Chapter Thirteen: Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears a Crown

Crack!

The Knight Bus materialised out of nowhere. Lily glanced back, waving one last time at Marlene, who had her nose pressed against the window. Then she levitated her trunk onto the bus ahead of her.

"Where to?" the driver, Ernie Prang, asked affably.

Lily hesitated, assuring herself it was the only option, then muttered, "Grimmauld Place."

"Coming up!" he said. The bus leapt forward.

Weaving drunkenly, Lily managed to make her way over to a bed and collapse on it.

It was Christmas Eve, and she had finally had enough of the uncomfortable silence that pervaded Marlene's house. She knew her best friend's parents resented her and that hurt like hell, considering she had known them for most of her life, but she also felt guilty for obviously ruining their Christmas.

So, despite Marlene's begging, she had packed up her trunk and was making her way to one of the many Black ancestral homes: Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

Naturally, the hidden townhouse in Islington was not the original Black ancestral home. That honour belonged to a sprawling manor in Berkshire. But Grimmauld Place was the closest to Marlene's house in Barnet, so it was there that Lily would have to go.

The question of exactly which members of the family lived in which houses was a murky one. Technically, Grimmauld Place belonged to her Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion. Her own parents, Cygnus and Druella, lived in Berkshire with her grandparents Pollux and Irma – the Crabbe grandmother from whom Lily had inherited her looks. But there was a lot of intermingling. Lily was often to be found in Grimmauld Place, and Sirius was often to be found in Berkshire, creating a level of instability which irritated Lily as much as she loved it.

After all, having a multitude of houses to choose from was not exactly a bad thing.

Sirius would of course be in Grimmauld Place, as would his brother Regulus. Now that Narcissa was married she would be at Malfoy Manor, making Lily the only Black sister at the house. Probably James Potter would be there too.

Well, that certainly posed possibilities.

The expression of astonishment on Sirius's face, as he opened the door to find his cousin outside, was almost comical.

"Lily? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, that's nice," she snipped. "Have you forgotten that I happen to live here?"

"But I thought you were at that half-blood's house," he said, blocking the entranceway with his body.

She pushed past him. "Well, I'm not there anymore."

Suddenly he laughed. "Oh my God," he snorted, "they kicked you out, didn't they? For being a Black?"

She flushed. As arrogant and egotistical as he was, he could sometimes be surprisingly perceptive. "For your information, I chose to leave," she told him in arctic tones.

He waved her away, still laughing.

"Delilah?"

"Hello, Aunt Walburga," Lily said stiffly. Sirius' mother had never forgiven her for being in Gryffindor, and it showed in the curl of the older woman's lip as she looked her niece up and down.

"This is an unexpected pleasure. We had no word that you would be coming."

"I made the decision on impulse," Lily said. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

She skirted past her aunt, charming her trunk so that it floated up the stairs in front of her. She had known Potter would probably be there, but she was not expecting to meet him quite so soon: he materialised on the landing as she made her way up.

"Lily?"

He stared at her. She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"I happen to live here, Potter, you don't need to look so surprised to see me."

"Well, you aren't usually home much," he said. She smirked inwardly. His voice was actually just the slightest bit wary – of her.

"You're one to talk. It's like you've become a permanent fixture in my house," she sneered. "Do your parents not realise that their only son spends more time at his friend's house than his own?"

He shrugged. "No, not particularly," he said.

She blinked, his easy rebuttal taking her off guard. "Oh," she said lamely. Her snide response dissipated. "Well, I can't blame them," she said, trying to regroup, but he grinned knowingly at her.

She slammed inside her room. Just when she started thinking that she'd finally gotten the upper hand, Potter always seemed somehow to ruin it.

Dinner in Grimmauld Place was only marginally less awkward than it had been at the McKinnons' house.

Lily stabbed at a piece of salmon Kreacher had placed in front of her, resigning herself to another week of this before she could return to Hogwarts. The house's sole inhabitants were Aunt Walburga, Uncle Orion (who was usually drunk out of his mind), Regulus, Sirius, and of course Potter.

At least Regulus was there, or she might have gone mad. Lily grinned at her younger cousin. He grinned back. Somehow, although Black cheeks were meant to be too hollow, he had managed to acquire dimples. He was a slender, good-looking boy of sixteen who heavily resembled Sirius, with a neck-length fall of inky hair and heavily-lashed grey eyes. His features were sharp and angular; when he moved too quickly, he looked more like some great hunting cat than a boy.

Had he been an only child, he could probably have won the hearts of thousands. As it was, he faded into Sirius's shadow, the other Black brother, quiet and far removed from the Marauders' reigns of terror.

"You know, Mother," Sirius said suddenly, breaking the thin silence, "It turns out that James here is very well liked by Dumbledore."

Walburga raised a dark, curving brow. "What makes you say that?"

"Well," Sirius said. For some reason, he glanced sidelong at Lily, his gunmetal eyes gleaming with mischievousness. "Because he's going to be the first person in the history of Hogwarts to be both Quidditch Captain... and Head Boy."

Lily choked on her salmon.

Swallowing it painfully, she threw herself out of her chair and lunged at Sirius across the table. "What are you talking about?" she hissed. "That's impossible!"

"Oh, no," Sirius said, looking unfazed. "It's perfectly possible. Do you mind letting go of my collar?"

Lily released him and sank back in her chair. "But Remus Lupin is Head Boy," she said. "You can't switch in the middle of the year!"

"He told Dumbledore that he couldn't do it anymore because it was too much pressure, what with his furry little problem and all," Sirius said. His eyes flicked to Potter's for a split-second. "And, well, it seems that our boy James here is the second option."

"Excuse me for a second," Lily said. Her voice betrayed nothing of her inner turmoil. Calmly, she stood up and strode from the room, ascending the stairs and throwing herself onto her bed. She stared at the ceiling.

It couldn't be possible. Dumbledore would never do such a thing. Yet... didn't Lupin spend most of his time looking like death warmed over? In three months, he had had to take a break in the Hospital Wing three separate times. Was that down to the 'furry little problem' Sirius had referred to?

She could feel an answer dangling tantalisingly, just out of her grasp. Her brain puzzled over all the pieces she had been given, turning them over in her mind. She knew what was wrong with him. She just had to think. If only she could get her brain to work properly for one solitary second...

There was a knock at the door. If anybody in this house would be coming after her, it was Regulus. "Come in," she called.

The creak of hinges preceded the sight of Potter's messy black head poking around the doorway.

"Hello," he said carefully.

Open-mouthed, Lily stared at him, unable to believe his temerity.

"Cut the bullshit, Potter," she said sharply. "What do you want?"

He hesitated, his eyes flicking over her, as though scanning for signs of damage. "I just wanted to say that I... well, I didn't ask to be Head Boy. Truly."

She frowned, irritated with the part of her that was inexplicably annoyed by what he had said. It sounded more like an insult than anything. He didn't want to work with her? How was that possible? Two years ago, he hadn't been able to get enough of her.

"It's not because of you," he hastened to assure her, perhaps seeing the frown.

Lily sighed. Suddenly she was tired of dealing with him and all the drama associated with him.

"Just get out of my room, Potter. I honestly don't care about you enough to be listening to your excuses."

He still stood there. "Don't you want to discuss our joint Head duties –"

"I said, get out of my room!" Lily snarled, raising herself off the bed on her elbows. At that, he cast her one last assessing look and finally slid out.

Her breath whooshed out of her body in one long exhale. Working with James Potter, of all people. What had she done to deserve this?

AN: I know these chapters are pretty short, but they're some of my favourites! I love writing Lily with all the other Blacks. R&R, peoples!

Shruthi, wow have fun stitching! One of my friends has started embroidery as a hobby haha, she jokes that it's made her so much more marriageable on the Jane Austen front. As for what inspires me to write... well, I have to admit that rereading my own stories are always great inspiration. It helps me rediscover what I loved about the story in the first place, plus it reminds me of all the things I want to include in the next few chapters. I know it can be really hard to just sit and write - maybe set yourself a daily word goal to help you?