Lily Evans and the Elf-nymph Necklace

by Sohara von Salienta

Lily finds out she's a witch, goes to Hogwarts, the usual--but in her first year, she also finds something dear to Tom Riddle. They quickly become friends, but when war breaks out in the Alendoren Cove and Lily could be a useful ally...

58. The last Sorting and Tom's moving plans

She returned home that day with the white silk dress robes and the corset packaged in pale blue tissue paper.  James had insisted on it, and finally she had given in.  Lily was happier that afternoon than she had been in days; she was humming snatches of an old Civil War song as she stood at the stove, and the whole month before September first, though she hardly heard from anyone and she didn't speak much to Petunia and her father, she was brimming with exhilaration.

She boarded the train with a smile in her eyes, and when she pushed her trunk into Eva's compartment, her friend gaped at her, eyes out of the sockets, jaw unhinged, and everything.

"[i]Lily![/i]  What happened to you—you look—bloody octopus, you actually look truly happy!"

"Is there a law against that?" Lily asked as she sat down on her trunk, pushing the black Hogwarts robes off of her legs.  "I just had a good time over the holidays; that's all."

Amanda grinned.  "Well, at least you're more normal again.  We were starting to worry!"

"What's [i]that[/i]," Lora asked, who had just entered the compartment and was eyeing the silver badge on Lily's robes.

"Oh—this?"  Lily flushed with pleasure.  "I was named Head Girl this year."
"[i]Lily![/i]  That's wonderful; that's absolutely marvelous, that's simply superb—that's amazing!" Eva shrieked, wringing her hands and hugging her friend madly.  "I knew you would get it, I knew you would!"

Lily grinned.  "Thanks, Eva…"

"I [i]knew[/i] it!"

Lora groaned as she flopped down on the seats, taking up three of them.  "Eva, we know, you're psychic, now [i]shut up![/i] I'm trying to sleep!"

By the time the witch with the cart rolled by, Eva and Lily had set up a chess game, and, as usual, Lily was winning hands down, though Eva was getting much better; at least she didn't keep getting caught by the four-move win anymore.

Around the time that the girls were finishing off a pile of Chocolate Frogs, the Marauders entered, with their own arms full of candy.

"Hello, there!" Sirius greeted them, dumping his pile of Fizzing Whizbees and Every Flavor Beans into Peter's arms, who grunted a bit.  "Having fun?"

Lily laughed.  "Set the candy down somewhere.  I haven't seen you for some time!"

"I know!" Sirius grinned, catching her in a loose hug and ruffling her hair.  "I expect you had fun, though?"

"I did," she beamed.  James caught her eye, and she smiled at him.  Remus didn't miss that look.

"Ah[i]hah![/i]"

"Aha what?" Lily asked."

"Someone saw someone else over the summer, didn't they?"

James rolled his eyes, though his cheeks were burning.  "Yes, idiot, at Madam Malkin's.  That's it."

"Ah-[i]hah![/i]"

"Remus!"  Lily and James exclaimed.

Just before the train stopped, the boys dashed into an empty compartment to change into their robes; when they came back, Lily's eyes were almost magnetically and irresistibly drawn to a badge just like hers on James' chest.

"You're the Head Boy?"

"Yeah," he grinned, trying to suppress his pride and not succeeding well, "I got my letter."

Lily smiled.  "That's wonderful!"

"Oh, knock it off, you two!" Lora grumbled, leaning back against the window and interesting herself in a buzzing fly that was either trying to give itself a concussion by knocking its head against the window or trying to get outside, obviously not realizing that there was a pane of glass between it and the Great Outdoors.

They stepped off the train in high spirits, and, excited and ready for their last year, the group of seventh and sixth years took the carriage near the front of the line of horseless contraptions; all except Lily and James.  Eva and Amanda were comforting a wailing second year that was terrified of either Lily or James; or just the Head Boy and Girl badges.  Raising her eyebrows slightly, Lily stepped into an empty carriage behind the one filled with her friends, and she was rather surprised when James followed her.

He shrugged.  "I don't like wailing children much, either."

"So we do have something in common," she grinned.  "That's nice to know."

James smiled at her.  "I hope you wear the dress robes…you really did look nice in them."

"James Potter, is it your mission in life to make me start bawling in public?  I've done it once; don't make me do it again!"

"Sure, I'll stop," he mischievously smirked.  "Until we get into the Great Hall, that is."

Lily handed him a look so like that of an executioner that he desisted.

They filed into the Great Hall; the seventh years were quieter than usual, including the Marauders; it would be their last year at Hogwarts.  Solemnly, they took their seats, and, as the first years trooped in and huddled together in front of the Sorting Hat, which was placed on the familiar three-legged stool, they watched them, oddly quiet.  When a tear near the hat's brim opened and began to sing, several of the first years jumped in surprise; the older students simply watched nostalgically.

[i] Just one thousand years ago

Were my seams sewn and pressed,

And then my job was set to me—

"Choose from the very best."

The Honoured Founders chose me for

The job of picking you

And placing you in different Houses

Whom you shall honor, too.

Gryffindor's honor streaks crimson red

And values bravery the most

While Hufflepuff earns loyalty

And faith of which one boasts.

Ravenclaw loved the clever men

The smartest she could find

While Slytherin's honor is given by

Shrewd guile of heart and mind.

So, as the thousandth first years here

I greet you, one and all,

For you have marked a milestone

On history's bouncing ball.[/i]

The students applauded madly for the hat, and James leaned across the table to Lily.

"I didn't know this was exactly one thousand years after this school was founded!"

Lily nodded.  "It was.  Ssh—the Sorting!"

Professor McGonagall unfurled a large scroll of parchment she held in her hand.  Clearing her throat, she read out,

"Abner, Elizabeth!"

A blonde girl with her hair in two plaits slipped the hat on over her ears.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table with the Hufflepuff banners above it applauded loudly; some cheers were echoing around the Great Hall.

"Chasten, Phyllis!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Lily looked down at her hands that were knotting in her lap; trying to hold the tears in, she was almost breaking her fingers.

"Edwards, Morag!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

It was stupid to cry; she realized that, but needles were shooting through her throat as she tried not to.  She sank her head into her hands and shut out the clatter of interested first years, bored older students, shouting hats and an announcing Deputy Headmistress, and smiling teachers.

"Furlough, Agnes!"

A tall black girl sat down on the stool; the hat slipped down over her ears.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted, and the Gryffindor table started clapping frantically and madly as Agnes Furlough took her seat.

Finally, the Sorting Hat finished Sorting "Yamens, Paula" (Ravenclaw!), and Professor Dumbledore stood up, raising his hand for silence.  Immediately, though he had not said a word, the Great Hall fell under a hush, and Lily was impressed with his magnetic force of personality.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and ghosts—I have several important announcements to make.  First of all—Mr. Filch has added Dungbombs and Exploding Billywigs to the list of magical items not to be used in the corridors; the full list comprises sixty-eight items, and may be viewed in Mr. Filch's office. 

"Secondly—this school has been in existence for exactly one thousand years.   In celebration of that event, we are, against the better judgment of several of those of us who are sane,"—here his eyes twinkled across to the disapproving face of Professor McGonagall, who had the expression pasted on her countenance as if she knew exactly what would happen when Peeves found out about the announcement that Professor Dumbledore was about to make—"we are hosting a ball on June twenty-fourth, as both a farewell to our seventh years and a celebration of our long existence.  Dress robes are mandatory for the occasion, and every student in this school is allowed to attend.

"That being said, let the feast be spread!"

The feast, as usual, was magnificent, and Lily was thankful to return to a land of good food and plenty of it after her own home.  She wasn't sad at all when she thought about her father and sister; she had loved them when she was a child, but now she didn't care about them at all.  The word 'home' meant nothing to her, and it certainly didn't include the house her father owned.  She didn't intend to return to the house to even pack her things; she had taken everything valuable to her and crammed it into her trunk; everything else they could throw into the ocean for all she bothered or cared.

She felt rather shyer of people than she had in the last few years; it might simply have been that more eyes were fastened on her than usual, or, rather, on her Head Girl badge.  It struck a chord of self-consciousness inside her, and she wished she could Disapparate. 

After dinner, she led a nervous first year with a scrape on his knee to the hospital wing; Peeves had tripped him on a loosened carpet, and his knee was turning nastily red.  He wasn't shy at all; on the contrary, he started asking her question after question on the subject of Quidditch.  His new friends had introduced him to the sport on the train and during dinner (he was Muggle-born), and he was almost in rapture when she described to him the positions of the seven players and the history of the Golden Snitch, which had once been a Snidget.  He'd make a good friend for James, Lily thought dryly.

When they entered the common room (Codswalloping Columns), it was filled with chattering students.  Lily threaded her way through a crowd of gibbering third years, who were gesturing excitedly about the prospect of Hogsmeade, and knelt down on the floor in front of the Marauders.

"Have you thought about this being our last year here?"

Sirius laughed.  "It doesn't have to be.  We can all fail, can't we?"
Peter frowned.  "That would be bad."

"Not necessarily," James put in.  "We wouldn't have to bother about living quarters or food.  And we already have our books."

Lily rolled her eyes.  "I'd like that, but after Hogwarts, we'd be scraping floors at the Magical Menagerie for two Sickles a month."

"Not if you married someone rich," Sirius grinned.  "Marry a millionaire, and live the rest of your life in comfort.  That's my plan, at least.  And, see, if I were a millionaire, I could buy—"

Remus groaned.  "[i]Sirius![/i]"  He turned to Lily.  "He found a motorcycle magazine that a group of Muggle kids had left in a park, and he's been raving about them ever since."

"What?" Sirius shrugged.  "I like them!  And imagine, if I could enchant the thing, it could fly, besides going at a rate of seventy miles per hour, and—"

"SIRIUS!"  Remus, James, and Peter had all clapped their hands over their ears.  "STOP!"

"Er," Lily interrupted, glancing around at the astonished faces of the rest of the common room.  "Voice down, I should think…"

The next morning, Lily awoke early.  She was the first in her dormitory to reach for her robes, pull her hair into a plait, and slip her school bag over her shoulder; she was one of the first to reach the Great Hall.  James was already there, as were Sirius and Peter; Remus was sleeping late.

In spite of the amount of steak and potatoes and sherbet he had eaten last night, James was ravenous, and only moments after he had slid into a chair, his plate was piled high with bacon, toast, eggs, sausages, muffins, and scones.  When Lily joined him, he was already about half finished.

"How much did you eat last night?"

"Simply lots.  But I'm hungry now.  Scones?  They've got a lot of butter in them," he informed his friend, holding the basket out to her.

"Thanks."  Lily took one, broke it apart, and started buttering it. 

James was still holding the basket of scones, and she finally set her knife down with a clatter.  "[i]What?[/i]"

"Only one?" he asked.  "They're very good."

"I will desist," she stated, looking pointedly at the bit of bacon he had spit into the basket while he was talking.

Professor McGonagall was handing out schedules, and when she came around to the Gryffindor table, Lily had to do a neat amount of hand-twisting to make sure hers didn't fall into the syrup pitcher.

"Butv be got fst?" James asked with his mouth full.  Lily gave him a look, and he swallowed his food, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robes.  "What've we got first?"

"Potions, with the Slytherins.  After that I've got Study of Ancient Runes, so I expect you've got Care of Magical Creatures.  We have Transfiguration after lunch."

"And then," he questioned, though obviously it wasn't really a question of which the answer was life or death.

"Bewitching large objects to start stomping on small mice."

James understood, though Peter was sitting across from her with his jaw hanging into his oatmeal.

"Charms, you nut!"

"Oh."

They made their way to the Potions dungeon after breakfast; Professor Cauldwell, sleepy and lethargic as ever, was sitting at his desk.  It might have been Lily's imagination, but he gave the impression of looking more like a cauldron every year. 

Stifling a giggle, she sat down at an empty desk and opened her book; their assignment, as usual, was written on the blackboard.  Also as usual, it was something in the area of reading one thousand and four pages, summarizing the pictures, and making a table of the fourteen thousand herbs described in those pages, their effects, their uses, and their antidotes. 

Severus had taken a seat next to Lily, and she pulled his sleeve a bit.

"You know, you'd make a much better Potions teacher.  Why don't you?"

"I can't go up in front of the class and start teaching, Lily, for Heaven's sake!"

"I don't mean now, I mean later.  After Hogwarts.  Become a teacher here…the students would kiss your feet for depriving Cauldwell of a job."

"I don't want to teach Potions; I want to do Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Well, we'll see each other here, then," she smiled, flicking the page in search of the color of monkshood's almost nonexistent thorns. 

"Why so?" 

"Well, McGonagall wants me to teach here…just as a substitute, at first, but afterwards as a real teacher."

He grinned at her.  "You know, I just might seriously consider teaching here!"

Even tiny Professor Flitwick was giving the seventh years more work than ever before; they were taking their final graduation exam in March, which, the teachers seemed to believe, was merely two hours away, judging by their homework.  Professor McGonagall, the first time they entered her classroom that year, told them that she was expecting them to be able to transform their respective chairs into two cats; one a Siamese and one a tabby.  At the end of the lesson, only Lily was sitting lazily on her desk, flicking absent-mindedly at her chair, which was amusing her by separating into two cats that were growling at each other, and just as they were about to attack, she changed them back into the chair they formerly had been.  Some of the students were glaring at her; their chairs had additions like whiskers, two tails; one black and one a beige colour, pig snouts, and drawers.  How pig snouts had been added no one really wanted to know, but it certainly provided an entertaining spectacle.

James was now the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, as he informed her one night at dinner.  Nigel was gone; Miranda, Jacqueline, Anya, and Joseph had all graduated, and only James, Rebecca, and John were still on the team.  Still, to make up for that, most of the other teams had lost a few of their elements, and the captains were rushing their new team members through tactics and defenses and attacks three nights per week. 

This wasn't just any Quidditch Cup they were seeking to win; this was the thousandth anniversary of their school, and this was a greater honor than it usually was.  The Cup was to be larger than usual, with the names and positions of the different students engraved on the base of it.  Needless to say, James had fixed almost every fibre of his body on winning the Cup, even if it meant breaking someone's leg so that that person would stop jumping off of his broom when a Bludger hurtled towards him.  Well, almost.  Not even James would go quite that far.

One evening, Lily was sitting in the common room with a book, as usual, when the muddy Quidditch team trooped in.  It had been raining more than was usual lately, which meant that Filch was starting to give detentions to students for having smudges on their shoes. 

They had been running through the corridors, dodging Peeves and slipping noisily behind suits of armour to avoid the bad-tempered caretaker, and they all were breathless and panting by the time they fell inside the portrait hole (Codswalloping Columns).  Amused, Lily looked up; their scarlet Quidditch robes were splattered with dirt, twigs, and mud from falling off of their brooms and landing, hard, in puddles.

They left for the showers quickly, and soon only James remained in the common room; he was cleaner than the rest of his team, and the four boys had already locked the bathroom door.

"So," he sighed, letting himself fall onto the sofa next to Lily, "having fun?"

She smiled.  "You expect me to say no, don't you?"

"Well, not really," he shrugged.  "You're one of those strange people that enjoys studying until you have to glue their hair back on."

"Hum?"

"Well, when you get old, your hair falls out, doesn't it?"

"I'm dying laughing," Lily said flatly.

"Oh, never mind.  I guess I'm not that funny."

"You guessed right."

He smiled and stretched, accidentally poking her in the chest with his fist.  She winced, spinning around towards him quickly.

"That hurt!"

He half-cringed, half-smiled.  "Oh—oops, sorry, Lil."

Suddenly, his eyes were fixed on the necklace that had become dislodged from underneath her robes.  He didn't stop staring until she placed a firm hand in front of his eyes.

"What are you staring at?"

"You—you're still wearing that necklace…"

"Brilliant, he is.  What about it?"

"Lily…"  He licked his lips, which had cracked a bit.  "That thing is…it's…"

"Dangerous.  I know.  You know me; do I care whether it is or not?"

"Lily—have you been there lately?"

"No," she answered curtly.  "Why?"

James shrugged.  "I think you ought to."

This caught her completely off her guard.  "[i]What[/i]?"

"If he's planning to move to England soon—you can try to stop him, can't you?"

In spite of herself, admiration filled her smile.  He didn't try anymore to keep her from doing anything; he recognized what she could and would do, and he encouraged her to do it…

"You really want me to try?"

He clapped her on the shoulder.  "If I didn't, would I have brought it up?"  Suddenly, he dropped his careless manner.  "It's not for me, Lil.  It's for England.  You told me that he wants to move here soon, and if he is all that you say and I know he is—we're in for it."

Lily stared into his eyes, but he was completely serious, and no jeering ray of laughter was twinkling in them.  She took a deep breath.

"James, I doubt that I can.  If not even Litharelen can change his mind…"

"You [i]can,[/i]" James stated firmly, so sure of himself that she didn't dare to tell him that she wouldn't be able to.

"All right."  The words were said, and she exhaled quickly.  "I'll very likely not be successful, James.  I don't think I'll be able to…" Her voice trailed off, and he caught at it.

"Would you care if I came with you?"

"[i]What?[/i]"  Lily, for the first time, was filled with fear for him.  What Tom would do to him if he still suspected James of delivering information to the Ministry she didn't know, but she did know that he would strike first and ask questions later.  "You [i]can't![/i]"

"Why can't I?" he challenged.

"It—it's Tom—what he might do to you—"

James raised his brows.  "I don't think I, of all people, should be worried.  The one who should be is standing right in front of me, arguing that I'm in danger."

"No, James—[i]please[/i]—don't, don't come!"

He frowned, realizing that she was terrified for him.  Moving towards her, he put his hands on her shoulders.  "Lily, is there something else you haven't told me?"

He saw her eyes widen; though almost instantly they returned to normal.  "No.  No.  Stay here…please…"

"No."

Desperately, not even thinking of the option of not going at all that night, Lily ducked, breaking his grip on her shoulders.  Vaulting across a table, she pulled out the necklace, and, without hesitating, dashed it against the fireplace's mantelpiece. 

The familiar spinning darkness surrounded her, and a lump sprang into her throat; one of relief, but also of vague disappointment she couldn't quite pin down.  The next moment, however, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, and as she hit the waves of the Alendoren Cove, her reassured and grateful regard was drowned, partly in terror, and partly—a smaller part—in thankfulness for having a friend with her.

Nevertheless, when she regained her balance—they had landed in water so close to the shore that it was barely a foot deep—Lily was whispering screams at him.

"You idiot!  I told you not to follow me!  Who knows what could happen to you down here?  You idiot, you prat, you bloody, mangled mess of intestines, you—you—" She was exhausted, and the most she could do was sink to her knees, burying her head in her hands.  "You [i]had[/i] to follow me, didn't you?"

He grinned at her, holding out his hands to help her up.  "I wouldn't let you do this alone, now, would I?"

"I don't know," she sighed.  "I don't know.  I just wish you would."

She started parting the waves as she walked towards the sands, but his hand on her arm restrained her, and she turned to face him.

"Lil?"

"Yes?"

"Why're you so worried—er—about me—you've never troubled yourself this much about anyone before, unless it was your mother…"

He half expected her to start crying, but her cheeks stayed completely dry, and she kept her composure.

"I don't know."  She swerved sharply, facing the open sea.  "I don't know."

He didn't pursue the topic; something dangerous and untouchable about her kept him at arm's length all the time they were walking to the cave that Tom lived in.

Before walking in. Lily inclined her head ever so slightly towards James.  "You're staying here.  I don't care how brave you feel—you're staying outside."

Her comportment didn't allow for a single protest from James, and she received none.  Lightly slipping inside the door, she left it open a crack.

Tom was sitting alone at a table, thinner, somehow, than the last time she remembered him, and with an open book in front of him.  He immediately leaped up when he heard Lily's footstep on the threshold; pulling out his wand, he pointed it at her, then relaxed as he recognized her.

"Lily; it's only you—good; heaven knows who else it might have been."

She smiled.  "Who else could have entered here?"

"Oh—I don't know—" he evaded, running his hand through his dark hair, almost making it stand on end.  "I'm just rather stressed at the moment…"

Lily bit her lip, then dropped down on the floor next to his chair.  "Tom, you don't have to do this…"

His head snapped around to meet her eyes, and, with a sharp shock, she noticed the brief flash of red in his eyes.

"[i]I don't have to do this—this that is my revenge on the entire race that has wronged me and my fellows?[/i]  Lily, you don't know a damned thing.  My mother didn't die at birth, like I told you and Lith and everyone else she did—[i]my father murdered her.[/i]  My [i]father[/i] murdered my mother.  He meant to, I know he did.  She loved him more than anyone could ever love anyone, and he repulsed her when he found out what blood she bore.  It killed her.  She lost all will to live—she [i]wanted to die[/i]—and he knew what he was doing.  Stuck-up, rich snob—[i]I hate him, I [/i]hate[i] him![/i]"  His chest was heaving as he spilled his story to her, and she listened, as only she was capable of doing.

"They're all the same.  Muggles, all of them—no one at the orphanage could have been crueler.  They—that race—they [i]deserve to be wiped off of the face of the earth![/i]"

Breathing heavily and painfully as he drew air into his lungs, he started to shake; then Lily laid a soft hand on his shoulder, and his muscles relaxed; he was less tense than he had been in months.

"Tom, that's the way they see it.  If we choose their way of thinking, we are no better than they…and who are we to choose who lives and who dies?  We are humans, Tom, not gods…"

That moment was the critical one, Lily knew.  If he made up his mind now to go on with his intentions, he would never be shaken—[i]if only, if only![/i] she pleaded with her soul.  [i]If only![/i]

Just then, however, a slight crackling sound came to both their ears from outside.  Lily started, and Tom leaped up again, drew his wand, and within moments was slamming the door open.  His intake of breath and James' gasp told Lily what she had feared, and she ran desperately after Tom, who was glaring daggers with his wand pointed at a dark figure crouched next to a boulder.

As she ran closer, she saw that James already had several scratches on his face and robes; he had been dodging curses.

"Tom, [i]NO![/i]"

Tom swerved to meet her.  "What is this—this [i]thing, [/i]this [i]traitor[/i] doing here?  Lily, this scum has been blabbing to the Ministry of Magic—"

"Tom, [i]no[/i]; listen to me!  He hasn't; it was someone else, or else no one did—he swore to me that he

didn't—"

"LILY, STOP PROTECTING THAT TRAITOR!  I TRUSTED HIM AGAINST MY BETTER JUDGEMENT—AND SEE HOW HE REPAID ME?  STEP ASIDE, YOU SILLY GIRL!"

Firmly, Lily stepped in front of Tom's wand, pushing it out of her way.  "Tom, for the love of Litharelen and your mother, [i]listen to me![/i]  He hasn't done a thing; he swore it to me; he hasn't told anyone, not even his closest friends, and they know everything about him!"

Tom didn't listen; for all her words mattered to him, she could have spat at a hole in the ground.  He jerked his wand towards James again, who stood up, refusing to face him on the ground.

Lily was quickly becoming aware of the dangerous person she was facing, and of his uncontrollable temper.  Slowly, she started backing up, until she bumped into James.

He thought more quickly than she did.  Making up his mind in an instant, he reached out for the pendant of the necklace, pushed her to the side of him, looking to Tom and to Lily as though he were refusing to let her face Tom instead of him, but before either of them could blink, he had hit the stone against the boulder beside which he had jerked Lily, and they were both whirling towards Hogwarts, both of them almost out of their wits.  James was hanging onto Lily for dear life, and she was frantically clutching his arm. 

They landed in the common room, three inches away from the fire.  Quickly, Lily somersaulted over the fender; and, exhausted, they let themselves lie full-length on the Gryffindor rug in front of the fireplace.

"Whew," James admitted.  "That did [i]not[/i] go down well."

Lily raised herself up on her elbow.  "I would never have guessed.  [i]What,[/i] in the name of all evil, made you make that noise?"

"What noise?" he defended himself.  "I moved my foot!"

"Oh, help me, Lord," Lily mumbled as she started hitting her head against the carpet.  "I told you that elf-nymphs have much better hearing than ordinary humans, and Tom is part elf-nymph…I [i]did[/i] tell you that, didn't I?"

James nodded.  "You did…but  I didn't think…"

"You didn't," she agreed.  "Let me look at where he got you—what curses did he use?"

He shrugged.  "I don't know.  I've never heard of them before, though—it wasn't Avada Kedavra or the Cruciatus.  I know that much.  It didn't sound pleasant, so I was glad I've been on the Quidditch team for several years---hey, what're you doing?"

She had knelt down next to him and pulled out the small phial made of the solidified litaleter.  Uncorking it, she let a dropful of the liquid inside pour onto her finger, which she ran over a large scratch on James' cheek and a burn on his arm.

"What's that?"

"It's something Tom gave me for Christmas in—fifth year, I think.  It should help heal pretty well—"

She stopped.  The effect on the burn on his arm was more visible than on the scratch; almost like a zipper, the sound skin kept widening, shrinking the red mark till it vanished, which happened in a surprisingly small amount of seconds.

"Okay.  It [i]does[/i] heal pretty well.  Let me see your hand—did you scrape that or did Tom?"

He shook his hand out of her grasp.  "I don't think you understand the big picture—That Lord Voldemort, that you call Tom—he's going to be moving on to England now."

Lily pushed a strand of matted hair out of her eyes.  "Of course.  You didn't think that I'd forget that, did you?"

"No," he admitted.  "That's why I was so surprised when you didn't look as if it had bothered you."

She gave a short laugh.  "I never lose control if I can help it."

The next morning, both of them had to be shaken awake; Lily by Lora, who had been quartered in a different dormitory, and James by the combined efforts, ice, and water balloons of Sirius, Remus, and Peter.  Lily couldn't help suppressing a laugh as she saw his face as he glared at his friends at breakfast.

Every day, in the Daily Prophet reports, something was printed in the bottom right-hand corner of the front page about a 'shadow in the East,' which was warning wizards to be careful about their chosen vacation spot and informing readers about the Ministry's actions.  What they hadn't revealed yet, Lily noticed, was that he was slowly growing stronger and planning to move his people to England.  All that she could make out from the papers was that he was an outcast that attacked everyone that came too close—not a word was said about anything else.

James was more nervous than usual; he jumped when someone spoke to him, and once he had drawn his wand on an unsuspecting first year that had tugged on his sleeve to ask him the way to the nearest bathroom.  Naturally, Sirius, Serena, Remus, and Peter had noticed that something was wrong, but James kept tight shut about everything that had to do with Lily or Tom, and, much to the chagrin of his friends, he refused to say anything. 

Severus had cast several glances at Lily's paler face and at his edginess and assumed something that was, as usual, quite off the mark, but he didn't say anything, remembering the time when he had assumed something and had nearly been killed as a result of it.  Lily's voice still chimed in his head when it was quiet; the few sentences about being in James' debt…He squirmed almost every time he thought of it—who on earth would want to be beholden to James Potter, of all people?

Slytherin slaughtered Hufflepuff in the first Quidditch match of the season; as they had lost their captain, the Hufflepuff team was terribly coordinated, and their moves were jerky and badly practiced.  The game would have been won easily if the winner was also ordained by gaining two hundred points before the other team, but as the Snitch was flitting around and especially hard to find, it lasted longer.

Halloween was coming up quickly; after the match, time seemed to fly by.  This Halloween feast was to be even more grand and decorative than other years; after all, it was the one thousandth year of Hogwarts' existence.  An amazing amount of butterbeer had been ordered from the Three Broomsticks, as James and Sirius found out. 

They had sneaked into Hogsmeade for some candy, and Sirius had suggested that they stop by the post office and send a letter to his parents, who were asking him what his friends wanted for Christmas, as they planned to go to the Netherlands and to Italy.  After picking out a hooting little owl to send off with his message, James had decided that he was thirsty, so they slipped over to the Three Broomsticks.

Behind the counter, a man was stacking crates and crates of butterbeer bottles, and the boys heard her shout to Madam Rosmerta, "Where'd you want these things? You usually don't get these many."

"No," Madam Rosmerta called back; "these are for that Hogwarts Halloween thing; Albus's going all out this year."

"Mighta heard something about that.  So where do you want these," the man asked, trying to keep a crate from falling on the floor.

Naturally, the boys, on their return, had spread the information all around the common room, and from there it took hardly any time before the school knew that they were to be served something other than pumpkin juice.  However, more efforts to find out what their entertainment was to be didn't turn out well; the gamekeeper, Hagrid, was pushing the students away from his backyard almost viciously, and he had handed James and Sirius two detention each for trying to blast through the fence he had put up. 

Still, it was rather common knowledge that there were going to be dishes of truffles and foie gras, which the house-elves were strictly instructed to keep away from the students.  James had found out through his friendship with Minky.  Lily finally found out why he was on such good terms with her; one of his house-elves had had a small daughter, but the mother had been sacked as a result of gossiping about her family to several other families, and the small baby house-elf had been given to Professor Dumbledore to take care of; he was especially good with house-elves, and the small girl wasn't eating well.  Within a few weeks, however, she had been handed over to the care of a motherly Hogwarts house-elf, and she was doing much better.  When James came to Hogwarts, she took to him especially, as she came from his home, and she was devoted to him.

James had told Lily this one afternoon, when the rain was pelting the windows and thunder was crackling almost directly above the castle.  She had asked why Minky liked him so much, and he had given her the history of the small castle servant.

The evening before Halloween, the team was, for once, not practicing on the field; it was raining worse than the standard storms did; the ceiling in the Great Hall was deep indigo and black, with occasional bolts of lightning tearing across it.  They were stretched on the rug in the common room, jibbering excitedly about tomorrow's feast.  The decorations were already being set aside in a room off to the side of the teacher's table, though several peeks inside had only revealed glimpses of black and orange smudges. 

Remus was talking to Sirius about something, and Lily was playing chess with Peter, who was getting much better at it, though James' help might have accounted for his improvement.

"No, Peter, not the knight; don't you see her rook?"

Peter frowned.  "What rook?  Oh, right—that one."  He moved his knight back, which made Lily grimace; if James hadn't intervened, the game would have been hers; instead, he took one of her pawns.  "Move."

"Oh, fine, fine.  I officially hate you, Potter," she grinned.

"Again?" he groaned, rolling his eyes in false agony.  "Oh, no—the rejection, the pain!"

"Shut up," she told him good-humouredly, giving him a light punch in the arm.  Biting her lower lip, she moved her bishop diagonally three spaces.  "Check."
James frowned.  "I'd hoped you wouldn't see that.  Okay, Peter, the next thing you want to move is—oh, hi, Serena."

The girl had ambled over from the fireside, where she had been tossing her hair behind her back affectedly for the benefit of the seventh year Quidditch team members.  Now, however, she let herself down next to James, who offered her the chair he was sitting on.

"Here—I can drag that footstool over."

"Thanks," she beamed.  "So, how's the game going?"

"Very badly," Lily snapped peevishly. 

They stared at her in surprise.  Lily didn't just lose her temper like that; they were wondering what had happened in five seconds to make her that angry.

They were obviously expecting her to explain.  She bit her lip again; she shouldn't have let herself fly off the handle like that.  She didn't know why she had, either—it was something about the pair in front of her that almost drove her wild with frustration, and she didn't know why they got under her skin so much.

"Never mind."  She pushed her chair back and stood, leaving the common room and ignoring the puzzled

"Lily!  Hey, Lil!  What'd we do?"s from the chess table.

She was sitting in her bed with the curtains drawn when the rest of her dormmates entered, changed out of their robes, and got into their respective beds after several whispered conversations.  Three hours later, she was still sitting bolt upright, tailor-style, eyes wide open, and thinking.

"Why did I lose control like that?  I never really minded before…well, I was annoyed, but that's all I was." 

She shifted her foot and tucked it underneath her.

"I hate this…"

Outside, the sliver of moon shone luminously into the circular dormitory, and, amongst the noise of the Owlery, Lily could discern a raven's caw.

The next morning, she was a bit quieter than she normally was, but that was almost expected from James and Peter, who still didn't know what was going on.  Lily had stayed up all night, unable to fall asleep; she had been reflecting on the past evening.

The Great Hall hadn't been decorated yet when they entered it for breakfast; they could hear the pipsqueaks of bats coming from the room off of the teacher's table if they listened closely, but otherwise nothing came to light to show that there would shortly be a large Halloween feast in the chamber.

Lily perked up a little in Anatomy of Magical Creatures; they were studying the vampire and the reasons that it had a strong desire for blood.  Professor Maar told them he would be bringing in a specimen for them to study and learn about, and she was looking forward to that.  Several of the girls in the classroom let out disgusted "Eurgh, we're going to be messing around with a dead vampire?"s, and they were sharply reminded that they had volunteered to participate in this course and that it was not required for their graduation from Hogwarts.

Professor Dorvan had informed them that they were to be learning about curses barely known throughout the wizarding world but that were quite popular at one point in history.  They weren't as well known as the Unforgivable Curses, so no one was extremely familiar with them, but they were just as dangerous, having to do with the control of the mind, almost like the Imperious Curse, but these controlled different aspects of a person and were harder to break; one controlled speech, one sight, one the power to make decisions…

Sirius kept shooting odd glances at her; James had obviously told her about what had happened that night at the chess table.  She didn't like the funny gleam in his eyes that seemed to say that he knew something that she either didn't know about herself or didn't want anyone else knowing.  Either way, it wasn't too good for her.

Lora stopped her frequent visits to Gryffindor Tower; one of the Slytherin prefects had followed her through the house-elf corridor she used, and he had taken fifty points each from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.  Lily only saw her friend during some classes and at meals in the Great Hall; Lora was sitting with Sheila and her friends now, who, she revealed with the air of someone pulling a cadaver out of a paper bag, weren't that bad to be around.  Still, she could be found in the hospital wing quite a bit on evenings with Madam Pomfrey, who was rather peeved that the headache medicines she had dosed Lora with hadn't proven themselves so far.

The afternoon before the Halloween feast, their classes had been canceled; the teachers were going to be busy in the Great Hall.  Lily was sitting in an armchair, scribbling busily away at a roll of parchment held down with several Arithmancy and Transfiguration books, when James tapped her on the shoulder.

She spun around.  "Yes?"

"We're supposed to go down to the Great Hall…you know, help decorate.  Something about being Head Boy and Girl," he added in answer to the question on her face.

"Oh."  Lily rolled up her essay, then let out an exclamation of exasperation as she realized that the wet ink had smeared every single word she had written for the last ten inches.  "Oh!  Goodness, that just had to happen, didn't it?  I should really start thinking before I do things…"

James coughed.  "You need help?"

"No," she waved absent-mindedly,"—no, I'm fine…okay.  I'll be right down."

She swept her books off of the table with one neat motion, saved the ink bottle from hitting the floor with a rapid charm, and drifted slowly out of the common room.

When the portrait had shut behind them, James ventured a question.

"Hey—Lil—I wanted to ask you something."

"I am [i]not[/i] going to let you copy my Transfiguration homework."

"No, no—it's nothing like that.  It's just—Lily—"

He had been biting his lip nervously ever since he began talking, and, still edgy about the topic of conversation he had picked, he stopped, as did she.

"Why did you storm out of the common room like that?"

It was her turn to look away.  For several seconds, while her brain was whirlstorming frantically, she busied herself with studying the structure of afternoon clouds.

"I don't like Serena much; that's all.  She annoys me terribly, and I don't like being around her."

"She never used to bother you that much before."

"Before what?"

"Oh, just—before," he ended lamely, waving his hand around for emphasis.  "Before—er—well, [i]before.[/i]"

"I see."  She eyed him warily.  "That explains absolutely everything."

"Sorry," he apologized.  "I just don't know…you didn't mind her much in fifth year…"

Lily shrugged and resumed walking.  "That was fifth year."

It was his turn to say "I see" skeptically, and he said it.

She didn't answer; just kept walking down the hallway, fixedly ignoring a sighing mermaid in a picture, chained to a wall, singing something about young love and its fatalities.

"Hey—Lil—" He caught up with her again.  "You're getting much harder to talk to lately…is anything wrong?"

"No," she said firmly.  "No."

"I just mean that I'd like to talk to you more.  You're a wonderful person; you know that, don't you?"

"No," Lily said again, and this time she sounded as if the next person to give her a compliment like that would have his tongue ripped out by the roots and shoved into one ear and out of his nose.  James cleaned his nails nervously with his teeth.

Then, suddenly, he straightened, with a funny lopsided grin on his face.  "Lil?"

"Yes?"  If words could freeze steam, hers would have done it.

"Lil, you'd better start talking to me.  I paid for those dress robes, didn't I?"

She swung around, but at the sight of his grin she couldn't say anything.  Lily couldn't help it; she had to smile, too.

"Oh, you little—"

His grin widened, and he stuck out his hand.  "Hey—let's make this fair.  You talk to me, I'll stop pestering you about Tom.  Okay?"

Her face clouded over a bit, which was what he had expected to see; he had thought that that was what she had been checking the Daily Prophets for.  Still, she shook his hand.

"Deal."

"Can I have a hug?"  Trying to imitate the small pout Lily's mouth had been drawn in, he held his arms open wide like a child of three, eyes the size of saucers.  Lily couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, okay, okay, fine!"  She hugged him, but, with a mischievous grin she couldn't see, he grasped her around the waist, lifted her up above his head, spinning her around as fast as he could, she whispering wildly, "James Potter, let me [i]down![/i]"

He grinned at her, as her long hair started to fall in both their faces and hit the portraits hanging on the walls.  When he started to get slightly dizzy, he swung her down, letting her lean against the banister of a staircase; he next to her, one arm on either side.

"You—you—you!" she breathed, trying fruitlessly to repress a grin.

"Me," he stated.  "Enjoy that?"

"I'm extremely dizzy.  Of course!"  She swept her hair off to the side, but then whipped her head back around to face him.  "[i]Don't [/i]do that again."

"I promise!" he beamed, eyes twinkling.  She breathed again.

"At least, not within the next hour," James added, grinning.

Her face fell in mock dismay, but both of them dissolved in laughter moments later.