Petal in the Rain
Chapter 23 – The Equinox
"I'm always in this twilight…in the shadow of your heart."
-Florence and the Machine
9:30 p.m.
Ballroom music swelled like a sleeping tidal wave, the blood-rushing sound of drums spilling onto the Dining Hall's marble dance floor. There—amidst the beautiful rumbles and trills of the commanding harmony—Lily danced, aware that a death eater lurked a mere stone-throw away. As the tormenting bolero gradually amplified, slick bows awakening to glide across oiled violin frames, panic distended in her chest, the low, menacing growl of the death eater's voice the solitary melody propelling her feet forward.
"I'd be careful if I were you, Lady Rockford. You won't always have your uncle to protect you…"
Beyond the constant, rhythmic beat of the band's bass instruments, the steady tinkering of a concert grand piano resonated, soft and poignant enough to silence the crowd that had begun to collect around the whimsical dancers. The gentle toying of the keys mingled with the shadows of the night Lily would never forget; the night Lucius Malfoy had entered her room, ever so quietly, intent on abducting her. Eerily vivid, she could still recall his boots crunching against the broken glass scattered across the attic floor—the devastated fragments of the protective locket her murdered parents had left her as a child.
"The Dark Lord will not be pleased. He expected to have the girl by tonight. He has been waiting to find her for a long time…"
Lily squeezed her eyes shut, suppressing an unnervingly shiver. She had barely eluded Malfoy and Wilkes that night; yet now she danced mere metres away from one of the deadly men who had since beleaguered her nightmares, her delicately-woven disguise dangling before her on the end of a silken thread.
"We'll have the nuns hand her over to us; no one will even notice her missing…"
Lucius Malfoy…a name Lily had locked away in her subconscious along with the other disturbing memories of that fateful day.
"MALFOY! SHE'S DOWN HERE, SHE'S—"
Lily awoke from her bone-chilling stupor when Frank dipped her elegantly toward the floor, the song's crescendo filling the Hall—which was slowly beginning to seep back into focus. Without even realizing it, she and Frank had been moving in perfect sync with one another, rising and falling in unison with the musician's haunting composition. Though they had not kept eye contact, both too distracted by grave thoughts of dark wizards, they had unwittingly moved across the dance floor, Frank lifting Lily at the correct intervals and Lily twirling on cue. Guests had watched their tantalizing dance in wonderment, feasting their greedy eyes upon society's newest power couple.
Gleeful cheers and enthusiastic applause erupted from the crowd as the young dancers performed their finishing steps, winding down into poised, articulate positions once the music concluded. After a moment's pause, Frank straightened up from his dance pose, sweeping Lily upright with him. They locked eyes for a brief moment, each communicating their apprehension as the ovation rose up around them like thunder.
"Bravo! Let us give our young danseurs another round of applause!" Dumbledore's ripened voice echoed across the elaborately festooned Hall, closely followed by cheers and handclapping.
Feeling disjointed—Dumbledore's voice like an otherworldly hymn—Lily was lifted from her lethargy by the stern sound of Frank's voice. "Aurora…I must speak to Dumbledore about Malfoy. Go request another glass of champagne for yourself; I'll meet you across the room in ten minutes. Stay as far away from Malfoy as possible."
Aware that he was ordering rather than requesting her to do as she was told, Lily merely nodded, her mind still elsewhere. Frank bowed toward her, kissing her hand as etiquette required, and whispered urgently, "Promise me you'll keep out of trouble?"
Lily blinked, the sense of foreboding festering in the pit of her stomach deepening as Frank's fingers slipped out of her grasp. She looked up into Frank's worried face and blankly nodded. "Yes—of course."
Unconvinced, Frank stopped Lily before she could turn away from him, placing a comforting hand on her bare shoulder. Quiet desperation reflected behind her neutral eyes; she yearned for escape from the hustle and bustle of the gala, agitation impelling her toward tears.
"What is it, Frank?"
"I just wanted to say…that…that you danced beautifully tonight," The blonde lord unexpectedly whispered in Lily's ear, the warmth of his breath causing shivers to run down her neck.
As he pulled back to look at her, his hand tenderly resting on her face, Lily's stomach dropped; his cerulean eyes communicated subdued worry, unparalleled bravery, and another indescribable emotion—a pale imitation of the passion she had once seen reflected in the eyes of the only man she'd ever loved…
Frozen in disbelief, Lily suspended all movement as Frank bridged the space between them and softly pressed his lips to her's. Torn between horror and pleasure, Lily reflexively closed her eyes and allowed him to gently caress her lips with his own, remaining ever still as he chastely lingered on her mouth before breaking away. A blush crept to her cheeks as he retracted and watched for her reaction, his lips swollen from the exchange. Realizing she had to remain in character due to the setting, Lily managed a meek smile—an expression which did not accurately represent the irrefutable guilt that was parasitizing in her gut.
"I'll be right back...be safe," Frank whispered, his eyes brimming with unresolved longing as he let Lily go and disappeared into the surrounding crowd of tuxedos.
I told you I'd wait for you, James. I'm sorry…
9:30 p.m.
"Merlin, Black—you're only four hours late!" Fabian Prewett growled as he and his twin brother, Gideon, sank into silver-swayed chairs at Sirius' empty table.
Sirius—who had drunkenly laid his dishevelled head to rest on the immaculately set table, his fingers still clasped around the stem of a half-finished champagne glass—inelegantly bolted into an upright position, startled from his alcoholic blitz. Rubbing his tender eyes, he offered Fabian an inebriated smirk, too tipsy to care about the redhead's patronizing tone.
"Ah, it's you two again. As I said before, it's called being fashionably late, Prewett," Sirius announced, blearily clambering to his feet: Fabian and Gideon arose as well, regarding him as if he were a howler on the verge of explosion. "What've I missed? Has anyone flashed about their dark mark yet? Shall I perform a citizen's arrest—?"
"Would you keep your voice down?" Fabian hissed, his face beginning to match the colour of his fiery hair. He stepped closer to Sirius, his eyes threateningly boring into him. "If you're too drunk to carry out your mission, Black, then you'd best go home. The Order doesn't need a fool like you endangering everything we've worked so hard to achieve."
Sirius rolled his eyes at Fabian's attempt at authority and comically leaned into Gideon, the more laid-back of the two brothers. "Looks like your brother is gunning for Dumbledore's job, eh Gideon? You can tell he was a prefect in his school days. Question is, do you really think Fabian can pull off those star-spangled magenta robes our dear headmaster often wears?"
Following Gideon's snorts of amusement, applause flared from the crowd that had collected around the glorious dance floor, interrupting Fabian's glowers and tearing Sirius' clouded attention away from the twins. As his chestnut eyes roamed the assembly of well-dress guests, Sirius begrudgingly noticed his snobbish cousin, Lady Narcissa Black, and his conceited brother, Lord Regulus Black, amongst the young dancers gathered in the middle of the floor. He grunted humorously when he noticed his brother's dance partner—Lady Violetta Bulstrode—well aware that Regulus had been forced to escort the pug-faced girl to the Gala by his parents.
That's what you get for kissing mummy and daddy's arse, dear brother…
Previous argument aside, Fabian and Gideon quietly fell into step with Sirius' watchful gaze, all three wizards surveying the effervescent gathering. Sobered by the sight of his not-so-beloved family members, Sirius pulled a flask of pepper-up potion from his suit jacket and downed the contents. As the minty-flavoured liquid seeped into his stomach and caused his legless vision to suddenly clear, his eyes happened to befall the same purple-clad girl he had witnessed dancing with Frank Longbottom earlier that evening…
"Malfoy, Rosier and Rowle are all here. No sign of Lestrange—although we didn't think he'd show his face in society again after Remus unmasked him during that skirmish a few weeks back. Intelligence has reported that his estate has been abandoned. We assume he's living alongside He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now," Fabian mumbled to Sirius, catching a whiff of his flask and visibly relaxing.
"Bella must be thrilled," Sirius muttered acrimoniously, folding his arms and popping a chizpurfle canapé into his mouth as a house-elf wielding a tray walked by. He frowned as he chewed, his gradually sobering mind resentfully returning to thoughts of James leaving for Australia. "Well, we better get to it. I'll start with—"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Please excuse me—"
Sirius balked as a girl flew past him and clumsily rammed her shoulder into his arm. Dressed in an extraordinary dress adorned with intricate lace, the woman briefly turned toward Sirius and flashed him an apologetic smile before turning toward her intended destination. Tongue-tied, Sirius watched as Frank Longbottom's dance partner spirited away, unsure as to why he felt a sudden sense of familiarity.
Who is she?
"Is everything alright, Lady Rockford?" Gideon called out after the girl, though she was too far away to hear his chivalrous cry. "She seemed in an awful hurry, didn't she, Fabian?"
"I hope Malfoy isn't bothering her again," Fabian uttered protectively, Sirius looking between the twins in befuddlement. "Perhaps we should go and check on her—"
"Hold up; who the bloody hell is Lady Rockford?" Sirius blurted out, rubbing his arm in displeasure as his eyes followed the back of the girl's head through the crowd. "I've never heard of her before…"
"Seems nobody has. She's Dumbledore's niece—lived in Canada previously," Gideon replied matter-of-factly, crossing his arms. "Just arrived here a month ago. Fabian and I met her before the dance began. It appears she and Longbottom are already a couple."
"Since when does Dumbledore have a niece?" Sirius inquired suspiciously, unable to shake the bizarre feeling Lady Rockford has awoken within him.
"You know Dumbledore; he's very private about his family," Fabian noted, arching his neck to try and get another glimpse of the disappeared lady. "She's a lovely girl—surprisingly bright. She gave Narcissa and Lucius a run for their money about an hour ago; it was truly an entertaining spectacle."
"It's not that surprising; she is related to Dumbledore after all," Gideon piped up, a grin spreading over his stubbled face. "Merlin, you should have seen Malfoy's face—I've never seen the man's resolve so shaken. The girl's a testament to the Dumbledore family."
"How the hell did she manage that? What did she say to him?" Sirius demanded abrasively, his budding curiosity about the mysterious girl making him feel anxious and uneasy.
"Well, first she insinuated that Malfoy belonged to a powerless and insignificant wizarding family, and then she went on to imply that—er—the Black family is a cast of inbreeds," Gideon explained circumspectly, quickly realizing his retelling of events could potentially offend Sirius.
There was a prolonged pause between the three men; then, quite abruptly, Sirius burst into fiendish laughter—a scene which caused many onlookers to take notice of him for the first time. Wiping tears of mirth from his handsome face, he finally exclaimed, "She…really…said…that? HA! Brilliant! I've got to go meet this one—I'll see you two later."
Without excuse or explanation, Sirius departed Fabian and Gideon and headed toward the food tables, intent on meeting the fearsome niece of Lord Albus Dumbledore.
10:00 p.m.
Dazed, Lily had managed to make her way across the richly decorated dance floor to the food tables located on the opposite end of the Dining Hall. Still in shock from Frank's unexpected kiss—a kiss that had felt decidedly genuine, despite their fictitious relationship—Lily haphazardly snatched what she thought was a flute of champagne off of one of the buffet tables and downed the contents, her guilt driving her to seek refuge in a bottle.
I've betrayed him…
As the foreign liquid seeped down Lily's throat, her eyes suddenly widened, her throat and tongue aflame with the taste of whiskey. Attempting to mask her impolite hacking from onlookers, she located an actual glass of champagne to numb the burning of the alcohol. When she recovered from her blunder, Lily glared at the empty glass once holding the unknown substance, massaging her throat with her free hand.
"Not a fan of firewhiskey, Lady Rockford?"
Surprised, Lily recoiled, a chipper male voice sounding from behind her. When she turned—her hand still clutching her throbbing throat—she came face-to-face with a striking young man of Latin heritage. As she stared at him, her astonishment evident and words escaping her, he smirked mischievously, his hazel eyes sparkling with natural flecks of bronze.
"Dear me, I'm sorry; it seems that dreadful alcohol has numbed my brain," Lily finally mustered in mortification, blushing as the boy began to chuckle.
"I suppose firewhiskey is an acquired taste. I'm afraid I drink it so often that I'm almost immune to its initial sizzle," the boy grinned merrily, extending a casual hand toward Lily. "I wanted to come over and introduce myself before your uncle swooped in and insisted on presenting you to another dreary ministry official—my name is Rudolph Brand."
Lily allowed the boy to kiss her hand, her blush beginning to fade. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Brand. I'm sorry I didn't make a better first impression."
"Don't be silly; I love a woman who can drink," Rudolph waved off Lily's embarrassment, his mouth settling into a grin. "Hang around me and I'll have you immune to the hard stuff in no time flat. You may end up with a hole in your stomach and a failing liver, but I guarantee you'll be wildly respected in the pubs."
Lily giggled, Lord Rudolph Brand's presence putting her frazzled nerves at ease. She wasn't sure why, but she felt naturally drawn to the boy's easy grace and playful attitude. "Do you offer drinking educations to all the young ladies, Lord Brand?"
"Please, don't call me that. My friends call me 'Rue' or 'Brand'. I can't stand my title," the bronze-skinned boy insisted nonchalantly. "And to answer your question, no. Most ladies your age are too uptight for such a…practical form of instruction. But you, Lady Rockford, strike me as quite different from the rest of those neurotic harpies."
Lily nearly spat out the champagne she had been sipping, Lord Brand's description of society women tickling her funny bone. "Neurotic harpies? You have a talent for oration, Rue."
"I think outside of the box," Lord Brand smiled clandestinely, piquing Lily's interest.
"Do tell; what makes you think I'm so different?" Lily inquired innocently, though she silently hoped he could not see straight through her flimsy disguise.
"I like to think I have a nose for who people really are," Lord Brand said somewhat mysteriously, his hazel eyes surreptitiously sparkling. "I myself am not like every other male aristocrat, though I won't go into detail just now. Ultimately, I think you're unique from the others because I am unique. The moment I saw you I felt drawn to you—like a besotted moth to a flame."
Instead of feeling overwhelmed by Lord Brand's forthright statement or deciphering his honesty as a creepy attempt at seduction, Lily found Lord Brand to be refreshingly honest. His actions weren't those of an fop; rather, Lily found Rudolph Brand to be curiously genuine.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Lily smiled fully, her eyes softening with unexpected affection.
"Please do—one doesn't come across too many sincere compliments in a setting such as this," Lord Brand winked affably.
Without warning, a squeaky house-elf waddled over to Lily and Rudolph, her little rubber shoes scuffing the floors as she hurried forward. "M-M-Master Dumbledore asked Kiki to tell M-M-Mistress Rockford that he would like M-M-Mistress to join him for a toast."
"Thank you, Kiki. I'll be right over," Lily said kindly to the stuttering elf, fearing for the fretful little creature. "I suppose I must go join my uncle. It was a pleasure meeting you, Rue. I hope to see you again soon?"
"The brightest stars always gravitate toward one another, for when they are together they feel like a match for the sun," Lord Brand said whimsically, kissing Lily's hand and winking. "I'm certain I'll stumble upon you torturing your liver again soon, Lady Rockford."
"Aurora…it's Aurora," Lily said warmly. "Until then, fellow star."
Lord Brand bowed cordially and turned to leave, his ember scent lingering in his trail as he assimilated back into the surrounding crowd. Lily sighed, his smoky cologne helping to temporarily relieve her of the combined stress of Frank Longbottom, Lucius Malfoy and James Potter…
"So this is the courtier who isn't afraid to put a Black in their place…"
The familiarity of the voice that sounded from behind Lily sent unexpected quivers down her exposed back. The sultry way the speaker formed every word—the way his tone teetered on the verge of mockery, a leg-pulling joke and tormenting laugh not far from his lips—ignited a picture in Lily's clever mind; a picture of a boy whom she had not factored into her revelations earlier that day.
My god, is it even possible…?
The calming scent of Rudolph Brand lost to her nose, the colourful room before her started to spin, dizziness causing her eyes to sting. Though she kept her back turned, unable to confront the man due to her uncontrollable vertigo, he continued to speak proudly. "I must say, Lady Rockford, I rarely find myself impressed by female aristocrats, but anyone who can put my ice queen of a cousin in her place is deserving of my praise."
Related to Narcissa…a wizard…just like James…
"Lady Rockford?"
He knows who I am…he's going to recognize me and blow apart my disguise…
"Lady Rockford, have you not heard a word I've said to you?"
God help me…what am I going to do?
"I…I have, Lord Black," Lily whispered deftly, clutching her writhing stomach as she willed herself to face a man who was on the brink of ruining all of Dumbledore's plans and exposing her true identity.
"Ah, so you've heard of me," Sirius smiled triumphantly, waiting for the shy girl to turn around and meet his gaze. "I expect you've heard the other noblewoman speaking of me. I assure you, nothing they say is true—well, at least not all of it…"
"No, I haven't heard of you, Lord Black…but we have met before," Lily said breathlessly, pressing her hands to her chest to keep them from trembling.
"Met before? No, surely not. I would have remembered the niece of Albus Dumbledore. But why don't you turn and show me your face? I will know then," Sirius suggested, a mixture of charm, curiosity and agitation colouring his voice. Lily could tell he sensed something was amiss.
You must be brave…
Heart pounding viciously in her chest, Lily mustered the strength to turn around and confront the best friend of her lost love. When her eyes finally locked with Sirius' bewildered brown ones—a moment which seemed devoid of time—the rest of the Dining Hall seemed to fade away. Looking just as he had on the night she and Roxanne had snuck out of St. Madeline's—a memory from an altogether different period in her life, it seemed—Lily nearly choked out a sob, the boy's appearance solidifying all she had come to realize earlier that day: James Potter was a wizard, just as she was.
"Don't you recognize me, Sirius?" Lily whispered desperately, her eyes mirroring the trepidation she felt.
Sirius did not speak straight away; his eyes roamed Lily's face with the utmost incredulity, moistening with every passing second. Despite her changed appearance, she knew Sirius did indeed recognize her, the deepening creases in his forehead and the disbelief mirroring in his eyes indication enough. The longer he wordlessly scrutinized her, the more worried Lily became; he seemed to be waging an internal war with himself, fighting against a truth he could not comprehend.
When Sirius finally managed to speak, Lily shivered, his barely-audible voice reduced to a threatening growl. "What the hell is going on here?"
Oh god…can I trust him with the truth?
"Please don't make a scene, Sirius. I-I-I can explain," Lily's voice trembled as she whispered feverishly to the handsome man, whose face was gradually flushing with inexplicable rage.
"James thinks you're dead," Sirius hissed menacingly, his eyes dark with fury. "What the fuck were you doing, parading around as a muggle? What is this twisted game you're playing?"
Lily's heart dropped, mention of James causing tears to suddenly well in her eyes. She reached out for Sirius and clutched his wrist tightly, desperation and pain dimming her pretty face. She didn't care how angry he was with her, despair suddenly ballooning within her, "Sirius…James…is he…is he alive?"
The skin around Sirius' eyes crinkled as he interpreted the fusion of terror and trauma on Lily's face. When the question slipped from her tongue she swayed slightly, her face flushed with upset. Still furious, Sirius reluctantly grasped Lily's arm to steady her, his face communicating the distrust he felt. "Of course he is. He's been looking for you."
Tears uncontrollably collected in the corners of Lily's eyes, news that James was alive and searching for her causing repressed happiness and hope to abruptly rise from the ashes of her decimated dreams. Overwhelmed by Sirius' presence and his admission about James, she knew she could not discipline the emotion on her face for much longer.
Lily whispered to Sirius pleadingly. "I am in danger, Sirius. I cannot give away my true identity. We must find somewhere quiet to talk; then I will explain everything."
"Danger? Who endangers you?" Sirius breathed conspiratorially, his wrath slowly lessening as her paranoia began to temper his mood.
"I can't say…there are too many people watching us," Lily murmured back, her blue eyes alive with worry; she looked around at the surrounding crowd, knowing Frank would come looking for her at any moment, "We must hurry. Dumbledore and Frank will come for me soon."
"Not before I get my answers. Follow me," Sirius insisted, taking Lily's arm and spiriting her away toward the moon-lit gardens.
10:30 p.m.
"She's identified the unknown death eater as Malfoy. She recognizes his voice and recalls his name being spoken the night he and Wilkes broke into the school," Frank murmured to Dumbledore, the two wizards conspiratorially sharing a glass of brandy before the next politician dared to approach Hogwarts' headmaster. "She's spooked, Lord Dumbledore. Perhaps I should take her back to her room for the night?"
"No, we cannot let Malfoy think he has affected her. Any trace of fear may cause him to think something is awry," Dumbledore replied imperceptibly, appearing nonplused as he smiled at guests who passed them by. "Stay calm and remain by her side for the rest of the evening. We will discuss the implications of this revelation after the Gala."
"Yes—of course. I will go and find her," Frank complied, though he disagreed with the old wizard's decision, acutely aware that Lily was suffering in the presence of Malfoy.
As Frank bowed and turned to leave, Dumbledore stopped him, his bright eyes glimmering behind his half-moon spectacles. "Lord Longbottom?"
"Yes, Lord Dumbledore?" Frank inquired, anxious to return to Lily. When he turned to look back, he could tell whatever the elderly wizard had to say was important, his wrinkled mouth poised for a secret.
"Frank…I can see how close you have become to Aurora. She is both beautiful and intelligent; however, I must ask you to remember to keep to the plan. We cannot have your feelings for Aurora endanger the task at hand," Dumbledore uttered carefully, his bushy eyebrows drawn sympathetically. "Be careful with her—she is at her most vulnerable right now."
Fuck…he saw the kiss…he thinks I'm taking advantage of her.
"Lord Dumbledore, I swear to you, she is safe with me. I would do nothing to harm her or the plan," Frank breathed zealously, his eyes shaded with intensity.
"I know you to be a good man, Frank. You've done splendidly thus far. Just tread carefully," Dumbledore replied evenly, placing a soothing hand on Frank's shoulder. "Now, go and find my dear niece. And Frank—do keep an eye out."
Left feeling unbelievably ashamed of his actions toward Lily, Frank pressed headlong into the crowd, determined to correct his blunder and explain to Lily that he had kissed her only to solidify their fabricated relationship—a thought which, in truth, had never even crossed his mind. As he pushed past guests, uncaring of whether or not he was being impolite, Frank scolded himself for letting his heart win out over his head.
Why did I kiss her? Why did I do such a stupid thing! Merlin I'm a fool…
When Frank emerged from the increasingly boisterous crowd, slipping into an empty space before the food tables, he froze, his eyes darting about for a girl that wasn't there.
"Aurora?" Frank called out stupidly, his eyebrows fixed sternly on his forehead as he looked around for the lavender-clad girl. "What the hell…?"
"Missing someone, Longbottom?" a smug voice sounded from behind Frank, causing him to turn on his heels and almost bump chests with another smartly-dressed aristocrat.
Standing nearly six foot, Lord Regulus Black was almost as good-looking as his older brother, Sirius. Having the same brown—albeit precisely combed—hair and golden eyes, the Black boys were practically twins, though Regulus appeared to lack Sirius' sturdier build and sported a much preppier appearance. A seventh year Slytherin boy that Frank had had no patience for when he had been in school, Regulus Black was no friend to him.
"Not that it's any of your business, Black, but I'm looking for Lady Rockford," Frank grit his teeth together and turned away from the irksome aristocrat, choosing to ignore his jibs and continue his search for Lily.
"You really should keep an eye on your girlfriends, Longbottom. I hear you have a history of losing your women to other, better men," Regulus taunted arrogantly, his startling eyes ablaze with inherited egotism. "It seems Lady Rockford will be the next lady snatched away from you. She was yours for what—less than a day? That must be some sort of record."
"Do you like the sound of your own voice, Black? Because in case you haven't noticed, nobody is listening to your insipid nonsense," Frank fired back in annoyance, more agitated that he couldn't find Lily than by the exasperating boy.
Regulus snickered, lightly toying with his flamboyant neck-tie—a curly bow that spilled onto his luxurious tuxedo. "I'm just trying to help you win back your lady love, Longbottom. But if you don't want to know where she's gone, I'll simply leave you to your doomed search"
Frank stopped his pacing and massaged his temple, a migraine besetting his head as he looked up at Regulus and glared. "Tell me where she is before I hang you by that ridiculous bow around your neck, Black."
"Manners, Longbottom," Regulus chided in amusement, clearly enjoying the torment he was causing his rival. "What I've been tryingto tell you is that I last saw Lady Rockford heading out to the gardens with none other than my idiot brother. They seemed very cozy, exchanging whispers with one another."
"What? I didn't even know he was here…" Frank inquired doubtfully, speaking more to himself than Regulus.
"You better hurry after them, Longbottom. It won't be long until my dear brother has Lady Rockford bent over behind a mulberry bush…"
Abandoning restraint, Frank lunged for Regulus, taking the younger man off guard. He grabbed the handsome boy by the scruff of his dress shirt and gave him a shake, startling some of the surrounding guests. "If I wasn't surrounded by a room full of nobles, your face would be black and blue, friend," Frank growled, smiling brightly as soon as he released Regulus' skirt. He patted Regulus hard on the back—making the boy cough—as he casually strolled away, beaming at nearby aristocrats. "Just having some fun, ladies and gentlemen! Regulus and I are old Hogwarts mates!"
Leaving a sore, scowling Regulus behind, as well as a collection of merry laughs and chortles—product of the nobles he had fooled into believing he had been exchanging friendly blows with the young Black—Frank advanced into the Hogwarts gardens, anxious to prove Regulus' naughty prophecy incorrect.
10:30 p.m.
The cool night air gnawed at Lily's bare arms and shoulders as she and Sirius plunged into the Hogwarts gardens bordering the Dining Hall. Despite the summer's darkness, the garden was a venerable beacon of light, paper lanterns lining every tree and coils of magical lights wrapped around the landscaped shrubs and hedges. In the air hung the smell of flora, sweet and fragrant like the raspberry Dom Perignon Lily had been sipping all night, and from the party drifted the sound of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake—a departure from the big band music that had been playing earlier in the evening.
Despite the romantic atmosphere, Lily was being roughly dragged by Sirius to the darkest depths of the garden—a place where they would not be interrupted.
"There is no need to man-handle me!" Lily insisted, wrenching her arm away from Sirius as they came under the umbrella of a willow tree. "You're tugging me around like I'm some sort of criminal!"
"If only people could be sent to Azkaban for breaking hearts," Sirius replied severely, his beautiful eyes unforgiving as they considering the girl.
"If that were the case then you'd have been locked up years ago," Lily spat back defensively, feeling emotionally scattered. "Now would you stop unnecessarily berating me so I can explain to you what's going on?"
"Where will you even begin? Perhaps you can start by telling me who you really are. Are you a poor little muggle girl who lives a miserable existence locked up in a boarding school, or a courtier who just so happens to be the niece of the most powerful wizard in Britain? Who exactly have you tricked, girl? James or Dumbledore?" Sirius snapped acrimoniously, his temper beginning to flare again.
"I haven't tricked either of them!" Lily bit back, heat rising to her face as her eyes darted about the garden for any sign of life. "For your bloody information, I didn't know who I really was until a month ago. For almost eighteen years I believed that I was a nobody—an orphan who was dropped at the stairs of a church by parents who didn't want her. Then, just four weeks ago, two death eaters showed up at my school and tried to kidnap me. Luckily for me they were unsuccessful and Dumbledore found me first."
Sirius' mouth suddenly fell open, his eyes widening in horrified surprise. "Death eaters? What do Voldemort's cronies want with a muggle like you?"
"I'm not a muggle, Sirius," Lily asserted, her temper evening out as Sirius' anger began to also gradually wane. "Years ago, when I was first born, my parents learned that Voldemort suspected that I possessed…some sort of power that he thought could vanquish him."
"What?" Sirius echoed hoarsely, his face disbelieving.
"I know—it's daft, but my parents made the decision to hide me in the muggle world, knowing that he wouldn't stop until he found me. Not soon after they hid me were they found…and killed…by Voldemort himself."
"Merlin…" Sirius whispered, his eyes swimming with appalled amazement as he sank onto a bench not far from their willow tree. "All this time…you were never told you were a witch? Nobody ever came to look for you?"
"My parents didn't tell anyone where I was hidden. They gave me a locket…a locket that disguised any untrained magic I often unknowingly demonstrated when I was angry or sad…but a month ago, I accidentally smashed the locket…and mere hours later two death eaters showed up at the school."
"Voldemort has been looking for you this entire time?" Sirius demanded hollowly, unable to wrap his head around the fantastical tale. "What magic could you possibly possess that would scare him so much?"
"I don't know, Sirius…" Lily said softly, sighing as she sank onto the bench beside him. "A day later, Frank, Moody and Kingsley showed up to evacuate me to Hogwarts. Somehow Dumbledore got wind of my whereabouts, and since then he—along with the others—have made it their mission to protect me."
Sirius ran his hands through his hair, thin stress lines forming under his eyes. Lily quietly observed him, her heart thudding against the walls of her chest as she wondered what thoughts were causing him such unease. "Sirius…are you alright?"
"It's just…what are the chances…?" Sirius mused aloud, suddenly looking at Lily as if she were a dream. "All this time, neither you nor James knew the other was a wizard…it's…it's hardly fathomable…"
"It was a lot to take in at once," Lily admitted faintly, clutching her arms as the night's chilly breath tickled them. She looked up into Sirius' unreadable face, fragile emotion behind her eyes. "All this time I've been so worried that I'd never see James again…that he would either perish in the war or live and come back to find me missing. I thought that…that even if he lived, I'd never be able to seek him out, especially once I knew I was a witch and had to convincingly play the part of Dumbledore's niece for my own safety…"
"Never dreamed you were of the same worlds…I daresay James never imagined the possibility either. But Dumbledore…the man's a genius, hiding you in plain sight like he is. Voldemort would never suspect that he would so dangerously parade you around like he is. Probably expects he's got you locked away somewhere remote—a place where you could develop your supposed power…" Sirius trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he stared into the dark garden; quite suddenly he smiled. "I suppose he doesn't know that James, Remus and I know your true identity. When he finds out he won't be pleased."
"No…I suppose he won't. I was afraid when I first saw you that you'd give me away…that perhaps you weren't in league with Dumbledore," Lily bit her lip, wondering if Sirius would take offence to her suggestion.
"Indeed…that was a dangerous chance you took, Lily," Sirius replied unsmiling, though a bewildered grin eventually cracked his face as he whispered. "But you're in luck. James, Remus and I are all in the Order of the Phoenix…I assume you know what that is?"
"Yes…the secret society Dumbledore started. You and James have been a part of the Order this entire time?" Lily inquired weakly, thoughts of James fighting against Voldemort and his death eaters making her feel apprehensive rather than comforted.
James is fighting against the very wizard who rendered me an orphan…
"Since we graduated Hog—"
Snappishly, Sirius ceased speaking and turned his head away from Lily, his ears perking up like a canine's. Lily blinked in confusion, alarmed by Sirius' strange behaviour; before she could question him, he clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her to her feet, causing the hem of her dress to tear.
"Wha…?" Lily attempted, her eyes growing wide with antagonism.
"Somebody's coming," Sirius warned, keeping a firm hand over Lily's outraged mouth as he swiftly guided her behind a thicket of rosebushes a distance away from the marble bench.
Lily grimaced when Sirius released her. Concealing her presence, she sank to the ground alongside Sirius, the back of her dress muddying as she pressed firmly against the bushes. As the distant sound of approaching footsteps reverberated nearby, Sirius squashed a cautionary finger to his mouth, indicating for Lily to remain silent. She continued to glare.
"Aurora, are you out here? Aurora?"
Lily's eyes amplified as Frank's worried voice carried across the garden. His tone clearly communicated his anxiety over her disappearance—a fact which deeply bothered her. Lily looked to Sirius, her eyes pleadingly asking for his permission to show herself; he shook his head vigorously in response, the remnants of a plan developing behind his beautiful eyes.
"Aurora? Auro—what's this? AURORA, ARE YOU OUT HERE? AURORA?"
Compunction bubbled in her abdomen as Lily guessed that Frank had found a piece of her ripped dress, his voice transitioning from worried to full-blown panicked. Knowing that Frank was likely envisioning the worst-case scenario, Lily stirred, on the verge of revealing herself out of sheer guilt.
"Don't bloody move," Sirius mouthed, intensity hardening his jaw as he steadied Lily's quivering arm. As Frank's calls for Lily began to weaken, making it clear that he was heading away from their hiding place, Sirius whispered gravely, "Listen Lily, we don't have much time. We need to get to James now. If we try to explain to Dumbledore or Frank what's going on, we'll be too late to stop James from leaving."
"Leaving? Where on earth is he going?" Lily fretted, her heart constricting unpleasantly.
"He thinks you're dead, Lily, and he hasn't been taking it well. He's heading for Australia tonight to join the war effort out there," Sirius murmured, taking a moment to peak over the rosebush for any sign of Frank. "Dammit, Longbottom is heading back over here…"
"Australia?" Lily echoed, tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she realized that James was going to be taken away from her again. "Where is he? How do we stop him?"
"Leave your questions for later! If we have any chance of catching him we need to leave now," Sirius stressed, peering over the rosebush in concern. "Bloody hell, Frank will be upon us at any moment…will you come with me? James won't believe you're alive unless he sees you for himself!"
"But…Frank…Dumbledore...they'll be furious with me," Lily whispered frantically, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as footsteps neared and logic presented no clear solution.
"You're so close, Lily! Are you really going to let James slip away again?" Sirius asked incredulously.
Sirius is right. James is alive…he came back for me just like he'd promised…
"Let's go," Lily whispered, her features slick with desperation as Sirius broke into his first true grin of the night.
"Get ready for one hell of a ride…" Sirius smiled roguishly, extracting his wand from his suit jacket and pointing it over the rosebush toward Frank. "Bombarda!"
Lily gasped in surprise as a violent crack, followed by Frank's startled shout, made the entire garden shudder. Instantly popping her head up and over the bush in alarm, she glimpsed Frank—his expensive tuxedo soaked through—battling with what could only be described as a fountain-gone-haywire; compliments of Sirius' explosive spell-work.
"He's distracted, come on!" Sirius urged Lily, pulling at her arm as she remorsefully watched Frank try to control the sadistically-sputtering garden decoration. Relenting to Sirius' impatient tugging, Lily turned from the chaotic scene and haphazardly headed toward the bottom of the sloping garden.
"Where are we going?" Lily inquired anxiously, picking up her dress as she laboured down the hill into pitch black darkness. "Sirius?"
Ignored, Lily followed behind Sirius at a fast pace, sweat collecting on her brow as she warily tried to gain her bearings. As darkness began to enfold them like a shadowed blanket, the lit garden fading into the backdrop, Lily realized she and Sirius were heading for the Forbidden Forest.
"We won't be able to apparate to London until we get into Hogsmeade," Sirius explained restlessly, heaving a frustrated sigh when he stopped to let Lily catch up to him. "We need to follow the road into Hogsmeade. We don't have much time, though, so do try and keep up."
"What's the bloody rush?" Lily demanded irritably, the bottoms of her feet aching with blisters as she continued to lug the heavy train of her dress through the dirt and mud.
"James is taking the Ministry's Floo Network at midnight. That only gives us an hour to catch him before he departs," Sirius returned tetchily, pulling off his tuxedo jacket and discarding it on the ground. "If we don't catch James before then it may take us months to track him down…that is…unless…"
Dawning spreading over his clean-shaven face, Sirius dug a hand into one of his pant pockets and extracted a small, intricately-carved hand mirror. Lily frowned as he carefully studied his image in the object.
"This is hardly the time to check your hair, Sirius!" Lily yelped in annoyance, the silence that had crept between them making her apprehensive.
"It's a communication mirror for Merlin's sake!" Sirius bit back defensively, wiping the glass with the cuff of his dress shirt before loudly pronouncing. "Potter! Oi, Potter! James, mate, are you there? If you can hear me, don't go anywhere! LILY IS ALIVE, Potter! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE! POTTER?"
Sirius cursed under his breath, irritation stamped on his face as he threw the non-responsive mirror onto the cold ground alongside his jacket and aggressively kicked it away. "Piece of rubbish…the hard way it is, then. We've only got an hour—let's get to Hogsmeade, Evans."
"That's Everard, Sirius."
"What?"
"…never mind."
As Sirius plunged back the darkness, continuing to mutter profanities under his breath, Lily paused to collect the discarded mirror, uncertainty gnawing away at her. She looked back at her reflection in the cracked glass and heaved a sigh, clutching it to her chest.
Don't leave without me, James…
Willing herself to cease trembling, Lily embarked into the unknown after Sirius, translucent fog swirling in her wake.
11:00 p.m.
James Potter sat forlornly at the foot of The Fountain of Magical Brethren, an enormous golden statue located in the atrium of the British Ministry of Magic, his body slumped against the stone-lined pool. Though the fountain was a sight to behold, splendidly depicting a witch and wizard encircled by an adoring centaur, goblin and house-elf, James paid no mind to the statue's leaky depictions, preoccupied with thoughts of Australia.
He had been to the Ministry countless times before, one of many milling about between 9:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m., but tonight was the first time James had ever been to the Ministry of Magic after hours. Usually bustling with rabid activity, the atrium was absolutely silent, the only noise stemming from the gurgling fountain systematically spewing water. Indigo-coloured torchlight subtly cast the highly-polished wood floors and black-tiled archways into relief, though it barely illuminated the continuously-moving golden symbols swimming across the peacock-blue ceiling. Eerily, the gates leading to the lifts were closed and locked—something James had never seen before—and the gilded fireplaces lining the walls remained stagnant and flameless.
James sighed, the Ministry's lifelessness only seeming to worsen the sinking feeling he had been experiencing ever since arriving in Whitehall hours earlier.
Pull yourself together. Remember why you're doing this.
"Ah, you must be Lord Potter."
Interrupting his inward attempts at self-assurance, James climbed to his feet as a stout female voice sounded from his left. Brushing dust from his faded jeans, he extended a hand toward the speaker—a reedy-framed, middle-aged woman with unmanageable curly hair. Dressed in a stern burgundy suit with one-too-many buttons, the ministry official tentatively accepted James' hand and shook it firmly.
"Lord Potter, my name is Louisa Edgecomb. I work for the Department of Magical Transportation."
"Good evening," James replied simply, in no mood to exchange niceties.
Nonplussed, Miss Edgecomb continued her professional diatribe. "I am of the understanding that you have scheduled travel to Sydney, Australia with my office—more specifically, a midnight trip via the Floo Network. Is this correct, Lord Potter?"
"That is correct," James nervously fidgeted with the handle of the green army bag he had packed and brought along.
"Excellent. You know, this is the first time we've made an exception and opened the International Floo Network after hours," Miss Edgecomb asserted, less deferential to James' title than most commoners. "We didn't even open the Floo Network for the late Minister for Magic when his prize camel fell ill while he was on holiday in Bora Bora…"
James narrowed his chestnut eyes, considering the snooty Miss Edgecomb. "Is that so? Your cooperation this evening is greatly appreciated then."
Miss Edgecomb frowned, reluctant to seem anything but inconvenienced by the casually-attired lord. "Yes…well, it's getting rather late, so I'd like to show you to your fireplace so I can be on my way home—"
Suddenly, James' jean pocket began to vibrate, causing his whole leg to unnaturally shiver. Miss Edgecomb's eyes curiously bulged as James loosed his communication mirror from his pant pocket and proceeded to press it against his leg to prevent the caller on the other side from seeing his reflection. When Sirius' clear voice finally rang out from the magical object, James cringed, his heart yearning to abandon his plans for Australia.
"Potter! Oi, Potter! James, mate, are you there? If you can hear me, don't go anywhere! LI—"
Upset, James shoved the talking mirror into his army bag before Sirius could finish, his packed clothing muffling the remainder of his best friend's message. He couldn't stand the temptation of his Sirius' voice, afraid he might actually be able to convince him to remain behind in England.
"Do you need to take that call?" Miss Edgecomb inquired incredulously, crossing her arms as she raised a suspicious brow.
"No, it's not important. Continue," James returned curtly, irritably regarding the woman.
Why do you have to make this more difficult on me, Sirius?
"I see…this way, if you please."
Slinging his bag over his shoulder, James followed Miss Edgecomb to the nearby corridor symmetrically lined with intricately-designed fireplaces. Walking three-quarters of the way down the hallway, Miss Edgecomb stopped before a seemingly random fireplace and adjusted her spectacles, peering at the number engraved on the mantle.
"Here we are…fireplace number thirty-seven," Miss Edgecomb enunciated in a business-like tone, opening her leather-bound briefcase and extracting a small velveteen bag. "This fireplace will become operational at the stroke of midnight. When the flame bursts into existence, take precisely two heaping handfuls of Floo powder and throw the substance into the flames. As you are travelling a vast distance, more powder is required than usually necessary."
"Right. Thanks," James replied shortly, taking the bag of Floo powder from the patronizing woman.
"Furthermore, wait exactly five seconds for the powder to take effect, then step into the flames and clearly speak the name of your destination. Your destination fireplace is located in a pub in Sydney called the Fortune of War. The elderly bartender there will be expecting you."
How ironic.
"Now, unless you have any questions, I will be leaving for home," Miss Edgecomb concluded, clipping together the top of her briefcase and extending a manicured hand toward James. "Happy travels, Lord Potter."
"Thank you, Miss Edgecomb. I trust your manager has stressed to you the importance of confidentiality?" James shook the woman's hand, his gaze unyielding.
"Yes, Lord Potter. Only he and I know of your travels, and—as you can see—you and I are the only people here currently. Even the Unspeakables are home by now. Additionally, no one can apparate in or out of the Ministry after hours, the Floo Network is closed until the morning, and anyone who attempts to enter via the visitors' entrance will be apprehended by the Ministry's…innovative new security system. Unless there is a security breach—which hasn't occurred in nearly twenty years, might I add—your trip should go very much undisturbed, Lord Potter."
Bloody know-it-all.
"Very good. Careful home, Miss Edgecomb," James said dismissively, dropping his bag to the ground as the stern ministry official nodded and took off toward the security desk, her spiky maroon heels clicking along the dark wooden floors.
Once he was sure Miss Edgecomb had turned out of sight, James sank onto the ground before the empty fireplace, deflated. After checking his magical wristwatch he groaned, pulling his bag toward him as he realized he still had a half hour to kill. Before lying down and maneuvering the satchel underneath his head to act as a pillow, James reluctantly pulled his communication mirror out to examine it.
Sirius' face was absent from the glass; all he could see was darkness—likely the inside of Sirius' pocket. Both disappointed and relieved not to see Sirius, James laid the mirror face-down on his chest, willing his heart to stop pounding unnaturally. A strange feeling was pulsating in his chest—a mixture of nervousness and uneasiness that didn't seem completely the product of his soon-to-be pilgrimage to Australia. His intuition—previously compelling him to take flight—was now urging him to stay put.
Perspective, James. You're doing this for her…to avenge her.
James closed his sad eyes, compelling himself to remain calm. As he gradually began to doze off, the coo of the fountain like a methodical lullaby, he could hear the faint murmurs of a man and a woman coming from the mirror nestled on his chest.
11:30 p.m.
An ear-splitting pop announced the eventual arrival of Lily and Sirius in desolate Whitehall, London.
After an agonizing hike into Hogsmeade and a dizzying apparation, Lily found herself in a bricked alley flanked with tin rubbish bins and smelling strongly of old fish. Pinching her nose to avoid the overwhelming odor, she looked to Sirius for an explanation of their surroundings.
"My, my, don't we look out of place?" Sirius smirked, absorbing their dire surroundings with a chuckle before taking Lily's hand and leading her out of the alley. He found the juxtaposition of Lily's grandiose dress with the backstreet's filth to be quite amusing.
Following Sirius out of the passageway, Lily was instantly met by the sight of a crumbling, smouldering building. She blinked skeptically as Sirius pulled her down the deserted street, noticing that most of the structures down the rue were in bad disrepair, some with their ceilings collapsed and others reduced to indistinguishable rubble—rubble which exuded thick, grey smoke. A terrified chill ran up the length of her spine as she grasped the context of the ghostly ruins.
"Sirius…please tell me this…this…isn't…?" Lily trembled, her face paling as she squeezed Sirius' hand. London was barely distinguishable.
"Afraid so, darling," Sirius breathed gravely, averting his eyes from the horrifying disorder. "If Dumbledore and the others had delayed your rescue by only a few hours, you would have been in the middle of this. Of course, James and I assumed you had been."
Lily shuddered at the thought, blinking back shocked tears. "S-St. Madeline's?"
Sirius sighed, shaking his head. "The school was decimated in the raid. A bomb landed right on its head. Most of the surrounding buildings were crushed too, from the residual blast—you can imagine the scene James encountered when he came back for you."
"My god…" Lily gasped, clutching at her heart as distress and upset transformed her delicate features. "James…h-he must have been—"
"Devastated would probably be the word for it," Sirius cut in grimly, all of his usual, characteristic happiness draining from his face. He suddenly stopped, taking a reluctant look around at his shattered surroundings, than turned to Lily, his eyes solemn. "I've never seen him like that, Lily. The thought of you dead broke him. He didn't know how to deal with your loss…how to mourn. He's been riddled with guilt, blaming himself for not protecting you…and now he's got it in his head that he must rejoin the war to avenge you. The Ministry of Magic forbade the magical community from joining the muggle war, yet James and I did anyway and got caught by Dumbledore himself. James thinks the only way to rejoin the muggle war is to do so outside of England, and therefore outside of Dumbledore's reach."
"He's doing all of this…for me?" Lily repeated weakly, her blue eyes magnified with unspilled tears.
"Yes. It's remarkable how much he cares for you," Sirius trailed off, staring hard at a particularly ravaged building.
Lily gulped, Sirius' admission suddenly filling her up with a warmth that sheltered her from the horrors that encircled her.
All this time he's never stopped caring for me…he's never forgotten me…a girl he thought had nothing to her name, nothing to offer…a girl he thought didn't belong in his world of wealth and magic…
"Sirius…we've got to stop him. We can't let this go on any longer," Lily pronounced unyieldingly, a previously extinguished fire suddenly blazing back into existence behind her disguised eyes. "We have to hurry; we don't have much time left…"
A ghost of a smile crossed Sirius' face as Lily's newfound might pulled him back to the land of the living. "It's not much further. Let's go."
You are my sweetest downfall;
I loved you first.
-Regina Spektor
Author's Notes
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