Back with another chapter!
Zetta: thanks for the feedback, and good question: you'd think they'd notice the deaths, wouldn't you? I'm answering that in this chapter :)
This chapter is brought to you by Bob the Atlantean Bogglefish, who is probably shell-shocked at this unexpected turn of events and can be fully expected to be astonished for quite a bit of time. For those of you who have got no idea what the heck I'm talking about, go read Artemis Fowl: The Ivory Files by Nyghtvision.
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The House of Wolves
Lily pounded down the hall after having left James. She felt better to be out. Her hands were shaking, and she hadn't know if she could keep her composition one more second in front of James.
It had shaken her, seeing James like that. Although she'd never been on the best of terms with him—hell, she'd never even liked him at all—she had still come to see the teenager as someone who didn't slip up, who held all the cards plus an extra ace up his sleeve; the boy who knew the ins and outs of everything and was never outsmarted.
The James Lily had seen in the hospital wing was injured and rattled—although still defiant as ever, his confidence as well as his arm had taken major blows. It was a frightening thing to see, the rock being chipped away at.
Lily made up her mind. Yes, she had told James that she had something to do, and she was going to do it—she was going to McGonagall. Hopefully James' attack and the boy who did it would be sufficient for the professor to hold on to in order to gain more evidence. At the very least, Lily could inform her of some of the boys to look out for.
Lily rounded a corner until she was face-to-face with the door of the teacher's lounge. She hesitated, and then rapped on the wooden frame.
"Come in," came a melodious voice.
Lily pushed the door open. "Professor McGonagall?" she asked.
"No, no," said the voice. "Professor Parka. May I help you, dear?" said the professor under heavily done eyelashes. The professor was currently putting on another layer of polish on her fingernails—this time a dazzling pink. Lily grimaced; she could never figure out why an intelligent man like Dumbledore would hire such a bumbling idiot as Parka, who made little secret of her career previous to teaching at Hogwarts—exotic dancing.
No other teacher seemed to be in the room. Lily could hardly blame them.
"Do you know where Professor McGonagall is?"
"I believe, dear, that she is assisting Headmaster Dumbledore in a minor matter in London. Although I do say, she might have bothered to fix her makeup before going out into public, or at least put some on. She has the most unsightly little blotch right next to her ear." Parka winked cheekily. "But don't worry; you'll have your dear professor back before the morning."
Lily had never noticed the 'unsightly little blotch' before, and her mouth thinned in irritation and worry.
Parka caught this last bit a delicately set down the little bottle of polish. "Something on your mind, dear?" She sounded eager, as though she were expecting a bit of juicy gossip.
Lily frowned in thought. Should she tell Parka? No matter what a dimwit she was, it wouldn't hurt to have some more of the staff on the alert, she supposed. And Parka was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, although her theories of defeating dark creatures were usually centered on giving them free lap dances. Lily made up her mind and nodded, sitting in the chair across from Parka, who leaned forward eagerly.
"You see," Lily began.
James strode out of the hospital wing, a new man, fresh with confidence and vigor. His useless arm was in a white sling. He still couldn't move it, but he was starting to vaguely feel stabs of pain every time he tried. They were burning sensations and not very pleasant.
The teenager was lost in thought after having checked the common room for his friends, and having barely gotten out from the mob that massed around him there, hugging him and slapping him on the back, and telling him how oh-so-brave he was. Nettled, James replied that just about anybody could get attacked by a griffin.
Now, he was ambling along towards the library in search of his group. He briefly reflected on the words Vargas had spoken the night before in the hospital wing.
'Killed the President before him'? James shook his head. Impossible. He was bluffing. Vargas was a seventh year. He joined in fourth year, which would have made James a third year at the time. If there had been a death at Hogwarts, James would have definitely heard about it, and there hadn't been one at Hogwarts for as long as James had been there.
James stopped. A death at Hogwarts…
He started rushing towards the library, his arm bouncing against his side. He ran in and slowed immediately when Madame Pince gave him a warning look, and speed-walked down near the end of the library.
Remus, Sirius and Peter were sitting at one of the tables quietly doing work. Seeing the angry look on Sirius' face, James had no doubt as to what he was planning—revenge. Hurting James was like injuring Sirius himself.
"Hey," James said nonchalantly. The others looked up and grinned as he approached.
"Pomfrey let you out?" Peter asked, smiling. "You didn't run away?"
"Nah, who could blame the nurse for wanting my company?" James winked. "I humored her by being a good boy."
The others laughed, doubting that. James' face suddenly grew serious. "Look, I need to tell you something. Daniel Vargas came to visit me last night." He paused as everyone took a sharp breath. "He told me some things…"
Once he had finished telling them, Sirius was snarling angrily, too furious to spit words out. Remus, also, was showing a rare display of anger, eyes flashing. Peter was still in a bit of shock, and looked at James worriedly.
"He killed him?" he asked.
James bit his lip. "I don't know. I thought at first he might be bluffing, but…I don't know."
"If anybody had died, we'd have heard about it," said Remus, reasonable as always but still angry. James shook his head.
"We'd have heard if it were a murder," he said slowly. "But…" James abruptly turned and walked quickly into a nearby aisle. The other Marauders waited apprehensively until he returned, holding a big glossy black book.
"This book has got every student from the past two years," James said, quickly flipping through it. "There should be something printed saying if anybody died at all." Pages whizzed past. "I don't get it…" He trailed off as he rested on one page.
Obituary was printed in curved black letters at the top. Below was a black-and-white picture of a surly looking boy with a mop of black curls and a sour expression. A caption followed the photo. Dread settling in his stomach, James read it aloud.
"On June fifteenth, Marlo Wyoming, approaching his seventh year at Hogwarts,
died during a tragic accident in which he most unfortunately was attacked by a wild
hippogriff on his family's estate. The hippogriff was tracked down and killed by
the Ministry, but there as of yet, there are no theories as to how the beast
managed to bypass the protecting charms placed upon the Wyoming estate.
Marlo will be remembered by his family and peers."
James' breath caught in his throat after he read the passage, and there was a deathly silence around the table.
"It could have been coincidence," Peter suggested.
"My attack could have been coincidence," said James, wearily shutting the book, "had not half a dozen kids seen otherwise."
Peter nodded and stared miserably at the table. Any day now, James was going to have an accident too, and there was no telling from which way it would come. The teenager was massaging his temples with his one good hand, sagging tiredly. Peter realized that he must have lied awake the entire night, waiting for someone to come and try to kill him. James drummed his fingers on the table. Remus caught his eye.
"From now on," he said firmly, "we are not letting you out of our sights."
Before James could protest, Sirius leapt in. "And don't say that we'll get hurt too, Prongs, we bloody well know that; we're not stupid. Marauders have to stick together and pummel the hell out of anybody who tries us." Peter nodded in agreement. James stared openly, and then suddenly grinned, relief and confidence flooding back over him again.
"We should go to McGonagall," he said. The others shook their heads.
"We can't tonight," Remus explained. "McGonagall's with Dumbledore in London, overseeing some foreign relations stuff. Flitwick's in charge—not sure where he is right now."
James shrugged, unbothered. "We'll tell her when she gets back." His eyes flashed. "And we give Lupi hell."
Sirius grinned and nodded enthusiastically.
"Nonsense, dear, absolute nonsense," chortled Professor Parka, who had gone back to painting her nails. "If there were something like that in Hogwarts, we'd know! Us teachers see much more than you think!" She winked and tapped her head.
Lily sighed in exasperation. She'd been desperately trying over the last half hour to explain everything to Parka, but the stupid woman just wasn't getting it. All she did was add coat after coat of lurid pink polish to her fingernails and twitter, hiding her disappointment that Lily hadn't come to share some gossip with her, insisting that Lily was just over-imaginative. If James were there, he'd say that Lily wasn't imaginative at all, and that if she were she would be a bit more fun.
The thought of James sparked a third wind, and Lily stubbornly tried again. "A boy was attacked, Professor!"
"By a griffin," said Parka. "I don't think they'd give a griffin a standing job in the 'cult', would they?" She giggled at her own joke, and Lily had a very James-like urge to punch her in the face.
"People saw Shiloh Shanks hex the griffin James was working with," she said, as though speaking to a child.
"A pity, really, that accident," Parka said. "James is such a handsome man. And so graceful, too—he'd make a wonderful dancer, I could teach him."
Lily stared, aghast. Not only was Parka plainly ignoring everything that Lily was saying, but was as well as openly admitting that she often ogled James. Lily had the nasty feeling that she'd do more than try to teach him to dance. Lily stood up abruptly, startling Parka.
"So sorry to bother you," she said with clenched teeth. "Good day."
"Good day," Parka chirped. "Do tell James that I wish him good health. And tell him that he's got free dancing lessons anytime he wants them. I'd be happy to oblige."
Lily's hand went for her wand, but she nodded and furiously rushed out of the room before her hand could do anything. She stormed down the hallway, not really sure where she was going and not really caring at all. Her footsteps rung loud and echoed in the hallway. Lily sighed and figured that maybe she should go the library and see Remus, Sirius, and Peter, telling them not to expect help from many places.
She stopped to double back in the direction of the library. But as she stopped, footsteps still continued ringing. Lily frowned; she hadn't thought that anybody was there. "Hello?" she called. Nobody answered.
Lily was inclined to believe that it was her imagination—and was inclined to later inform James that yes, she did have an imagination, even if it wasn't full of hiccupping leprechauns like James' was—but didn't move. She knew that someone else was there. Her hand dropped on her wand just as a boy stepped out from a shadow.
Lily almost sighed in relief. Micker Linguini, the Half Pint. The relief ebbed some as she saw the arrogant sneer on his face that still bore signs of punishment. Lily frowned. "Why are you following me?" she said irritably. "Didn't your mother tell you it's rude to stalk?"
"Didn't yours tell you that it's rude to tattle?" Micker taunted.
"'Tattle'?"
Micker's smirk widened horribly. "You're diggin' into things you shouldn't, babe. Hurting ladies ain't my particular brand of vodka, but it's for the best." He raised a wand.
Lily's eyes widened. "How long have you been following me?" she demanded.
"Since long before you stopped to have a little chat with Parka," Micker said, sounding very pleased with himself.
"Well, I guess I looked right over you, Lasagna," Lily said easily, discreetly reaching for her own wand. "Didn't think to look down."
Micker bristled at the remark, and fruitlessly tried to straighten up and make himself look taller. "It's Linguini," he snapped. "You've been hanging around Potter too much. In fact, you've been hanging around him so much lately that we all began to think that you were hearing things you shouldn't. I know that's true now." He brandished his wand threateningly. "This is what happens when you snitch."
Lily grabbed for her wand, and had gotten it halfway up when Linguini, smirking nastily, shouted a strange word and a fierce, blinding gold light raced towards Lily, hitting her in the chest just as she'd started to utter her own curse.
The girl crumpled and landed on the floor in a heap.
Micker grinned, yellowed teeth flashing. "Adios, sweetheart." With that amazingly clever parting shot, he turned and ran down the hallway.
James and the others were walking down the hallway, cheerfully plotting out revenge. Of course, any course of action that they took would mean that James—and the other Marauders, probably, especially Peter who would have to be careful to emancipate himself from them so as to not look suspicious—would have to watch their backs, but they unanimously decided that they would not take it all lying down.
Many of their ideas revolved around the same basic concepts as their earlier prank had. Sirius had swiped a few more Playwizard's from Largo Ingles' stash—hidden under a floorboard in the seventh-year dormitory—to get some ideas, protesting as Remus pointed out that he really didn't think it was ideas that Sirius was looking for. Padfoot shrugged and said that Remus was just jealous that he couldn't find inspiration like himself.
Remus smiled wryly and said that Sirius' drooling showed that he was not in deep thought.
Sirius threatened to but Remus a Playwitch.
Remus blanched and shut up.
James laughed at their bickering, amazingly glad to be out and about with his best friends. Lord, that hospital wing had been boring. James had passed his time by singing the school song in English, Japanese and Pig Latin, had drummed out the William Tell overture and the annoying jingle to KWIZ, the local popular wizarding radio station; and he even spoke in third person narrative when conversing with Madame Pomfrey, which successfully both annoyed and charmed her.
Pains had begun in his arm, causing wincing, but nothing too serious yet. It really only happened when the arm received a severe jolt, and the nerves attempted to send messages to the brain to register movement. Since the bonds were just barely starting to fuse together, the pain had started out small and ignorable at first, but was quickly increasing in intensity. James just shrugged it off.
They were just heading for the Great Hall for some lunch, passing the teacher's lounge, when Peter spotted something lying in the hall ahead. "What's that?" he asked curiously, squinting his eyes. The others followed his gaze and their eyes fell upon the motionless shape on the ground. James, having the sharp eyesight that had been honed from years of Quidditch, saw it first—the long, red hair, spread out in a fan on the floor. His breath caught and he couldn't breathe.
"It's…Lily," he gasped, breaking into a run. The others immediately followed, rushing over to the fallen girl. Remus instantly checked her pulse, sighing in relief when he found a good, strong beat. Her chest was rising and falling.
"She's breathing," Remus said. James wasted no time before conjuring up a stretcher. They carefully eased her on and set off down the hallway at breakneck speed. James' arm bounced against his side and a white-hot needle of searing pain sliced through. James gasped and clutched the arm, still running, jaw clenched as he kept a white knuckled grip on the limb.
He had expected pain, but this was beyond anything he'd ever experienced. His heart hammered against his chest until he thought they were going to combust. The pain ran up his shoulder and neck in a torrent of fire, scalding, as if he'd stuck his hand in lava and couldn't pull it out.
Finally, he stopped, gasping. The others skidded to a halt, looking worriedly at him. James was doubled over, eyes squeezed shut.
"Go on," he rasped. "Get her to Pomfrey. I'll follow." He was exhausted just getting out those words. Remus hesitated only a second before hurriedly saying something to Sirius, James couldn't hear what; then Remus and Peter ran down the hallway with Lily still unmoving on the stretcher.
Sirius doubled back to James, catching his shoulder just as the teenager's legs buckled and failed. A hot tear escaped from the tightly shut eyes, and Sirius stared as it trailed down James' cheek. Never in his life had Sirius ever seen James cry, not one single tear. And now his best friend, his brother, was wracked with pain and there was nothing Sirius could do about it. He knew that it was the nerves reconnecting and registering commands from the brain, that it was part of the healing process, but he still felt helpless as James leaned on him for support.
They slowly made their way down, following Remus who had already disappeared with Peter and Lily around the far corner. James took shuddering breaths that shook his whole body, which now seemed as fragile and delicate as porcelain.
Sirius felt a rage settling on him as he helped James across, mercifully not encountering any students on the way.
Lupi was sure as hell going to pay.
Another cliffhanger, I'm horribly sorry, and there's not a chance of me getting another chapter up by tomorrow morning. Don't strange me, or you'll never get to find out what happens! I'll update in a little over a week. The next chapter will be good, I promise, and will hopefully make up for the evil, evil thing I just did.
Skye and Zetta: thank you, thank you so much for the amazingly long reviews! It's been such a wonder to read them. I really, really appreciate your honest feedback. :)
The next chapter will focus on James and Lily, probably, as well as the beginnings of a little thing involving Remus. La la la…bye! Off to camp I go :)
Review, if you dare :)
