"G-D REST YE MERRY GENTLEMEN!" Peter emerged singing loudly from the shower. Over where he was dressing, James watched Sirius and Remus pelt him with pillows. Hands raised in defence, Peter lost his towel. James buttoned up most of a white shirt, it was easier to duel with the few top ones undone. Clapping his hands together, he smiled, "C'mon you lot, last Duelling Club of the term! NEWT demonstration and I'm going to employ that knee-reversal hex the Aurors taught us!"
"Dunno if I can go," Remus started, "We have exams next week and I need to revise more—"
"Remus...you revise more, your forehead will breakout in transfiguration formulas," Sirius said. It was funny, James thought, because Sirius and Peter were the two who seemed to begin developing pimples the colour of Gryffindor spirit.
With pillow projectile ammunition depleted, Remus leapt on Sirius.
"OH TIDINGS OF COMFORT AND JOY!" Peter finished dressing himself, tossing clean(ish) clothes Sirius' way and a combination of well folded slacks, pants, button down shirt with yellow pit stains, and robes at Remus.
James thought this wise of Peter. If Remus got himself in a jumper, the lad would spend all day cosied up by a fireplace or in the library.
Nearly the entire student body attended last Club after what happened Halloween night. James wondered if they'd show up again or, if like Remus, they would be wet-blankets about exams. Honestly, today was practice for exams. Hexes are practice for Charms, changing the silver stripes to red on Slytherin scarves was both transfiguration added spectacular holiday whimsy, the concoction he was about to put in stasis until the next Quidditch match was Potions, listening to Windsor, Xing, or some other professor teach was History of Magic, he knew it was a waxing crescent moon (Astronomy) and Remus would be on top of his game, and drawing out the duels as long as possible was both exhilarating and exercise for Quidditch.
The number of OWL students was thin, but most students returned. James got a cracking duel with Hughes and didn't even have to disarm him with a spell. When the undeserving reserve chaser's knees changed, he fell backwards and dropped it.
Lily watched Potter clutch his sides in laughter as he made a third year fall. How uncivilised, she thought. Quickly shaking off her distraction, she returned focus to Dorcas, who deflected her jelly-legs jinx. Once her friend's wand was firmly in Lily's grasp, she bowed and found a different partner in a willing third year Slytherin (not all of them outside of Severus' friends were willing to duel a girl or muggleborn; heaven forbid). She liked that they didn't go easy on her, and if they goaded her, it only fuelled her desire to snatch their wand more. When the opposing girl's wand was handed back to her, she wiped it on her robes like Lily had covered it in marmalade.
"Good job, Miss Evans!" Professor Windsor praised her. "Using a spell from Charms for distraction was cunning!...Mr. Potter! Please do put the youngest Mr. Black down at once!"
Potter had Black's younger brother hanging upside down by his ankle.
"Fancy a go, Evans? Or are you too tired yet?" Marlene put a chin on her shoulder and grinned maliciously.
Since she'd started running, Lily noticed her stamina in duelling was improving, "We've got all afternoon, McKinnon!"
The next morning, there was a competition of NEWT student duels. Less people were there. Many wanted to revise for exams (including Severus). But Lily wanted to watch and support Alice. Last week had been Hanukkah and the Prefect shared fudge from her family with the second and third year girls ("I'll regret eating all this by myself and I'm definitely not underestimating my ability to do so!").
"Ya reckon she and Frank will hafta duel?" Cari asked.
"It would certainly put him in his place," Lily hoped they would. She saw some of the boys in her year and caught Remus' eye, "Surprised you're here. Thought you hadn't memorised all the ingredients for a hiccoughing potion."
Remus pulled his too small sleeves down and smiled, "I could say the same, Miss 'What if I turn Circe's skin pigment blue and can't change it back'?" his voice mimicked higher. "James wanted to watch Frank," he shrugged.
"And I wanted to watch Alice make Frank wear his misogynistic arse for a hat," Lily explained.
"What happened with them?" Remus asked curiously. Lily knew the breakup of one of Hogwarts' sweethearts was still gossip.
"Frank's having trouble being with an independent woman. Too old fashioned. Think she's still 'promised' to be married to him but Alice won't allow that if it's not what she wants." Pureblood politics still confused Lily and she was glad that except for her blood-status, she could stay out of them.
"So 'true love' is really over then?" Remus said.
"Unless Frank can pull his head out of his arse."
"You said you wanted to see Alice stick his head up his own—"
Lily elbowed him and he stepped back in laughter.
Frank was not, in fact, paired with his ex, but rather Alice's brother, who had helped her and Remus with their essays last year. Frank won, but was later defeated by Narcissa Black who used some sort of nonverbal cutting hex amplified in strength which made him pass out from blood loss. Close to lunchtime, Black was paired with Alice in the final duel. These duels were not ones of first and second year cunning where desk legs were transfigured and tickling charms used. No, these were hard, rough, dark, and fast.
"LET'S GO GRYFFINDOOOOR!" Ginny yelled and Potter led an off colour chant. However, the room silenced when the two women bowed. Black was polite enough to wait until they'd counted to three. Shots fired. Lily caught a patched up Frank watching from a bench on top of a table pushed under the window.
The crowd began to roar again. It was much like watching Professors Xing and Windsor, or the Aurors a few weeks back. Most of their spells were nonverbal, calculated, and speedy. Although a sixth year, Alice already had a duelling style slightly similar to Windsor's. And the seventh year Slytherin fought like Lily imagined a Celtic priestess would—head high, sure feet, and elaborate movements.
Alice disarmed Black to the point of her wand clattering to the floor, but this was to defeat, not disarmament or even stunned (albeit stunning would be considered defeat). Black ducked the final blow and grasped her wand.
"Mimble Wimble!" Alice rendered Black unable to speak, so anything had to be nonverbal now. Lily cheered with Cari and Ginny.
"YEAH ALICE, FINISH HER OFF!"
"C'MON CISSY, DON'T LET HER BEAT US!" the Black brothers yelled.
Ominous chartreuse light, similar to that which hit Frank, flew towards Alice. She ducked, but not in time to miss her shoulder completely, "Agh!" the Prefect cried but cast another spell. The next one Black cast hit her wand hand with a sickening crack, which caused her to fall to the stone floor and a wand to land a several paces in front of Lily. Another cutting curse headed Alice's way and Lily covered her mouth with both her hands.
"FUCK!" an unidentified voice yelled and the crowd gasped.
"PROTEGO!" Alice lifted her injured arm as if to shield only her face but the curse was diverted from her whole body, fizzling out as it hit the shield as it wasn't strong enough to rebound. Her face turned and she reached out her non-dominant hand. For a brief moment, Lily met her determined eyes.
The crowds screams grew louder but in Lily's mind, they grew quiet as she zeroed in with fascination.
"ACCIO!" the wand near Lily's feet wobbled before shooting into Alice's outstretched hand. The wandless magic happened so fast, Black was caught off guard by the stunner shot her way from where Alice was still slumped on the ground. Slowly, wincing, she stood and bowed to the prone figure.
"RIGHT ON! RIGHT! ON!" Ginny pumped her fingers in the air. Lily came back to herself and began clapping and jumping for the victory as well.
"Wandless magic? Did she do wandless magic?" Remus asked her distantly.
"Your 1972 NEWT Duelling Club Champion!" Professor Windsor announced, raising Alice's uninjured arm. The out of breath witch stood with blood trickling down her shoulder and a split lip which tore itself further into a grin.
Lily was left wondering if she could do that someday, if she kept practicing and put in the hard work, someday.
Remus touched her arm and raised an eyebrow, "Library?"
"Sev will be there," she warned but nodded.
On their way, she was stopped by a Slytherin carrying Slug Club scrolls. None was offered to Remus, "What's that?" he queried. She hadn't planned on opening it, lest she be rude, but since he asked...
It was an invitation for her and a guest to a Holiday party next Friday night.
"So James and Sirius'll have one too, I reckon."
Lily felt bad for her friend; embarrassed too, "It says I can bring a guest. Wanna check it out?"
Remus stopped walking. Lily halted with him; she hated she couldn't read his thoughts.
"I really appreciate the offer, but I don't think I should."
"Why?" Lily questioned.
"I'll be packing to leave the next day. I don't have anything to wear. And—I doubt Severus would be too keen on us going together."
Lily waved him off, "Sev'll fine. Black's only slightly shorter than you and probably has dress robes. And I can help you pack if you need it," she offered and raised her eyebrows. "So?"
"Right, yeah, what time again?"
"Half seven," she smiled and they continued to their revision gathering.
Throughout the week, as each exam and assignment was ticked off of Remus' list, he felt slightly lighter—like his hard work was paying off. Some of the minor life details on the list he put off until the last minute, such as,
"Sirius? D'you have any dress robes that would possibly fit my figure?"
"Fit your figure?" Sirius smirked, "Whatever for, Moony?"
He flinched a little at the term meant for teasing lycanthropic endearment, but reminded him of his and Lily's spat last year.
"For Professor Slughorn's party."
Sirius shared a look with James, "You're invited to that? And you're going? We told you how ghastly the dinner was."
"Are you not going?" Remus asked. He was regretting his decision more and more.
"We have to attend McKinnon's party in less than two weeks, plus whatever Dear Mother has planned," Sirius huffed. Earlier in the week the moody raven haired boy had a row into his mirror. He'd been unable to convince Regulus to remain at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays. James was worried but Sirius had said, "I have to go home for Reg. He's not willing to stay here."
"But Sirius—there'll be more social interaction at this party than last Slug Club," James was clearly more keen on this than Sirius.
"Lily said Professor Slughorn was bringing in some Quidditch player...Robert Innisor?"
"YOU'RE GOING WITH EVANS?"
"ROBIN IZOR? I'M GOING NOW."
"Any way you can get me in?"
Shouts came his way all at once. He suggested if Peter really wanted in, there was always Polyjuice Potion he could sneak out of Professor Slughorn's stores. Yes, Robin Izor...that was the name. And yes, Lily Evans had invited him.
"So what, are you like, her date, mate?" Sirius asked.
"S-sounds like a date," Peter said.
"It's..." Remus considered, "It's whatever she wants it to be...I can't really 'date'."
"Are you in love with her?" James asked tersely.
"G-d no!" Remus replied. "We're mates is all. Bit worried Snape will bite my head off if he sees us too close."
"You could bite his head off," Sirius suggested; Remus bit his cheek.
"Why do you care?" he asked them.
"Because you're the first one of any of us to betray the oath of brotherhood with a date (it was sure to happen sometime, we are men, after all) but due to incredibly unforeseen and unfortunate circumstances, it's with Evans," James said melodramatically, "The biggest stick in the mud of our year!"
"I think that's Kathryn Brown," Sirius said.
"She likes to snog, though, I heard," James shook his head.
Remus knew Lily was no more a saint than he was. They didn't simply follow rules because they were rules, but respected the reasons behind the rules. James and Sirius tap danced on the rules because they could. Peter opened up about a choir practice story which changed James' mind.
"She did—she—huh—clothes, hair, wow—Well, she's ginger!"
Remus rolled his eyes, "Dress robes?"
After trying on all options, Sirius didn't have any robes which weren't absurdly small on him. Sighing, he got ready for his last exam, History of Magic. He looked at what was left on his list:
-Turn in HoM written assignment
-HoM exam
-Lunch w/ Prof. Windsor
-Slug Club party
-Aquire attire for Slug Club Party^
-Pack for hols
"You could wear your nicest slacks and James can transfigure your sweater vest red and green," Sirius suggested on the way to class. James agreed. That would likely have to do.
"I can't wait to get out of this exam and have our lunch with Amel!" James jittered in excitement. Their room had pushed off signing up for lunch with the Defence professor until the last possible moment. Not without resistance from James, however. But Remus still wasn't sure how he felt about him—perhaps more...watched...than by the other professors, and Sirius, while he appreciated the lessons, didn't trust the person teaching them any more; Peter waffled either direction.
Lunch with Professor Windsor and supper with Professor Slughorn's closest celebrity friends...how had Remus' social calendar filled up so much?
Remus was sorely ticked. Today's lunch didn't have his usual corned beef and cheese sandwich since someone thought a thick, hearty stew would warm up the student body from the below freezing winds the grounds were experiencing. The chunks would be big enough to grasp with his fingers, but he wouldn't eat that way in front of a teacher. So he would, perhaps, have to settle for slurping in front of his professor. James skipped, skipped, to Professor Windsor's office. Where his desk had been last time Remus was there, a huge circular table had been transfigured.
"Welcome, gentlemen," Professor Windsor bade them sit down. Remus placed himself between Sirius and James.
Things turned to shambles rather quickly.
"Aren't you hungry, Remus?" James asked so Remus tentatively slurped his stew.
"I've got an extra spoon," Professor Windsor passed his way. Remus couldn't take it. He saw realization dawn on the the man's face, as well as, embarrassment? He pulled something long and covered in silk out, "Or perhaps, some chopsticks?" Remus had never seen the dark wooden sticks before, much less manipulated them. Sirius showed him how they were supposed to work.
"Brought them from a trip to China," Professor Windsor explained.
"Were you studying dragons?" James asked.
"Indeed."
"So wait, you can use chopsticks but not silverware?" Sirius asked.
James cocked his head in thought before his eyes went wide, "Oh, silver...ware." Sirius and Peter also seemed to realise the reason behind Remus' inability to use eating utensils at the same time. The air was electrically tense. Nobody spoke until Professor Windsor finished chewing a potato, "Your friends know, then?" he asked slowly with multiple questions wrapped into one.
Peter jumped and Remus flinched. He hadn't wanted staff to know his roommates knew. That he was irresponsible with his secret. But he nodded all the same.
"We aren't going to tell anyone," James said. "Not everyone cares about Remus like we do."
"It's erm—it's probably for the best the other teachers don't know they know either," Remus fumbled with his chopsticks.
"Well, McGonagall knows that we know you know we know," Sirius said.
"Since when?" Remus was left out of the loop again. However, Professor McGonagall had not so subtly hinted that she thought it would be beneficial for them to know.
Professor Windsor chuckled, clearly amused, "It's comforting to know you've found such understanding friends."
And the subject was dropped; just like that.
The conversations turned to focus on what they wanted to learn more about in Duelling Club, they discovered Sirius' kidnapping of that blasted niffler wasn't a secret so well hidden, how cold it had been the last few weeks and an easier warming charm than carrying blue fire so they could still have a snowball war, a recommended book for sixth years James was trying to find to learn more about duelling styles...
They were more lounged when Professor Windsor used his wand to pour spiced tea from his silver pot. The conversation turned to holiday plans. Peter excitedly shared his sensible, normal, muggle traditions. James and Sirius were attending the McKinnon's Annual Christmas Eve party. Remus didn't much know what to say for his holiday (Transform into a blood-thirsty beast on the 20th? Avoid my father when he's drunk? Homework? Scrape by on porridge, potatoes, and spoiled milk?), so he kept quiet to keep attention from himself.
It didn't work this time.
"And what do you and Lyall have planned?"
The shock of hearing his father's name stunned Remus' brain for .02 seconds before sending it into overdrive.
"You know my father?" he asked.
"Worked in the same division at the Ministry before..." the tan man made a small gesture with his unoccupied hand.
"Oh," Remus had to search his brain hard for scant few memories of his father working. And talking to other people. And, "You came and visited us once or twice...after...!" He was at the backyard funeral as well! That's why he looked familiar to Remus.
Professor Windsor nodded, "A few of us tried reaching out to Lyall for a couple years. He didn't appreciate the company much in his grief."
I did, Remus wanted to say.
"So what are you doing for the holiday, sir?" Remus diverted.
"I'll be here. Ministry's too busy for me to visit Egypt," he shrugged. "I volunteered to monitor the Hogwarts Holiday Express as well, as a new safety measure."
Their lunch period was far overtime, but since they had no further exams, Professor Windsor poured each of them another cup of tea.
"Is Minister Jenkins any closer to catching Voldemort?" James asked. Several students' families were torn about whether to bring their children home for the holidays or leave them at a school which was simultaneously safe but had breakable wards.
Professor Windsor broke into a long spiel about how well the Minister handled the pureblood terrorist attacks on the Squib's Rights marches, how she was fast tracking Aurors, pulling resources from other departments...it was a polite, roundabout way of saying the Ministry wasn't close to capturing Voldemort, or even equipped to.
Somehow James managed to talk about his father's career, potions, Potions class, Professor Slughorn, then Slug Club that evening.
"R-Remus even has a d-date!" Peter was going to eat his own foot later.
"Ah, with Miss Evans, perhaps?" Remus started under the teacher's intense smile and scrutiny.
"Yes sir," he could feel the attention deepening his blush.
"We're in a bit of a bind though. He hasn't any gentlemen's robes. Perhaps you could take us to Hogsmeade village and we can look around—" James was cut off by loud laughter.
"Nice try! If you are in a pinch for attire...hmm...let me see," Professor raised his wand. A few moments later several colourful fabrics flew through the window. Robes were levitated in front of them: one bloody red, one cream, one dark blue as a new moon, and one grey. They were his teacher's robes. Remus couldn't wear those!
"Easier to transfigure fabric smaller than larger. What d'you think, James? Can the prince take his princess to the ball?"
"Maybe not a princess," Sirius muttered. Maybe not a prince, Remus thought and spluttered while James told him to wear the red one.
"I prefer the grey," Remus found words to disagree but James countered why red was so much better at attention getting. Which was exactly why Remus wasn't going to wear them.
"Grey...with a black tie," Sirius suggested, "Mint."
"A black bow tie," James said.
"Brill!" Sirius affirmed.
"M-My choir bow tie will fit! It'll be love at frost sight!"
Remus tried the robes on over his school clothes until they were transfigured down to size. The material was made from the softest cotton he'd ever felt in his life.
"Aces," James said when Professor Windsor had them just right.
"Do have a good time this evening, gentlemen. And Mr. Pettigrew, I was thinking of taking some sweet biscuits to Hagrid this evening, if you care to join. He speaks highly of you four."
Lily took a deep breath after Kitty finished adorning her face with makeup.
Her friend grinned peevishly, "You look fab. Remus is going to faun all over you on your date."
"It's not a date...like that," she said. "He wasn't going to get to go otherwise. We're just mates. Like me 'n Sev." He and those friends of his even threw snowballs at her that afternoon after she'd finished skating on the Black Lake.
"It's a date, Lils," Cari spoke.
"It's not a date! She did the asking," Marlene interjected.
"A bird can ask the bloke," Ginny interjected.
"She can?" Marlene asked.
"Ya don't 'ave to go steady, but just admit you wouldn't mind goin' on a few dates with Remus Lupin," Cari said. Truthfully, Lily didn't want to date anyone at school. She said as much, "I've never had the, you know," she gesticulated a bit desperately searching for the right words, "feelings. For anybody."
"What feelings?" Marlene asked.
Lily pondered a moment, "The heart racing, stomach summersaulting, spirit vibing, can't eat, can't think, where you could live forever with it being nothing more than he and you, riding off together into the sunset kind of feeling. Y'know, love." Lily knew on some level (which sounded a lot like her parents or Severus intermingling), that wasn't rational, especially for someone just shy of being a teenager.
"That's not what a crush feels like," Kathryn said.
"But it's terribly romantic," Cari sighed.
Lily breathed out forcefully and went to check Kitty's work in the loo. She'd done more to her face than when they went to the concert last year. The lipstick Lily purchased over the summer adorned her mouth ("Red is your power colour," Kathryn told her), black kohl and liquid mascara framed her eyelids which were dusted with purple and brown powder. Lily pinned her bangs back with a black, glittery butterfly clip. She felt ridiculous in Marlene's dress robes. She'd wanted to wear a just a dress, but had nothing suitable for the season packed. So she smoothed down the black and violet material which shimmered like fairy wings and pulled the loops at the end of the sleeves over her middle fingers to put the triangular, bat like, sleeves in place. Her ears weren't pierced for jewellery like Marlene's, but she did have her emerald locket to wear, which Kitty told her accentuated her eyes better.
Quarter past seven, she and Marlene were ready to leave. Kathryn passed Lily a peppermint "in case things got hot." They descended the stairs; Lily had to wait for Remus. A few minutes later, she could hear the boys descending the stairs before seeing them. For the first time in her life, Lily Evans' stomach did flop a bit (Blast!). Potter wore deep maroon robes with a saffron tie, Black wore silky black ones with a burgundy tie, and Remus cleaned up nicer than she'd ever seen him before in grey robes and a bow tie. She was sure his hair had some of that sleeky goop Potter kept in his hair because his curly feathers bounced with more volume than usual.
"Evenin' ladies," Potter bowed deep with a grin that could charm the giant squid. Lily wasn't too keen on showing up with him and Black, so she purposely walked slower, Remus remaining at her side.
"Dashing," she mouthed at him and got an embarrassed grin and head shake.
"You—erm—look nice."
"Nice? Nice? Moony, that's no way to woo your woman! And you write poetry for Melin's sake!" James called from ahead, "Try 'Evans, you look like a red cap and fairy had a lovechild'!"
Sirius piped up, "Or, 'Evans, those robes make you look less pink'."
"Naff off," Marlene scoffed at the fellow Quidditch players.
"McKinnon, you look like a highland war elf ready to lure dozens of men into Faerie!" James continued.
The convenient thing about dress robes, compared to muggle dresses, was they had a deep pocket for her wand.
James and Sirius didn't notice they arrived to the party with How Rud-olph me and Rebel without a Claus stuck respectively to the back of their robes. Remus smirked down at her in approval.
As hard to believe as it was, the large, once empty classroom was even more festively decorated than the rest of the school. A jazzy band played in one corner and a table of hors d'oeuvres sat in the other. The floor was charmed to look like ice, but still felt like stone. Fairy lights and icicles decorated the areas of the room which weren't covered in garland and red berries.
"Have you ever seen anything so magical?" she asked Remus in awe.
"Pretty top shelf," he looked at her as Potter and Black parted from them.
"I'm not going to be eating slugs again, am I?" Lily asked Remus and eyed his roommates. He waved a hand, "We have plans for after none of us are here." That didn't comfort her. Remus raised his eyebrows and lightly held her shoulders, "We're not breaking the rules."
While she was piling as many different foods to try on her plate as possible (Remus offered to hold the crystal platter for her), she found Severus. Or rather, Severus found her. His typically impassive eyes widened.
"Are these really genitalia from a dragon?" she asked him, pointing to rounded meat Remus told her were dragon balls.
It took him a second to speak, "They are balls of dragon meat but not their literal—uh—yeah," he stammered. "I see you found dress robes," he looked her up and down. She easily slid into telling him how Mar had loaned them to her and Kathryn did her make up, "And I've got my charm too, see?" she showed him his gift to her. Sev's previously large eyes narrowed, "It would seem you have a leech on your arm as well. What's he doing here?"
"I'm—uh—going to set this down for you," Remus turned and carried her plate away.
"He was there when I got my invitation. Wasn't fair to not invite him," she explained.
"But you. And him. Together," he hissed jealously.
"Why don't you like him? It's not like this is a date," Lily tried to placate him.
"He's messed up, Lily! You wanna know what his boggart was? Those other idiots with their guts torn out! How do you think he got those scars on his face? Now he's got his sights on you and is going to hurt you!"
Lily crossed her arms, knowing Remus wasn't like that at all. If his boggart was his roommates dead, it meant he feared losing his best mates. "I'm a big girl, Sev, I can handle myself. You know how good at defence I am."
"But he's bigger than you—"
Lily cut him off and begged, "Please, Sev, please, just tonight, can we not argue? This is meant to be a party. Happy. Groovy. Fun."
Reluctantly her best friend conceded.
She and Remus stood at a table where they ate and asked questions of a young curse breaker who worked at the Ministry.
"Is the Ministry of Magic the only place we can get jobs if we're not playing sports or teaching?" Lily asked Remus after she left.
"I won't," he muttered, "It's a safe income, no matter how remedial the job," he shrugged. "There's plenty of work for Healers, shopkeepers like you met in Diagon Alley, service jobs, magizoologists, researchers, writers and musicians...well, perhaps not them...Prostitutes," he added.
"That's grim," she pinched her lips.
"Wand to your head..." Remus started the game she had taught him, "Your only job is something you hate, or stay at home mum?"
She'd finally settled on stay at home mum rather than working on something she hated when people began dancing. Several older student couples took to the floor immediately. Many of the aristocracy danced stiffly and professionally, however Marlene and her brother twirled, leapt, and laughed. Slowly, she saw Frank and Alice make their way to the floor. Perhaps Frank was coming around. Severus caught her eye a few tables over.
"Dance with me, Sev!" she sashed over and grabbed his hands, but he stayed put with a scowl. "I'm not going to make a fool of myself." She kept trying, they'd never had an opportunity to dance before outside of records on the phonograph, but the boy wouldn't budge. "Fine!" she turned.
Disappointed, Lily walked back over to Remus and looked up at him pleadingly, "I don't dance." he said. "You didn't have much of a problem last Valentine's day," Lily pointed out.
"That's not all this pomp!"
"Not everyone's doing it like that," she looked over where James and Sirius were dancing together, but apart, exaggeratedly. "Just one song?" she held up a finger.
Remus downed the rest of his punch, "All right, apologies for any physical or emotional damage I may cause your person."
She laughed and pulled him onto the dance floor. The band played a variant of "Fly Me to the Moon". Remus turned out to be an even better dancer than his Valentine's day frug, especially after she let go of the natural tendency to be in charge and let him lead. The song ended and a far more upbeat "Winter Wonderland" began playing.
"Maybe one more?" she asked.
He pushed a stray curl out of his face and laughed, "Maybe one more."
As he spun her into a princess dip, silver ticker tape began falling from the ceiling. Remus pulled her up and spun her out. She let go of his hand and continued twirling with her arms out, laughing as she watched the strands of silver fall like snow.
Late after the party, while Peter and James were off procuring last minute holiday biscuits for the ride home as well as checking the rigging of a yule log prank to go off for those who stayed over Christmas respectively, Sirius lay on his mattress; Remus was wedged between the crack of his own and Sirius'. The party had been better than October's stuffy supper, and he and James managed to secretly remove Cissy and Malfoy's chairs from under them so they crashed to the floor in front of some dignitary. He smiled. Remus spent half the night dancing (arguably quite well) with Evans, and when she began dancing with Marleen, he joined them for punch and chinwagging. He wished Remus was a pureblood so he'd get invited to the Christmas Eve party. Sirius thought back to their lunch earlier that day, of conversation and of Remus being unable to touch any cutlery. There was still much, so much, they didn't know about him.
"When were you bitten?"
"What?"
"There was a time before you became a werewolf right?" Remus had to have been fully human, once.
He could feel Remus ignoring his gaze, but he spoke to the ceiling.
"I was five years old."
"Do you know the wolf that bit you?"
Remus sighed, "No, but I—I feel bad for him sometimes. If the ministry caught him, he'd have been put down. It's because of my own idiocy he hurt me and killed..." breath hitched a bit, "He killed my mum," he whispered.
"'M sorry, Remus," Sirius didn't know what he was apologising for. Asking the question? The fact it happened?
"I saw it happen. I made it happen. It's my fault."
Sirius apologised again and tried to put a comforting arm over Remus the same way James naturally would if he were here.
"It's not your fault," Sirius told him, "You were just a kid. Kids don't always know." Sirius thought about all the times he was simply expected to have knowledge about aristocracy and the way society worked when he was younger. How he was spanked for not knowing and then spanked again for asking questions. He was glad Remus and the others let him ask stupid questions.
"I often wonder how things would've turned out if I hadn't been so fuckin' foolish. It's like...it's like the monthly transformations are a punishment, ya know? Karma."
Of course Remus would blame himself for something out of his control. Sirius swallowed, "James said that's not how it works. Are the transformations painful?"
"You get used to it." He was lying. "'M going to sleep now; I want breakfast before we hafta leave."
A few minutes later Sirius felt Remus' breathing slow and James sneak in behind him. Peter made it back about an hour later. Sirius lay awake until James rolled on him in his sleep and unknowingly squashed all heavy thoughts out of Sirius' body.
James was excited Professor Windsor was riding the train with them. He offered their compartment to him when he was between patrols. However, most of the ride was just the Marauders and Regulus, who especially enjoyed the biscuits Peter nicked last night. Albeit he didn't know they were taken after curfew, under dubious circumstances, and therefore better. Sirius' miniature had engrossed himself in a book Snivellus had lent him—ergo a dark book, so James devised a plan to get him to "accidentally" lose it out the window into the freezing snowstorm.
"NO!" he cried when it left; James had to fight hard not to smile, "Accio! Accio! I still can't do that spell right," he said distraught.
"You can reimburse Severus," Remus glared at James but nibbled on his own chocolate chip biscuit to the eight he had stashed in his trunk. He'd put quite a lot of leftovers from breakfast into his bathroom towel as well—surely far too much to eat on one train ride where lunch was provided.
"But he borrowed it from Avery, who borrowed it from Crabbe!"
"Just write a letter with the money," Peter shrugged and not so subtly kicked James with his heel.
The train pulled into King's Cross. When James saw his parents, he bade farewell to Remus and Peter with hugs and told Sirius and Regulus he would see them on the twenty-fourth.
"Jamie! How was your last week? I haven't received any letters! You did get the potion for concentrating on revision, right?" He was swooped up into his mother's embrace, only managing a muffled "Mmph," against her chest. His father carried his suitcase and rested a forearm on top of his head, "Have to return to the Ministry, but absolutely had to see you home!"
Remus was sure he'd literally be fuming if he wasn't so cold. The throngs of students waned. No show from his father again. Worse, he'd spent the last of his money paying James back for their trip to Honeyduke's, so he couldn't floo home. He'd sent two owls—two! He was ready to leave the platform and summon the Knight Bus as far as it would take him and hoof it the rest of the way when Professor Windsor showed up, "Lyall here yet?"
"He's just a bit late," Remus shivered. The full moon was only four nights away.
"My business here is done. Care for me to apparate you home?"
"That's—that's not necessary." Merlin, what would his teacher think if he saw the way his former colleague was living? What if his father was pissed or there was glass on the floor again?
"Nonsense, part of my job is making sure all students get home safe. Join me?"
Remus reluctantly followed him to the apparition station and took his professor's proffered forearm, "Same place in Wales, right?" Remus nodded and disappeared from England.
They landed in a patch of snow nearby. Remus hunched over and nearly heaved. Don't you dare boot! He admonished himself.
"Thanks for the lift, sir," he nodded curtly.
"Mind if I give my greetings to Lyall?"
"I don't want to impose on your time..." Remus trailed off, "He hasn't been the...happiest since Mum..."
"All the more reason for holiday cheer," Professor Windsor had a comforting smile which encouraged Remus to open the door.
The smells weren't as bad as summer hols, which was good. The floor was dusty, but free from shards of glass. There were plenty of beer and firewhiskey bottles littering the place but at least the sink was free from mouldy plates.
"Father?" Remus called.
There was a bang and a curse from upstairs.
"We have company!" Remus warned.
Lyall came downstairs in his tattered pinstripe pyjamas. So not pissed then, just hungover and waking up at supper time. His scruffy beard and hair were oily and he had dark circles under his eyes.
To Remus' surprise, Professor Windsor, the prince of expressive faces and gestures (James and Sirius were reigning kings), kept an impassive face, "All right, Lyall?"
Remus' father cocked his head, rubbing his sleepy eyes with a thumb and forefinger like he didn't know whether what he saw was real or not, "Mel?" he asked. "Is the boy causing trouble?"
"I'm teaching Remus at Hogwarts now; was happy to apparate him home."
"Tea.." he muttered, "Would you like some tea? How long's it been?" Translation: Remus, make some tea while the adults talk. Which he scarpered to do, warming his hands over the boiling water. He scooped some old leaves out of the tin. Nothing that would taste as good as Professor Windsor's, the Potters', or even Hogwarts' for that matter. They only had two cups suitable for hot tea, both chipped. So he poured the dark liquid into those for his father and his old friend, saved what was left of the sugar for them, and added his to an old canning jar which originally held jam from Mrs. Crouse, the dairy farmer's wife.
While they talked, Remus took his jar upstairs and unpacked, but could hear snippets of their conversation over his rummaging this close to the full. Stuff about needing to put wards around the house and password changes on the floo. "Protect Remus from dark wizards or those who may have a vendetta against...the voice muffled here...could make more income than the Ministry's pension...Talk to someone...mental Healer...not everyone is prejudiced...like you felt... He heard grunts and disagreements from his father.
When he returned downstairs, Professor Windsor was vanishing bottles, the broom was cleaning the floor, and a rag wiping down other hard surfaces. There was a fresh fire roaring but definitely a warming charm on the room as well.
"Thanks for the tea, mate. Write back to me, yeah?" Professor Windsor pocketed his wand and Remus' father waved his hand, "No problem. Good talk, good talk."
Remus showed his professor to the door, but the man brought Remus out on the stoop with him and shut the front door.
He said in a low and serious voice, "Remus. Is Lyall capable of...does your father take care of you?" He's usually good about locking me up for transformations. "I know he can't afford a glamorous lifestyle not working...but is he providing enough for you enough to eat?" Remus thought about the extra food he'd taken for them both from breakfast. Most of his pension goes towards alcohol and spliff.
"We get by," Remus narrowed his eyes. They weren't like normal families; couldn't ever be like people like the Potters; society spat on his father because of what his son was and had done.
"If he's not...you must understand I have a legal obligation to report this."
Remus wanted to snort. And who would care about a werewolf cub? Living with his father could be hell, but he got nothing less than he deserved. Yet picturing himself alone made his heart race.
"Really, sir, I'm fine."
"Do you trust me enough to let me know if that changes? If you go hungry, or he drinks too much...or tries to physically harm you?"
With affirmations from Remus, the teacher disappeared with a crack.
A few nights later, Remus was lying in the basement with cooling blood running down his back. It wasn't even from the transformation yet to come. His father had come down hard on him.
When he was grasping at the living room floor, seeing white clouds in his vision, the sloshed man knelt down and rubbed a thumb over the two lines on his face. He finally became coherent and quiet, "What'd you do to her face? What'd you do to her face?" The fingers locked onto his chin, "I can't get rid of you, Godric dammit! I can't get rid of you because you're a monster, but you're part of her...part of me." Hearing his father drunk cry after that had a worse effect than being struck.
His aching joints began to scream at him. Muscles twitched involuntarily from shivering and changing their human structure completely. With what little air he had in his lungs from the cold, Remus screamed.
***waning gibbous***
Sirius pulled on the green silk robes his father had purchased for him to wear that evening. He had a smaller mirror standing next to his bedroom one to talk to his brother while he preened for the masses. Regulus matched robes and black tie.
"What do you think the adults talk about?" Regulus asked.
"Politics, religion, business, what garish robes someone's Aunt Tessie is wearing—pointless stuff." He finished running a comb through his hair, standing straight and tall. His father's forced Concealment Charm covered several red splotches on his chin and forehead ("You must begin washing your face every day," a bar of Pearl Powder FaceSoap was thrust into his hand with disgust). "I look rather fake," he mused to Regulus, "Like a demiguise." Or a colour changing serpent. But he didn't voice that.
"You look most regal, young esquire" the non-two way mirror spoke. "The green looks better with your eyes than that hideous red jumper you wore yesterday."
"The mirror's right. We are mum's pride and joy. It's important to leave a good impression of her with the other families. I heard the McKinnon's are allowing mudbloods in this year. Marlene and her brother who fed you those wonky desserts are bringing friends from school," his nose bunched up as he checked his teeth.
"I told you that's rude language, Reg. You may still be mum's pride and joy; I'm the family fuck up, peacocking for appearances," Sirius muttered, scowling at his brother bringing up That-Situation-Which-Should-Not-Be-Named.
"That's rude language, Sirius."
"But in an entirely different caliber," Sirius rolled his eyes. Walburga Black yelled from downstairs that it was time to leave. The party had already started, but arriving late would mean more eyes would be on the Noble and Most Ancient family.
Sirius arrived with his father's bearing hand on his shoulder. Reg and his mother appeared a few seconds later with her arm on his...as if he was a little gentleman. He looked up in the music box and smiled when he saw James there with his small violin again and Mrs. Potter with her mouth close to a circular microphone like the Quidditch commentators used, amplifying her singing (something about two lovers separated by a range of mountains and meeting on the winter solstice). He knew the drill. To the basement. Eat food. Don't kiss his best mate. However, the offspring of other families didn't appear to be downstairs yet either. The love song ended. He looked around in confusion as glasses of champagne were served to all the adults and sparkling pumpkin juice to the minors. Mr. McKinnon stepped into the box with a glass of his own.
Lily Evans had never felt more out of place in her life. She'd been to a few work parties with her parents. The winter Slug Club party had been a blast. Even finding out she was a witch and entering their world had felt more like belonging than it did this mystery. But right now, Lily didn't understand the world around her.
Her parents allowed her to spend the night with Marlene with the promise she'd be home in time to open stockings at breakfast. She was regretting asking her family to spend Christmas Eve with her friends. She'd much rather be curled up on the couch with her daddy, sipping hot cocoa in her pyjamas as Mum read the Christmas story. But the promise of a new adventure with her dearest girlfriends had been too much.
Marlene and Mary assured her she was conducting herself with impressive decorum as she introduced herself and made small talk with people from outside Hogwarts, but that didn't change the fact she felt like she was pretending. It was also blatantly obvious she was the only lady, the only one, not even Kathryn, Dorcas, or Cari were, there in a muggle dress. The burnt orange of the long crushed velvet sleeves matched the glass of pumpkin juice she was handed. Circe walked about her ankles. Marlene's father walked into the box where Potter's family was playing some of the most beautiful easy listening music Lily had ever heard (not that she'd ever tell Potter; she was sure his hair got bigger with his ego).
A hush fell over the crowd. Marlene linked her unoccupied arm with Dorcas' and Kathryn with Lily's.
"What an exciting Christmas Eve this is!" Mr. McKinnon's voice projected with a charm instead of the wireless magical microphone Mrs. Potter was using. "It's not every day a father gets to make such an exciting announcement in front of such dear guests."
"What's happening?" Dorcas whispered.
"Mike's probably finally found a lady with a large enough dowry," Marlene replied.
Her dad continued, "It is with the upmost honour, I get to make the announcement that our dear Marlene..."
Lily heard her friend's breath hitch.
"...has officially been promised to the Noble House of Potter!"
Was he serious? Surely this wasn't an engagement between two twelve year olds?!
James Potter visibly swallowed hard. His eyes roved the crowd until they landed on where Lily stood with Marlene and smiled politely, though it clearly didn't meet his eyes.
"I need to go to the ladies'" Marlene excused herself.
"To James and Marlene!" Mr. McKinnon raised his glass.
"James and Marlene!" the crowd echoed. Lily put her own pumpkin juice on the ground as she and her friends followed Marlene, not to the loo, but a vacant balcony. Lily had never seen Marlene cry. She wasn't exactly crying now, either, but she was breathing as if she was despite no tears falling from her eyes. Nothing anyone said seemed to be comfort her. Albeit, what could one say?
James watched Marlene's friends inconspicuously trail her as she left quietly. After many congratulations, James himself was excused and navigated the labyrinth of the house to find her. He succeeded with the help of a tuxedo cat. They were out on a balcony with snow covered firs in pots and cloudy night sky dropping more.
"McKinnon—" he started.
"You can turn that scrawny arse of yours back around, Potter," Hampton pointed a finger. "You've done enough." For once, James hadn't actually done anything.
"I'd appreciate a short word, alone, that's all."
Lily Evans, who was dressed in something muggle like Peter's sister wore but carried herself with as much dignity as she had at the Slug Club party, narrowed her green eyes, "We're not leaving her with you."
He attempted to flash her a smile, "I assure you, Evans, by the time our conversation is through, she'll be returned propriety fully intact."
Lips curled in disdain; she was about to say something more but Marlene interrupted, "Lily, it's fine. I'll meet you all in my room."
When they left James took a moment because he hadn't actually thought this far ahead.
"You don't appear shocked," Marlene accused, "Did you know?"
"Well, over the summer—"
"You knew this is what they were planning?!" Marlene reached in her robes and a gloved hand wrapped around her wand, "And you said nothing?!"
James' eyes crossed at the wand pointed towards his nose. Knowing what this girl was capable of, he had to fight the urge to move his raised hands to cover his peter. "It's not like I'm dancing on rooftops at the prospect of our engagement," he made a face at the word. "I don't mean to be rude, but I don't want to marry you." There, it was said.
Marlene lowered the wand, turned away, and shook her head, "Me either. But we'll have to, won't we? Arranged marriages are what we do. That's what we are supposed to do...our duty?"
"Perhaps we could learn to love each other," he attempted practically. His parents had and they loved each other quite dearly. But James thought about all the stories he'd both heard and invented. Duty was often what kept the princess from marrying her hero—a Part II of the falling action, if you will.
"Love," she said quietly, "The heart racing, stomach summersaulting, spirit vibing, can't eat, can't think, where you could live forever with it being nothing more than them and you, riding off together into the sunset kind of feeling? I'm sorry, but I don't think I could ever feel that way about you."
James wondered how anyone would be able to stand nothing more than one other person forever. He was just starting to notice girls; that didn't mean he wanted to live with one. He boldly extended a hand to the armed witch and turned her around. There was snow in her lashes and something akin to fear, not hatred, in her eyes. Was she that terrified of being married to him? No, she was afraid of being forced to be with him and someone not able to give her that spirit vibing romanticism.
James had to work hard to pin down his thoughts. What if—what if the damsel in distress didn't always want to be married to the hero? What if, in order to rescue her, they were supposed to work together?
"D'you, um, do you feel that way about someone?" James had to know.
"I..." she started working her jaw, "I don't know. I want a family. It's confusing, but we're not even teenagers yet! I just want to be able to figure it out for myself."
"No," James told her.
"Pardon me?" she took a disgusted step back.
James stepped forward again and brushed the snow out of his hair, "No, we won't have to get married. We won't have to do our duty. We will find your one, true Prince Charming, I solemnly swear it to you," he knelt down on one knee and bowed with his forearm in front of his chest.
"Oh my G-d, Potter," she looked up at the sky, closed her eyes for a second, then scrunched her nose in a short, exasperated laugh (of appreciation, James was sure). "Get up."
He escorted Marlene to her room where Sirius was lounging on a blue settee and tossed aside the holiday issue of Witch Weekly when the door opened. He reached beneath him and offered two butterbeers. "I nicked 'em from Shacklebolt's sister, who nicked 'em from MacMillan, who nicked 'em from Malfoy."
Nearly each of the ladies had their own.
"We're underage," Evans admonished, not taking any.
"You can be served butterbeer when you're fourteen," Schmidt said.
"Like I said, currently underage."
"So?" Meadowes asked, eyes dancing between Marlene and James.
"It is with the upmost honour," he impersonated Mr. McKinnon, "I get to make the announcement: We are not getting married." He was happy to see Marlene smile and open her butterbeer.
"To James and Marlene not getting married!" Sirius raised his bottle.
"To James and Marlene!" the room echoed. Evans rolled her eyes. James tossed back a swig of his butterbeer and appreciated the fizz similar to the drinks Mrs. Pettigrew had sent for Remus' birthday.
***waning crescent***
Peter opened a thick letter from James. He was wearing part of the raven haired boy's Christmas present to him as he opened it (red socks with mice in Santa hats). It contained a novella of a tale about the happenings of Christmas Eve. And on Christmas morning, he'd received a package from Remus mysteriously labeled: Do not open in front of the parentals. Turns out, Remus found James' invisibility cloak, returning it for his Christmas gift. Good, now they could have more protection in their sneaking once more. It's good karma, James had written.
He left his room to grab some peppermint bark Jess had made last night. Jane was in the kitchen fluffing the leaves of a poinsettia she'd grown before grabbing two bottles of bitter and carrying them back to her room where she and Jess were giggling while gossiping, painting their nails, or whatever it was they did. The rest of the bark was gone, to his disappointment.
Peter went back to flop on his bed. It was too cold and damp to play outside but he was too distracted by the laughter down the hall to read. Sometimes he envied Remus' ability to tune out the rest of the world. Peter wondered what the birds were laughing about. He bet he could hear them if he was in the curtained closet of Mum's room. She was taking a shower...he could go...
Smiling to himself, Peter tiptoed to his mother's room, pulled the fabric curtain of her closet back and disappeared behind her hanging clothes. He may not be able to find Narnia, but sneaking was fun too. He pressed his ear to the cool wallpaper, "Yes, there totally are!" "No, there aren't!" "You mean to tell me, Jane Pettigrew, you don't believe there's more out there than we know about?" "I didn't say that! But I know there aren't any daleks coming for us anytime soon!" "So you do believe in..."
Peter's sock caught under the corner of a cardboard box. He looked down to pull it out, quiet as possible. A letter on top caught his eye in the dim light: Peter Pettigrew, his name was on the envelope. It was written in calligraphic ink, not postmarked, which meant it'd come through Owl Post. He picked it up. There was another underneath. And another. Several were postmarked as muggle mail. He pulled them all out. 22—nearly two dozen unopened letters were in his hands. Backing out of the closet for better lighting, Peter carefully worked the top one open:
23. 12. 72
Dear Peter,
Happy Christmas! Hard to believe you're a teenager now; practically a man! May your day be filled with much joy and laughter as you enjoy a break from school. I'll be in town the 26th and 27th if you'd like to go out for ice cream. Is chocolate still your favorite?
(No, Peter thought, It's been strawberry for years.)
I know you haven't replied to any of my previous letters, but I would like to see my only son and hear about your adventures at Hogwarts, the friends you're making, and anything else you'd like to talk about.
Love,
Dad
Peter's heart began to race; he ripped open another:
18.11.70
Happy Birthday, Peter!
Another one:
20.6.68
I've got a new flat, how would you feel about spending part of the summer with me?
These were all from his father! To him; hidden from him! The door to the room opened. Peter jumped.
"Mum!"
"Peter?" she looked down with her wet hair in rollers, "What are you..." she stopped when she saw the scattered letters on the carpet.
"Dad's tried to contact me?!" he yelled far louder than his usual pitch.
"Now, Pete, you have to understand..."
"NO! He's written me letters for years and you've always told me he didn't want his kids around after your ultimatum! You've been lying to us! SO HELP ME 'UNDERSTAND'!"
The laughing next door stopped. Jane came in the room, hair disarrayed.
"Peter, what's wrong?" his sister asked.
"MUM'S BEEN KEEPING DAD FROM CONTACTING ME!"
Jane knelt down, "It's been for your own good—" she started.
She knew?! With a scoff, Peter haphazardly gathered what parchment he could and shoved out of the room. He lost a few envelopes running into Jess in the corridor, but he bolted for the door without a coat. Where he was running to, he had no clue, but the house felt too small and too full of secrets. When he reached the frozen bog, he sat on an old tree stump, shielding the letters from the mix of snow and freezing rain. Droplets still rained down on them. He hadn't realized he was crying. Snow crunched behind him, "Go away!" he spat at his sister.
"Nah, I think I'll have a sit, don't have to talk though," she conjured an orange lawn chair and sat next to him. She reached into her suede jacket and pulled out a rolled up fag. With the flick of a metal lighter, it caught flame.
"Since when do you smoke?" Peter couldn't refrain from asking. This was one too many shocks he could take in one day.
"I'm 22, I've been an adult for several years."
"So that gives you a right to baby me? Not let me make my own decisions?!"
"You are my baby brother, no matter how old you get" she exhaled like a dragon, "I told you I was trying to protect you."
"I don't want to talk about it," Peter took back his previous words.
And so they didn't. For half a cigarette's length of time, anyway.
"Dad's not the most stellar person in the world," Jane stared at the fag between her fingers. "You know he used memory charms on Mum."
"Because she kept finding out about magic..."
"It wasn't always for that. And it wasn't just about the magic. He was—he can be..." she paused, "Manipulative is the best word for it, I suppose. And obsessive."
"Hufflepuffs aren't manipulative," Peter thought aloud. Jane snorted then coughed. "Your Hogwarts House doesn't define your person. Not all racists live in Slytherin and not all Slytherins oppose muggle/witch relationships." Peter pondered this and remembered the Gryffindor and Slytherin caught in the Astronomy tower last year. "And not all Hufflepuffs are pushover stoners," she took another drag.
"Mum can't remember probably a quarter of the things he did but it was enough for them to separate. But I remember a lot. Shite, I don't even know if I remember all of it either. There are things I think I remember but I don't...and things I don't remember that I somehow know happened. I saw a Healer last year after Jess and I began hanging out. She suggested a psychologist because I kept having nightmares, but I couldn't explain everything to a muggle, could I?"
Peter had no idea.
"The Healer said memory charms are tricky enough, but sometimes the mind blocks stuff out without even needing magic, as a sort of protection. A few things were restored, but I believe even more wasn't—I was the one who suggested destroying the letters, but Mum settled for hiding them. I'm sorry if I hurt you. Really I am. But I believe I did the fairest thing for your sanity," she said pointedly, "I'm always in your corner, Pete," she finished her fag and vanished it. "I suppose it's not always obvious if you're doing the right thing...but it's always damn clear if you don't do enough."
"Th-thank you for telling me now," Peter managed. "I'm going to read these, though, and anymore that come my way." He took a firm stance.
"You're smart, Peter, and capable of making your own decisions. I know that. But please, please, trust me when I say meeting up again with our father would be a mistake."
Despite her recent betrayal, Peter did trust her in light of information shared.
"Good. Let's get back to the house, I'm freezing my tits off and there's a Doctor Who New Year's marathon. You can watch with me 'n Jess if you're so bored you have to snoop in Mum's closet."
Lily spent the last evening of her holiday sitting next to her daddy on the piano bench facing the wrong direction. Petunia had her hair pulled up in rollers while her mother poured her, Severus, and Lily hot chocolate. Mum danced around a bit as she went around the room singing, "I've got my love to keep me warm!" with her father (much to Tuney's disgust). With a flourished finished, Lily sang with her dad, "Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?" he looked down at her face with a smile.
Her mother perched on the end of the bench and put an arm around Lily's shoulder, "For auld lang syne my jo, for auld lang syne..." Daisy bent down and kissed her daughter's wool capped head.
"And there's a hand, my trusty fiere! And gie's a hand o' thine!" She watched Severus blow on his hot chocolate while watching her sing, "And we'll tak' a right gude-willie waught, for auld lang syne," she toasted him quickly with her cup before beginning the last chorus. "...we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, for auld lang syne!"
Severus accompanied them to the train station the next day and sat by her in a compartment with Marlene, Mary, Ginny, and Cari. Professor Windsor popped his head in to welcome them back and continued walking down the cars.
Shortly after they finished lunch, the engine began to slow. They couldn't possibly be there yet? She asked Sev. The lights went out.
"Can a magic train break down?" Cari asked. Lily's eyes slowly adjusted to the light coming in from the snow frosted window.
"If it's not Potter's gang, I'll eat a wand," Ginny muttered.
But Lily had a feeling in her gut something was wrong. Everyone withdrew their wands; Cari locked the door. There was a cracking sound; the train lurched as their car was opened. A cloaked black shadow opened the compartment beside theirs. No face was visible. There was a scream. Lily didn't hesitate. With sweaty palms and heart racing, she whispered, "Alohamora," on their own door.
"Lily," Severus grabbed the back of her fluffy coat but she shrugged out of it.
She pointed her wand to the back of the cloaked figure and yelled, "STUPEFY!" The spell had been practiced on Sev, but never in class or Duelling Club, so it was with great relief the figure dropped. Another cloaked figure came in the door, there was a skull mask where the wizard's face should be, "CRUCIO!"
"NO!" she heard several of her friends, most of all Severus, scream.
"Pro—" she didn't get the spell out. Something bounced off her chest and the caster screamed, falling to the floor.
Ginny came out of the compartment and yelled, "Expelliarmus!" but the spell had a bad angle and missed. Cari cast something which missed, cracking the glass of the compartment the stunned figure was in. The conscious cloaked invader grabbed the ankle of the other prone figure and disappeared with a whiplike crack.
Lily checked on the other compartment. It was mostly third year Slytherins with two Ravenclaws. A few of them nearest the window had cuts from broken glass, but it seemed the first scream had come before the invader could attack.
The train lurched forward; everyone standing grasped desperately to find purchase. Mary fell into Marlene, Cari knocked herself out into the window glass which gave completely in at her weight, and Severus on top of Lily. Only Ginny managed to keep her balance completely.
The door separating cars opened. Lily pointed her wand from where she lay under Sev, who moved quickly to get off her. "STUPEFY!" she yelled again although her strength felt depleted. The spell was deflected with a flick and Professor Windsor rushed to them.
"Anyone hurt?" he asked. Marlene told him Cari was, "What happened?" Lily wasn't sure if he was asking about Cari or the intruders. Marlene explained two people came on the train. While she did, the professor pulled his wand away from Cari and said, "Expecto Patronum," a bright lightning-blue cat-like creature erupted from his wand and disappeared through the walls. Moments later, a seventh year Ravenclaw Prefect burst through the door. He cast the same creature again.
"She's got a lot of glass stuck under the skin. Somehow the anti-apparition wards have been broken. I want you to apparate to the top floor of the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. Madame Pomfrey will receive my message and meet you there to either remove the rest there or bring her to the hospital wing if there's not too much damage. Is anyone else injured enough to leave the train?" The older students in the cart shook their heads.
The Prefect also shook her head, "Fifth year broke his nose hitting a wall; Smith fixed it."
"Go ahead and apparate. Stand back," he told Lily and the others. Lily crawled backwards. Cari and the Prefect disappeared the same way the attackers got away.
"Were those Death Eaters, sir?" Marlene asked.
"Afraid so," came the reply. "They didn't attack anyone?" he said in confusion.
"Lily got one before he could fire, but then the other appeared and cast a Cruciatus Curse," Ginny's eyes were wide.
"The Cruciatus?! Why didn't anybody say? Miss Evans, you must go to Hogsmeade as well."
"No, no, I'm fine," Lily stumbled over her words.
"So they missed?"
"No."
"Your charm," Severus looked at her. Lily found her hand wandering to the locket laying against her chest. "It didn't hurt me," she assured. "Why? What's the Cruciatus Curse?" She vaguely recalled horrible sentiments surrounding it in conversations about Kitty's uncle. It had sent him to permanent residence at St. Mungo's.
In an unusual display of affection, Severus squeezed her hand, eyes never leaving hers, "The torture curse."