Chapter 12: Back with the Old, On with the New
The weeks before the commencement of winter holidays were nothing short of chaotic. Besides the general paranoia directed toward You-Know-Who and all news concerning the Dark Order, the students at Hogwarts were consumed by die-hard studying for the midyear exams.
Professors Evans and Potter, being something close to a shamelessly lovestruck couple, were at first completely oblivious to the negligence they were displaying in their teaching. This might have continued for the rest of the year, had not Lily's famous work ethic—driving force of the Head Girl within—made an amazing comeback and, from its former downtrodden position, reared its rebellious head before rising to greater heights than before.
One day she found herself at the table in her and James's shared lounge, drafting lesson plans—that is, she had her papers in front of her, and her quill poised above the schedule. James was sitting across the table, supposedly grading papers. Instead of filling her schedule with detailed plans, in her usual tiny script, however, Lily found herself instead doodling all over the margins of her page and languidly playing a game of footsie with James under the table. Lily had never condoned this sort of behaviour, even in her Hogwarts years, as she usually attributed all such acts to James's groupies; it was therefore very much of a shock to her when she found herself in possession of said behaviour—in very bad form.
Her epiphany struck James just as forcefully—physically, as she inadvertently kicked out her foot, which connected with certain parts of James's body in a very powerful and convincing manner.
Henceforth she went back to work with a vengeance, refusing to allow James to distract her and pointing out to him—with certain effective physical reminders—when he reproached her, that his work was suffering as well. Soon both professors were back to teaching at full capacity. To promote professionalism, they stopped visiting each other while class was in session, and barely spoke during the day except at meals.
It was because of this newfound resolution of theirs—to concentrate on the task at hand, especially with the coming of winter holidays—that the final exams and essays the two of them dreamed up were among the worst Hogwarts had ever seen. The review sessions the professors held were crammed full of anxious students. As each of these sessions ended with various points covered on the exams being discussed, students were often seen exiting the classrooms with looks of extreme panic on their faces resembling that of livestock being led knowingly to slaughter. Tortured students were seen wracking their brains, wrenching at their hair, and ripping parchment into miniscule dust-sized bits in the library, surrounded by stacks of books on Transfiguration or Charms theory.
In the halls, Filch had his hands full trying to catch candy dishes that still scuttled along sideways like crabs (on several occasions, he ended up accidentally dashing them against the stone walls or steps, after which he had not only to clean up the scattered bits of glass or porcelain, but also strange, fishy-smelling debris). Or levitating quills that refused to come down from the ceiling (the quills—much to the destruction of Filch's mental equanimity, if he had ever been possessed of any—besides having been the target of various Wingardium Leviosa charms, seemed to also repel nets and other devices commonly used to catch small flying organisms.).
Ignoring the pained cries of their students, James and Lily drilled them hard and might have succeeded in surpassing McGonagall's long-held record for severity when it came to discipline within the classroom, had not the Deputy Headmistress and Professor Flitwick returned unexpectedly the very week before winter holidays.
The two older professors were present in the Great Hall for the evening meal on the Sunday preceding the week of final exams; both looked rather tired and incredibly shaken. They refused to discuss their findings until the next meeting of the Order, and insisted that Lily and James continue as planned until winter holidays began.
"No, James, we shan't take up our shifts until the new year, I think," McGonagall said wearily, in answer to James's question. "I daresay both of us will appreciate having winter holidays to recover from this trip."
Flitwick was falling asleep in his seat; his head bobbed, and several times, he nearly toppled over. As soon as the meal was over, both professors retreated to their respective quarters for some much-needed rest.
In light of the return of the professors, who without a doubt were burdened with weighty news, Professors Evans and Potter were slightly more lenient in the administering of exams and the subsequent grading of those and the final pre-holiday essays. Students thanked Merlin, and the few that could went home. An extraordinary number stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays; it could only be assumed that their families or guardians were in hiding, and that Hogwarts was the safest place they could possibly be.
As it turned out, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick did not have a chance to go into much detail about their travels at the next meeting of the Order; the first death of one of their number (or, in this case, two) put quite a damper on things, and no one seemed to want to talk about anything else. One of the most recent attacks had taken the lives of Aurors George Craven and Frederick Corser. A quiet, intensely brilliant man, Craven had been generally well-liked and about as unobtrusive as they came—or rather, as unobtrusive as it was possible for him to be, as an Auror. Corser had always been somewhat reclusive; to those who knew him, however, he was a gentleman of the old order, who had been against Crouch's suggested use of the Unforgivables, deeming it a question of honour and "sinking to the enemy's level." Neither left a family behind to mourn him, but those of the Order and in the Ministry felt the loss deeply. It was said that young Arthur Weasley, of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, who had greatly admired both men, had christened his small twin sons George and Fred in their memory.
So while McGonagall and Flitwick's news seemed to have been relegated to strict confidentiality between them and Dumbledore for the time being, the loss of yet more workers, especially Aurors, was a heavy blow to the already understaffed Ministry. Consequently, Moody demanded James back to work, and Lily's services were requested back at Defensive Charms. The two of them were given leave to finish up with the last week of that year, and to take another week off to move their belongings and settle back into their home before returning to work.
Partings, as always, were sorrowful, at least for the larger part; Hagrid wept profusely and made the couple promise to visit him regularly. Fang took to howling whenever he saw the two of them, blending his voice with the sound of Hagrid's sniffling. The gamekeeper presented Lily with the recipe for his special treacle tarts ("I've jus' (hiccup) perfected 'em, (sniffle) Lily"), which she accepted out of courtesy, inwardly swearing never to make the tarts unless intent on James purchasing false teeth prematurely.
The students, especially those enamoured of James or Lily, were rather sad to see them go; those who Lily had befriended and offered counsel to during their brief sojourn were practically heartbroken. Lily and James had been popular in their own time at Hogwarts, so it was hardly surprising that they were popular as professors, as well. Lily's admirers followed her about relentlessly after she told them she would be leaving during the holidays; general gnashing of teeth and exhibitions of sackcloth and ashes ensued, etc., etc…
"We'll never forget you," sobbed the president of James's fan club on his last day of class. A much-diminished group of girls (many had dropped from the club when the Potters' marriage had been brought to light) were congregated in James's classroom after his last final exam; it had been a particularly grueling one, but no matter: in their eyes, Professor Potter could do no wrong. That is, except to marry someone else.
"Will you come back and visit?" another girl asked wistfully, dabbing ineffectually at her streaming eyes.
"Yes, please do!" several squealed, their eyes red from crying. One of their number was standing off to the side, wringing her soaked handkerchiefs out furiously. A small puddle was forming on the ground, which would necessarily be discovered and ranted over by Filch later that day. "You'll come visit us, of course you will!"
"Well, I—" James found himself at a loss for words. The onslaught of admirers often left him stressed and speechless; what could he do with them?? "I don't think—"
Sensing a rejection of some sort coming, the president, tears still flowing unchecked down her cheeks, clasped her hands beseechingly, making the greatest concession she could. "You can even bring—" she gulped and nearly choked, but continued valiantly nonetheless, "—Professor Evans, if you must."
Several of the other girls nodded sorrowfully. James had to work to keep a straight face.
"Why, thank you, Miss Abbott," a voice replied coolly. The girls swiveled their heads around to find Professor Evans leaning casually against the doorframe. James found himself grinning at her rather stupidly. She had a wry smile on her face as she strolled slowly into the room. "Am I interrupting something?"
Several of the girls shot her venomous glares, while most of the others merely backed away. There was a small splash as the girl who had been wringing out her handkerchiefs dropped the entire wad into the puddle. The famed Miss Abbott mumbled some excuses and the entire group moved as one (much like a herd of elephants) out the door.
"I suppose not," Lily smirked, perching on the edge of James's desk. "Have fun with your fan club, Professor?"
"Don't start," growled James, snapping to attention. "What about yours? Don't try to convince me you haven't got admirers. I saw the way those seventh years looked when you announced you were leaving. I wonder who's been followed about besottedly for the past week…"
"Why, James," Lily said, in mock surprise. "Were you spying on me?" She shook her head and tutted. "I would never have expected such unbecoming behaviour from the Transfiguration professor, James, and quite frankly, I'm disappoin—"
"Spying!? I saw you lurking outside my classroom that one time during your free period, and I'll wager it wasn't the first time—"
Lily laughed sheepishly. "Well,….you know, it's my other job! It wouldn't be right if the jealous wife didn't act the part." She grinned at him adorably, and James could almost physically feel his heart melting. "It's one of my more endearing qualities."
"I suppose," James said, gathering up all his belongings and stuffing them haphazardly into his bag. He reached for the last bit of parchment, which Lily was conveniently sitting on. "Excuse me, Evans. I'm afraid I must deprive you of your seat, as it's one of my students' final essays."
"Oh, is it?" Lily looked unconcernedly at the parchment in question, then looked back at James with a delightfully arched eyebrow. "Make me."
James's eyebrows had shot up, and the corner of his mouth curved upwards, slowly. "You don't know what you're up against, Evans. Better run while you can."
Lily sat still and threw him a challenging look, then yelped and took off running as she saw him advance toward her. She was waving the parchment from her hand as she ran, and James could do nothing but take off after her. The two of them sped through the halls, laughing and shouting at each other and barely avoiding hazardous collisions with both students and teachers. Snape scowled ferociously as James knocked him on the shoulder in passing, and several students shrieked and flattened themselves against passage walls. Even Peeves stayed well out of the way, though he did make rude noises as they ran past.
And so the last time the students saw their Professors Evans and Potter, they were again causing a commotion in the halls—but a much happier one.
The transition between Hogwarts and Ministry work was relatively smooth; James and Lily were settled back with all their belongings within a couple of days and spent the remaining time they had before resuming 'regular' work pottering about the house (no pun intended, really) in perfect matrimonial bliss. Well, perhaps not "perfect," exactly, as they did occasionally still have their hexing matches, and James's hair was again banished neatly multiple times.
To allude to the rather neglected best friends of James Potter, Peter Pettigrew had been kept busy all this time working as an assistant bookkeeper at Flourish & Blott's and spending time tending to his ailing mother, who had always doted on him. Sirius Black had been working at various jobs—he just couldn't decide on one and settle down, he declared—while spending much of his spare time with motorbike Adhara frequenting pubs. Remus had been shunted from job to job, as when applying for each he was forced to disclose the secret of his lycanthropy to his employers, which cost him many an opportunity. He had taken to traveling to exotic places, where werewolves weren't as feared, though he did miss home. News of developments in controlling werewolves led him to more remote areas of the world, from which places he sent interesting letters and packages of exotic sweets.
The group had a few reunions while the Potters were still on vacation; they usually hung around the Potters' house or the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. There Madam Rosmerta flirted shamelessly with Sirius, though she was many years their senior; gave Remus free drinks and sympathetic smiles; and quite doted on Peter. She always winked at James, but was chummy with Lily; the two women would sometimes swap stories about annoying men over butterbeer.
Things between James and Lily were better than they'd been in ages; though they had their occasional spat, more often than not visitors to the couple found them indulged in some sort of couple-like cooperative activity. Gardening, where James ended up carting Lily about in an old wheelbarrow, shrieking in laughter; cooking, where James managed to do nothing but get in the way (the results of which were meals that only James could stomach—their friends did their best to avoid staying to dinner on those days); or merely quietly reading or writing, usually in the sunny sitting-room where they would sprawl comfortably on the sofa, one's head in the other's lap.
Much as the couple had enjoyed teaching at Hogwarts, both of them found that returning to work at the Ministry was well worth coming back to. Things were extraordinarily busy, what with the understaffing. Lily's hours were now as uncertain as James's, and the times that they could be together for meals became rather infrequent as compared to before. They made it a point to meet at midnight, which usually wasn't a problem unless James was called out on a raid, to relay accounts of their days and have a small snack.
It was on one of these days, when they hadn't seen each other for fully 24 hours and were finally meeting at midnight, exhausted, that James noticed the change in Lily's appearance.
"You haven't been sleeping, have you?" James asked, after gaping for quite some time. He turned the lights off in the kitchen with a flick of his wand as the two of them headed off to bed.
"Not really; is it that obvious?" Lily asked, barely stifling a yawn.
"Well, no, but you do look tired today," he replied, caressing her cheek. "Don't overwork yourself, all right?"
"I won't," she said, smiling slightly. "It's not as though we need the money—I would quit if I didn't enjoy it. We could live modestly to a ripe old age off that inheritance of yours."
James laughed. "All right. I know. Watch for the wizard's flu—I've heard it's coming round."
"You make it sound like Santa Claus," Lily giggled sleepily. At James's mystified expression, she just laughed more before crawling beneath the covers. "Muggle thing."
Notes:
This is a quick update because...because...I dunno? I felt like it? Aaaactually, what I've realized is that my chapters are all rather on the short side as compared to, well, just about everybody else's on my favorite list; so I feel somewhat justified posting chapters in such quick succession. :D
everblue3 – You and your 10K chapters. ;) We all love you for it.
Hmm…hopefully there are more amusing fluffy moments in this chapter than the last? I completely agree with you about Snape; I still see him as something of a git, despite the loving attention Oy! Angelina showers him with—while I love her characterization of him to pieces, the adult Potions master of the books seems (to me at least) to be quite a notch up on the bitterness/unwilling-to-listen-to-reason scale than hers is currently. So yes, while he does have a brain and, as you say, personal hygiene, he is still a git. :) So now that we've established that, let's move on…
Um. I forgot what I was going to say. Durrr….
A.bird Liz – Thanks for reviewing! Update faster??? But then you wouldn't have time to digest or review! ;D I like the feedback…
Kirbee – Not to worry…I just checked out my Chapter 13 and fluffiness abounds. (Well, I consider it fluffiness, anyway.) In fact, I was considering combining this chapter and #13 simply because nothing much really happens in either, but I was too lazy to try and sew up the seams. (Yeah…the laziness will be my downfall someday…) Hopefully this one has enough bits of fluff to keep you reading, though :)
Quack Quack 88 – Thanks for the review! Actually, you're right…I'm glad you pointed it out. I just reread this chapter and realized there's no kissing in it at all! So now I'm just mystified at how I thought I was attaining fluffiness without kissing…hm…
rosezgarden – I see my attempts at vagueness have not eluded you. Sigh. ;D What did Snape do to gain Dumbledore's trust? I'm not too sure, either, actually. Hm…well, I'm going to make the assertion that Dumbledore's a good judge of character, and Snape's actions in general have shown him a great deal over the years.
