Tuesday, November 8, 1977
The clink of cutlery and the animated chatter of the other students washed over Lily as she munched a piece of toast and began her daily perusal of The Daily Prophet. She had just taken a sip of tea when she read the headline on the front page, and the shock of the words almost caused her to drop the mug.
"Bloody hell," she muttered, scanning the words now spattered with droplets of tea. Her eyes widened in horror as she devoured the article, desperate for information although it filled her with terror.
"What's wrong?" James asked, noticing the stricken look on her face and peering down to read over her shoulder. "Oh shit."
Lily glanced up at James and saw the fear and sorrow rippling through her mirrored on his face. His eyes met hers, and he reached for her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze before he returned his attention to the article. Lily finished reading, hoping the rest of the story would yield some sliver of hope, but as she reached the last sentence she felt no less terrified than she did upon reading the headline.
"What's wrong with you two?" Sirius asked, cramming half a piece of bacon into his mouth and studying their faces as he chewed.
Lily could only gesture at the newspaper, still too stunned for words, but James took a deep breath and tightened his grip on her hand.
"You know that rally last night to protest the lack of action to stop Death Eater activity?" he began.
Lily watched as Remus looked up from his book and Mary and Peter broke off their conversation mid sentence to listen to what James had to say. They all knew about the rally; there had been several articles written about it in The Daily Prophet, and it was the subject of much controversy and debate. Several well-known Quidditch players were planning to attend, although it was rumored that the Tutshill Tornadoes had threatened to fine any players who spoke out publicly against the Ministry.
"There was an attack," James went on, and Lily could tell he was fighting to keep his tone neutral despite the effort this cost him. "Five people were killed."
"Anyone we know?" Sirius asked, not bothering to hide the fear that creased his face and made his voice shake as he waited for James to reply.
James nodded. "Megan Bernard," he said, and as he spoke her name he revealed a hint of the pain that Lily knew he was trying so hard to repress.
"Nards?" Sirius asked, using the nickname James had given the girl during their years of playing Quidditch together. "Fuck, that's horrible."
Lily pictured Megan Bernard's cheerful, freckled face as she sat talking and laughing in the common room or teasing James as they ate breakfast before a Quidditch match. She recalled the skill with which she had yielded her Beater's bat, handling it as if it were an extension of her body rather than a heavy, clunky object that Lily could barely lift above her head. The look of pride and excitement on her face when she announced that she would be playing Quidditch for England flashed into Lily's mind, followed by the memory of a party following a Quidditch match during which Nards and another teammate had mooned the entire common room, including Professor McGonagall. How could this vibrant, funny person who Lily remembered so clearly be dead? It felt impossible, and yet there it was, her name printed in the newspaper next to the other casualties, incontrovertible and final.
"I'm sorry, Prongs," Remus said, his voice full of concern. "I always liked her."
"Me too," Peter agreed. His blue eyes darted from James to the rest of them, and Lily could sense his panic as he scrambled to come up with something to say that wasn't useless and cliche.
"They're trying to send a message," Sirius said. Anger flashed in his eyes, and his voice rose, attracting the attention of several people further down the bench. Mary placed a hand on his shoulder with trepidation, but he shrugged her off. "Don't you think? That none of us are safe, not if we oppose them. it's not just Muggles and Muggleborns who are in danger, it's all of us. And it's only going to get worse."
"You're right," James said, and there was an echo of Sirius's anger in his face, although it was more of a quiet, determined anger, rather than the hot, impulsive flash of rage that still smoldered as Sirius glared down at the newspaper. "Nobody took the Muggle disappearances seriously, and now it's come to this."
"Do you want to skive off classes today and get drunk in her memory?" Mary suggested. "I bet McGonagall would speak to the other professors to excuse you. She knows you and Nards were close."
"No, that's Sirius's way of dealing with grief, not mine," James said, and Lily could tell he was trying to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Besides, I'll be fine, and I'm not the only one affected by this. You all knew her too."
Lily saw the fragile strands of self control straining at the seams, and it broke her heart to see him struggling. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face against his, trying to convey all the comfort and affection that he always seemed to communicate when he embraced her. He pulled away and smiled at her, then ran a hand through his hair and arranged his face into an expression of resignation and purpose.
"Right. I'm going to check on Bubbles, Seven, and Sunshine, because they all played with Nards, and I don't want them to hear it from someone else if they haven't already heard," he said, heaving himself to his feet and setting off along the Gryffindor table without another word. Lily watched him go, and her worry for James almost outweighed her grief at losing a housemate and her fear for the safety of her friends and family.
"Will he be okay, do you think?" Lily asked Sirius, keeping her voice low in case James returned.
"Yeah, he'll be fine," Sirius said, tossing aside the newspaper with disgust and reaching into his pocket to grip something Lily suspected was his pack of cigarettes. "He's pretty unshakeable, except where you're concerned. Anything else, he just gets through it without making a fuss." He glanced at Mary and nodded at the door. "Want to head out to Herbology a bit early? I need a cigarette immediately."
Lily watched the two of them head for the entrance hall, and she noticed Sirius didn't even wait until they were outside to light his cigarette.
"He really will be all right," Peter assured her. "He'll be more worried about how the team is handling it and how we're handling it."
"I just feel like I should do something to make him feel better," she insisted. She hated the sense of helplessness she had experienced as she watched James bury his emotions before rushing off to make sure his team was coping okay. "But what can I do?"
"Just be there for him if he needs you," Remus said, shrugging and pushing back his bench to leave. "Give him an extra hug or shoulder massage or something, and be around if he wants to talk. That's all you can do, and it's more than enough. I don't think you realize how happy you make him, Lily." He flashed her a reassuring smile that did not quite reach his eyes before casting around to spot James giving Seven a bracing pat on the back. Lily felt another pang of sadness and futility as she felt Remus's palpable longing to comfort Seven in spite of his self-imposed secrecy.
"Come on, we'll be late for Herbology," Peter said, and Lily and Remus followed after him, slowing at the edge of the Gryffindor table to allow James time to join them.
Throughout the course of the day Lily found herself sneaking glances at James, because despite all his assurances that he would be fine, she couldn't shake the suspicion that he was anything but fine. He was a bit quieter and less cheerful than usual, but otherwise he seemed unaffected during their morning classes and all through lunch. When they stood to leave the Great Hall, he caught her watching him with anxiety clouding her face, and he grinned and put a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm fine, Evans," he said, leaning in to kiss her. "You don't have to worry about me." He pushed a piece of hair out of her face and traced her jawbone. "Are you okay?"
The question was so simple, and yet Lily couldn't even begin to formulate an honest answer because her emotions were pulled in so many directions. Before she had time to reply, McGonagall was bustling over to them, a grim expression clouding her face.
"Did you two see The Prophet this morning?" she asked, and when they both nodded she gave a resigned sigh. "Just terrible. What a tragedy." She fell silent for a moment, and Lily considered the toll it must be taking on McGonagall to lose a former student in this way. Her lips formed a thin, hard line, and she blinked several times before clearing her throat and continuing."I'm going to have all the professors speak to their Gryffindor students this afternoon, but would you make sure the other prefects know and spread the word to anyone else that I'm going to come speak to everyone in the common room tonight at seven?"
"Of course. Do you need us to do anything else?" James said, nodding. Lily was grateful he had taken the initiative to answer for both of them, because her brain seemed to be taking a long time to process simple information, and she was unable to do more than nod along with him.
McGonagall shook her head and appraised James with her piercing stare. "Are you all right, Potter? You played together for, what, five years? You must have been close."
Her voice was softer than usual, and she reached out to place a hand on James's shoulder before withdrawing it and clasping her hands together in front of her.
James smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Professor. Evans and I will make sure everyone knows about the meeting tonight, and we'll see you later."
He reached for Lily's hand and they set off for class, weaving their way around other students. Lily risked a sideways glance at him, but his face revealed none of the pain she felt sure lurked beneath his resigned expression.
"That was nice of McGonagall," she began, tentatively easing into the subject and hoping James would not see right through her tactics. "To check in on you like that. You rarely see that softer side of her, you know?"
"Yeah, it was nice of her," James said, and the way he narrowed his eyes made it clear that he was not fooled by her casual tone. "She's like that more than you think, but you have to really pay attention to see it. She's like that with Remus a lot. And I've seen her be that way with Sirius a couple of times, when he was going through stuff with his family. She has a real soft spot for Sirius." He pulled her to the side of the corridor and stopped walking, then rested both of his hands on her shoulders. "Listen. I know you think I'm going to fall apart at any moment, and I love that you're concerned about me, but I'm honestly fine. I just want to be there for you and for everyone else, and the best way for me to do that is to carry on like normal. So you can stop sneaking glances at me and trying to get me to talk about my feelings and worrying that I'm about to burst into tears, because I'm fine. All right?"
Before she had time to respond he pressed his lips to hers and let his hands trail down to her waist, and the familiar warmth of his touch comforted her.
"I'm the last person you should be worrying about, Evans," he said when he pulled away, and the reassurance in his hazel eyes almost convinced Lily that he was telling the truth. "Now come on. Let's get to class before we get in trouble for snogging in the corridor."
He laced his fingers through hers and set off, leaving her with no option other than to follow him and hope his assurances were sincere.
"Should we get going?" Lily asked, checking James's watch and standing up.
James blinked in confusion; he had been replaying McGonagall's words in his head ever since she had addressed the Gryffindors twenty minutes ago. His eyes darted across the common room to where Seven sat with her head bent over a book, brushing aside the occasional tear. He had already been over to give her an encouraging pat on the back, but he wondered if he should go back over and maybe give her a hug. He had been so occupied with everything else that he had completely forgotten about doing patrols tonight, but he got to his feet and draped an arm around Lily's waist as though his mind was focused on nothing else.
"Yeah, hang on, let me get the Map," he said, retrieving the Marauder's Map and stowing it in his pocket before leading Lily out of the common room and into the corridor.
"Do you want to do a bit of actual patrolling first, or do you fancy going straight to the Head Office?" Lily asked, and James noticed with a pang how worn down she looked.
"Let's go straight to the Head Office," he said, wishing they could retreat up to his dormitory and crawl under his duvet together.
When they reached the Head Office Lily collapsed heavily into one of the chairs while James picked up a blanket they had stored in there for snogging purposes and tucked it around her.
"What's this for?" she asked, a tired smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Do I look cold?"
"You look tired and sad, and I thought maybe a blanket would make you feel better," he said, taking the chair next to her and reaching under the blanket to take her hand.
She squeezed his hand and rested her head on his shoulder. "It's just been a long day, that's all. I'm okay."
He ran his thumb up and down the edge of her hand. "No you're not. And that's okay. You don't have to talk to me about it, if you'd rather not, but I just wanted to say that if you want to, I'm here. We have all night, and I'm a good listener." He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "Well, all right, I'm a decent listener. I'm not nearly as good as Remus, but I do all right."
She picked up her head and turned to look at him, and James felt his breath catch in his chest as her eyes filled up with tears. With a strangled sob she pressed her face against his chest and collapsed against him, letting the blanket fall to the floor as her tears soaked his shirt. He felt a sudden urge to let his own emotions spill out, and the relief that would bring was so tempting that he almost gave in and let the sobs wrack his body as he confessed his fear and anger and uncertainty. Her thin shoulders and slender frame felt so fragile in his arms that it felt unfair to burden her with his problems, so he swallowed his own emotions and focused on comforting the girl he loved.
When her tears subsided, Lily rubbed at her swollen eyes and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be falling apart like this when you have more reason than I do to be upset. I just can't stop thinking that it could've been any of us, you know? If we weren't in school I would've gone to that rally, wouldn't you?"
James nodded. "Course I would have. I'd be standing right there next to you, one hand in yours and the other hand holding a protest sign."
The image brought a smile to James's face, despite the danger and the sadness of the situation, and he saw Lily's face brighten slightly as she pictured the same scene.
"I'd like that," Lily said, but her smile faded as she continued speaking. "I know I shouldn't be, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid for us, and for my family, and for people like Nards who just want to take a stand against hatred and bigotry." She shook her head and sighed.
"It's okay to be afraid," James said, his expression earnest as he looked into Lily's eyes, which sparkled with more unshed tears. "How could you not be? I think everyone's afraid these days." He placed one hand on her shoulder and cupped her face with the other hand. "I'm afraid, too. But I also want you to know that I would die before I let anything happen to you."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he put a finger to her lips.
"I mean it. Hopefully it never comes to that, but if it does I will do anything I can to protect you. Although from what I can tell, I think you'd do all right protecting yourself." He raised his eyebrows. "I'd think twice before taking you on in a duel."
She smiled and swiped at her eyes. "I don't think I'd want to duel you, either." Her fingers toyed with a stray thread left behind by the blanket as her brow furrowed. "It just makes me so bloody angry that things like this are happening and I have to just go to Herbology and do prefect patrols like everything's fine. I want to do something. There's got to be something we can do!"
Her voice had risen as she spoke, and the sorrow in her eyes had been replaced by fury. In spite of himself, James felt a rush of admiration for her, because he loved this side of her and thought he had never seen her look so beautiful.
"We will do something," he said, leaning in to kiss her hot, tear-stained cheek. "I dunno what yet, but we'll figure it out. Because I feel the same way, and I can't just sit by and let this keep happening without trying to do something, anything, to stop it. So once we figure it out, we'll do something to try to stop all of this, and we'll do it together. All right?"
She nodded. "All right. Thanks, James. Merlin, how do you always know what to say to make me feel better?"
He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Just one of my many talents, I guess."
As he pulled the Map from his pocket and gave it a quick look, in case they were letting acts of deviance and debauchery go unpunished, Lily spread out the blanket on the floor and sprawled out with her head resting in her hand. She gazed up at him, exhaustion and sadness weighing on her face, and without her having to ask, James set down the Map and lay down next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, breathing in the scent of her hair and feeling her relax against him.
"It's going to be okay, Evans," he murmured into her ear as he rubbed slow circles on her back. "It's all going to be okay."
As she breathed out, releasing some of the tension that had built up in her body throughout the day, James repeated the words in his head, hoping that if he said it enough he would start to believe it himself.
Wednesday, November 9, 1977
The evening air was icy against Sirius's face as he sat staring out the window, watching the smoke from his cigarette curl away into the darkness. He reached for the flask that he had retrieved from his trunk and took a long sip, relishing the burn of the alcohol and the warmth that filled his throat. All day he had felt tightly wound, as though he might snap at the slightest provocation, but the nicotine and alcohol was beginning to ease some of the tension. He sank to the floor and leaned against the window ledge, grateful for the moment of solitude after a day spent trying to pretend everything was fine and normal when it was in fact the bloody opposite of fine and normal.
"There you are," Mary said, stepping into the dormitory and shutting the door behind her before crossing the room to join him by the window. "I was starting to wonder if you were ever coming back down."
"I wanted a cigarette," he said, a trace of irritation in his voice. "Is that all right?"
"Yeah," she said, shrugging and pulling a cigarette from the pack. "You just usually ask me to join you if you're going to smoke a cigarette, that's all."
"I just fancied being alone," he muttered, tapping his cigarette against the window ledge to dispel the ash.
"I can go, then," she said, rising to leave, but Sirius shook his head.
"Nah, stay," he said, gesturing for her to sit back down next to him.
They sat there smoking in silence for a minute, listening to the faint rustle of the wind stirring the few remaining leaves on the trees outside. Sirius reached for his flask to take another pull, and Mary raised her eyebrows.
"Drinking on a Wednesday night?" she asked.
"Yup," he said as he set the flask down and stubbed out his cigarette. "That all right?"
She shrugged again and helped herself to a sip from the flask. "It's as good a time as any, I suppose."
They sat there for a few minutes, taking occasional sips from the flask, before Sirius snapped the window shut and crossed the room to collapse onto his bed. After a moment's hesitation, Mary followed, slipping off her shoes and handing him the flask before stretching out beside him. Sirius felt some of the anger ebb away, because despite his determination to be furious at the world, it was difficult when faced with Mary's calm, no-nonsense presence.
"Sorry if I'm not very good company tonight," he muttered, gazing up at the ceiling. "It's just…" His voice trailed off as he failed to find words to adequately describe his state of mind, so he settled instead for another sip of firewhisky.
"I know," she said, resting her head on his chest as she had done so many times before. "It's all right."
"It's just so fucked up," Sirius continued, unsure if his words referred to Nards's death, or the situation going on outside of Hogwarts, or his own response to it all, or some combination of all three.
"I know," Mary said again, running her finger over the section of his shirt that concealed his scar.
"I just don't know what to fucking do," he went on. He could hear his voice rising, but he found he didn't care one bit. "Those people are out there doing this shit, the people that my own bloody brother aspires to be like, and I don't know what to fucking do about it."
Mary moved her hand up to run her fingers through Sirius's hair. "What do you want to do about it?"
He shrugged off her touch and sat up, clenching his hands into fists as he let the anger course through him. "I don't even know. All I know is I want to stop the people who want to kill you because of who your parents are and kill me because I think they're wrong. And I don't see how that can be done without fighting." He imagined himself dueling some unknown Death Eater, stepping in front of Mary to protect her, and was surprised to find the idea of dying for her, and for this cause, did not seem that far-fetched. He was even more surprised to find himself thinking, I would kill someone for her, for this, if I had to. The thought frightened him so much that the anger evaporated, leaving him feeling empty and exhausted, and he lay back down with his head resting near her head, hoping she would resume the calming motion of her fingers.
"Once we leave Hogwarts I think there's plenty that you can do," she said, returning to running her fingers through Sirius's hair. "And you're right, it will probably involve fighting. I've never seen you duel, but I have a feeling it would be terrifying, because you know all sorts of advanced magic, and you don't give a fuck and aren't afraid of anything."
She paused to glance at him, and he couldn't help but grin at her assessment, even though strictly speaking he was afraid of plenty of things.
"But for now, I think the only course of action is to get through however you can," she continued. "And if that means getting drunk on a Wednesday night, then I guess we're getting drunk on a Wednesday night."
Sirius turned to look at Mary, noticing the way her hair fell into her face and spilled across his chest. She had even more reason to be angry, and yet Sirius was the one resisting the urge to punch the wall while she comforted him and ran her fingers through his hair. The last remnants of his anger faded away, and he felt the weight of his feelings for her clamoring to be spoken aloud. That would be too much emotional strain for one day, however, so instead he took another sip from the flask and tugged on a stray curl.
"I wouldn't say no to getting stoned, too, if you're on board," he said, grinning and passing her the flask.
Remus stepped through the portrait hole and set off for the kitchen, carrying an empty bag that he planned to fill with food for a post-Quidditch snack. James had bustled around during dinner, making sure his team ate a proper meal before practice, but Remus had not seen him eat more than a few bites. Lily had made a big fuss over James, and yet she had barely touched her food, either. Heaving a sigh, Remus rounded a corner, so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost walked right into Seven.
"Hi," she said, brightening at the sight of him, although he noticed she was paler than usual and had dark circles under her eyes. "Where are you headed?"
"Kitchens," he said. "I figured practice must be almost over so I'm going to go get some snacks. We usually do it on Mondays because those seem to be the hardest practices, but I have a feeling today's practice was a bit rough."
"Well, the weather didn't help," she admitted. "We were all soaked and freezing before we even got down to the pitch. And yeah, morale's a bit low. James actually offered us the night off of practice, which is virtually unheard of, but nobody took him up on the offer. I think everyone was afraid of letting him down, you know? So anyway, you're absolutely right, it's a good night for after practice snacks."
"Can you get away for a bit? I'll go get snacks and come back to the common room to deliver them, then I could meet you in the reading spot. I'll bring you back a biscuit or two."
The words were out of his mouth before he had time to second guess himself, but his smile faltered as he realized she might prefer to spend time alone or with her friends.
"Unless you don't want to, that is," he amended, trying to sound off-hand. "I understand if you'd rather-"
"I'll meet you there in twenty minutes," she said, grinning. "I'll take a chocolate biscuit, if they have any."
"All right," he said, and again he acted without thinking, wrapping her in a hug and pulling her close. She felt impossibly tiny and insubstantial in his arms, and he felt the simultaneous urge to hold her close and protect her, but also to release her lest he crush her in his embrace. "I've been wanting to do that since yesterday," he admitted when he pulled away, feeling slightly self-conscious. "But I couldn't find the opportunity."
She smiled. "I needed that," she said, and Remus noticed that she now looked a bit less weary and weighed down. "I'll see you in a bit."
Remus had never made it to the kitchens so fast. He took every shortcut he knew and jumped the last few stairs, then tried not to show his impatience as the house elves plied him with snacks. By the time he reached Gryffindor Tower again he had broken into a run, and he had to take a moment to arrange his face into a neutral expression before giving the password and stepping through into the common room.
"That was fast," Peter said, reaching out to guide the thermos of hot chocolate Remus was levitating onto the table. "Prongs just got back. He went up to the dormitory to check on Padfoot."
"He's still up there, then?" Remus asked, frowning.
Peter nodded. "I think he's doing his usual chain smoking, drinking, brooding thing that he'd normally do on the Astronomy Tower, except it's raining, so he had to settle for the dormitory instead."
"You'd think the rain would just add to the broodiness," he said with a wry smile, but his face turned serious again as he caught sight of Lily. A book lay open in her lap, but he would be willing to bet she hadn't turned the page since he'd left to get snacks. "Lily, I brought hot chocolate," he said, gesturing down at the steaming thermos on the table.
"Thanks, Remus," she said, glancing up from her book to give him a weak smile before turning her gaze downward again.
"Make sure she and Prongs have some," he muttered. "Padfoot and Mary, too, if they come back down. Even if they try to argue. I know I say this every time, but-"
"Yeah, I know, the chocolate will help," Peter said with a grin. "But won't you be here to force hot chocolate down their throats yourself?"
Remus shook his head, unable to meet Peter's eye. "I thought I'd go to the library for a bit. I can't think in here. It's too…"
"I know," Peter said, nodding. "Go ahead. I'll make sure they all eat something."
As Remus met his gaze he thought he detected a knowing glint that went beyond understanding the need to escape the somber atmosphere of the common room, but he was too eager to see Seven to analyze that now.
"Thanks," he said, flashing Peter a grateful smile before slipping out of the common room and hurrying down the corridor.
"You made good time," Seven said as Remus pushed aside the tapestry and stepped into the dim atmosphere of the tiny room. "I only just got here."
"I didn't want your hot chocolate to get cold," Remus said, pulling a second thermos and two mugs from his bag and setting them on the floor next to the pile of pillows and blankets before producing a selection of biscuits wrapped in a tea towel. "Also, I got you three chocolate biscuits because two didn't seem adequate."
"You're the best," she said, smiling and gesturing for him to join her.
He slid in beside her and tucked a blanket over their legs before pouring them each a mug of hot chocolate and handing her a biscuit. They sat in silence for a minute, sipping the steaming hot chocolate and enjoying the closeness of their legs pressed together.
"The chocolate is definitely helping," Seven said after she had eaten the last bite of her biscuit and brushed the crumbs from her lap.
"It always does," Remus said, grinning. He took one last sip of his hot chocolate and set the mug down beside him, then laced his fingers through Seven's and met her gaze. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She sighed, then set down her mug and shook her head. "I'm okay. I'm mostly worried about James, to be honest."
"He'll be okay," Remus assured her, although he couldn't shake the memory of the grim, helpless expression on James's face when he had first seen the Daily Prophet article. "He's resilient."
"I know." She slid down onto her back and rested her arms behind her head. "But do you get the feeling he's trying too hard to act like he's fine for everyone else's sake?"
Remus lay down and rolled onto his side to face her. "That does sound like a James thing to do, actually."
"By the end of practice I was afraid he was about to pass out," she admitted, turning to face him. "I had to tell him it was probably time to end practice, because his hands were so numb from the cold he could barely grip his broom. And even then he insisted he was going to stay and train a bit longer, and I only convinced him not to when I said Lily would come looking for him." She toyed with the end of her braid and bit her lip. "I want to help him, but I don't know how."
Remus leaned over and kissed her, longing to erase the worry from her face. "I'll talk to Lily. She might be able to get through to him." He moved closer to her and rested his hand on her waist. "But you're okay?"
She hesitated, and for a moment Remus saw the fierce, stubborn determination slip to reveal a glimpse of vulnerability underneath. But then she took a deep breath and her face hardened, and she was the same girl who had won a Quidditch game with three broken ribs and knew every one of James's ridiculous team rules by heart.
"I'll be fine," she said, snaking her arms around him and nestling her body closer to his. "I've been thinking about it nonstop since yesterday morning. It might be nice to take my mind off it for a bit, you know?"
Remus smiled, feeling her touch drive away the sadness and fear he had been trying to ignore all day. "I love that idea," he murmured before setting to work taking her mind off the dark events of the previous day.
Thursday, November 10, 1977
Dear Mum,
I hope your week is going well. It's rained here the past three days, but I really can't complain because the only time I've had to go outside was for Herbology. James had Quidditch practice in the rain last night for nearly three hours. The team was practically frozen when they finally came inside, but James insists on playing Quidditch no matter what the weather, and Gryffindor just had a brilliant first match against Slytherin, so he does know what he's talking about even if the rest of us think he's mad.
I'm writing because I know you've cancelled your subscription to The Daily Prophet and might not have heard, and I promised I'd keep you informed if anything important happened.
Peter stared down at the letter, frowning as he struggled to find the right words to explain the attack. Three crumpled pieces of parchment lay at his feet, the evidence of his unsatisfactory attempts. Of course, she had probably heard about the attack on the radio, or perhaps her friend Martha had written to tell her, but if she hadn't heard, he didn't feel even remotely qualified to break such heavy news to his own mother. She'll be worried and afraid and all alone, and all I can do to comfort her is write a bloody letter.
Sighing, he reread his last sentence, then threw down his quill in irritation and stood up.
"Is that the Transfiguration essay you're working on?" James asked, looking up from his own homework.
"No," Peter said, and he couldn't help but notice the slight artificial quality to James's usual grin. "I mean, yes, it is, but I've got to take a break from it. It's making my brain hurt."
James chuckled. "I know the feeling. Do you want to play a round of Exploding Snap or something?"
"Nah, I think I'll just go for a walk," Peter said, praying none of them would offer to go with him. "Clear my head a bit before I take another crack at it."
"Feel free to take a look at my essay when you get back, if you like," James said. "I'm just about finished."
"Keep your wits about you," Lily cautioned, glancing up from her book and raising her eyebrows. "Aubrey and Snape are on patrol tonight. They'd love to dock points from you if they get the chance."
"I'll be careful," Peter promised before fleeing the common room for the hushed solitude of the corridor.
He breathed a sigh of relief, glad to leave the strained atmosphere of the common room behind. Setting off down the corridor, he checked that nobody had seen him before ducking into an empty room to transform. In rat form his emotions were less complex, so his worries were fainter and easier to ignore. He knew he would be forced to face them again as soon as he changed back, but he enjoyed the brief reprieve as he wandered along the deserted corridors with no particular destination in mind. The castle was always quiet at this time of night, but tonight it felt abandoned, almost haunted, and soon the comforting silence turned eerie.
Peter's feet led him to the kitchens before his brain registered where he was going, but once he saw the familiar sight of the fruit painting he realized this was what he had needed all along. Once he had transformed in his usual spot and stepped into the high-ceilinged room to be greeted by the house elves, the sense of overwhelming solitude and loneliness eased, replaced by the peace that baking always brought him. As the house elves gathered ingredients for him, he took a deep breath, then exhaled and breathed out some of the anxiety that had been plaguing him all evening before setting to work.
Measuring and combining the ingredients took his full concentration; it was possible to bake with his mind on other things, but the results were never more than mediocre. This was fine by him, as it was refreshing to let everything fade from his mind except the amount of flour needed or the right speed at which to cream together butter and sugar. Tonight he slid easily into the trancelike state he achieved as he chopped, mixed, and simmered ingredients. By the time he slid a pie into the oven he was feeling unburdened and peaceful.
As he sat down to wait for it to bake, however, the doubt and worry came creeping back into his mind. He thought of the unfinished letter he had discarded back in the common room, running through the meager sentences he had written and the devastating news he still had to impart. His inability to find the right words nagged at him, and he turned his thoughts to the tense, hushed conversations that had taken place over the last couple of days. Amid the sadness and fear and uncertainty they all felt, an idea had started to take shape, born from the anger and indignation at the bigoted ideology that had led to this tragedy, an urge to do something to fight back against the injustice and hatred that threatened to tear their society apart. Peter was not sure how exactly this would be accomplished, but it seemed clear that it would not be done peacefully.
What use would I be if this comes to fighting? he thought, rising and opening the oven to check on the pie. I don't stand a bloody chance in a duel. Any time he had been forced to defend himself had ended in disaster unless his friends had stepped in, but they wouldn't always be around to save him. Even if they were there to protect him, would they even want to, or would they feel burdened by the responsibility of looking out for their weaker friend? How can I be of any use in stopping this if I can't even block a spell or hex someone properly?
Sighing in frustration, he began to gather the ingredients for a cake, longing for the soothing, focused mindset that would allow him to put these worries aside. Before he could stop himself he had made a cake, another pie, and two batches of biscuits. As he waited for them to finish baking he took a deep breath and forced himself to tackle his problems head-on. Now that he had given his mind a break to focus on the logical, precise process of baking, he felt that it would be easier to make sense of the disparate, scattered fragments of his worries. First he considered the unfinished letter to his mother, puzzling over the right approach and the correct wording until he finally had a basic outline in his mind. Next he turned his attention to the dueling issue. He considered asking one of his friends to train with him, but the idea was so humiliating that he dismissed it. No, he would have to do this on his own somehow, and he resolved to find time to sneak away and practice.
As he stood there, surrounded by the cooling baked goods he had no idea what to do with, Peter felt weary but satisfied. He hadn't fully solved his problems or left his worries behind, but as he trudged back to the common room, laden with pies and biscuits that were still warm, he took comfort from the fact that he at least had some semblance of a plan. When he reached the portrait hole he took a deep breath, savoring his last moment of quiet solitude, before stepping through into the common room and preparing to explain the baked goods to any of his friends who were still up.
"I'm glad you're still up," he said, spotting Remus, Sirius, and Mary sitting in their usual spots in front of the fire. "I stopped by the kitchens and the house elves went a bit overboard."
Friday, November 11, 1977
The silence of the locker room pressed in on James as he sat on the bench in front of his locker, trying to muster the energy to stand up and head back to the castle. He had sent his teammates on without him, claiming that he needed to make changes to the plays for the next match and he would lose his train of thought if he did not do so immediately. This had been a lie and he suspected they knew it, but they had left him alone after he had fixed them with his most intimidating glare. Now he had been staring at the floor for the better part of fifteen minutes, wondering how long he could get away with staying here before his friends came looking for him.
As if she had heard his thoughts, Lily opened the door and crossed the room to sit beside him. She wore an uncertain expression and had her hands clasped in front of her as she approached.
"Sorry, am I interrupting?" she asked. "I can go, I just got worried when all of your teammates came back and you still hadn't. I was going to ask Seven, but she disappeared somewhere, I assume to meet up with Remus." When he didn't reply she frowned and put a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?"
He sighed and nodded, trying to pull himself together. Her unexpected arrival had thrown him off, because he had not had his usual buffer time to fix a casual grin on his face and repress the vague, unmoored feeling that had plagued him this week.
"I'm fine. Just needed to go over some of the Quidditch plays without any distractions," he said, flashing her a reassuring smile.
"I know the face you make when you run Quidditch plays in your head, and that's not it," she said, frowning. She reached over and took his hand, then turned to look at him, her eyes full of concern. "You don't have to keep it together all the time, you know. It's okay to be sad and angry and just bloody fall apart. Merlin knows I do it, and I know I can always count on you for a shoulder to cry on, literally. So let me do the same for you."
He shook his head and tried to keep his smile from slipping. "I already fell apart last month when you told me you didn't want to be with me. I was sad and mopey and everybody rallied around me and it was a whole bloody thing, so I think I've met my falling apart quota for at least the rest of this year."
"There's no quota," she said, rolling her eyes. "Otherwise Sirius would have reached it ages ago." She studied him for a moment, her green eyes piercing into his until he blinked and looked away, trying to shake the vague sense that she could tell exactly what he was thinking. "I could be talking out of my arse, but I think you feel like you have to have it together all the time because everyone else expects you to, because you're James Potter and nothing phases you. If you're faced with a problem, you just think it over and come up with a plan. And if you don't know how to handle something, if you don't have it all together, you're afraid the entire group will fall apart, or everyone will be disappointed in you, or-"
James was so taken aback by how accurate her assessment was that he sat there gaping at her for a minute before he gathered his thoughts enough to interrupt her. "Evans," he said, putting a hand on her knee. "I don't feel that way."
" I can tell I'm right from the look on your face," she said, and her smile conveyed a hint of sadness. "I'm just trying to say that it's understandable that you feel that way, but it's not true. Nobody's going to be disappointed in you if you're having a tough time with this. Nobody's going to have an existential crisis because something phases you. We just want to be here for you, because you're always there for all of us, and because we care about you and want to help you through this."
"I'm fine, Evans," he said, but even as he said it he felt that his grin had taken on a fixed, artificial quality. He looked into Lily's eyes, bright with concern and silently pleading with him to let all the pent up emotion come pouring out, and he felt his resolve start to crumble.
"All right, you're fine," she said, squeezing his hand. "But maybe it would be good to talk about it. Maybe it would be good to tell me about some of the good times you had with Nards, to remember her, you know?"
The warmth of her hand around his and the encouragement in her smile dissolved what was left of his self-restraint, and he found to his surprise that he actually wanted to talk. A particular memory floated into his mind, and he ran a hand through his hair and started speaking.
"She was actually the one who made me realize I needed to change," he began. "Well, besides you. It was on the train home, just a few days after you shouted at me down at the lake that time, and this sort of odd Hufflepuff bloke wandered into our compartment…"
The story tumbled out, and he found himself smiling, a real, genuine smile, despite the aching sadness that grew stronger as he spoke. When he finished that story he launched into another, describing Quidditch triumphs and failures, important events and insignificant moments that nevertheless stuck in his mind. He told her about a time Nards had been so distracted by seeing Sirius shirtless that she hit another player in the head with her Beater's bat, and the time he had taken a Bludger for her during a match that resulted in a broken arm, and the time she had called him out for letting his feelings for Lily affect his Quidditch performance. When he ran out of stories he sighed and rested his head on Lily's shoulder. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, but he also felt a sense of relief.
"Thanks, Evans," he said, feeling his lips tug up into a smile as she ran a hand through his hair. "That did help a lot, actually."
He could keep talking, rage about how she had her whole Quidditch career ahead of her and a wedding planned for the following summer and how unfair it all was, but somehow Lily seemed to understand all of that without him having to voice it out loud.
"I knew it would," she said, and although he couldn't see her face, he could tell she was grinning. "You should listen to me more often instead of being a stubborn prat." She kissed the top of his head. "You haven't showered yet, have you?"
He turned to look at her, frowning. "Are you trying to tell me I smell bad?"
"No, of course not," she said, laughing. "I was just thinking we could go to the prefects' bathroom, if you'd like to, that is."
She looked at him with that familiar glint in his eye, and he felt his sadness slipping away. He knew it was not gone forever, more like pushed aside for the time being, but he didn't care. Tonight he was content to be distracted from his grief by the hot, soapy bubbles and Lily's body hidden beneath them.
"I would very much like to," he said, standing up and reaching for her hand to lead her back up to the castle. As they walked hand in hand through the dark grounds, he looked over at her and smiled, grateful for her ability to help him face his problems and for her willingness to distract him from them when he'd reached his limit. She really is bloody amazing, he thought, smiling to himself.