Recap: Remus is nearly killed by a cursed letter; Sirius talks his way back into favor with his family; James and Sirius have yet another fight; James and Lily have confessed their feelings, but James is not in a state to be in a relationship; Dumbledore wants them to live in a safehouse.
and nothing but the truth
chapter thirty-eight
Lily's hands shake as she shuts the clasp on her suitcase and hikes a satchel over her shoulder. Remus is watching her from the doorway, not speaking, but rather just waiting. After a moment, she turns to him.
"Okay," she says. "I'm ready."
The car ride is silent as well. Lily did not ask why Remus prefers to drive, when she could easily have gotten a driver to take her to the apparition point. But no matter- he is here, and clearly he wants to see her off, and seeing as how they are best friends, the girl is not about to deny him that opportunity.
"You'll write?" he inquires with an air of forced casualness. His knuckles tighten around the steering wheel. He really isn't a very good driver.
"It'll only be a few weeks," she reminds him for what seems like the hundredth time. The thought has been pounding mercilessly at her mind for days: war. The Order. A safehouse in Wales.
A safehouse in Wales with James and Sirius.
"But write," Remus presses on. "So I know you're actually safe."
She laughs a little, battling down anxiety that threatens to bubble up her esophagus. "I should think you're the one to worry about, Remus- you nearly died -"
"Anyone could've received a cursed letter," he says as if this is an everyday occurrence. "I'm going to testify -" The young man stops short.
"How? They don't even know the culprit."
"Right," he quickly says. "I'll testify once they deduce his identity."
Thankfully, Lily doesn't seem to notice his slipup.
They come to the apparition point minutes later, a little beach buried on the shoreline. The sea laps hungrily at the edge as Lily steps out of the sedan, her luggage following.
The air is unpleasantly cold- winter is still just receding.
She leans over to blow Remus a lighthearted kiss. "I'll see you in a tad bit," she tells him with a brave smile.
He forces himself to smile back.
--
Perhaps the most interesting thing about James and Sirius, Lily hates to admit, is their pureblood background.
It's a shame to say so, and probably proof that Wizarding idealism- or is it racism? – is getting to her, but there's something vaguely attractive about the idea, just the word, even.
It sounds… worthy: the end product of years of careful cultivation on the families' parts.
James scoffs when she suggests it: "I'm no more worthy than you are," he says, "and don't let old prejudices teach you otherwise."
Sirius, she notices, remains quiet. His expression is dark, but this has been true so often lately that it has ceased to affect her.
Unfortunately, Lily's misgivings about her origins are only exacerbated when she sees their new dwelling.
The Potter mansion is a beautiful, Victorian farmhouse set in the middle of a sprawling grove of orange trees- the provocative aroma of citrus weighs thickly in the air, like a warm blanket that wraps around them. Brick pathways fork in every direction, and the edge of the manor catapults up into hilly terrain, so she cannot even see where Potter property begins and ends.
"We used to spend all day running through those hills," James comments as they hoof it through the grove up the main path. "I could never be bored here."
Indeed, she can't see how anyone could be bored here- because aside from the surrounding wilderness, the Potter Manor has all the qualities of a self-sustaining farm: a small stable where, according to James, there were polo ponies until he decided he liked Quidditch better; an empty dairy barn; a stream from which water can be pumped; and a small Quidditch pitch that doubles as a rugby side.
Lily is stunned, and this is all from walking up to the front door.
Sirius, on the other hand, is distinctly unimpressed; he resolutely ignores every look James sends his way, keeping his eyes trained on the white double doors of the mansion.
They make their way up the elegant porch-and before Lily can say a thing, James takes out his wand, slices open the pad of his index finger, and presses it against the door.
"James!" she exclaims, surprised and slightly horrified. He sucks the blood off his fingertip and looks at her.
"We're on very tight security," he says darkly. "Only the blood of a Potter will open that door, and as it happens, I'm the only Potter around."
"Where're your parents?" Sirius suddenly asks, his voice cracking. James's focus turns and an odd, hopeful expression flits across his face before he answers,
"They're in Singapore for the month."
The relief in Sirius's expression is unmistakable.
The inside of the house is just as beautiful as the outside. It speaks of another time, and as they take in the delicate china, the lovely, polished furniture, and the (moving) artwork lining the walls, Lily finds herself wondering how James grew up not completely convinced he lived in the 19th century.
"It's wonderful," she says truthfully, but the two young men beside her appear to have a different opinion. Finally James releases a deep breath and shakes his head.
"Shall we go upstairs?"
--
"I understand." Dumbledore leans back, looking at Remus through crystal spectacles. His bright blue eyes are piercing, though the younger wizard cannot discern what his old headmaster might be thinking. "I will inform Alastor of your dissent, then."
"I'm sorry," says Remus for the third time, but Dumbledore shakes his head.
"I must admit I am disappointed, but it is natural that you don't wish to compromise yourself. By your word, Remus, we will not prosecute Severus Snape."
--
"This is the guest room," James says, letting Lily in. The room is an open, sunny second-story dwelling with three curtained windows, a four-poster, and an en suite bathroom. She marvels at the lovely decorations- yellow paint and delicate lace trimming along the drapes.
"It's perfect," she says quietly, and James takes a few staggered steps back as if he has just realized he is alone in a room with her. That expression unfolds on his face: again, the one that screams of all the trauma he is still battling down- and he quickly moves toward the door.
"I've got to go," he says- no explanation necessary. "Sirius is just across the hall, and I'll be the next door down."
Lily nods, and he bolts.
--
Sirius, who lived with the Potters up until very recently, is (again) unimpressed with the manor. He doesn't want to look around, but rather wants to enjoy the comfort of his former room, enjoy the homeyness of it without the guilt of being a burden.
He has really missed this place.
Lily seems alight with joy, and Sirius feels a little twinge of nostalgia for their times of animosity. He enjoyed posing a challenge for her. It was a… hobby, being cryptic, the same way other people make hobbies of collecting coins or building models.
The first day, James takes merely a moment to poke his head into Sirius's room. "I'm off to add the wards to the north end. Want to come?"
"No," he responds dully, not bothering to lift his head from where he lies sprawled on the bed. A quill turns between his pale fingers as he contemplates the ceiling. "I'm sure you can handle it."
Inside, a little sighing feeling settles in his chest- apathy. He simply doesn't care about anything, especially not the hurt expression that must be on James's face right now.
"Let sleeping dogs lie," Sirius murmurs after his friend doesn't exit the doorway. A smile, unprovoked, curls languidly on his lips as James retreats.
--
Later, Lily comes up to the room and that cheap quill is still twirling between Sirius's fingers. He gives her a cocky grin as she walks in.
"Do you want anything to eat?" she asks, sitting on the edge of his bed. "You've been lying here for hours."
Sirius shrugs. The quill twirls faster. Lily's eyebrows rise.
"How do you do that?"
He abruptly drops the feather on his stomach, dragging his eyes across the ceiling. "I don't know. Don't you have something to do?"
"What is there to do?" she contends. "It's only the three of us here, and no one is talking to the other two. James fell asleep on the window seat in the hall -"
"About time he conked out." Sirius pushes the quill carelessly to the floor and sits up, crossing his legs and looking at her appraisingly. "You look like you could use a bit of a catnap yourself."
She shrugs, ignoring his jab- clearly she does not want to leave, no matter his insinuations. "I've been a bit of an insomniac lately."
A laugh- bitter, barking, but carefully restricted in volume. "Join the club," he answers. "Nobody in the Order sleeps."
"True. I -" She hesitates. "I don't know. It's really a matter of whether we're doing the right thing. I've been wondering that for a long time."
"Is anything right?" Sirius murmurs, and watches as her eyebrows draw together and her mouth turns down in a little frown. He likes that more than he really should. "Our entire moral system is based on what we're told is good and bad. Sometimes you can't question it- now's not the time for an existential crisis."
He almost chokes on his own hypocrisy.
Lily doesn't answer. Instead, she is staring- in the midst of stretching his arms, he has lifted his T-shirt a few inches upward to expose a strip of pale skin.
"What's that?" she asks quickly, and Sirius glances down. He knows immediately, and masks his horror by casually dropping his hands into his lap and saying,
"What's what?"
Lily is silent. A little wrinkle appears between her eyebrows, and he can see she's trying to figure out what he's hiding. He prays she doesn't comprehend.
Finally she looks at him with blank green eyes, an expression as wiped as his own, and says, "Nothing. Never mind."
On another day, he might've marveled at how careful she is. But right now, he is only in shock.
Lily leaves soon, citing hunger and closing the door gently behind her. For the longest time Sirius only sits there, staring fearfully at the doorway and subconsciously tracing the thin scars on his abdomen.
Author's Note: Eugh. I HATE this chapter. You have no idea.