearing a Ministry badge."
And she was right. Alice got up at once, moving towards Emmeline Vance, presumably to relay the message.
"Em will take care of it," said James. "We have to focus on Frank."
"That's right," agreed Sirius, as Sam, Gideon, Fabian, and the other Marauders moved over to their space along the fountain wall. "Focus on not getting yourselves arrested. Ready?" This last word was spoken to Remus, Sam, and the others. They nodded. "Fantastic. Then, let's sit down." And they did.
Remus and Peter sat beside Sirius, but Gideon, Fabian, and Sam moved to other parts of the now thinner red-robed group. For a while, nothing happened. Elphias Doge tottered forward and made a short speech, and then Dory Meadowes rose and reread the verbiage of the so-called Population Protection Act, followed by a list of the muggleborns that had been killed by death eaters. The blond Daily Prophet witch about whom Emmeline had been so furious (whose name, someone said, was Rita) continued to interview just about anyone, her red-painted lips smiling all the while.
Lily's stomach was in a knot, and she felt very aware of all of her own movements. The number of working witches and wizards in the Atrium continued to slowly dwindle.
Then, at about a quarter past six o'clock, there was a quiet spell. Dorcas sat down, and for a minute, no one took her place.
At last, Alice asked the question in a whisper to herself that she had now disregarded several times when posed by Lily: "Where are the aurors?"
Besides a vague murmur and the clicking of heels across the polished wooden floor, the Atrium was eerily still.
Then, suddenly, a loud, clear voice quite near to Lily rang out. For a split second, she thought someone else had gotten up to speak. It was Sirius, however, and he was neither standing nor speaking.
He was...
Bloody hell, he was singing.
"As I went home on Monday night, as drunk as drunk can be... I saw a broom outside my door, where my old broom should be... Well, I called to my wife and said to her, would you kindly tell to me... who owns that broom outside the door, where my old broom should be? Aye..."
A drinking song, no less.
A few people laughed—Dorcas Meadowes among them—and then Remus and Peter and Sam joined in for the rest of the verse.
"You're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool, still you cannot see... that's a lovely tree that me mother sent to me..."
Lily looked at James. "Am I dreaming?"
"I don't think so, no."
"A drinking song about adultery? 'Fool's Chorus?'" she asked, but he had already joined in for the second verse, as had Gideon and Fabian on their side of the fountain.
"And as I went home on Tuesday night as drunk as drunk could be...I saw a cloak behind the door where my old cloak should be..."
Quite unexpectedly, not only Victor but Emmeline Vance joined in the next few lines, and they were accompanied by half a dozen others, including one ruddy faced and laughing hit wizard.
"Well, I called to me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me, who owns that cloak behind the door where my old cloak should be?"
A few more started up the next chorus:
"Aye, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool, still you cannot see, that's a woolen shawl that me mother gave to me..."
The blond reporter seemed to have forgotten about her interviews; she watched the singers—now including roughly two-thirds of the crowd. It was as though half a dozen little bombs had gone off throughout the group, except the radial fall out was not debris and fire, but additional voices to possibly the most inane song that Lily had ever heard herself sing aloud.
"As I went home on Wednesday night, as drunk as drunk could be... I saw a golden cup, where my old cup should be... I called to my wife and I said to her: will you kindly tell to me, who owns the cup behind the door where my old cup should be? Aye, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool, still you can not see? That's a golden snitch that me mother sent to me... Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more, but firewhiskey in a golden snitch, sure I never saw before..."
By the fifth drunken night, everyone from Elphias Doge to Sarah McKinnon was on his or her feet, as though chanting a national anthem rather than a pub ballad.
All but one hit-wizard laughed (two had joined in); the hold out was stony-faced and watchful, but one of his cohorts teased him loudly for taking himself too seriously and he blushed. The little wizard in blue stopped his scribbling to watch the scene, disbelief etched on his face.
Louder than the rest, Sirius (and his voice wasn't bad) took off his silver fedora, placed it over his heart in typically dramatic Sirius fashion, and led the last verse. The final choruses were sung even louder, so that the entire hall echoed with the mixed, often off-key voices, and so that no one but Sirius and a few others noted that three of their number had disappeared.
Luckily, Lily and Alice were both comparatively small: Lily could not help but wonder how more than one Marauder moved with any speed under this cloak. As it was, after Lily, Alice, and James had released themselves from the "Phoenix" net, moving across the hall was tricky.
"Told you," whispered James to Lily, but he didn't seem genuinely annoyed that she had come along anymore. They reached the gates to the lifts, as the last few notes of "Seven Drunken Nights" rang out.
The slower trickle of witches and wizards from within the inner layers of the Ministry made it unexpectedly easy to get into the corridor where they would catch the lifts. They retreated to a corner of the hall, where no one else might overhear them.
"D.M.L.E. is level two," said James in a whisper, and conversation under this cloak had to be the most awkward thing in the world. "You said Svilt was one of Dearborn's cronies, right? So he'll be there?"
"That's what I was thinking," said Alice. "And Falstaff has an office there."
"Who's Falstaff?" the wizard asked.
"He's a friend of Dearborn's and the head of one of the hit-wizard divisions."
"You reckon they would take Frank there?"
"If they didn't properly arrest him, then yes."
Catching an unoccupied lift was no easy task, and even when it was accomplished, there was the constant fear that someone would notice an empty lift riding down.
"Aren't there any stairs?" asked Lily nervously, as they passed the sixth level and moved down to the fifth.
"On the third floor," said Alice. "We'll be able to get down to D.M.L.E. from there."
There was a witch waiting for the lift on the third floor, but she was utterly distracted by a thick stack of parchment that she read through as she stepped inside, that she did not notice the sound of footsteps as the two invisible witches and one invisible wizard slipped past.
"Bloody hell," sighed Alice. "This way."
She led the way past several offices—including Obliviator Headquarters and Accidental Magical Reversal Squad—until they reached the end of the corridor, where a small door was labeled simply, "Stairs."
With a glance about to make sure that no one was around, Alice opened the door through the cloak, and, once on the landing, Lily closed it again behind them. In the solitude of the stairwell, James pulled off the cloak, and they descended the staircase in haste.
"I know it might be a little late to ask this question," Lily asked as they hurried downward. "But what exactly is the plan if we do find Frank?"
"They can't legally hold him without reason," said Alice, who was further down than either Lily or James. "And with James's cloak, hopefully they won't be able to prove it was us that got him. Right, so what are they going to do? Arrest Frank when he comes in to training for resisting an illegal interrogation? Not likely, because they'll want it all squeaky clean, with Dearborn under all this scrutiny and such."
They reached the door labeled with the number "2."
"This is it," said Alice.
James held up the cloak again, and both witches stepped under it. They entered the corridor as quietly as possible, and Alice was charged with finding Falstaff's office. That was tricky, in and of itself, as D.M.L.E. was the largest department in the Ministry, and its physical location was similarly massive.
"I've passed it a dozen times," Alice grumbled to herself. Lily gripped her wand a little tighter.
They tried a series of different passages that yielded no results, until, finally, one off-shooting corridor caught Alice's eye.
"That's it. It's down here. There was paperwork in the Wizengamot Administration offices, and we had to go through here... this is it. I know it is." And she led the way down the deserted corridor. The corridor split off in two directions at the end, and Alice nodded to the left, indicating this as the hallway of choice.
"This way," she whispered, rounding the corner. As they did, however, a wizard was stepping out of one of the first offices, and he paused suddenly, evidently having heard something of Alice's hushed tone.
The three adolescents froze; Alice's hand covered her mouth. The wizard—a tall, broad shouldered man, with sharp features and long grey hair that he wore in a pony-tail—looked around, frowning. He stepped back through the open door, into the office he had just exited, and spoke to someone inside.
"The others have gone, haven't they, Crawford?"
"'At's right," grunted a voice from within. Lily already knew, but Alice elbowed James and nodded vigorously, mouthing, "That's him."
"Alright, then," replied the wizard, Svilt. He closed the office door behind him, and made his way down the corridor. Lily, James, and Alice narrowly missed brushing against him, and they waited until he was some distance away before they started again.
"Falstaff's office is at the end," whispered Alice, and they started in that direction.
They were barely halfway down, however, before the last door on the left side of the corridor opened, admitting several wizards.
Four, to be exact, and they easily encompassed the entire width of the hallway. The three under the Invisibility Cloak would have to move out of their way or be detected. Lily tugged at James's arm, and guided them in the uncomfortably slow process of moving silently backward and into the adjacent hall.
"I hope they don't turn here," muttered James. The three of them leaned closely against the wall.
"Hadn't we better move, in case the do?" Lily asked.
Alice nodded her agreement, adding, "The skinny bloke is Falstaff. We'd better follow him."
The four wizards walked slowly and spoke to each other in hushed tones, and Lily realized that Svilt had been wrong in supposing that everyone else in the corridor had gone home.
Alice made to lead the way, stepping around James, but in doing so, she trod on his foot; he swore under his breath. Lily's eyes grew wide and she glared at the wizard, but they had other problems. The wizards in the adjacent corridor had stopped speaking and walking.
"Did they hear?" Alice mouthed, though of course neither of her companions knew the answer.
"What is it, Falstaff?" asked one of the other wizards.
"I thought I heard something."
Lily realized that they were under the cloak, but they could not travel very much further in the corridor without facing detection, especially if this bloke Falstaff was keeping an ear out. Glancing about for an escape, she noticed the rows of office doors. No light shown from within, and Lily poked James in the arm before pointing to the nearest door.
James nodded briskly, and the three stepped as absolutely quietly as possible towards the nearest door.
"Crawford is still in—his office is right there."
"Yes. All the same..." He took a step forward, his shoes creaking on the wooden floorboards. The wizard did not appear at the corner just yet, but he was obviously approaching.
Lily reached for the doorknob through the cloak, but the door was locked. She looked at James, who appeared thoughtful. Then, he removed his hat from his head and mumbled something that even Lily, in this extreme proximity to him, could not properly hear. James dug about below the rim of the fedora, as he had done earlier, before finally withdrawing the pocketknife that Lily had seen Sirius give him in the Atrium.
He bunched up the cloak so that he could reach the doorknob, and then began to pick the lock. Lily did not think this was a good idea, but there were three of them and one cloak, so she did not really have much of an option.
She was additionally surprised when the door clicked a few seconds later.
James grinned in silent victory, and they slipped into the dark office.
"That was a door—I thought everyone had gone home..." Falstaff could be heard saying to the others. Lily bit her lip and closed her eyes.
Falstaff's footsteps continued, either in the immediate corridor or the one that joined into it, Lily didn't know, but she was drawn away from that by the feeling of the Invisibility Cloak sliding from her head. She opened her eyes to see James folding it over his arm.
"What are you doing?" Alice whispered.
"I have a plan," said James, with just a slight shake in his voice. He looked at both of them, his face barely visible in the dark office. "Do you trust me?"
Alice nodded slowly. Lily opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it again. She thought about it, thought about the wizards outside, and about Alice and Frank, and the hit wizards... then she nodded. "I trust you," she whispered. "So what's the plan?"
"Fantastic," muttered James. He pulled off his fedora again, but he didn't take anything new out. Instead, he pushed the cloak inside, dropping the lock-picking pocket knife and his wand in there as well. He returned his hat to his head. "Excuse me."
He opened the office door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving the door wide open behind him. He raised his hands as though in surrender, and said: "Alright, you've got us."
A/N: Loves to you all. Extensive A/N-ing in the blogspot, as linked in my profile. This didn't get nearly as edited as I'd hoped, but such is life. EDIT: re-edited now. Slightly better.
Reviews are cozy scarves.
Love,
Jules
