A/N: I'm baaaaaaack.
I don't anticipate many, if any, of my old readers to be reading this. It's been almost six years since I abandoned this story. SIX. But if, by some miracle, you still have your email notifications on: welcome back and I am so sorry. Truly. I left when I was having a hard time just...living my life and needed to focus on myself and my education, so I don't regret the choice I made, but, at the same time, I am apologetic to those of you who followed and loved this story. I would be forever grateful for your forgiveness, if you'd be gracious enough to give it to me.
Right now, the world is on coronavirus lockdown. I am one of the few who is lucky enough to be able to work from home (I'm a math teacher now, if anyone is wondering) and to use this self-isolation time to entertain and educate myself. Not everyone has this privilege (some are essential workers, some are worried about holding onto enough money to survive this, etc.) and I'm well aware of how blessed I am. I thought to myself, what better way to spend my time than finally finishing this story?
Obviously, I've grown and matured in many ways these past six years. There are aspects of this story that I hate now, other aspects that make me cringe. However, I am taking that in stride. This is still my pride and joy and it's still in the back of my mind on a regular basis. Charlotte deserves an ending, and I'm going to write in the style of my sixteen-year-old self, as best as I can, to give it to her.
Thank you for reading the world's longest author's note. If you are still here, on Chapter 47, whether old reader or new, I love you.
So, without further ado, here continues the story of Charlotte Elizabeth Witte and Sirius Orion Black.
Seventh year was just as interesting as I had anticipated.
For one thing, the classes were absurdly difficult. It turned out that the school had absolutely no mercy and did not concern itself with trivial matters such as the fact that it was our last year at Hogwarts and we would have liked to enjoy ourselves. I was so up to my ears in spells and facts and dates I hardly had a minute to do anything other than schoolwork. I could swear I once heard poor Lily muttering potion ingredients in her sleep.
For another thing, although the amount of learning being shoved into our brains was painful, my friends and I found that there were moments during which we did, in fact, enjoy ourselves. Sitting at the Gryffindor table, for example, watching as nervous, red-faced little first years stumbled over their own feet as they waited to be sorted was bittersweet. It was sad, of course, knowing I'd never again see them turn pale white the second the hat dropped over their eyes, but surreal noticing the amazement in their tiny faces as they gazed at us, their grown counterparts. One particularly brave new Gryffindor excitedly asked me if it was true she'd learn how to levitate things before the Christmas holidays, and the pure joy on her face when I said yes reminded me just how much I loved this place and how happy I was to be here.
A large part of my happiness obviously stemmed from the fact that I had the privilege of walking the halls with Sirius' hand in mine, that I could write my papers in front of the fire with his head in my lap as he read some textbook. There were days, rare and wonderful days, during which there was a miraculous lull in our schoolwork and we had a couple magical hours to ourselves. We'd kiss until we couldn't breathe or, as was recently more likely, curl up together for a nap, every bit of us so intertwined that we'd wake up with wrinkles from the other's shirt indented in our skin. Life as a Hogwarts seventh year in love was difficult, but I would be lying if I said it wasn't perfect.
Lily, on the other hand, would probably disagree.
One particular October evening, a little over a month since classes had begun, Lily and James came clambering through the portrait hole the way they normally did after their Head Boy and Head Girl rounds - James was grinning smugly to himself and Lily looked flustered, her facial expression somewhere between pained and frightened.
"Good evening, lowly common folk," James crooned, sauntering over to where the rest of us were frantically attempting to finish all of our homework for the next day and throwing himself backwards onto the couch. He put one arm behind his head and grinned, "Your Head Boy has arrived,"
Everyone, accustomed to this typical introduction and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of our attention, barely paid him any mind as he puffed up his chest and continued speaking, unbothered.
"You'll never guess what noble act I have performed tonight," he wiggled his eyebrows.
"You did everyone a favor and got over yourself?" Isabelle muttered from where she was struggling over an Ancient Runes assignment, not even looking up from the dense pile of charts in front of her.
"Of course not," James chirped, still unfazed, "Today, my friends, I rescued Mrs. Norris," he announced, and smirked, satisfied, when we all finally looked up at him, amazed.
"What did you do that for?" Sirius asked, sitting straight up and staring at his best friend with such shock it was as if he didn't even recognize him.
"She had her paw stuck in a trick step on a staircase and instead of giving her a good kick and letting her fall to her death like my first instincts told me to,"
"You should have," Remus said bitterly, and James shot him a look for interrupting.
"I remembered the object pinned on my robes," he continued and pointed at his badge, which he shined every single day, "and the code of honor I have pledged to follow, and I set her free,"
"Lily, is this true?" Sirius turned on Lily, who had plopped down next to me and placed a weary hand on her forehead.
"Unfortunately," she nodded, looking as if she might be ill. The others assumed her disdain was for Mrs. Norris' undeserved sympathy, but I knew better - she was shaken by how much compassion James had shown for yet another innocent creature. I glanced at her red cheeks and smirked, and she briefly shot daggers at me with her eyes and went back to rubbing her temples.
"Hey, all cats deserve love, no matter how infuriating they may be," James held his hands up in mock defense.
"Speaking of cats," Peter piped up, "Did you happen to see Bernard while on your rounds?"
"You lost him again?" Mary asked, and each one of us looked at Peter, who was now staring at his hands in embarrassment, with exasperation.
"That's the third time this week!" Scarlett said, astonished.
"He doesn't seem to like me very much," Peter shrugged sadly, and Sirius gave me a knowing look. I almost smiled until I noticed how genuinely upset Peter seemed about his lack of companionship with his new pet.
"We didn't see him, Peter, but I'll keep an eye out. I'm sure he'll show up soon enough," Lily said kindly, clearly taking note of the same.
"Yeah, cheer up, mate! He always does, doesn't he?" James nudged Peter with his elbow playfully, and Lily scowled again.
"I have to go," she said abruptly, standing up and turning on her heel towards the staircase without so much as a goodbye. Sirius glanced at me again, as did Remus this time. James was now pestering Mary, who was trying to shoo him away so she could finish her homework, with questions about Quidditch practice, oblivious to Lily's absurd behavior. I reckoned he was so used to her looking nauseated around him after so many years of blatant dislike that he hadn't attributed her more recent attitude to anything noteworthy.
I hastily scribbled a couple of subpar sentences at the bottom of the Herbology paper I'd been struggling to finish for the past half hour and blew the ink dry before rolling the scroll up and shoving it in my bag. I stood, hoisting the strap over my shoulder.
"I'm going to turn in as well," I announced, and everyone grunted in response, not glancing up from their own assignments, or, in James' case, the Quidditch magazine he had pulled out of the sofa cushions.
I headed towards the steps and Sirius came running up behind me, arcing his fingers around my waist to stall me.
"Going to knock some sense into her?" he asked quietly, and I nodded, glancing up in the general direction of the dormitories.
"I'm going to try to talk some sense into her, yes,"
"Good. The tension is driving me mad. Not that Prongs needs another reason to gloat," he sniffed towards the fire, where James was now flipping pages with one hand and polishing his badge on his robes with the other, "but gloating about Lily would be better than this. I would tell him myself to make a move, but I don't think you want to go with someone who's bald at seventeen," he winced, touching the back of his head. I paused, unsure what he was talking about, then remembered Lily's pretend curse from the year before and laughed, amazed that he was still convinced she'd make his hair fall out if he interfered with her blossoming relationship. He furrowed his eyebrows at me, "Why are you laughing?"
"Oh, nothing," I smiled, "Just picturing you without a head of hair, is all," I lied, and he frowned at me, placing both hands on his skull.
"That's not funny,"
"I think it is," I teased, then placed a hand on his chest and stood on my toes for a kiss, which he happily returned, "Goodnight, Sirius," I said quietly, turning towards the stairs.
"Goodnight, Lottie," he replied, "Good luck up there,"
I saluted in response and walked upstairs and into the dormitory, shutting the door behind me and dropping my bag at the foot of my bed. Lily was face down on her mattress, hands clenched at her sides, and didn't even flinch when I sat down next to her and poked her between the shoulder blades.
"Are you okay?" I said hesitantly, and immediately recoiled when she flipped over angrily and crossed her arms over her chest with a slight "humph". I raised a single eyebrow at her and she groaned, uncrossing her arms and curling up into a ball instead, her cheek on my knee.
"No," she whispered.
"Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?" I urged, "You're making yourself miserable,"
"How can I?" she asked sadly, looking up at me with large eyes, "He was awful, do you know that?"
"I-" I tried to speak, but she cut me off, gathering steam.
"To Severus. He was awful. I know Severus isn't the kindest himself, you don't have to say it, but James never even gave him a chance. Severus was never the kind to talk about his feelings, but I know that the way James treated him really hurt him. He never knew love at home and hoped Hogwarts would bring him lifelong friends, a group of people he could call his family, and instead he was mercilessly taunted by some of the most popular boys in school. Can you imagine?"
"No, but-"
"And don't think I'm defending the way he is now. I'm not. But did he really deserve that when he was eleven years old? He was just a kid,"
"Lily," I finally managed to break in, "James was just a kid, too," As much as I pitied Snape for his unreciprocated feelings, it wasn't enough to excuse his actions or make me take his side in what was to him, though unbeknownst to Lily, a competition for her affection. The truth of the matter was Lily had feelings for James, and I wasn't about to allow Snape to be the reason why she hid them for the rest of her life.
"Does he treat him any differently now?" she retorted.
"Yes!" I retorted back, and she scoffed, "Not perfectly, but differently, yes. He's matured," I hesitated, reflecting on all the Head Boy pompousness that had just occurred in the common room, "Somewhat. You can't deny that the tormenting subsided significantly after the whole m-word situation. Besides, wouldn't you agree that anything he says to Sn-I mean, Severus, now is well-deserved? For all you know, if Severus had turned out to be an incredible person James would have left him alone a while ago,"
"What if James is the reason he couldn't turn out to be an incredible person?" she asked, her voice barely over a whisper, and she looked so incredibly distressed I could feel my heart clench. I had never before realized how morally conflicted Lily's feelings for James made her feel, or even that her refusal to give in to her emotions stemmed mostly from her failed friendship with Snape.
I knew they were best friends. We were always close, but even our relationship was nothing compared to hers with Snape. They were basically glued at the hip if not in their respective common rooms. If we were in the library, she estimated how many hours she needed to study for and left to work with him about halfway through her projected time slot. She ate Saturday meals with us, Sunday meals with Snape, and alternated meals during the school week. Maintaining her friendships with everyone she was close to was important to her and she never would have jeopardized a relationship with her roommates for one person, but it was always very clear to the rest of us that he was very important to her.
He was her first real friend, after all. She had had friends in Muggle elementary school just like I did - my mother had really wanted me to experience "normal" school until I went off to Hogwarts - and that dreadful Petunia at home, but she once told me in confidence that she had never truly felt understood until the day Snape walked out of the woods and into her life. They began to drift apart as we grew older, when he became closer to his Slytherin friends and more interested in the Dark Arts than Lily would have ever liked to admit, but when he called her a slur in front of everyone she was devastated.
I think a part of her, even as their friendship weakened, always hoped he would come to his senses and realize what he was doing was wrong, and when he called her a word that stood against everything she believed in her hopes came crashing down. It was as if he had officially, irrevocably chosen that part of his life over her. She tried to pretend like she wasn't affected, but we could all hear her cry that night when she thought we were asleep. It wasn't until now that I realized she felt guilty, through her association with the Marauders, for the person Snape turned out to be and the downfall of their friendship.
"From what you've told me, he's had a taste for the dark since before we even came to Hogwarts," I said slowly, thinking out each word before I spoke it. The last thing I wanted to do was say the wrong thing, not when Lily, whose shoulder I had leaned (and cried) on so many times, was opening up to me more than ever before. Close as we were, she was like a mother in many ways, particularly in that she was always there to comfort anyone who needed it, but bottled up her own problems, not wanting to burden anyone with them.
"Yes, because that's what his family taught him. He didn't know any better,"
"That's what Sirius' family taught him, too," I replied, and Lily opened her mouth and closed it again, her eyes widening, "But unlike Severus, he wasn't interested in it even when it was in all of his bedtime stories. Lily," I sighed, "Sirius went looking for a way out of his family history. Severus looked for a way to bury himself in it,"
"But Sirius had James to teach him what was right,"
"Sure, but Severus had you," I countered, then added, more quietly, "and if that wasn't enough, then what could have been?"
"I suppose you're right," she mumbled, the color somewhat returning to her face.
"I'm not excusing anything James and Sirius have done to him. It was awful. But they're not the children they were when that started, and now that Severus has turned into everything that they hate it's amazing they treat him as well as they do now, relatively, at least," I explained, feeling empowered by the fact that she seemed to be convinced by what I was saying.
"I never thought about it that way," she conceded.
"James is a good person, Lily," I finally concluded, and she picked at a thread on her duvet, thinking. I wished I could tell her just how good of a person he was, that he was quite possibly one of the youngest wizards in history to become an Animagus simply so that he could accompany his werewolf friend on full moons and help keep him safe. As strange as it was to admit it, James Potter was quite possibly one of the very best people I knew. He was just very capable of hiding it.
"Even if I were to admit that," she began slowly, and I held my breath, "How does a girl just transition from responding in disgust to a boy's every word to dating him?" she asked, looking perplexed.
"If I can do it, so can you," I grinned, pleased with myself for how the conversation had gone, and she finally smiled at me.
"Thanks, Charlotte," she said softly, sitting up and pulling me in for a hug.
"Does this mean you'll snog his face off now?" I couldn't resist asking. I half expected her to hit me, but she simply laughed, pushing me off of her and wrinkling her nose.
"Don't push your luck," she warned jokingly, and I stuck my tongue out before stepping off her bed and heading for the washroom.
We got ready for bed and prepared our bags for the following day in a comfortable silence. It wasn't until later, when the other girls started dragging their feet through the door, their heads drooping and bags sagging under the weight of the unfair amount of assignments they had completed that night, that we spoke again.
"I hope you allow yourself to be happy," I whispered to her just as Isabelle started wailing over a failed attempt to rip her hairbrush through a knot in her hair, her tears - which found their way into our dormitory at least once a week this year - a mixture of exhaustion and frustration.
"Me too," she smiled, right before rushing over to Isabelle to help. When the knot was gone and the tears had subsided, I went to bed as content as I could be. School was difficult, my friends were emotional wrecks and, yet, everything felt as if it were exactly how it should be.
That was easy for me to say when all my assignments were completed, before a new school day started and a whole bombardment of new assignments was thrown my way. By the time I finished all of my classes the day after my talk with Lily, I was in a horrid mood and was seriously contemplating dropping out of Hogwarts and spending the rest of my life selling beetle eyes from a cart on the side of Diagon Alley.
After a surprise examination in Defense Against the Dark Arts, which I was fairly certain I failed miserably, and a decision to skip lunch after realizing I couldn't possibly turn in my Herbology paper the way I had hurriedly finished it the night before, I had been so ready to go back to my dormitory and take a much-needed nap before a much-needed dinner. I realized, however, that I had been so frazzled I left my entire bag under my seat in my last class and had to turn back. The Fat Lady was already in sight but, with a grunt of frustration so loud I startled a couple of first-years scurrying towards the portrait hole, both of whom jumped several meters into the air, I turned on my heel and stomped back the way I had come.
All hopes of a substantial snooze flew out the window as I set out for the greenhouses, bitterly cursing the no-Apparating-on-school-grounds rule under my breath. The second I stepped foot on the grass and glanced around for Filch or any professors, I started Summoning the bag, hoping I was close enough that it would reach me before I actually had to walk all the way to the Herbology greenhouses. Luckily, my floating bag and I crossed paths about halfway and I clutched it out of the air, almost crying with a mixture of relief and mingling exasperation, and checked my watch. If I hurried, I could still sleep for a half hour before my friends would inevitably throw my curtains open and drag me to the Great Hall for dinner.
I was determined to make it to my sweet, sweet bed in record time, but an unpleasant scene unfolding in the corridor I was traipsing through made me falter. Nicholas Perdue was leaning over a fifth-year Hufflepuff - I think her name was Marjorie something-or-another - one hand on the wall behind her head and the other in his pocket. She was blinking up at him with doe-like eyes and twirling a lock of her curly brown hair around her finger. As I watched him whisper something to her, I felt my stomach turn.
My pillow was calling to me, but I tried to take another step and ended up turning back towards the pair instead. My Gryffindor bravado, which tended to rear its head at the most unexpected times, was stirring up inside me and I was very aware that all of the anger I had felt that day was about to come out on an unsuspecting Nicholas and his predatory actions.
"Aye!" I shouted in their direction, and they both turned their heads to look at me. Marjorie wrinkled her brow in confusion, looking me up and down, and Nicholas' eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"May I help you?" he asked through clenched teeth, clearly none too pleased to see me. Ignoring me, I looked at Marjorie and tried to look as normal and compassionate as I could.
"You really don't want to do this," I told her, glancing towards Nicholas, who was now fuming, "He's not a very nice person, I can promise you that,"
She looked from me to him, not looking entirely convinced. He gave her a sickeningly sweet smile and she hesitated before looking back at me.
"I reckon I can find out for myself, thanks," she dismissed me and Nicholas smirked, pleased with himself.
"She's just jealous," he whispered to her much too loudly, and I rolled my eyes, reluctantly resorting to my back-up plan. I flicked my wand in the direction of his face and he instantly broke out in angry, purple boils - as much as I wouldn't have liked to admit it, inspired by the ones Cecilia Albert accidentally ended up with the day of the prank - and he stumbled backwards, away from Marjorie, his hands clutching his lumpy face.
"ARE YOU MENTAL, YOU BITCH?!" he shrieked.
"MISTER PERDUE," a stern, angry voice said loudly from the other end of the corridor, and the smile slid right off my face as I turned to see Professor McGonagall striding quickly towards us. Marjorie took one last glance at the situation in front of her and slinked away, breaking into a nervous half-jog as she turned the corner.
"Professor McGonagall, look at what she did to my face!" Nicholas whined, tearing his hands away to look at Professor McGonagall, who winced visibly as she took in his appearance.
"Be that as it may, I do not tolerate such derogatory language," Professor McGonagall scolded, subconsciously placing a hand on her own cheek, "5 points from Ravenclaw,"
"But-" Nicholas tried to argue, looking furious.
"And please take yourself to the hospital wing," she continued as if he hadn't spoken.
"But Professor," he sputtered, barely containing himself, "You can't possibly allow her to get away with this!" he protested, and she looked at him sternly.
"That is not for you to decide, Mister Perdue, but you can rest assured Charlotte will be punished accordingly," she said, then looked at me, "Miss Witte, you will serve one detention. That should be plenty of time to think about what you have done," I felt relieved, certain my impulsive hex should have landed me in at least three detentions, and Nicholas sneered at me, apparently thinking the same.
"Yes, Professor," I nodded, my hands clasped at my waist. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at Nicholas when Professor McGonagall turned away from me.
"Mister Perdue, what are you still doing here?" she asked, and he started, "I thought I told you to go," she shooed him and he scampered away, shooting angry looks at me over his shoulder. I gave him a sweet wave and a wink I was certain Professor McGonagall wouldn't see, then turned to her when she sighed.
"Professor McGonagall, I-" I started to explain, but she held a hand up to stop me.
"Miss Witte, there are more acceptable ways of taking justice into your own hands," she said quietly, and I gaped, amazed.
"Oh," I said stupidly, at a loss for words.
"I trust you will choose a better option next time," she smiled, "You will serve your detention at eight tomorrow night," she said, then, with a slight pat on my shoulder, walked back in the direction she had come from.
I stared after her, frozen in place, then grinned, hoisted my bag over my shoulder and headed back to Gryffindor tower, ready for dinner, and, more importantly, ready to tell my troublemaking boyfriend all about what I had just done and how Professor McGonagall reacted to it. Sirius would be so proud.
