La la la…sorry 'bout the cliffhanger from last chapter. Well actually *cackles*…I'm not, because I love tormenting people. :) Thanks to all that reviewed!
My week at summer camp was interesting, to say the least. I am now sporting about seven mosquito bites on my face and numerous ones elsewhere. Nevertheless, I've got some strange memories—such as camping out and bringing a tent that was missing the poles, hiking a mile back to main camp with some other girls and getting some, bringing them back and discovering that they didn't fit the tent, and ending up sleeping under a dubiously constructed tarp. However, I did have delicious donuts in the morning.
Sorry I kept you waiting!
This chapter is brought to you by a house elf with a strange fetish for raw fish and funny-smelling begonias.
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The House of Wolves
James sat dully, tapping his fingers out on the bedside table. Madame Pomfrey had quite stubbornly insisted that he stay in the hospital wing that night. He hadn't objected at first, being duly worried about Miss Evans, who had been towed into the hospital wing only minutes before.
Yet only ten minutes after she had come in, she woke up. Completely unscathed, at that. Not a scratch on her; nor was there any hint of mental repercussions. Pomfrey had given her a thorough check and, upon discovering that there seemed to be absolutely nothing wrong with her, reluctantly agreed to allow Lily to leave. James had frowned as she passed by without even stopping to talk to him, not even a spare glance through his separating curtains. He had been used to that before, but…his brows furrowed. Just because she'd visited him once didn't mean she'd do it again. He'd been stupid to think that things had changed.
James drummed angrily to some march song in his head that he'd gotten from Warlock Scouts at some point in time, glaring disdainfully at his arm that dared to still throb. As he got to the cymbal crashing, the offending limb gave a stab of pain, and James had flicked at it irritably. He'd come to regarding it as a separate living entity, attached to him yet not obeying any of his brain's commands. That arm was mocking him. James scowled.
He was still dubious about Lily's sudden recovering, especially after being attacked—perhaps it didn't work, but the members of La Camera dei Lupi were not known for messing up. James was completely positive that it was they who assaulted her—who else? The Slytherins didn't usually bother with Lily, as she was most certainly capable of holding her own.
James shook his head and sighed. He finished the droning march and began to tunelessly belt out a polka chant in Swedish and then gibbering it backwards in Pig Latin, which he was particularly fond of. He wiggled his toes that were bare underneath the cotton sheets, and vaguely wondered why all hospital rooms were blindingly white. He was briefly considering painting a rather potent cartoon of Snivellus with his wand ink on the wall, but that train of thought was interrupted as a knock came at the door of the hospital room. James immediately gripped his wand, even though he couldn't make out the figure from behind thick curtains.
He relaxed about a hair as Sirius, flanked by Remus and Peter, came in. James tilted his head, considering them.
"Remember the time we tie-dyed the Slytherins' robes?" he asked off-handedly, before his friends had a chance to speak. They glanced at each other warily, and James tightened his grip on his wand.
"Sure," said Remus, as though dubious of James' sanity. "Why?"
"What number was that in the Book?"
The Book was a record that listed every prank that the Marauders had pulled at Hogwarts, so as to make sure that they never did the same one twice. James narrowed his eyes. They should know…
Peter thought. "Number ninety-three," he said, and James relaxed his white-knuckled grip. "Why'd you ask?"
"No reason," James said lightly. "Reminiscing earlier glory days." He gave an inaudible sigh, tensed muscles unknotting. Polyjuice Potions didn't fill in the memory, just the transformation.
Sirius nodded knowingly. "Ninety-three, which was right before the week we charmed the gargoyles to follow Snape around and make faces behind his back," he said reassuringly. James nodded and sat back.
"Have you talked to Evans?" he asked nonchalantly.
Remus frowned. "Yes. She said that she felt fine, no side affects or anything. We asked her what happened, and she said that she'd tripped over a crack in the floor and knocked her head. And no, nobody tripped her," he added, seeing James' mouth open.
James frowned further. That truth only incensed him more—if nothing was wrong, how come she wouldn't look at him? Had she gone back to despising him? The teenager scowled. Fine. Whatever. He didn't care. She could be a bumbling bimbo if she wanted to be.
"We also asked her if she'd talked to you yet," Sirius said, seemingly casually, although James noticed the drawn expression that Padfoot always wore when trying to phrase something delicately, which usually never happened. "We weren't sure if she knew you were in the hospital wing too."
"And?" James tried not to look interested.
"She, ah, said she knew," said Sirius, looking a little uncomfortable. He looked at Remus for support.
"Yeah," said Remus unhelpfully. "She said she wasn't in the mood for, ah, 'juvenile conversation'."
"'Juvenile conversation'?" James snapped. "I don't think that—"
"Neither do we," Remus interrupted. "She was probably just dazed. That was a hard knock she took."
James shrugged. "Whatever," he mumbled.
They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a while, with James boring a hole through the opposite wall with a stony gaze. Then Peter brightened.
"I have good news," he said happily. "They're charming the doors to recognize me. They said it'd be done by tomorrow night!" He smiled triumphantly. James looked up, anger vanishing instantly. Lily was forgotten.
"Really?" he asked excitedly. "Brilliant!"
"We'd best wait a while before having Peter lead McGonagall down there," Sirius mused, looking unusually thoughtful. "A few days, at least, so they don't suspect anything…" Remus nodded. However, James' smile faded slightly.
"By tomorrow?" he asked. "Why so long?"
Peter shrugged. "They said that Recognizing Charms take a bit of time."
James accepted that and allowed the grin to creep back up on his face. Sirius looked distinctly happier now that his other half was slowly returning to normal—normal for James, that was—and pulled something out of his robes. He thrust a humongous chocolate bar into James' good hand. "Pomfrey said you could get out this afternoon," he said. "This should tide you over until then…don't let her see you; she'll go mad, she caught me trying to sneak in a niffler I nicked from Professor Kettleburn—thought I'd let it have a bit of harmless fun with all the shiny furniture…" He glanced appraisingly at the gleaming metal bed frame. "It's a shame; Filch always keeps this place sparkling…"
James smiled wryly as he bit into the chocolate and appreciated the peanut butter taste. "I'm sure you could manage it," he said innocently. "This place is so boring, I'm about ready to rip off my other arm just for something to do; it'd be cool to see if I could manage a fork with my toes…"
Sirius grinned. "Or else you could just cover the bad one with the Invisibility Cloak and make it look like it's missing again, and see Pomfrey trying to look for it…" He laughed. "That'd spice things up a little. She'd wallop you as soon as she found out though."
"Anything to keep me around for a little longer," James smirked.
True to her word, Pomfrey let him out a little later, provided that he promised to be a good boy and take his painkilling potion. James nodded cheerfully. It tasted like cherries and had the interesting side affect of making him blow raspberries whenever someone said the word "bloke."
There were no crowds of gushing students to welcome him back to the outside world this time, as his friends had taken special measures to make sure that they didn't find out. James wasn't quite sure what this meant, but had a nasty feeling that he knew when Lulu Longernub had come up to him and said that she'd had a great time and the cherry mouthwash had been a nice side affect, but didn't think that it'd work out between them as Filch sort of ruined the excursion. James nodded mutely.
He was sitting at the table currently, listening to the ever-present arguments between Head Boy Terry Gallows and his unlikely best friend Largo. Unlike James and Sirius, who simultaneously agreed on everything, Terry and Largo absolutely refused to acknowledge a mutual understanding between them. Even when they were of the same opinion, one felt obligated to play the devil's advocate.
James was trying to multitask by listening to them bicker while at the same time not trying to look at Lily, sitting a few tables over and not sending a single look his way. She didn't even thank him for helping—or rather, trying to help her.
Largo was just finishing a suspicious lecture on how Inhibition Lowering Charms worked so much better than Love Potion #69's when Terry, red-faced but still listening in spite of himself, stood up.
"Speaking of," he coughed, "potions, I've got an announce—" He broke off and winced, realizing his mistake just as a chorus of voices and thumps rang out.
"Announcements, announcements, annoooouncements!" The students sang, banging on the tables, James included, thumping his good fist and singing along. "Terry's got another one, another one, another one, Terry's got another one, he has them all the time! Announcements, announcements, announcements!"
Terry tried fruitlessly to interject at this point, but the students weren't finished. "It's a terrible death to die, it's a terrible death to die, it's a terrible death to be talked to death, it's a terrible death to die! Announcements, announcements, annooouncements!"
Another futile shushing attempt later: "Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream! Throw announcements overboard and listen to them scream! Announcements, announcements, annooouncements!"
Terry sighed as he waited for them to be finished. James and Sirius had started the chant at the beginning of the year, cheerily aided by Largo who was dearly wanting a good way to hack off the new Head Boy. The song had spread until every Gryffindor knew it, and Terry was wary of the "A Word". Sometimes, however, it slipped out, and the students gave him hell about it. He did not make too many announcements; he was just doing his duty.
"Are you done?" he asked dryly as James, Sirius and Largo finished in a low, mourning funeral march a full minute later than everyone else. They nodded in satisfaction.
"We've got another verse coming, Head Boy," Largo said, crossing his arms.
"A way to avoid this would be to stop having any announcements at all," Sirius advised. Terry tried to frown but his face just wouldn't obey his command. He sighed again and ran his hand through his blindingly blonde hair.
"Fine. I've got a proclamation," he said. "There was an incident in Potions the other day, in which several nameless persons were involved." Terry cast a significant look in the direction of Blotter, who blinked innocently. "Professor Blatterby wishes it to be known that he has hired a professional warlock to come in and cast brand new security charms as the old ones appear to have rebelled against him, locking him out instead of any miscreants." Terry allowed himself a small grin as students hooted with laughter and the Marauders grinned at each other. "He said that these particular charms have interesting effects, and he strongly advises any and all to stay the hell away."
"That sounds like a challenge," James said idly, itching his arm.
Terry raised an eyebrow. "If you're going to do anything stupid, Potter, don't get caught."
"Spoken like a true Head Boy."
The others laughed, and James sneaked another look in the direction of Lily, and was disappointed to see that she hadn't even broken a smile. James huffed and turned his attention back. So she'd never really approved of his jokes before, but she usually laughed in spite of herself, catching herself in horror and struggling to turn the grin into a disapproving frown. This wasn't like her.
Terry sat down, his cheeks still pink. Largo proceeded to tease him mercilessly, aided by helpful comments from Sirius. James didn't join in, but leaned back with a look of hard concentration genuinely plastered on his face. Something was wrong. Remus noticed.
"Something bothering you?" he asked lightly, with a pointed nod in Lily's direction. James thought about lying and saying no, but Remus had an uncanny ability to see right through people. James and Sirius had tried endlessly on getting him to use this talent in the direction of the girls' showers, but no dice. James shrugged and itched his arm again.
"She's just being weird, is all," he muttered. "She always is. Nothing new."
"I noticed," Remus said. "Not at all like her usual self, you have to admit…do you think she really fell?" he asked in a low whisper, voicing James' own unspoken question. Sirius had turned his attention back to them and he snorted.
"Of course not," he said. "She looks lobotomized."
Peter looked at the redhead worriedly, with a shroud of guilt clouding his features. If something was wrong, then it was his fault…he looked down miserably. James saw this, reached over and flicked him on the head. "Don't go getting all weepy on us," he intoned. "She'll be fine." Peter nodded, not wholly convinced, but with a spreading conviction that he would do whatever it took to help her.
Later that evening, Remus was working in the corner of the common room. James had dashed off to the little warlock's room, and Sirius and Peter were deliberately trying to provoke another stimulating argument between Terry and Largo. His head was bowed low over his lunar chart. He was busy trying to calculate the exact position of Orion's Belt during the summer month of July, a particularly annoying constellation that tended to hop around for the hell of it.
"Hi, Remus," a voice said. Remus looked up to see Lily Evans standing there, a smile gracing her face. It was the first hint of expression that she had shown that day, but the smile didn't seem to reach her eyes. "Working on the Astronomy homework?"
"Er—yes," said Remus, not really sure what else to say.
"Hey, Remus," said Lily, as though struck by a sudden thought, "how come you're always gone so much? And you look so sick whenever you come back." She tapped her fingers absently on the tabletop.
"Er—I get it from my mother," Remus said lamely. "But she has it much worse, so I visit her a lot…"
Lily peered at the lunar chart. "Always around the full moon?" she asked mildly.
Remus' heart leapt into his throat, and he couldn't breathe. He forced himself to remain calm and expressionless. "I never realized. I'm sure that it's coincidence," he said firmly. "Why would I do that?"
"Trying to skip school?" Lily suggested, watching him.
Remus shrugged. "You know me," he said lightly. The act was becoming easier, and his words glided more smoothly. "Anything to skip Potions."
"You're sure?"
The question threw him off guard. "Yes…"
Lily shrugged. "Just strange, that's all. I guess it was always coincidence." She smiled another one of those smiles that never stretched to her eyes. They were narrowed. "Keep working on that chart. I'll see you, alright?" She turned around and went back to her group of sunny, chatting friends. Remus suppressed the cold shiver that threatened to run down his spine, the same chills he'd gotten when James and Sirius had first begun guessing about his absences.
His brows furrowed. Something was definitely wrong.
James came back from the bathroom, hands already jammed into his pockets and whistling a showtune. Remus did not share in the lightheartedness, and James saw the worried look twisting his features.
"What's up?" he asked carefully, noticing that Lily was looking his way. Remus shifted and James had a very bad feeling.
"Nothing," said Remus, not wanting Lily to overhear anything. She was watching them like a hawk. Remus chewed his lip, absently tapping his quill against his parchment, unconsciously spreading inkblots that coincidentally formed an uncanny resemblance to certain parts of the anatomy.
Lily wasn't being herself. There was nothing more to it. The warmth in her smile was gone, replaced by the cool, steely tone that she used to use with James. Sirius was right—she was looking lobotomized, and he felt no small amount of anxiety over the questions she had so callously thrown at him. Normally she would never had pried into his privacy, and would certainly never fire the interrogative questions so brazenly. This was not good.
James watched the emotions flit over Remus' face—doubt, confusion, and concern being the greater majority. He spared a glance at the redhead, who was once again ignoring him like for all the world he didn't exist.
It was strange, watching others deal. James leaned back and quietly allowed his anger to fester at Lupi, as an underlying layer of guilt thickened and coated his mind until it absorbed the anger and turned it on himself. It was his own fault—there was no getting around that. He shouldn't have told Sirius; should have hidden it from Remus. Then they'd never have been involved—he wouldn't have to lose sleep over his friends, including Peter, getting hurt.
Peter he felt the worst about. He was already in Lupi before James asked him to spy, but James, in his zeal to catch Vargas, was putting Peter out there first. He felt like a hypocrite, hanging back and critiquing while sending his friends out into the battlefield. James was doing no such thing, but that wasn't what he told himself. At that moment, James Pleiades Potter hated himself more than anyone in the world. He honestly, truly despised himself.
The teenager sighed, scrubbing his hair. He felt old. He shouldn't have to put his friends in danger; that was for generals and leaders of thousands. No matter how others saw him, no matter the confidence James held, he did not want to be a leader. He did not want others looking to him for answers. He liked himself well enough, but God help him, he didn't want anyone else to become like him.
And yet, against his own wishes, they appointed him. James scowled. How the hell was he to know? He always did his own thing and was praised for it. He pushed the line and was encouraged to break even more rules. He was not a role model for the young first-years; he was not anybody for them to look up to, let them find another idol. Hell, he wouldn't care if they chose Snape.
James sank deeper into a depression that had just settled in. Madame Pomfrey had warned him—apart from blowing uncontrollable raspberries at the word "bloke", there was a possible side effect of a dull, dark state. But James hadn't been prepared for this. It was a dark, lonely feeling that crept and ensnared the mind in a tangible web of blackness; where he was trapped by his own hatred of himself.
He sighed.
Lily had been attacked. It had not been an accident. James was sure of it—having gotten slightly over his irritation at her, he realized that she must simply be hiding what happened. James didn't give a flobberworm's nonexistent ass about what Madame Pomfrey said; Lily got whacked and he knew it.
Right then, James decided. It came with sudden clarity, as though he'd known it all along. It came with a disturbing ease, troubling in that his mind easily accepted this choice; grimly, but without hesitation.
He would kill to stop them.
Now, I know some of you are going to complain about the last bit, but think about it for a second—Lily was attacked and something's up with Remus; they're going after James' friends to get at James himself. Of course he's going to feel bad, even if his anger is directed at the wrong person. Plus, like the story said, James' painkilling potion has a side effect of depression.
Oh yes, something's wrong with Lily. :) Terribly wrong. But you'll just have to read and see for yourselves! I should hopefully have two or three chapters up before I leave this next weekend for Washington. If not, I'm sorry, because from here on out every chapter will probably be a cliffhanger. No throttling, now.
Please review and let me know what you think!
Oh, and by the way—the day I left for camp I got a great idea for my next fic and promptly proceeded to viciously kick myself for forgetting to bring a notebook. No, Zetta, it's not pirates anymore... :) I decided that my plot for that idea was too flimsy and I'm going in a different direction. It should be interesting. :)
