A/N: (Disclaimer) The observant ones may've noticed some slight plagiarism in that last chapter. For those who aren't that observant, or maybe, haven't read/seen LOTR, Arbollents are Ents. Actually they're like "los arboles" (trees) and "Ents" from the The Lord Of The Rings, by J.R.R.Tolkien. They aren't EXACTLY like Ents, but a bit arrogant and impatient, etc, etc, you'll see. Enough of that, though; on with the story.
The city lights were twilight
Though their noise was obstruction
Your kiss was my privacy
The visits to the veterans
Lying in their war graves
Your touch was my pride
I held a plastic bouquet out
And their feeble bony hands
Reached out and grasped only the lilies
For I had told you once
How I loved them so
And you found one to tuck in my hair
Remember?
Think of smelling my sunny mane
And kissing through your fears
Of the schoolhouse looming dark beyond
It was only a splotch in the light
For the sun was our star then
And ahead the many fathoms
That separate us (of fears, but, not water)
I think: are you thinking of my now?
And those times you are I see your deep brown eyes
Your hands reach out
And I do feel their heat flowing into mine
I'll tuck a stray behind your ear
That you may kiss me just once more
Like you care.
"I--had a--run in with--huff--couple--of--centaurs," James said.
"What? That's not possible! They would never hurt anyone!" Hagrid protested. Sirius agreed, asking hurriedly about the arbollents.
"One of them fended off the centaurs for me, but I'm still in pretty bad shape. Lily, hand me that rag, would you? My head is pounding like a bitch." Lily was dipping a wet turkish towel in a fuming liquid.
"Hold on, James. I turned the tea into an antiseptic, hope you don't mind there, Hagrid," she apologized. She brought the pot over, setting it on the table where the three others were seated and squeezed the cloth of excess liquid. Hagrid looked disgruntled at the sight of his yellow tea.
James let out a piercing yell. Sirius jumped. "Tough, Prongs. So what happened then?"
"Sirius!" Lily said.
"What exactly was wrong with my tea?"
"So what happened, then, get on with it."
*
"Bagman, Rookwood and Potter were on assignment in the Forest."
The mood of the Hollow was lachrymose and humbled. There hung a sense of impending doom. Longbottom sat in a far corner strumming on a guitar a melodious pianissimo rendition of Satie's Gymnopedie. The routine caucus of the Order (though informal) was tense and hesitant. Alastor Moody was nervously fiddling with his cloak's button, as he spoke.
"And it is clear that we can now trust very little to come out of our overall investigation."
There was a cough. Frank had stopped his music and the silence was domineering. The thick, rolling fog stifled the building and masked it, and the window's latches rattled with the wind. They were discovered, Moody said. The Death Eaters had convened and Voldemort was far off in India, at some obscure southern port. Either Bagman or Rookwood had given away their whereabouts to the Dark Lord. Framed the Order's man (Potter) to look like some dark creature had devoured him without a trace. Potter was...dead. Missing. But very little hope remained; even the centaurs weren't on their side anymore.
A chair grated in the front of the small room as someone stood up, agitated. Sirius lay a calming hand on Remus and he sat back down, his gray eyes glittering disconcertingly in the dim light of lit wands.
"It is clear also," said Dumbledore, when Moody was finished, "That the Ministry could never have been trusted as we thought in the beginning. My relations with Fudge proved useless after all."
A woman in her mid thirties adjusted her woolen scarf about her and cleared her throat.
"I'm dreadfully sorry to interrupt, sir, but it seems to me nothing can be concluded until the trials--"
"Miss Sty," Dumbledore said, "I'm quite aware of your affliction with Bagman, but I'm afraid this has very little to do with sexual rendezvous and whatever little disturbance the unavoidable conviction of his will cause to your personal life-as opposed to the loss of one of our finest Aurors, and a significant decline in our progress to expose Riddle's power structure!" His eyes were flashing in anger and Ethel had cowered back into her chair in fear. Many shocked faces turned from one figure to the other. Suddenly, he gave a shuddering breath.
"I'm really sorry, Ethel. Forgive me, will you?" he said at last. There was a very brief-stunned-silence.
"Of course, Albus." She smiled. Her hands unconsciously smoothed her head which was covered by the woolen garment.
"Now," he continued, "The trial is in a week. It's the earliest I could get out of Fudge. It is clear that Malfoy has some sort of personal black mail on some of our key Ministry individuals, but I'm sure with Crouch and Moody and a few others," his eyes roamed around the room, "we will have a majority vote on the jury."
"Minerva, Severus, Lily, please transfer your contact information for the next week to the others before they leave this room. Do not under any costs reveal this location to anyone and I will see you at the next meeting as we've planned." Dumbledore disappeared with a dull plop sound as the many people flocked to the three indicated figures to connect wands.
*
"James, the Death Eaters have Rookwood! There's some sort of scuffle going on! Voldemorts not here, but damnit I think he's going to turn spy!Spill all our secrets...Oh it's all a mess, come on--"
James looked around at the three figures behind him. He embraced Sirius and Hagrid and gave Lily a lingering kiss.
"I'll be back soon," he said to everyone, his forehead pressed reassuringly to Lily's.
That night, neither did James return, nor one of the three sleep. And Lily especially-for days afterward.
On one particular occasion, although, while she dozed in her break--she had a vivid dream of a snake and an arbollent healer.
*
Lily looked rather slim, and sickly. All of the female members, and most of the male (who knew her) offered hugs and condolences. Some even had tokens and trinkets and their own humble memories of the invulnerable James Potter. Lily, although, was rigid and emotionless toward their meagre (though well-meaning) intentions. But in all she was not blamed for even Dumbledore was affected by James's death. The picture of an impersonal and big-picture pursuit of justice that he painted for Ethel Sty was now, in the face of the impossible, an unachievable ideal even to him--diehard optimist though he was.
Lily was the last one to leave the Hollow (Remus's apartment). She visited the parseltongue next door--she'd brought him a pet boa constrictor--and an old deaf-mute hag(the landlady)--who gave her back a pair of sandals and muggle clothing she'd left in the building.
She bid both farewell with a weak smile and gave the landlady the key. Remus had gone into hiding somewhere in Africa. She was fully intending to commit suicide. Right after she fetched that damned werewolf's things for him.
Oh, and did Sirius's laundry. And Peter's paperwork. She needed some inane chores to bury herself in, but she hardly realized that such mindless work only made her think more.
Think. Of James's death. Damn it all. Everyone just fucking died. She was cursed. It was definitely a sign. That she had to die to put an end to the madness. Damn Sirius's laundry. She had to die, and that was way more important. She frustratedly kicked a pebble and ran all the way through the three mile distance to her current abode (which she shared with Sirius). She didn't trust herself to apparate. That would've been such a messy and prolonged way to die then. All those people trying to "save" you..how pointless.
She hurriedly prepared her rope with her wand, muttering to herself. She cursed aloud when she'd realized that she'd forgot all the knotting charms she'd learned in sixth year and threw down her wand in anger. It hit the stone stool on which she stood and splintered neatly into two pieces. She proceeded to do it the muggle way. She broke a carefully tended pinkie nail in her haste and the blood tainted the new white stiffness of the wax coated coil.
"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?" someone yelled frantically from the doorway. Oh screw it. She'd forgotten to close the door again. She screamed in decided agony as Sirius picked her up off the stool and set her harshly on the floor. Her struggles were feeble and worthless, although as Sirius began to lecture her (trying to over-scream her in the process).
"You!! What the hell is wrong with you, you crazy BITCH?! This is the third time today!--"
"--Then don't Black, just leave me the fuck alone! why can't you see that you're just a damned nuisance to me?! I HATE YOU! I hate, hate, hate, hate--"
"WHY didn't you just slit your wrist, then, huh? Why not sleeping pills? Avada Kedavra? Huh? Answer me Lily Evans, huh? Why the hell are you trying to ruin my--"
"I wouldn't want to stain your plush carpet!" She glared at him, and spontaneously screamed at him as the wall behind them started to crack.
"SHUT UP!!!! I HAVE NEIGHBORS, YOU KNOW!! And I swear I'm not letting you die to leave me paying for that wandless shit you do everyday, you psychopath--" a dog howled in the distance as Lily stopped screaming. There was the hacking cough of ruptured blood vessels.
"Oh Lily..." Sirius said. His faced twisted and a few tears escaped his tired eyes. He embraced her frail form and she willingly subdued
She began to sob, but her throat was dry, and she ended up hacking more blood and phlegm in addition to her salty tears. Sirius summoned a pitcher and she eagerly grabbed it midway in the air and gulped it down.
"Sirius, I'm--" she sobbed again-tasting bile in her mouth. "God, I'm such a mess." But she never got to divulge further on the point, owing to the vomit splattered across Sirius's chest.
She ran into the bathroom, retching the contents of her stomach out into the washbasin. Considering she hadn't eaten in a few days, she was quite surprised at how long that had lasted.
When she'd finished and come outside she saw Sirius in new robes, trying to clean the carpet with some solution that was pouring out of his wand.
"So much for not staining your carpet." She smiled. He grinned back. He began to say something more, but a sudden sense of dread enveloped her. Something clicked in her mind. No. This was worse that Death. Oh, why was she so ill-favoured? No, this wasn't happening. She saw Sirius's wand.
She willed it towards her and (once it was in her hand) pointed it at herself.
"What are you doing?" she heard Sirius ask-puzzled-before the wand glowed a dangerous red. She thought: no! And she blacked out.
"Lily?" Sirius said. No answer.
"Lily, tell me, what happened?"
"Sirius I'm--"
"What?" he said, dreading the worst.
"I have to--"
"Tell me--should I call Dumbledore? The Knight Bus?"
"No! I'm...pregnant."
Sirius gasped. And they looked at each other for a long moment.
And he laughed, heartily, gathering both of them in his arms and kissing Lily's forehead.
"Messing up my carpet indeed! You're out to ruin my social life, that's what. At this rate, I might as well marry you..."
Lily broke into a hysterical wail and wept for atleast an hour afterward. Sirius, on the other hand, happily plopped her on the couch and went off in search of a quill to owl everyone he knew.