Chapter 51: Tom
Once in London, Sirius climbed off his bike and went round to the side to take the sleeping Lily off James so the man could clamber out of the side car before taking the girl back.
"Lily?" Sirius asked tentatively, poking her.
"Shh, don't wake her, we don't know what she's been through," James said turning his back to Sirius, as if turning away would be able to stop any sound from reaching her.
Sirius ran an uncertain hand through his hair. 'That's precisely what bothers me,' he thought. "She's usually a light sleeper though," he said, giving her another poke.
James gave him a half glower as Sirius opened the door for them.
"She's exhausted," he explained. "Where's Remus?"
"If he's not on the couch then I don't know. Out perhaps."
x
'Usually a light sleeper, puh. He's saying that on purpose,' James thought bitterly as he placed her on the couch. "We'll rest a bit before going on, eh?"
"Right..."
Sirius stalked off into the kitchen and James unable to think of anything useful to do, followed.
Sirius had his wand out and on the smooth counter top the paper crane flapped feebly, not with nearly enough force necessary to lift itself into the air. Its beak was squashed and neck was bent, broken from the journey in Sirius' pocket. It was a pitiful sight.
Next moment a spark jumped from Sirius' wand, lighting the origami bird's wing tip. The flame slowly spread, consuming the rest of its body.
James looked up at his friend, who only glowered back as if to say 'What? Got a problem with it?'
No, James didn't have a problem with it. Not at all. In fact he reached into his own pocket to retrieve that crumpled bit of parchment, something he wouldn't mind adding to the bonfire...
It continued to flap and twitch, struggling until the very end. James wondered if its last spasmodic movements only helped the fire spread more quickly. But what did it matter really. Lying down and waiting would still turn out the same result, it was doomed no matter what. He might as well die fighting.
The crane, that is. He, of course, didn't allow himself to have such thoughts. He had to be strong and optimistic for Lily's sake as well as his own.
You should have stayed 'dead.' You were safer that way. They won't be happy about this.
S
The note seemed to taunt him, sneering up at him from the countertop. Daring him to do it.
But it was Lily's letter; he didn't have the right to destroy it. He should show it to her. But how would she react? Would she be upset? Worse, would she be touched?
Next to the smudge that had once been the crane that had led them out of the mines the slip of parchment sat. 'Rather weighty for just a slip of paper,' James thought. To burn, or not to burn? He knew what he wanted to do well enough, but he was in contrast, also equally and painfully aware of what he should do. Give it to Lily and let her get rid of it or keep it as she saw fit.
But would she actually keep it? James knew by exploration she had kept his letters, would she keep this one as well? And yet she had told Sirius she wanted nothing to do with Snape. So what was the harm in destroying a little note she didn't even know existed? It might be saving her more pain.
He growled and rumpled his already messed up hair as he glared and the polemical parchment. He was rationalising again and he knew it. He'd just give it to her when she awoke, even if it only served to remind her that Snape had been the one to save her and not him.
The note at which he had been glaring burst into flames. It didn't start from any one place and spread to the rest like it had the bird. Instead, the entire thing seemed to go up all at once, blazed for one powerful second and the next was nothing but a black smear and a wisp of smoke.
'Well, no use debating it now,' he thought. Sirius had made the decision for him apparently.
"Thanks, Padfoot."
"I didn't do it," he replied, pointing at his wand securely replaced inside his pocket to prove it.
"Oh..." How embarrassing. He only just now understood how ashamed Lily had been about her accidental magic. He was a grown man. He should be able to control his emotions, not let them run away with him. He shouldn't lose control at his age. And in his profession! That was even more shameful. A professor/auror should be able to contain and control his magic.
The most shameful of all, however, was that when it came down to it, it had been his selfishness that won out. It hadn't been like Lily's self preservation, nor was it anything good like protecting from danger; it hadn't even been righteous anger. No, it had been utterly and entirely selfish. He had let happen what he wanted, not what he knew was right. He rumpled his hair awkwardly and cleared away 'the evidence' of his little 'accident'. Sirius said nothing about it, and for that he was grateful.
Sirius grabbed two glasses and a bottle of something that looked rather potent and placed them on the tabletop. Despite the strength of the beverage he filled both glasses half way full.
"We'll have to go back in a bit."
"So?"
"Don't drink and fly."
"I doubt the air traffic will be too terrible," he said sarcastically. "And that's just to keep fools from sliding off their brooms. Besides, it's just the one."
More like three, but James accepted the glass and clinked it with Sirius' all the same.
"Cheers," said Sirius, taking a sip.
It was silent for a while, both men too troubled by their own thoughts to share them. After several minutes (and several more sips) Sirius did make the attempt.
"You know how she said..." he began but paused. His brows furrowed as he stared at the glass in his hand. He took another swallow and made another attempt. "Might they have..." Yet again he couldn't finish. He sighed angrily and gave it one more go. "What if You-Know-Who..." he stopped a third time. Frustrated, he downed the rest of his drink, slammed the glass on the table and growled, "Never mind," before storming out of the kitchen, pounding up the stairs and slamming his bedroom door behind him.
James knew Sirius would never actually say that he was worried, but it had only just now occurred to him (after seeing the man struggle so) that perhaps Padfoot simply didn't know how.
James took his glass with him into the living room where he sat in the armchair next to the couch where Lily lay.
He'd give her another hour to rest. Of course the next leg to Hogwarts would take hours and she could rest then too, but that just isn't the same as a few good hours in a quiet, warm, comfortable place.
He sipped his drink and wondered if they might chance apparating to Hogwarts instead. It seemed safe enough. Anyone interested in them knew that's where they'd be going anyway, and once they did they would be safe in the castle. If Lily didn't feel up to it they could always do side-alo...
"Hey!" he exclaimed aloud as the idea struck him. He sloshed his drink which stained his trousers but he distractedly cleaned it away with a careless wave of his wand.
Apparition, was when one person splits space, exiting one location to enter another. Side-along apparition was simply taking a person along with you through the rip you've already created for yourself. It doesn't involve them making their own. Therefore the 'side-along' person would, in theory, be undetectable. They wouldn't be able to tell when you were apparating solo or with someone else.
What an excellent realisation. He knew his magical theory was sound, but he wished there was some safe way to test it, but knew there probably wasn't. He remembered that Dumbledore had said that Portkeys were detectable. James had never really given much thought to the magical mechanics of Portkeys, but now that he was thinking about it he imagined Dumbledore was right. (Not that he ever doubted.) Portkeys created portals for each person using the conduit, whatever that happened to be. The sensation of travelling by Portkey was a good enough indicator of that. It wasn't being squeezed through space, it was having a space created for each person touching the object at the time, and going through that channel. Everyone touching the vehicle would have their own little path created for them, that's why they could let go and get off and anytime… Therefore everyone would be detectable. Pity this did him no good now. Both he and Lily were most certainly being monitored.
James heard a door open. Not Sirius'.
Remus' thin frame was etched in the doorway. Had the bones in his face always been that prominent? That striking? Perhaps it was just the light. He put a finger to his lips, to stop his friend from greeting him too loudly.
X
When Remus walked into the residence where he was currently squatting (or so it felt) his first reaction had been pleasure to see James and Lily safely back. He was about to enquire after Sirius when James put a finger to his lips. Remus nodded and closed the door quietly.
"Sirius?" he whispered in enquiry.
"Upstairs," he replied, unnecessarily pointing his thumb upwards.
"Everyone alright?"
"Think so."
"How did it go?"
James didn't answer; he merely shrugged and said "hmm." A frustrating response. Remus had been hoping for more information. Or any information for that matter. He frowned and took his seat in the last remaining chair. James put his glass down in front of him.
"You can have it if you like," he said leaning back and getting comfortable. He shut his eyes and sighed. Remus glanced at the clock. It wasn't even 10 in the morning and they were already drinking?
'Hmm,' indeed, Remus thought. What was he not telling him? They all seemed to be exhausted, but were they weary from winning of drained from defeat? He frowned to himself. Leaving the glass untouched (for once) Remus left to seek his other friend upstairs. Perhaps Sirius would be awake and more willing to give information.
Remus was used to the house being still and quiet, having stayed there alone so often. Sirius was often out with women, or pretending to be out with women when he was actually working (Remus suspected his friend did a lot more for Witch Weekly than he let on.) But now it seemed extraordinarily silent, given that there were 5 people inside. As he trod up the stairs he was aware for the first time how much the third and 5th steps squeaked.
It wasn't just the fact that he had to be quiet. He was quiet most of the time, he didn't mind the silence. In fact he quite liked it. What made the quiet so uncomfortable was that there was something there that wasn't being spoken. It made the silence heavier and more oppressive, so much so that he flinched at the sound his knuckles made when he tapped lightly at Sirius' door.
Assuming that Sirius must be resting like the other two, Remus turned away, thinking he might dare to nap in one of the guest rooms seeing as Lily was currently occupying the couch. Sirius had often insisted he take a room, but that would be admitting that he lived here. And he was trying his best to find a job and get his own place, so he could stop depending on the generosity his friends for everything.
Thinking that he would just sit downstairs after all, he started descending the steps again when the door behind him opened. Sirius' eyebrows raised half way, mimicking his half surprise. "Moony," he said, standing back from the door, opening it further to let him enter. "Do, come in."
Feeling unusually nervous, he did so. "Is something really the matter?" Remus asked. "Prongs wouldn't tell me anything."
"Because he doesn't know anything," Sirius replied simply. Remus opened his mouth to make further enquiry but Sirius interrupted, answering the question he knew he was about to ask. "And neither do I."
"How can you not know?"
"Because we weren't there," he said with a sigh, falling gracefully into the scarlet sofa. With one leg dangling from the couch, the other bent so that his knee pointed to the ceiling, Sirius appeared as if he were at perfect ease, bored even. Remus knew this was not the case.
"Is she alright?"
"I don't know that either," he drawled. He noticed that Sirius was avoiding eye contact.
"Padfoot..."
"We were separated early on," he said heaving an exasperated sigh, as if knowing that Remus wouldn't let him off with just that. He waved his hand lazily in the air. "All we know is that she met You-Know-Who at some point during the night, when we finally found and freed her..."
"Freed her?"
"We left immediately. She mentioned something about He Who Must Not Be Named. That's it."
Remus highly doubted it, but it didn't seem as if he would be getting any more information. Still, he had been more informative than Prongs had been.
"I see," he said, giving his friend a look that would have been more impressive had he had spectacles to peer over. Not that it mattered, Sirius wouldn't look at him anyway. "Why haven't you asked her?"
"What an excellent question, Moony!" he said with false spirit. Uh oh, he had pushed too far. That biting sarcasm was proof enough.
"Sorry," he apologised. "I don't think I understand."
"Neither do I, mate. Neither do I." His voice had lowered once more and he pinched the bridge of his nose where it met his brow, as if he had a headache. He probably did. Sirius had always been oh so particular about getting his sleep and it was obvious that he hadn't gotten any.
Without saying anything else, Remus nodded (not that Sirius would have seen) and left the room. James was clearly sleeping he noted as he walked through the living room to the kitchen. He put the bottle back in its place and searched for something rather more substantial to fill his stomach.
Merlin he was so tired. He hated always being so tired. He always missed out on things. Thinking he would simply nap instead of eat more of Sirius' food, he went back to the living room and plunked down into the chair. He studied the sleeping girl for a moment before he too drifted off.
It would be another hour before Sirius finally cracked and the terrible perfect silence would be broken...
x
It takes a lot of noise to wake James, and it was a mighty loud SMACK that did. Jumping out of his seat, it took a minute for him to realise what had happened. Sirius was standing over Lily, holding one hurt hand in the other. He had slapped her. He was about to start yelling at his friend when he realised that Lily was still asleep, which was why Sirius had probably done it to begin with. The relief in knowing that she hadn't felt the slap didn't compare with the fear in knowing what Sirius was about to tell him.
"As I thought. She won't wake. Bloody..." but he didn't finish the invective. He simply ran a stinging red hand through his hair. Remus was standing beside them too, frowning. "Well, what do we do, then? St. Mungo's? Seeing as how it's here in London? Much shorter by bike."
"We'll apparate. To Hogwarts."
"Too chancy."
"One of you will take Lily, the other will take me. I don't think we will be detected that way."
"You sure?"
"Not entirely, no. But at this point, I don't really care."
"Well you should. Being rash and acting without thinking gets one into trouble," said Sirius with a touch of ire in his voice. It was a not so subtle reminder that struck James painfully. He gave the matter thought and came to the conclusion that this wasn't at all the same as when he left on Christmas day.
"We'll be safe once we are inside Hogwarts grounds anyway. And I don't fancy taking her to St. Mungo's." Not if he was going to have to be at Hogwarts or the ministry half the time. He wanted her nearer by.
Somehow James knew Sirius would be the one to take Lily. He made no complaint; not that Sirius would have heard him if he had. He was gone before James had even glanced at Remus to ask if he would take him. After they heard Padfoot leave he had no other choice than to go with Moony, so he didn't even bother.
Uncharacteristically, Sirius was levitating her instead of carrying her himself. He tromped as though in a furious temper across the lawns from Hogsmeade to the castle. Remus and James jogged after him.
In the hospital wing James waited, knowing that Madame Pomfrey was going to say something about him bringing Lily in again and he meant to cut her off immediately with something he had already composed in his head. She only got so far as "Potter..." when he interrupted her with his speech.
"It was Lord Voldemort's doing, not mine. And no, I don't know what, so save your chiding remarks for naughty children and direct your attention to actually helping."
The healer, effectively silenced began removing Lily's over robe. It was nasty business. The puss from her burns had dried, sticking her to her clothes, so that when Madame Pomfrey removed them they were ripped off and began to ooze again. It would have been painful had she been able to feel it. The worse one was the ring around her middle. It was nauseating to look at and the marauders turned their backs the let the iron stomached healer do her job. Unfortunately, besides healing the burns ("which won't properly heal," she complained) there wasn't anything else she could do.
"This gets rather tiresome, doesn't it?" said Sirius casually. "She could think of something new, instead of lying inert for hours on end. Change it up a bit, this act is getting old."
"It's not an act," James snapped. "Don't talk as if it's her fault."
"It bloody well could be for all you know."
"Well we neither of us know so unless you have something useful to say..."
"Suppose her brains have been addled again?"
"Padfoot!" Remus cried, trying to stop the man from upsetting James further. But apparently that's what Sirius wanted to do.
"Suppose this time she never wakes up? What will you do then, huh Prongs?"
"Sirius!" Remus growled, pulling his friend away. He continued in a fierce whisper that carried to James' ears nevertheless. "What do you think your doing? I don't know why you are trying to antagonise him but stop, aright?"
"Why? Not speaking about it won't make the problem go away, will it? Might as well lay it out for him so he can be prepared for what may come."
"I'm sure he knows just as well as you do what may come. Think about your friend and deal with your own pain some other way. If you can't be supportive, bugger off." Remus gave Sirius a bit of a shove as he strode back to James' side.
Sirius glared sourly at Remus and had taken two determined steps towards the Hospital Wing doors when Lily's voice stopped him. She didn't say anything that caused him to pause in curiosity or to welcome her back to the world of the waking. Instead he was frozen where he stood in shocked horror at the sound of her screaming.
Madame Pomfrey veritably flew back in, shouting at them over Lily's din to get out of her way. They stepped back letting her by, and stared on with expressions of varying pain and disbelief.
"She's tripping," said Sirius. James was surprised he could hear anything over the racquet. But perhaps he hadn't heard him correctly after all. What he had said didn't make much sense.
After several minutes of trying various ways to make her stop shouting Madame Pomfrey gave up. Her face, out of all gathered there, looked the most distressed. Perhaps it was because she felt the added guilt for failing as a healer, or perhaps the woman simply didn't bother to conceal her chagrin like the men, who were all doing their best to put on stoic faces.
Sirius was the first to leave. He had thrown his arms in the air, defeated, and stomped out after muttering several foul things under his breath that no one else could hear. As the girl's shrieks grew louder and more intense James followed Sirius' example, his mask of stoicism having fallen off completely.
Remus was the only one to stay, being vastly more accustomed to howls of both mental and physical agony. True, he had never heard Lily, or any woman for that matter, scream like that, but he still understood it.
All pain at that profound a level sounds the same...
Looking guilty, Madame Pomfrey glanced at Remus pleadingly. He nodded and pulled up a chair and sat down and let the distraught healer take her leave. The onerous task of watching over her fell to him.
"Looks like it's just you and me, Lil."
She screamed in seeming response.
"Yeah, I'm not too happy about it either," he confessed sadly.
Lily's dream was vivid and surreal and obviously not her own. A woman stood by the sink, washing the dishes, drying them with a tea towel and putting them away on the rack. She was an older woman, in her fifties but still beautiful. Actually had Lily seen her on the street she wouldn't have said the woman was beautiful, but in this dream she was, because in this dream Lily wasn't Lily, and she loved this woman she knew was called Muriel.
Muriel turned, realising that Lily had been watching her.
"Oh, Tom," she said smiling. "You startled me. I wasn't expecting you back so soon."
"I forgot my tackle box," she explained, and kissed the wrinkled and leathery cheek.
She rolled her eyes and smiled amusingly. How anyone could forget their tackle when angling was beyond her. Lily went into the other room to grab the things she'd forgotten and bade her wife goodbye for a second time. She left on foot. It wasn't that far and she didn't want to waste the petrol. They had to be economical. Being only a local grocer wasn't exactly lucrative but that was alright. Tome had grown out of his ambition as a young man, and when the time came he had taken over the family business without complaint or regret.
Lily walked a two mile path she had never seen yet it still felt perfectly familiar all the same, as if she had been taking this same route for 20 years. Which she had been, or Tom had been; same thing really.
She took her usual spot by the stream, sorted out her things and sat in silence, with his line in the water, watching the birds. Truth was she enjoyed birds to fish, knew much more about them, but she hadn't been thinking of that when she decided on a new hobby 25 years ago. Too late now. Besides, it didn't really matter. She just liked sitting quietly.
Today was rather special. A foreign owl, which didn't used to live in Britain but for some reason now did, was perched on a tree not too far away. 'Athene noctua' she said to himself. She heard the low coo of the collared dove before he saw it, but after several moments of patient searching she spotted it. Streptopelia decaocto.
Usually she saw thrushes, sparrows, finches, titmice, warblers, and crows. This time in winter though the titmice were everywhere. Perhaps it was because the other birds were less abundant and so the chickadees (as the Americans call them) simply seemed more prevalent.
It became harder to see the birds as it grew darker and this evening seemed unusually cold. Tom hated the cold. She packed up her things and rose to return to the house. She would bring home no fish today, as usual.
She felt a sudden drop in her mood that was as unexplainable as the sudden drop in temperature. For some reason she was depressed, and felt sure that she would never be cheerful again.
Fog seemed to cloud her path and her mind all at once and she strayed from her customary path. It was several moments after she heard the clunk and clatter that she realised she had dropped her tackle box and fishing pole. She was on the ground barely aware of Dover. It grew dimmer and dimmer as the memory of Germany grew stronger and stronger.
x
Tom woke up, face down in the snow. A mere boy of 20 and already wanting to die. He was alone now, separated from the rest of the few of them that remained of his regiment. He had been lost in the snow for two days without anything to eat. If he bothered to look at his feet or hands he'd see that they were blue with frostbite.
It was the dog that found him. Clearly the Germans thought he had been trying to hide from them by burying himself in the ice. They learned the truth later as they dragged him up. They had been shouting at him before that. He couldn't understand them telling him to stand up, not that he could have anyway.
He was glad they had found him. They would put him out of his misery and either kill him now or take him to prisoner of war camp. He would welcome either option, they both seemed so kind. If they wanted to be truly cruel they would just leave him there.
Thankfully they didn't.
He was vaguely aware that he was on a train, curled up on the floor of a boxcar. It spelled like piss, or perhaps that was just him. He didn't care. He was protected from the biting wind.
He didn't know how long he had been on the train but a kind boy helped him get off when the time came. Boy? No, the German soldier was just as old as he was.
'No, he is a boy. And so am I.' Just boys, pretending, hoping, trying to prove they were men by being in the war. At the time it was honourable. Now? It was just folly. Idiocy, foolishness. It seemed so childish now. Only the young sign up voluntarily. Only the young fight in wars. The old don't. Not because of aching bones. The old simply know better.
As he was escorted inside, through the gates surrounded by barbed wire and guard towers he couldn't stop himself from repeatedly thanking anyone with whom he came in contact. "Danke" was just about the only German he knew, but that's all he needed at this point. He didn't feel like a traitor, thanking them.
The one who helped him was a nice boy, despite his being German. He hadn't been anything but kind. The only thing wrong he'd done was join the army. It would be hypocritical for Tom to hold that against him. He'd made that same mistake himself. This boy wasn't his enemy. In fact, he decided his only real enemy was the snow. Anything else was just an imagined adversary.
Dizzy from continued hunger and illness, he fainted the moment he met Devane, the resident prisoner who felt himself in charge all his fellow English soldiers of that particular camp. Actually, he might have collapsed anyway, even if he hadn't been sick. Francis Devane had a rather overpowering personality. Charisma and self confidence emanated from him like a powerful stench. It was strong enough to knock a man on his backside. Frank Devane had been in the camp for years. Four or five. He considered himself an authority on Prisoner of War camp life. He had a solid build and he kept fit from daily exercise. Truth was he had seen the least action out of everyone there, but inside those barbed wire walls, he was in charge.
Tom was surprised to meet with Lucas Benson there. There of all places. They had been very close school chums back in the day. He had called Lucas, 'Benny', and he had called him…
"Tommy boy! How about that eh? It's a small war."
"World," Tom corrected. The world was indeed small. The war wasn't though. The war was big. Too big. Too big for such a small world.
"Good to see you all the same." He shook Tom's hand. "When did you get here?"
"Brought in yesterday."
"Brought in from where?"
"From the cold."
Lucas chuckled. "Ah, you haven't changed. Come on, mum's just sent some raspberry preserve in her care parcel. Let's try it out, eh?"
Tom nodded and followed.
The bread was slightly hard but the jam was so wonderful he could have cried.
"How is it?" Luke asked.
"It tastes… beautiful."
"Beautiful? Ha. How can something taste beautiful?"
Tom didn't know. All he knew was that eating this jam made him feel the same way he felt when looking at a sunset. It was beautiful and he was content.
"Have you heard anything about Sam?" Tom asked, now feeling alive and curious enough to be inquisitive about their old group of friends in secondary school.
"Died in France."
"Oh."
"Mm."
"And Pims?"
"Blown up by a German U boat in the Crimea."
"Oh."
"Mm."
Tom put down the beautiful tasting jam. He wouldn't ask questions anymore either.
x
Next day Frank came up behind him and clapped a strong arm around Tom's back and steered him into a small building the prisoners had constructed themselves to serve as their recreation hall.
Devane tried to tell him about their latest escape plan from "these damned awful Germans."
Tom didn't want to escape. That would only get him back into the snow. He didn't think the Germans were awful either. They had saved him, fed him, given him an actual bed to sleep in. Why would he want to escape from that? He would prefer to wait right here and continue enjoying their generosity until the end of the war. He didn't say this of course…
When Luke came down with a high fever Tom decided to sit with him, until curfew at least. When he rose to go to the restroom (which was really more of a multi-stalled outhouse) Lucas informed that he needed to go too, so they both went outside.
"Hey Tom, look. There's no guard in the tower!"
"I'm sure he's there somewhere."
"No, he's not there! Look. We can make a break for it right now. I have these." He pulled a rudimentary looking pair of wire clippers from his pants.
"Where did you get those?"
"We made them. I always take them with me in case an opportunity comes. Let's do it Tommy!"
Before Tom had time to reply or take him back to bed he ran off. That stupid fever was to blame. If he had been thinking clearly Lucas would never have tried. Tom knew better than to yell after him; that would only draw unwanted attention. Silently, he ran after his friend.
He caught up to him at the barbed wire fence and tried to pull him back.
"Let go," he whispered. "I need that arm to cut."
"No. You're coming back."
"I'm not!" he shouted excitedly. "We're going to make it!"
The guard was in his tower. Or at least he was there now. That was plain enough when he started shooting at them.
Both men fell to the ground. Tom tired to tell if he had been hit or not. He thought he might have been; Lucas falling on him wouldn't have made his leg crumple like that.
x
Frank was there when he woke up.
"You'll both get time in the cooler for this," he said with a condescending sigh. Tom thought that Devane was going to lecture them, starting off with 'if you had just waited for my plan…' but he didn't. He simply added. "Once you can, of course."
"He thought the guard wasn't there…" Tom explained. He looked over to the bed next to him where Lucas slept. Both of them had been hit in the legs. Tom in his left and Lucas in both.
Three days later they were still confined to their beds. It was in the middle of the night and Luke's whispering woke him from his dream, which he had now forgotten, but thought it might have been a good one.
"Tom! Oi Tom!" he whispered hoarsely.
He didn't reply. Perhaps if Luke thought he was asleep he'd stop.
"Tom! I have something to say. It's important."
He stayed quiet for another moment and Lucas let out the longest and most exhausted sigh he had ever heard.
He was about to reply "Fine, What is it?" when he realised that his friend hadn't breathed back in again.
It happens that way sometimes. Blood poisoning. There had been no surgeons in the camp, no one to treat them but regular Joes. Even if they had known to amputate they had nothing with which to do it.
Tom turned over in his bed facing away from the dead man and thought that after this beastly war was over he would take up fishing. Such a calm, peaceful, harmless pastime. No shooting for him.
x
Tom wasn't in Germany anymore when he awoke. Actually, he didn't know where he was. He only knew that he didn't want to be there. Two people were talking nonsense. Absolute nonsense. They might of well have been speaking in a foreign language for all he understood. They were dressed equally ridiculously. Madmen, the both of them.
Had he been kidnapped? He couldn't remember a thing: had no idea how he came to be here. They were underground, surely. From his position on the ground that's all he could really tell. It was mostly dark, and the light was only enough to illuminate the startling face of one of the men.
If it was a man. With a face like he had he would have fit right in at a circus. It was un-human, almost serpentine.
"Ah, hello there Tom," said the man with the eerie face. Now that he had heard him speak he wasn't sure if it was a man after all. The voice had been soft and high pitch, like that of a woman.
Except women's voices didn't frighten him. This man's did, and he had only said hello.
"How... how do you know my name? Where am I?"
The man ignored Tom's question and began somehow illuminating the cavern. How, Tom couldn't tell. Perhaps there was a switch somewhere. The more frightening man dismissed his subordinate and turned his startling (red?) eyes on him.
Tom scrambled to his feet and tried to escape, but he tripped over things in the attempt. He was overtaken by horror and disbelief when he saw what had trammelled him. Bodies. He couldn't see them well but they looked to be the size of children. Dead, all of them.
Truly terrified now, not just nervous and scared like before he turned back to the mutant man. He didn't want to look and yet he couldn't help it.
"I'm afraid I can't let you leave," he said and pointed a stick at him. When he felt himself fly into the air he thought he finally understood. He was dreaming. It was just a dream. A bad dream. He just needed to wake himself up.
The dream didn't seem to end; it only got worse and worse. He was bound by fire, and the man did the most frighteningly impossible things he had ever seen. Pain was the only thing he was really aware of. His brain had rejected all other information as impossible and unimportant. The man kept talking but Tom didn't hear a word of it. This seemed to anger the pale snake man further who somehow made the pain increase to an unendurable level for a time before it would back down, and he only had the burning to worry about, which was pain enough for him.
'Poor girl,' was the last real thought that he remembered having. He knew she was probably going to suffer like him and he pitied her. So young and innocent looking she was.
The scene was strange and yet familiar. A white room, an uncomfortable bed, and four men. It took a moment for understanding to set it, and another moment for Lily to determine whether she was Lily or Tom. Once she had come to the conclusion that she was, in fact, a girl named Lily Evans and that this was a scene in her own life she looked around.
She was only half disappointed to find herself in the Hospital Wing. Yes it was the hospital wing but that also meant she was back in Hogwarts, and on top of that all four marauders were there too. Peter was sitting on a bed biting his nails; Remus, sitting on a chair next to Peter, hung his head so that his dank hair hung limply over his face. Sirius, arms crossed tightly, was taking long powerful strides that took him back and forth from the hospital wing doors to the potion cupboards at the other end of the room. James occupied the chair next to her bed, the messy head of hair that so became him rested gently on the side of her mattress. His eyes were closed but she doubted he slept. His breaths weren't those deep rhythmic inhalations and exhalations that indicated slumber. They were quicker, less steady and interspersed with the occasional sigh.
She reached a hand out to run it through his hair, winding her fingers through those wonderful half curls. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth up. His eyes opened and his smiled widened; not a radiant smile of shiny white teeth but one of relief and contentment, like a mother's after giving birth. She moved the fringe away from his forehead.
"Hallo love," he said in a voice as soft as his smile.
"Hey yourself," she tired to reply but her throat was so sore and dry she couldn't get the words out.
She frowned at this and touched her throat.
"Madame Pomfrey!" James summoned loudly. His shout not only brought the healer to her bedside but the other three men as well. "She has no voice," James told her.
"No wonder, the way she was screaming," said Sirius, his terse and complaining tone belied by his twinkling eyes. "Welcome back, Cariad," he added after a moment, ruffling her hair.
Madame Pomfrey poured a burning potion down her throat which, for all its unpleasantness seemed to wash away all the detritus that blocked it, leaving a smooth protective coat and a minty after taste.
"Much better," she declared after the potion had taken its full effect. Her smile fell. She had been momentarily sidetracked by everyone's smiles. "I need to speak to Dumbledore," she said quickly, sounding almost panicky.
She happened to be looking at Remus when she said this. He nodded as if he had been ordered and said "I'll get him," and walked out of the room.
"What happened? What did he do to you?" James asked.
"Wait. I don't want to have to go through it again when Dumbledore gets here."
"But he didn't... that is... you are alright, aren't you? You aren't..." He didn't finish his query nor did he need to.
"Cursed anew?" she asked. "No. Just... addled," she paused. "A bit."
"I told you!" cried Sirius, pointing triumphantly at James. He then turned to Lily. "What did he do?"
Lily shuddered at the truth. She'd have rather faced another minute of the cruciatus curse than what Voldemort had actually done. "He... extended my life," she said shamefully.
By the looks on everyone's faces, she could tell they didn't believe her. It was an outrageous idea, of course. She knew that. They clearly thought that her brain really had been addled and she had lost her wits... yet again.
"He what?" asked Peter, who had been staring at Lily as he shook his head quickly as if to shake away the confusion in his brain.
"He took someone else's life and gave it, well, part of it, to me."
"How?" Sirius' question contained, to Lily's mind, just about equal amounts of curiosity and scepticism.
"Do let's wait for Dumbledore," she begged.
When Remus arrived with the headmaster a few moments later she reluctantly began her story. She told them nearly everything; about Nagini, the dead goblins, Voldemort baiting poor Tom before killing him, saying that she may still be useful. With growing shame she told them of how Voldemort had tried to get her to join him (again) and explained all about the stone. All eyes were fixed on her. She didn't know who to look at as she spoke so she directed the majority of her story down at her sheets, which she twisted in her hands as she spoke.
"I don't know how he did it. He didn't just kill Tom, he... he ripped the life out of him. He kept it in the stone and then he," she stopped to control her breath and contain the several conflicting emotions that kept trying to interfere with her speech. "Then he shared it with me," she finished finally.
"What was it like?" came Sirius' voice. She couldn't tell from the way he said it how he felt about it, his drawl masked almost everything with indifference the way Miranda Gasche's had. She chanced a look up at him. His eyes were squinted slightly in calculation, but something unnerving shone from under his lashes.
She took her time in responding, considering the various answers she could give. Terrible, wretched, awful, repulsive, wonderful... Since she was too ashamed to answer Sirius honestly she wouldn't answer at all. "I really don't want to talk about it," she responded. That was the truest of them all. "He said I would join him will or nil. Either in his army or in his stone and gave me til morning to decide. Thankfully James and Sirius found me before then."
She hoped that the two men hadn't already told the others the truth behind her escape. Judging by the identical troubled frowns and everyone else's credulous looks she gathered they hadn't.
No one wanted that little secret out. Sirius out of hatred and hurt pride, James for Lily's sake, and Lily for her own.
She continued, "After we escaped I fell asleep and relived parts of Tom's life."
"You mean Tom the murdered muggle?" Dumbledore asked for clarification.
"Yes," she replied, slightly confused. What other Tom could she be talking about? She didn't divulge the poor man's private past, the things that had no bearing on anything but his own life. She did recount what the man had been through and how he came to be in the power of the dark lord deep in the mines. The poor man had stumbled across the dementors and had been taken down to be used as the first trial of the stone's power. She didn't mention the cruciatus curse. The fact the Voldemort tortured a muggle wouldn't surprise anyone, wouldn't help anyone, and would only make the others feel bad for her.
x
Having finished telling all she took her wand from the bedside and put the tip to her temple. James was surprised to see, not the usual wisp of a silver strand but a deep red one, thick and pulsing. James grimaced. It was almost sickening to look at.
"Can something be done with this? I don't want it in my head." Dumbledore took out his own wand and put it tip to tip with Lily's. Like someone slurping up a spaghetti noodle, the thing was sucked into Dumbledore's wand, wriggling all the way.
James was quite amazed by this. Sucking up a dream was not just a tribute to Dumbledore's power but also that of his wand. James looked to his own pocket and saw the tip of wood sticking out. He doubted his could do something like that. He always thought magical prowess had entirely to do with the wizard himself. It never occurred to him that one wand may be better, stronger, more capable than another.
Something Olivander said to him over a decade ago came back to him. "The wand chooses the wizard, my boy. Not the other way around." James remembered wanting a wand with a dragon heartstring for a core, not the phoenix feather he was given. "Wands suit their owners, Mr. Potter. Yours is a fine wand. I dare say you will be excellent in Transfiguration..."
At the time, James (spoiled brat that he was) had wanted to then take both wands. He hadn't been best pleased to hear that his wand was good for transfiguration. At the time he thought it un-cool. Now, of course, he loved his wand and was extremely proud of it.
But if wands were truly meant to match their owners did that mean the more powerful wizards ('or witches' he added in fairness to people like Lily and Minerva) had more powerful wands? If that were, in fact the case James imagined Dumbledore's wand would be a rather frightening weapon no matter who wielded it, and particularly when the owner himself did.
James grinned to himself. Lily's wand's core was unicorn hair. 'It would be,' he thought amusedly. Olivander must be right. Willow with unicorn hair, excellent for charm work, Lily's wand suited her perfectly, just as she suited him perfectly.
All of a sudden he wanted everyone to leave so he could be alone with her, hold her tight against him and never ever let her go off and do something dangerous ever again.
Sirius' words penetrated his love addled brain and he knew the truth. Lily wasn't his. She belonged to a cause far greater than any one person. While it was a slightly painful point to concede he knew it to be true. He had to be prepared to give her up at anytime. His only consolation was that he would never lose her to another man. Only Death could make a claim on her as strong as James'.
She had said she was going to die for the cause and James had slowly began to understand what she meant, just as he knew that he would die for her. She was his cause. He only hoped that day wouldn't come soon.
He had been selfish to want to keep her to himself. Selfish and stupid. But she wasn't fighting now, so it shouldn't be a problem...
"Where's Hagrid?" she asked. James shook his head to clear his thoughts and reply but Sirius beat him to it.
"He's working. His shift with Marlene today. Oh and don't worry, I met with Euphrates, sorted everything out. Dumbledore and Moody have arranged for someone to prepare a weekly update for him to read, you know, to protect the identities of order members."
"You met with Weyland? What day is it? How long have I been here?"
"The 9th," Remus replied. You've been here 3 days and 3 nights. Hagrid was here though; he had only just left when you awoke."
"Oh," she said quietly, saying no more as Dumbledore left and Madame Pomfrey returned to shoo the rest of them out. After they had each given her (Lily not Madame Pomfrey) a kiss on the head they trailed out. She grabbed James' sleeve and whispered pleadingly, " Come back to me. Use the cloak or something but come back to me."
Her eyes were shining and she looked slightly worried, as if she were afraid he wouldn't. James chuckled.
"I'd planned on it anyway," he reassured quietly. Madame Pomfrey had one eagle eye on them from across the wing so he forwent kissing her and just gave her an old fashioned marauder wink before he left.
When James entered Lily's common room he found his three friends already there waiting for him. He didn't wonder at how they got in, Lily had said the password in front of them all on Boxing day two weeks ago. That aside Sirius probably knew it from before anyway. He convinced himself that this fact didn't bother him before greeting them all.
Sirius and Remus had just started a game of muggle chess when a sliver phoenix shot into the room, bidding them all come at once. They complied immediately of course, finding Minerva McGonagall already there.
"Just had word from Hagrid. Marlene McKinnon failed to turn up for her shift."
"I'll go to Hagrid," Sirius volunteered immediately.
"I'll check on Marlene," said James.
Dumbledore nodded and it was decided that Remus would go with Sirius and Peter likewise with James.
x
They knew before they even entered the McKinnon home the reason she hadn't met Hagrid. They dark mark floated above her house, green and malevolent, bright and foreboding. The same way it had floated over his own house two weeks ago.
Inside was the testament to what he already knew. Marlene and her family lay in a row, each one with a similar look of frozen horror on their respective faces. A quick sweep of the house told him he and Peter were the only live ones in the house, the Death Eaters had already gone. Peter's face was dark and James could tell he was trying to keep it set. He failed however, because a dimple appeared and disappeared as he chewed the inside of his cheek.
For some reason James didn't want to leave the McKinnons alone while he fetched magical Law Enforcement. 'Silly that,' he chastised himself. 'They can't get any deader. What can you protect then from now? Fool.'
He put a hand on Wormtail's shoulder. "I'm off to London. You'll tell Dumbledore?"
Peter nodded and was gone with a pop.
When he arrived at the office he knocked on Moody's door but there came no reply.
"He's gone," came a soft voice from behind him. He turned to face her. "What's wrong?"
"I need to see Moody," he said simply.
"He went to Hogwarts. I assumed he went to see you. Is everything alright?"
"No. Everything's never alright. There is always something going wrong at any given time," he complained. He knocked (punched rather) Moody's door again, of course in no real attempt to summon the head auror, but simply because pounding things made him feel better.
Agatha put a loving hand on his back to calm him but it only caused him to withdraw from her angrily, not because he was touching him, but because she did make him feel better and that wasn't right. He knew who he actually wanted to see but she was stuck in a hospital bed... 'Still waiting for me to return under the cloak.'
He went to his desk and began working.
Dumbledore brought Alastor Moody in to see her a few minutes later, and she unfortunately had to go through it all again. With Dumbledore's help in filling the blanks she managed to get through it. Moody declared he was going back to the ministry and left. To Lily's surprise, Dumbledore didn't.
'Ah,' she thought as Dumbledore explained. 'That's why James hasn't come back.' She hoped Marlene would be ok, but she was filled with foreboding. It looked as if the others wouldn't be back to see her anytime soon...
Crepuscule. The colours blended beautifully and Sirius might have appreciated the sunset had he not been busy duelling. It was a rather distracting activity. He didn't know where Remus or Hagrid were. He hoped they were faring better than he was. Upside down and dangling in the air he suffered through the taunting.
"Not so funny now, is it Black!" his opponent hissed angrily. His enemy was too busy being bitter that Sirius had time to counter attack, catching him off guard. He fell to the ground and just had enough time to pick himself up before he blocked another incoming barrage of curses.
xxx
"You go on, you're faster. Don't wait for me. Tell Dumbledore," Sirius said to Hagrid. The half giant took off and quickly outstripped Sirius.
The death eaters had left once the next shift arrived, leaving them outnumbered. Remus had gone to the Ministry to tell Moody.
Once Hagrid was gone from view inside the castle Sirius stopped running and looked to see if anyone was around. So long no one could see he allowed himself to limp. He wondered if there was a bone in his body left un-bruised.
Severus Snape. Sirius was more sure of himself than ever in his opinion of the slime-ball. All his aching limbs were his fault. Lily had once said that loving her didn't make you a good person, and that was certainly true. Snape, he knew, was a sneaky bastard, and he must of tricked a young, innocent, pure hearted Lily into thinking he wasn't a rotten person and naive and stupid creature she had been, she had believed him. That was the only explanation. Had to be. This thought only angered Sirius more. "Damn Severus Snape."
He was walking towards the hospital wing without even realising it, and was ashamed of himself until he saw Lily there and realised that he had a legitimate excuse for coming. He was just visiting Lily, he neither wanted nor needed medical attention for himself.
"Evening Cariad," he greeted, characteristic smile set firmly in place.
"You are back!" she said getting out of bed to go to him. Madame Pomfrey gave her a glare, but Lily sent one right back. "Thank you for your help Madame Pomfrey, I'll be leaving now," she declared. She linked arms with Sirius and they strode out of the hospital wing. "Just been waiting for a reason to leave," she confessed. "How are you?"
"Blooming," he replied. "Never better."
"And how was it?"
"Oh, nothing too terribly exciting," he said easily. "Waited for hours and hours. Death Eaters finally came but of course we were victorious." Though a rather Pyrrhic victory, in Sirius' opinion.
"Oh."
Sirius didn't really like when she replied like that. It was too ambiguous a sound and he had difficulty interpreting it. "Oh?"
"Well, I was hoping you knew something about Marlene."
"No, that was Prongs' charge. He hasn't come back yet?"
Lily shook her head sadly.
"Ah." Sirius fished out the mirror. "Prongs."
His friend's exhausted face appeared. "Hey Padfoot."
"You alright?"
"Fine." Sirius suspected that James was 'fine' in the same way Sirius was 'fine' though he didn't persue the matter in front of Lily.
"And Marlene?"
"Dead. The rest of the family too. In London now."
"Moony make it there aright?"
"Yeah, he's in there with Moody now. Already heard the story. You alright?"
"Fine."
"Right then. I'll let you go. I should get back to work. I want to finish here as soon as I can."
"Talk later."
"Thanks Padfoot."
After Sirius had replaced the mirror Lily asked said the password to her common room. Once they were both inside she asked, "Thanks for what?"
"For checking in I suppose," he said shrugging. "Well, you can rest at ease knowing he's fine."
"What about the McKinnons?"
"What about them?"
"Sirius, they just died!"
"Exactly, so there isn't exactly a lot we can do, is there?"
"I guess you are right."
"What?" Sirius asked, confused. "You weren't supposed to say 'I guess you are right,' you are supposed to start getting angry for me being callous about death and try to lecture some proper feeling into me," he said as she tucked the blanket around him and fluffed the pillows. He didn't even remember getting in bed. How did she do that?
"I guess you are right about that too." She was rummaging around in her wardrobe and came back out with a bottle of something, which she handed to him.
"What is this?"
"For the pain."
"I'm not in pain," he lied adamantly. He didn't want anyone to know that he had come out worse in a duel with Snape. That would be more painful that his current discomfort. But lying down in a bed did feel wonderful. It was difficult to keep his eyes open let alone argue. Difficult, but certainly not impossible. He would continue to do both until Lily believed him. She gave him a disapproving motherly look.
"Then it will make you sleep." Sirius knew she couldn't be trusted. She would tell him anything to make him take it. Well he wasn't about to. That would be admitting to something shameful.
"I'm not tired."
"Very well," she said putting the bottle down on the bedside table and lying on top of the covers next to him. "Shall I tell you a story?"
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Treating me like a child. I'm fine, Evans." He began to pull the blankets and get up but she put a hand on his arm to stop him. He didn't know why but it worked. It was just a light touch, not nearly enough force to keep him there if he wanted to get out, but it seemed a powerful symbolic gesture that kept Sirius where he was.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what to do with myself. Just let me feel like I'm helping. Just for a little bit and then I'll let you go. I won't keep you after that, I promise."
Sirius studied her for a moment and settled himself back into the pillows. It seemed very like something she would say. She was the type that took comfort in taking care of others. "Are you alright?"
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise," he said automatically, before realising that he had probably cut her off from the rest of what she was going to say.
"It's just… well Moody and Dumbledore told me what happened and I've been stuck in the hospital wing all day with nothing to do but worry. I couldn't help you at all and now that you've come back I just wanted to… I don't know... be helpful to you somehow. After you all waited for me for three days. You were good enough to go see Weyland for me. And I never properly thanked you for getting me out of the mines."
"Snape did that."
"You would have eventually if he hadn't." True, Sirius thought, they had arrived the moment Snape had. If it had been anyone else, or if Snape hadn't let her out, he and James certainly would have. She began playing with the tips of his hair. "Thank you."
Sirius didn't know how to reply. Would it sound superior and condescending to say "That's right. You're welcome'? He thought it might, not that he ever cared about sounding superior and condescending in the past. It seemed out of place now. It be a bit ridiculous to try to act smug when you were in pain, lying flat on your back with a woman playing with your hair.
"Nothing you wouldn't have done for me," he said, then added quickly. "For either of us." She was running her nails gently across his scalp, under his hair. Oh heaven.
She began humming and Sirius felt himself slip away. Curse her she was trying to make him fall asleep. Sneaky woman, but whether she had his best interest in mind or hers, he couldn't tell. Not that it really mattered. It would turn out just the same either way.
"Cariad, are you doing this on purpose?" he asked. He was perfectly capable of staying awake and having a debate with his eyes closed, so he didn't see any reason why he couldn't rest them.
"Mmhmm," she answered before continuing with her tune.
"Very well. It won't work you know. I'm just pretending to play along because you asked me to."
"I know. You are a dear, thank you." Surprisingly, it barely hurt his pride knowing that Lily knew perfectly well he was lying. At least she had the decency to ignore it. He wondered if she treated Prongs this way. No, she probably treated him in a manner more fitting Prongs. She probably treated everyone the way they secretly wanted to be treated.
When he woke a few hours later she was gone. She was probably in Prongs' room with him by then. He looked to the clock but it was blocked from view by the potion Lily had tried to make him drink. He moved the bottle out of the way. Only 10; he hadn't been asleep for that long. He groaned thinking of work tomorrow and the growing list of things he had to do. Rolling his eyes at himself for what he was about to do, he uncorked the bottle and downed it. He felt his muscles relax even more and the pain heat up and slowly fade away as he fell back asleep.
x
Up in the astronomy tower Lily pondered. If Voldemort had absorbed Tom would he too possess aspects of Tom's life and memory? It seemed likely. Or perhaps he knew how to block out unwanted thoughts. That seemed even more likely.
Too bad she couldn't.
Marlene.
How many more of them would end up the same way? Why was it that everyone seemed to die? She knew that was a foolish line of thinking. Everyone died eventually. People were being killed everyday. But it always felt worse when you knew them. And Marlene was an order member. A member of their team now gone. Lost. She hadn't really spoken much to Marlene outside the Prewitt's party two weeks ago, but she felt the loss. She couldn't cry about it though. With each death she seemed to grow colder to the outside world and warmer to those she was close to. The area between her inner circle and outer world seemed to grow larger and larger. She wanted to keep her close ones close, and keep the others further away. She drew her arms around her for warmth and wished James were with her now.
She lay on her back and considered the stars twinkling innocently. So far removed from their current troubles. They hung in the sky as they always had. This was just another night for them, twinkling prettily and patiently listening to all the wishes thousands of children made on them, completely unable to make them come true.
"I thought you might be up here," came a voice, wonderfully warm and low.
She glanced towards James then turned grinning to look back up at the stars. Perhaps they weren't that useless after all...
