James couldn't sleep. No matter how hard he tried, it just wasn't
happening. He'd had a terrifying dream a couple of hours before, one that
had catapulted him out of sleep into fearful waking.
He'd been married to Lily, and they had a baby. If it had stopped there, he could've dismissed it as his over-active imagination working on his growing feelings for his friend, but it didn't. While they were putting the baby to bed, Voldemort had burst into the house. He'd killed James, the satisfaction on his face a sickening reminder of all the deaths he'd caused in his lifetime. Despite having died, James had heard Lily pleading for the baby, placing herself in the path of Voldemort's wand. Then it had gone black, and all James could hear was Voldemort's evil laughter.
He slipped out of bed, shivering in the cold. Pulling on his night-coat, he wandered downstairs to the common room, intending to sit by the fire for a while. As he rounded the corner, he stopped short. Lily was sitting on the floor, gazing into the flames. Tears streaked her face. The red glow from the fire illuminated her red hair, making it seem even wilder. He walked over, sitting beside her. She jumped.
'Sorry,' he said softly. 'I didn't mean to scare you.'
She gave him a weak smile.
'You didn't. I got frightened all alone in the dorm, so I came down here.'
'What's wrong?' James asked, seeing another tear slip down her cheek.
Lily swallowed, looking a little embarrassed.
'You'll think I'm silly,' she said.
'No, I won't,' he assured her. 'If it's enough to upset you this much, it's certainly not silly.'
She bit her lip.
'I had a dream. At least, I think it was a dream. It was so real -'
James felt a cold blanket settle on his heart.
'Tell me,' he said gently, holding her hands in his own.
'We . . . were married, and we had a baby boy,' she said, looking as if she really wished she wasn't there. James was gazing deep into her green eyes. 'Anyway, we were putting him to bed, when You-Know-Who came in. He . . . killed you, and he would've have killed the baby, but I stood in front of the curse. Then it all sort of went dark, and all I could hear was him, laughing.'
Her voice trailed off and another flood of tears rolled down her cheeks. James pulled her into his arms, trying to calm his fears. They'd both had the same dream, in the same night. The chances of that were small enough, but the fact that neither of them had dismissed it as just a dream narrowed the score even more. He rested his chin on her head.
'I had the same dream, Lily,' he told her, smiling at her shocked expression as she drew back. 'That's why I can't sleep.'
'Are you sure?' she asked, her eyes wide with fear.
He nodded.
'Positive.'
'Then what should we do?'
He thought for a moment.
'We'll talk to Dumbledore tomorrow. He'll have an explanation, at least.'
She looked trustingly into his eyes, and nodded.
'Thanks, James.'
'No problem.'
Lily leant on him, gazing into the flames, unresisting as he wrapped an arm about her shoulders. They sat together for hours, until a light noise made James look up. He laughed suddenly, shaking Lily's shoulder.
'Look, Lily!'
He pointed to the window, where, clearly discernible from the dusky hue of the sky, white flakes were dancing in the darkness. They ran to the window, looking out at the snow with huge smiles. The nightmare had passed.
*
They found Dumbledore in Hagrid's hut the next morning, speaking animatedly to the enormous groundskeeper. Hagrid was overjoyed to see them, having made special friends with them in their earlier years. He ushered them inside, pouring steaming mugs of tea.
Dumbledore stood up, obviously intending to leave.
'Thank you for the tea, Hagrid,' he said. 'I'll leave you to catching up.'
Lily stood up as well.
'Actually, Headmaster,' she said. 'We've been looking for you all morning.'
Dumbledore looked from her to James, noting the weariness that seemed to permeate them. He sat down again.
'What's up?'
James pulled Lily back down beside him, and smiled at Dumbledore.
'We don't know if this is important or not, sir, but we thought we should run it by you all the same. We both had the exact same dream last night.'
The professor frowned, tucking his greying beard into his belt.
'What was it about?'
They told him, in detail. Hagrid chuckled.
'Married, eh? Well -'
He saw their faces.
'I'll just . . . feed the owls, shall I?'
He stomped out, red as a beetroot. Dumbledore smiled fondly after him, and turned back to the worried teenagers.
'Well, it would seem that you have had a premonition, James, Lily.'
Lily gasped.
'You mean that's actually going to happen?'
Dumbledore nodded.
'It could, Lily, it could. But a premonition is by no means the be all and end all. You could just have been on the receiving end of an intense emotion. That could've shaped your dreams last night.'
'But where would the emotion have come from, Headmaster?' James asked, leaning forward.
Dumbledore looked serious, and sad.
'Voldemort attacked a village on the borders last night. Seventy-four innocent people murdered in their beds. That is where part of it could have come from.'
James and Lily felt the gloom settle on the hut. Seventy-four people killed, just for being born Muggles. It was terrible.
'Oh, no,' Lily murmured, her face horrified. Unconsciously, James wrapped an arm about her shoulders.
'Of course,' Dumbledore was saying, 'the marriage part probably came from you two.'
He grinned at them. They blushed, avoiding each other's eyes. James' arm slid hurriedly from Lily's shoulders.
'Don't worry about it,' he told them. 'You're quite safe here.'
He nodded to them and shuffled out. They followed slower, scuffing through the snow. It was still falling, already several feet deep in places. James strode on ahead to the Quidditch ground, trying to put his worries from his mind. Lily wandered up to the Gryffindor Tower, vaguely answering Severus when he asked her how she was.
As she passed through the common room, where several students were engaged in various past-times, a quiet sobbing drew her attention to a small red- haired boy, curled up in an armchair by the fire. Bill Weasley was the only first-year who'd stayed this Christmas. He was crying into his jumper. It had a huge 'B' knitted into it, probably made by his mum. Lily knelt beside him.
'What's wrong, Bill?' she asked, stroking his hair from his face.
He sniffed, and looked down at her.
'I miss my family,' he said, his voice wobbling. 'I've never been away at Christmas before.'
Lily smiled sadly.
'I know how you feel,' she told him. 'This is my first Christmas away, too.'
'Really?'
'Really.'
'But you've got friends who stayed,' he protested.
'So do you.'
He gave her a skeptical look.
'Well, what am I?' she asked, grinning at his confused expression.
Bill sighed.
'You're Head Girl, and a seventh-year,' he said, threatening to break into tears again.
Lily laughed, and pulled him into a hug.
'I'm a Gryffindor, and we stick together,' she told him. 'Fancy a snowball fight?'
His face brightened, and he wiped his face dry, his expression hopeful. Lily looked around at the others.
'Same goes for you lot, too.'
With an enormous amount of noise, the common room emptied within minutes, meeting up on the games field. Snow flew in all directions. After a while, the other houses, all feuds forgotten in the enjoyment of the game, joined them. Even the professors joined in, though from a discreet distance, with the use of wands.
Lily found herself tackled by Severus, who gazed down at her with eyes so dark as to be almost black before rolling away. Jumping up, he grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it down her back, a huge grin on his face. Lily squealed and jumped away, grabbing another handful and smashing it on his head, rubbing her hand over his hair until he was well and truly covered in snow. He skittered away, obviously enjoying being able to play without the house animosity getting in the way.
Suddenly a wall of snow rose up and surrounded the struggling, laughing students. Then, just as suddenly, it descended on them, showering them in snow. As they struggled out, they were greeted with the sight of the professors laughing hysterically at them. The students looked at one another, and, as one, grabbed handfuls of snow and began to hurl it at their defenceless teachers. The game continued for some time, helping them forget, for a while, the danger that surrounded them.
He'd been married to Lily, and they had a baby. If it had stopped there, he could've dismissed it as his over-active imagination working on his growing feelings for his friend, but it didn't. While they were putting the baby to bed, Voldemort had burst into the house. He'd killed James, the satisfaction on his face a sickening reminder of all the deaths he'd caused in his lifetime. Despite having died, James had heard Lily pleading for the baby, placing herself in the path of Voldemort's wand. Then it had gone black, and all James could hear was Voldemort's evil laughter.
He slipped out of bed, shivering in the cold. Pulling on his night-coat, he wandered downstairs to the common room, intending to sit by the fire for a while. As he rounded the corner, he stopped short. Lily was sitting on the floor, gazing into the flames. Tears streaked her face. The red glow from the fire illuminated her red hair, making it seem even wilder. He walked over, sitting beside her. She jumped.
'Sorry,' he said softly. 'I didn't mean to scare you.'
She gave him a weak smile.
'You didn't. I got frightened all alone in the dorm, so I came down here.'
'What's wrong?' James asked, seeing another tear slip down her cheek.
Lily swallowed, looking a little embarrassed.
'You'll think I'm silly,' she said.
'No, I won't,' he assured her. 'If it's enough to upset you this much, it's certainly not silly.'
She bit her lip.
'I had a dream. At least, I think it was a dream. It was so real -'
James felt a cold blanket settle on his heart.
'Tell me,' he said gently, holding her hands in his own.
'We . . . were married, and we had a baby boy,' she said, looking as if she really wished she wasn't there. James was gazing deep into her green eyes. 'Anyway, we were putting him to bed, when You-Know-Who came in. He . . . killed you, and he would've have killed the baby, but I stood in front of the curse. Then it all sort of went dark, and all I could hear was him, laughing.'
Her voice trailed off and another flood of tears rolled down her cheeks. James pulled her into his arms, trying to calm his fears. They'd both had the same dream, in the same night. The chances of that were small enough, but the fact that neither of them had dismissed it as just a dream narrowed the score even more. He rested his chin on her head.
'I had the same dream, Lily,' he told her, smiling at her shocked expression as she drew back. 'That's why I can't sleep.'
'Are you sure?' she asked, her eyes wide with fear.
He nodded.
'Positive.'
'Then what should we do?'
He thought for a moment.
'We'll talk to Dumbledore tomorrow. He'll have an explanation, at least.'
She looked trustingly into his eyes, and nodded.
'Thanks, James.'
'No problem.'
Lily leant on him, gazing into the flames, unresisting as he wrapped an arm about her shoulders. They sat together for hours, until a light noise made James look up. He laughed suddenly, shaking Lily's shoulder.
'Look, Lily!'
He pointed to the window, where, clearly discernible from the dusky hue of the sky, white flakes were dancing in the darkness. They ran to the window, looking out at the snow with huge smiles. The nightmare had passed.
*
They found Dumbledore in Hagrid's hut the next morning, speaking animatedly to the enormous groundskeeper. Hagrid was overjoyed to see them, having made special friends with them in their earlier years. He ushered them inside, pouring steaming mugs of tea.
Dumbledore stood up, obviously intending to leave.
'Thank you for the tea, Hagrid,' he said. 'I'll leave you to catching up.'
Lily stood up as well.
'Actually, Headmaster,' she said. 'We've been looking for you all morning.'
Dumbledore looked from her to James, noting the weariness that seemed to permeate them. He sat down again.
'What's up?'
James pulled Lily back down beside him, and smiled at Dumbledore.
'We don't know if this is important or not, sir, but we thought we should run it by you all the same. We both had the exact same dream last night.'
The professor frowned, tucking his greying beard into his belt.
'What was it about?'
They told him, in detail. Hagrid chuckled.
'Married, eh? Well -'
He saw their faces.
'I'll just . . . feed the owls, shall I?'
He stomped out, red as a beetroot. Dumbledore smiled fondly after him, and turned back to the worried teenagers.
'Well, it would seem that you have had a premonition, James, Lily.'
Lily gasped.
'You mean that's actually going to happen?'
Dumbledore nodded.
'It could, Lily, it could. But a premonition is by no means the be all and end all. You could just have been on the receiving end of an intense emotion. That could've shaped your dreams last night.'
'But where would the emotion have come from, Headmaster?' James asked, leaning forward.
Dumbledore looked serious, and sad.
'Voldemort attacked a village on the borders last night. Seventy-four innocent people murdered in their beds. That is where part of it could have come from.'
James and Lily felt the gloom settle on the hut. Seventy-four people killed, just for being born Muggles. It was terrible.
'Oh, no,' Lily murmured, her face horrified. Unconsciously, James wrapped an arm about her shoulders.
'Of course,' Dumbledore was saying, 'the marriage part probably came from you two.'
He grinned at them. They blushed, avoiding each other's eyes. James' arm slid hurriedly from Lily's shoulders.
'Don't worry about it,' he told them. 'You're quite safe here.'
He nodded to them and shuffled out. They followed slower, scuffing through the snow. It was still falling, already several feet deep in places. James strode on ahead to the Quidditch ground, trying to put his worries from his mind. Lily wandered up to the Gryffindor Tower, vaguely answering Severus when he asked her how she was.
As she passed through the common room, where several students were engaged in various past-times, a quiet sobbing drew her attention to a small red- haired boy, curled up in an armchair by the fire. Bill Weasley was the only first-year who'd stayed this Christmas. He was crying into his jumper. It had a huge 'B' knitted into it, probably made by his mum. Lily knelt beside him.
'What's wrong, Bill?' she asked, stroking his hair from his face.
He sniffed, and looked down at her.
'I miss my family,' he said, his voice wobbling. 'I've never been away at Christmas before.'
Lily smiled sadly.
'I know how you feel,' she told him. 'This is my first Christmas away, too.'
'Really?'
'Really.'
'But you've got friends who stayed,' he protested.
'So do you.'
He gave her a skeptical look.
'Well, what am I?' she asked, grinning at his confused expression.
Bill sighed.
'You're Head Girl, and a seventh-year,' he said, threatening to break into tears again.
Lily laughed, and pulled him into a hug.
'I'm a Gryffindor, and we stick together,' she told him. 'Fancy a snowball fight?'
His face brightened, and he wiped his face dry, his expression hopeful. Lily looked around at the others.
'Same goes for you lot, too.'
With an enormous amount of noise, the common room emptied within minutes, meeting up on the games field. Snow flew in all directions. After a while, the other houses, all feuds forgotten in the enjoyment of the game, joined them. Even the professors joined in, though from a discreet distance, with the use of wands.
Lily found herself tackled by Severus, who gazed down at her with eyes so dark as to be almost black before rolling away. Jumping up, he grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it down her back, a huge grin on his face. Lily squealed and jumped away, grabbing another handful and smashing it on his head, rubbing her hand over his hair until he was well and truly covered in snow. He skittered away, obviously enjoying being able to play without the house animosity getting in the way.
Suddenly a wall of snow rose up and surrounded the struggling, laughing students. Then, just as suddenly, it descended on them, showering them in snow. As they struggled out, they were greeted with the sight of the professors laughing hysterically at them. The students looked at one another, and, as one, grabbed handfuls of snow and began to hurl it at their defenceless teachers. The game continued for some time, helping them forget, for a while, the danger that surrounded them.