Disclaimer: Don't own.
Chapter 29
A continuation of last month's edition, on Lily Evans of Hogwarts.
An interview between Lily Evans herself and Rita Skeeter, rising columnist:
Ms Skeeter: Lily, we – myself and your avid fans or haters – would love to know your opinion on our latest article in your honour, Lily Evans: Is our innocent sweet little white flower not so white?
Indignation and passion shines in Ms Evans' famous green eyes as she speaks.
Ms Evans: I am here to confirm that what Clara Greengrass said is wrong! There has been a misunderstanding, that I agree, but everything else is plain bull-shit. Everything else is either partly off or completely off.
Ms Skeeter: Interesting. So what have you to say about you being attention-seeking?
Sighing and leaning back, she speaks modestly about herself.
Ms Evans: That also is false. I know I'm nothing special. I'm not that smart, or pretty, or friendly, but at least I can accept it, and I don't crave attention, unlike Miss Greengrass herself. I'd like to add that she's a lying hypocrite. She and her friends are tricking my friend, Colette.
Ms Skeeter: Ah. Colette. Do you have anything to say to her?
Ms Evans looks down, seeming tired as her much-loved eyes glitter with tears of pain and loss.
Ms Evans: Yes… Colette, I don't know why you're picking the Slytherins over me. I'm your friend. I really care. They… they're tricking you, I swear. I just thought you were mad at me, and I wanted to find out why. It's all a misunderstanding.
Ms Skeeter: How fascinating, Miss Evans. Is it true you gave James Potter a love potion?
At this, Ms Evans looks up, indignant once more, determination emanating from her figure.
Miss Evans: No, God, no. I'm shocked anyone even thought of that. It's pure fact that I didn't really like James till this year when I realised I love him, Anyway, love potions are illegal, aren't they?
Ms Skeeter: Yes, they are indeed. About Mr. Snape, Ms Evans, why did you 'ditch' him?
Ms Evans: He betrayed our friendship for childish triumph, to get his enemies – the Marauders, whom I used to loathe but now I love one of their members – into trouble, and for that I cannot forgive him.
Ms Skeeter: Miss Evans, you are known as one of the most beautiful and intelligent witches in Hogwarts. Is it true you were not aware of it earlier, and what is your opinion on this thought?
At this, Ms Evans blushes.
Ms Evans: Yes, it's true I only just found out. I mean, I'm flattered, but I honestly don't think I'm all that pretty or smart. Though I am pleased that at least some people think well of me.
Ms Skeeter: How modest. Thank you, Ms Evans, is there anything you would like to add?
Looking serious once more, she continues steadily, though her eyes are shining with passion and with feeling and with tears of emotion struggling to be unshed.
Ms Evans: Yes. I want to tell you that I may not be, as I earlier mentioned, as great as some of you seem to deem me so, but I am not attention-seeking, and I have a morale which I treasure. I treasure my friends and I treasure trust. I also want to thank Mabel Boot, my friend, and anyone else out there that believes me, because I'm speaking the truth. I just want to be a normal, happy schoolgirl with friends that I can trust and care for, and would do the same for me. I would like to tell Colette to take her time trying to make up her mind, but I beg her not to pass the point of no return, and I hope she realizes soon that where she belongs is with me, and her friends, and Sirius Black, here in Gryffindor. Thank you, Rita, for this opportunity to share my thoughts.
Ms Skeeter: No problem, Ms Evans. Talking to you and hearing your side of the tale has been a pleasure.
So now you've heard both the yays and the nays. Who do you want to believe? Angelic Lily, or demonic Lily? Also, there have been many letters expressing how they feel being sent to Ms Evans, some haters have even sent minor curses and other harmful spells. One of them have successfully burnt Ms Evans' fingers, though she waves the pain, which must have been excruciating and scorching. The sender should know that physically harming someone is illegal unless on self-defence. Any further harmful posts will be traced, and the sender will indeed get into trouble.
So now, there will be no continuations of this subject on Ms Evans' request.
My lips twist as I scan the page. I look up and throw the magazine back at my scowling friends. Renee burns it to cinder in a manner of seconds, reminding me painfully of what Lily used to do. "Evans," Melanie drawls, "is such a pain sometimes. Her and her suck-up friend, Boot. If Evans were to get on her knees, confess everything and beg her to accept her offer of friendship, Colette, would you do it?"
"No," I spit, my face contorting further. Lily needs to learn when to give up, when to just tell the truth and get it over and done with. "Never. I'm Slytherin now."
"Good," Melanie leans back for a moment, and exchanges a look with Renee. I look between them curiously. Renee takes a deep breath, as if she's preparing for something vital, something important.
"Listen, Colette," Renee says gently yet commandingly, looking me straight in the eye and taking my hands. "We want we can trust you, so we will be letting you in on something people will never know for a long, long, time, till we rise into power.
"Now, you think we're just a clique, but we aren't. We're a group of very special, very great wizards and witches that extend all over the world… School-age and above, everything, and only certain people are invited to be one… We call them – us – the Death Eaters. I know it sounds scary, Colette, but in truth, we actually just want the Greater Good for the world. The Death-Eaters fight for the Greater Good for the wizarding world. We have a Lord, but he is powerful and he knows what he is doing, and seeks only to make the world a better place altogether, where everything is fair and where we are appreciated for who are, where we feel we belong. Now, Colette, we've been observing you for a long, long time. We've decided that you are worthy enough to be one of us.
"I – we – are inviting you to be one of us. I know this is a lot to take in, but I swear on my inner Slytherin that it is true, and we beg you to consider this special offer, Colette. Will you join us?"
I look at her. The shock is overwhelming, The first I think of is: is my leg being pulled? I really doubt it – this clique rarely lies to one another, and when they swear on their inner Slytherin, they sure as hell mean it. I can't really think straight at the moment, my head is whirring with information on Thestrals and animate Transfiguration, and the exam stress is really killing me: alternating insomnia with exhaustion; semi-illusions; nightmares; terrible facial blemishes like dark violet eye bags; cramps and aches; irritability; etcetera. This great big drama isn't helping much, either.
Renee said it was for the Greater Good. The Greater Good. To make the world a better place for future generations. I think they do want what's best for the world; had they not taken me under their protective wing when I was in the line of fire, when I was trapped in hidden thorns?
Only certain people are invited – worthy – special – it all makes me feel good, wanted, special, loved, when I hear it. Do these people really care for me? Is there a potential in me they see? It would feel so… so great, so powerful, so wanted. It makes me feel so loved and treasured in a way Mum, Dad, Molly, anyone, even Sirius could make me feel. It makes me feel like I mean something. Like I don't need Gryffindors to be happy. I don't need my past to save me; my future is open and it is great. I can be who I am, I don't have to hide, to pretend, I can be who I am and who I want to be, and still be loved for it, still be accepted for it.
I hesitate for a moment. But they are Slytherins – what if this is a trick – what if I regret this later – what if – what if? There are so many things I have to be careful about first. Is this illegal? Is it wrong, past all the good intentions? Could something go haywire? Could these people just be brainwashed, herding us like sheep for the slaughter?
Renee kneels in front of me, and smiles, in a way she looks so powerful with an austere beauty, invincible, strong, perfect. "Colette, no one will ever order you around and treat you like dirt. You'll be acknowledged for all your talents, for who you are. No one will ever treat you like they did, ever again. You can do anything you want. Anything."
I look up, into her eyes. I hesitate for a moment, and say, "I… Yes. I'll join this… Death-eater group. Yes."
"Good, I knew I could count on you, Colette," Renee beams at me, sitting back in her chair, reclining back like a cat. "There's only one more test, Colette, to prove you are truly with us." Her eyes are dangerously snake-like in quality as they glint, training on me with an intensity that scares me, and intensity that held me stationary as she spoke in a voice, a voice that suggested utmost importance, utmost secrecy, utmost severity of situation. For some reason, something screams at me to back out here, to prove who I am. But I force the question from my throat.
"What is it?" I croak.
Renee smiles, deadliness hidden behind faux sympathy as she whispers in my ear, then pulls away.
I look at her. That's impossible. "I can't do that. That's… it's wrong, my God!"
"You think this is evil, you think this is dark magic, but Colette, it's for the greater good. It's a sacrifice, a worthy sacrifice. You and he should both be proud, honoured. You should honoured to even be considered, and proud that the Lord thinks you are worthy. And remember, Colette. Our Lord does bad, bad things to people who tell on him, and to people who refuse his offers. So think about it, Colette. One life for another. His for yours."
Tears are streaming down my face.
"So he will kill me if I don't do this?" I ask quietly.
"He'd kill you, Colette, and he'd kill him as well, and painfully, so it's either one painless death, or two, with you both screaming for it to end. I'm so sorry we have to do this. But it's necessary. We know you can make the right choice. You know what's the best. What do you choose, Colette?"
"I don't even have a choice, do I?"
Her dark eyes shine, with malice and sympathy at my struggle, a strange and inhuman mix, as the words leave her lips. "Yes. And no."
"I … I'll do it."
