Lily, the Vampire Slayer

by: Branw3n

Author's Note: I really think no one liked that l/j stuff I posted. I only got a couple of reviews! Well, I'm still gonna continue this, though, I don't care what anyone says! Mech, I told you to shut up about the last one! You want another asthma att- well, ahem, I'm still sorry about that, you know! And Merry Christmas, BTW. This is your very late Christmas present, you know. Feel kinda bad about the gift I gave you. And I'll try to put in some Siri/Cassie for you, even if you did make fun of me about the last chapter!!!

Chapter Nineteen

She stuck her head out the carriage window, reveling in the feel of the air whipping at her face like tiny icicles while it stirred the fallen leaves on the ground, swirling them around her head in a tiny tornado. She never thought she would have missed Hogwarts nor Hogsmeade. The castle grew on you, daring you to leave, tugging at your heart, telling you that you've found home.

She smiled at the thought. She had never found a structure worthy of calling home. For her it was the people that you lived with that created a sense of warmth and protection. Ernie had been home. Maybe she had learned to like the Marauders enough to call the place all of them inhabited a home. Samantha's house could have been called home too, her grandmother treated her like family but they could never be rightly called that.

There was so much that she did not know of the Parker family, their neighbors, their coven nor their culture. She might have died for them, but that wasn't much. It didn't mean anything. She had to die for any and everyone. She was connected to everything and yet could associate with nothing. Her life was a poignant one; she had learned that a long time ago.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts as she focused on the castle, lit up by millions of floating candles with every window brimming with a homey warmth, it could have only borne out a fairytale, had the Lake not have reflected the half-moon off its surface, giving the castle an old Romanian look.

She would have stayed that way until they reached the castle steps had Remus not pulled her back in her seat and gave her a stern and reprimanding look. She grinned and shrugged, preparing to stick her head out once more when Sirius quickly traded places with her, shoving her to the side and firmly closing the window.

"Never know what's out there, Lil'," he summed up, leaning against the glass.

"What're you so wary about?" she asked, noticing the boys' gloomy airs since they had boarded the train. She had felt it emanate off every Hogwarts student she had encountered. No empathy was needed to tell her that something horrible had happened. Even Sirius was unusually closed off, though one wouldn't notice it unless they truly spoke to him. "What's everyone so scared off?"

"Voldemort." James muttered, spitting out the name as if it was some bitter fruit he had the misfortune to have tasted.

That didn't help much. "Who is he?"

She looked at James for further enlightenment but found no help there, he only ignored her and turned his face towards the pane, staring off into nothingness. Fine, be that way. You aren't that much of a kisser.

She set her orbs on Sirius, who was staring at James with sympathy and grief written all over his face. He wasn't paying any attention to anyone but James. What's wrong with you, Siri? That expression on your face should be considered illegal.

"Remy?" she whispered tentatively, gazing at him with a look of utter hopelessness. She hadn't done anything wrong had she? Anything more wrong than usual.

He looked at her, eyes eerily yellow in the dark carriage. He seemed to be contemplating on some serious decision as he trained his eyes on James then back at her. He opened his mouth and closed it then opened it once more.

"Voldemort, well, he was once a student from Hogwarts. A Slytherin Prefect and then Head Boy. He was rumored to be of Salazar Slytherin's blood, though it is impossible for he was half-Muggle." At her puzzled look, he explained further. "Salazar Slytherin is one of the four founders of Hogwarts. He hated Muggles and disallowed any Muggle-borns or half-bloods to join his house. They had hand-picked their students while they lived and before they died, they placed their thoughts, more like preferences, really, into the Sorting Hat.

"It chose for them, then. But back to Voldemort. Well, Slytherin left Hogwarts because of a conflict in ideas with Godric Gryffindor, who had helped create the school in hopes of having everyone who could wield study. Well, Voldemort seems to have upheld and put to action all of Slytherin's beliefs. He's been killing all Muggle-born witches and wizards, half-bloods and, well, supporters of the type.

"He has a band of followers," at this he glanced at James, who had stayed indifferent towards Remus' tale and still was. "They called them Death Eaters and well, the Ministry, they're our world's government, had their Aurors. These Aurors are witches and wizards' police and sometimes their spies. Death Eaters carried out most of Voldemort's orders, they used Unforgivable Curses, banned curses, on their victims. They tortured them, made them mindless bodies to use at their disposal and killed them.

"James' parents," he lowered his voice to something lower than a whisper, talking to himself, really, that Lily could not have heard anything if she hadn't her heightened hearing. "They were Aurors. The best and-"

James stirred and growled. "Tell her, Moony. Tell her what they did to my parents. Tell her how they first tortured my father into giving them information about the other Aurors and when he wouldn't how they cut my mother up, my mother!, and have him watch her bleed to death all the while telling him that they would spare him if he would lead them to the Aurors Headquarters and when he wouldn't say anything, they slit my mother's throat then her belly. And how they broke every bone in his body until his mind went with it, too."

Her eyes widened. She didn't know what to say and she knew it would have been better if she didn't say anything. Didn't offer a word of condolence that would sound shallow to his ears, that would only add fuel to his fragile sanity. She was equally silent as they exited the carriage and trudged up the steps that led them into the Great Hall.

Looking around, she was quite surprised at the countless pallid visages some students donned. Voldemort, Remy said. He was just as bad as the demons she fought, if not worse. She could sympathize with her peers. Her own parents had been murdered and it was due to her calling. She might have experienced worse for it was she who had to call the police after she literally stumbled over their bodies.

She hadn't had time to grieve then. It was after, when the full realization of the entire situation had finally dawned upon her. Petunia had disallowed her from attending the funeral, which she crashed, amidst her sister's horrified gasps but the older Evans sister could do nothing about it, lest the other mourners think horribly of her.

She slid into a seat and rested her elbows on the rough grainy texture of the table, cupping her chin in her hands.

James was quite an expert at concealing his misery. She hadn't noticed anything wrong with him. He was the determined, ardent though kind boy that she had come to occasionally detest the last year. His amorous advances back on the train seemed to be ordinary enough, well, a usual enough action for him.

"It isn't your fault, Lily," someone whispered into her ear, patting her comfortingly on the back.

She tilted her head to the side and looked up into Remus' compassionate orbs. "I know. I could relate, I acted the same when my parents kicked the bucket. Bitched at everyone, openly, though and blamed the world."

He nodded.

"He's coping up real well, better than I did, anyway, even better than Petunia, though that's not saying much," she set her eyes on the back of James' head as he flirted with some Gryffindor Seventh Year. "We Evans are really the 'manic depressive screw the world' sort."

"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit, Lily," Remus smiled warmly.

"Naw," she shook her head vigorously, curled crimson locks splaying around her shoulders while a few strands strayed across her face. "You shoulda seen me. Hit the operatives the Watchers gave me so hard that I gave one amnesia, the other a slight concussion. Wasn't even called yet, then. The other Slayers-in-Waiting were freaked."

He gave her a fond glance before turning his attention to Dumbledore who stood up, making his annual speech. She tuned him out and continued to peruse James, who was whispering something to a giggling girl who was nearly perched on his lap. She gave a snort, as Dumbledore acknowledged the Head Boy, a Hufflepuff, and the Head Girl, a Slytherin. James didn't seem too visibly damaged though she knew how some well some people hid their emotions, she being one after the grief had left, leaving only unbearable nothingness.

She heard her name being spoken, though she wasn't supposed to hear it. She was very perceptive with such things. She whirled to face the other side of the table where she caught some girls in the act of insulting her, very evidently clear as a scornful finger was pointed in her direction.

She sneered at them and as she turned to face Dumbledore, she caught some girls from the other table, Hufflepuff?, give her contemptuous glances, some even scoffed at her, glaring rather rashly at her and if she weren't in a crowded establishment, she would have laughed her head off at the absurdity of it all.

She distractedly heard Dumbledore finish his speech and she turned to Sirius, who was situated beside Remus. "Hey, Siri?"

He looked up at her, mouth filled with chicken as he replied. "Wha-?"

"Is it just me or are those chicks over there kinda dying to bite my head off?"

He gave the Hufflepuff table a momentary glance, oblivious to the sighs that some of the occupants let out as he regarded her once more. "Yes."

"Do you happen to know why?" It was quite difficult speaking the way they did, over Remus' head which, even bent over his plate seemed to block her view of halfo of Sirius' face.

He shrugged, then nodded but continued to shove spoonfuls of food into his mouth, chewed thoroughly before taking a drink of pumpkin juice then wiping his mouth with his napkin, all the while pretending Lily wasn't nearly ready to strangle him for his over-dramatics. Sirius Black, the melodramaticist.

"Sirius!" she hissed, fingers clenched onto the sides of the table, digging deep crescents onto the oaken surface, restraining herself from cracking it in half. "I'm getting very irritated. You wouldn't want me irate, now would you?"

"No, I wouldn't," he replied innocently.

"Tell me!"

"What should I tell you?"

"Siri!"

"Maybe it's to do with the fact that you and James were snogging in the train."

Sirius watched her turn from white to red in a second flat, thoroughly amused.

Face red, she made a lunge at him but was intercepted by a rather sturdy arm that wrapped itself around her middle, pulling her back down to her seat. She looked up at the person the limb was connected to, and found Remus giving her one of those Watcher-patented gazes. She frowned. "What?"

"You're patrolling tonight, kill something then, not Sirius."

Her frowned didn't waver, his gaze hadn't either.

He reminded her of Ernie and all those other Watchers the Council had had train her and she knew she was gone. She stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest, stuck her lip out to soften the rebelliousness in her actions and stared straight ahead.

Faint movements once again began by her side and she heard the clatter of silverware as Remus resumed feeding himself.

"You snogged Prongs?"

She whirled to glare at Peter who sat on her other side. "Piss off."

"Glad to see some British influence over you," he replied smoothly.

"I hate this place right now, you know."

"Yes, you hate everything here in Britain except for well, maybe…" he trailed off, simulating deep consternation before his face brightened. "Prongs!"

She sneered and, as an act of malice, elbowed him out of his seat, making a face at his amused face.

"That wasn't nice at all," Remus reprimanded, attention still on his plate. She was glad she hadn't disturbed him, he was looking a bit too gaunt lately.

Instead of voicing her concern, she snorted and replied, "I know."

*               *                *               *               *

Breath came out in erratic gasps, heart beating wildly against ribcage, limbs pumping, trying to keep up with the set pace as hair flew about a flushed façade. Sea-green eyes took in the surrounding forest as sharp ears detected the snapping of twigs which came from behind. The forest floor was literally littered with them, seeing as to it was mid-autumn.

The creature before her had set itself into a dead run, struggling to escape from an inevitable second death. She removed a sharpened stake from her belted breeches and quickened her velocity. Now, she was directly behind the vampire's back. She thrust the stake forward, feeling the stake pierce deathly skin and the sickening sound of wood connecting with spine.

Maintaining the complicated dance, she turned to face the other hell beast as it neared her. She felt, more than heard, the first half-breed burst into dust as she backed herself up onto a wall, the cool marble a welcome change against her flushed skin. She could sense its anger emanating off it in overpowering waves. She had just killed its paramour, it had a reason to be livid. But she couldn't quite grasp the source of its emotions, it was dead, a mere shell which a viral demon inhabits.

Her heart calmed as it neared her, the once handsome face now marred beyond recognition as the vampire had decided to show its true colors. When he had been alive, she had the pleasure of making his acquaintance, once, at the Seasonal Ball held at the Royal Palace, while he was still human. He had been a wonderful bookish man, a man with which she could initiate a proper conversation.

But his schooled mind did not save him from this fatality, something worse than death. She could smell the coppery stench of blood as it approached her, eyes glinting with malice and unbidden hate.

"Yer the Slayer?" it snarled, halting a foot away from her.

Her mouth remained a hard line.

"Yer no more than a child, a prissy little whore."

Her eyes narrowed, one hand creeping up the back of her breeches, to the weapon she had concealed.

"Dressed up like a man when ye should be in taverns earning yer keep, or is this how ye Royals attain yer thrills? Chasing men."

Her arm flew in an arc over her head, lightning fast as she beheaded the filthy beast with the Athame in her hand. It hadn't even registered its imminent decapitation as its face was still contorted into a malevolent sneer as it turned to dust.

She allowed herself to revel in the kill before the darkness gradually disappeared to be replaced by a pinkish-blue light, the false dawn. She had to return before they noticed her missing.

Today was an important day, for both her and the entire kingdom. It was today that their princess would meet her intended and it would be through the course of that visit that she would wed him.

She had to leave.

And with that last thought, Princess Marie Claire of Luna bolted over the castle's Royal Palace's boundary, deftly landing on her feet on the other side and speeding towards the East Wing, where her room was located and where Noelle would soon be waking her from her 'slumber' and have her primped for her fiancé, the elusive Prince of England Wizardry.

*     *     *     *     *

Lily rubbed at her eyes as she felt a soft poking at her side, restraining herself from reacting with her usual brash action.

Pushing herself off the velvet couch, she blinked rapidly, trying to get the world around her in focus. Her limbs were numb, as if she had just run a decathlon instead of having slept.

"Wakey, wakey, Lil'," Siriuis' voice sing-songed as his face swam before her.

"Whaddaya want, Siri?" she grumbled, stuffing sock-clad feet into worn combat boots, grabbing her artillery bag out from under the couch.

"You have to go patrol, don't you?"

She spared a glance at her wristwatch, quarter past midnight. "Damn."

"That's right."

She looked up at him. "What're you doing up at this time?"

He grinned mischievously.  "It's a surprise."

"Prank?"

"Righto."

"Alright," she nodded, pushing up from the couch. "Wanna come?"

"Uh huh."

"Carry this," she muttered, shoving her bag into his chest, heading for the portrait hole.

"Jamesie, can you help me?" Sirius' voice was uncharacteristically squeaky. Almost comical, really.

But it wasn't the way he said it that made her turn around, it was more of what he said. Potter was there, as sure as Sirius had said, half-relieving Sirius from the weight of her bag.

"Bloody hell," he cursed under her breath. Nothing good was going to come out from all of this, except maybe the fact that she was using more British euphemisms.

She huffed. "Well, watcha waiting for? A vamp to bite your ass? Get over here!"

*     *     *     *     *