Also, I'm nearly finished with the next chapter of Illicit Love, for those of you who have been reading that one too. So, hopefully soon I will be able to get all that taken care of. Spring break is on its way, you know! (Yay!!!)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All I've got is this fanfiction, which is not making me any money. So there.
And… This chapter is dedicated to myself. Because I've worked hard to bring you this trilogy, even if it is going slow, and I think I deserve it. Though I'm open to comments unless you think I'm not worthy. :o) I take writing seriously and I kick ass.
PS. Zetta kicks ass too. We are a team, you and I. I don't know what I'd do without you. I know it all sounds cheesy, but you have no idea how much you've helped me through everything – from Fanfiction to Real Life.
***ENJOY!!! Falling into GraceChapter Four
Lightning Crashes
The sun rose bright and early, but she was awake before then. She couldn't quite tell where she was and wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to call out for someone to hold her.
But she was alone.
It was dark and cold. She felt the cloak of the night air wrap around her. A thought reached her mind to panic. He was advancing upon her. It didn't matter so much that she was going to die, since she had no one else in the world.
She had to run, had to be the protector, or else the chance of life giving would be taken away from her.
She ran, endless hallways until her feet were tired, her breathing was painful, her sides ached. But he was always three steps behind. Finally she fell, and turned herself to see her aggressor.
He was laughing and handsome. He didn't want to hurt her, but he had to. He was the root of all the problems and he just wanted all the troubles to stop following him. He had to get rid of her, and he said he was sorry. He kissed her forehead one last time and she cried out.
It was his fault. She shouldn't have to die for it. But he loved her so much that he couldn't let anything worse happen to her. If he couldn't have her, nobody could. But, oh, he ached and burned, yearned for so long.
It wasn't fair. He wanted things that way. He raised his wand. She cried at his feet. He pointed his wand at her heart. Cast his spell. She screamed.
* * *
"Lily!" James said, shaking his lover awake. "Lily, wake up!"
Lily opened her eyes and became aware of her surroundings.
"Lily? Are you all right?" Lily looked at James and took a ragged deep breath. "What were you dreaming about?"
She rolled over onto her side, facing away from James. "I don't know."
"Lily, you've been having a lot of nightmares lately, what's the matter?"
"I don't know."
James tried not to get angry. She did know, she just didn't want to tell him. Maybe she was seeing things too frightening for words.
"Premonitions?" he asked.
"I don't know."
James got up from the bed and pulled on his dressing gown. Lily rolled over and looked at him.
"Where are you going?"
"For a glass of water."
"There's a pitcher in the living room."
"Yes, but I feel like walking a bit," James replied. He was about the leave the room when he thought better of it. "You know you don't have to lie to me. Whatever it is, you're dreaming about, I mean, I can handle it. You can tell me. You used to wake me up in the middle of the night just so I could hold you and tell you everything was all right, but now you're getting distant. Why?"
"I haven't become distant," Lily said.
"No, not exactly. I shouldn't have used that word. But you do know what I mean." He shook his head. "I don't expect you to tell me everything, Lily, but when it involves lying and nightmares and the like, I start to feel like you're keeping something big from me."
"I really don't know what's gotten into me. Sometimes I go wandering at night – I can see myself wandering – but then I wake up here in bed, feeling like I've been in bed all night but my brain's dead tired."
"I haven't noticed you sleep walking."
Lily shook her head. "Just dreams. Just nerves. I mean, for once in my life, I really don't know. I'm nervous about everything – being Head Girl, classes, after Hogwarts, Christmas at your parents' house."
James smiled slightly.
"I can't blame you," he said. "I'm not around a lot anymore. Too much Quidditch and Head Boy stuff, friends and pranking, stuff like that."
"We've just reached a high tide time in our life. Things will be down in a little while, that's all," Lily assured. "I've decided to see Madam Pomfrey in the morning about my dreams. See if she'll give me a bit of that Dreamless Sleep potion. Lord knows it'll make both of us feel better." She smiled at him and his smile grew. "Now, unless you were thinking about traveling all the way to the kitchens for a glass of water, come back to bed."
"I wasn't thirsty anyway," James said. He pulled off his dressing gown and slipped back under the covers. Lily nuzzled into him, taking in his scent of grass and soap. He twiddled a strand of auburn between his fingers.
Lily felt guilty. She hadn't deliberately lied. Hell, it wasn't even exactly a lie. She didn't know what the dreams were meaning, if they meant anything at all. And she didn't know why she was having them. She couldn't think of anything that was so much on her conscience that she was dreaming about horrible things.
She did know, though, that the mixed feelings she was having must have been what was causing the problem, because the stalker in her dreams said it was all her fault – and already in the physical world her emotions had caused a lot of confusion everywhere.
But the strangest thing yet was, the stalker within the depths of dreamland was always none other than Sirius Black.
* * *
Peter was excited by the thought of going to the Potter mansion for Christmas. He had only been there twice, the summer of sixth year and the summer of second year. It was going to be great fun. He and Sirius and James and Remus would be able to have the run of the manor for the whole of Christmas break, even the grounds, which he loved the most.
Going would be great. His mum didn't want him to come home anyway. She did, but she didn't. He didn't know how to explain this to his friends, because they knew he always went home for Christmas. But they didn't know that his Mum was becoming way too protective of him since his father had passed away over the summer while they were in Japan. She kept her eyes on him at all times, never even let him go out of the house without her knowing every move he was going to be making. He knew it was hard for her to have her husband die, especially after Katherine, his baby sister, was born. But she didn't understand that keeping him under wraps all the time wasn't going to be helping either. His father had died from a heart attack, not a Death Eater attack.
He sighed. His mum meant well, he knew – he just couldn't stand it. If she had any tighter of a hold on him, he'd absolutely go mad. Honestly, it was enough that she owled him everyday and made him owl her once a week and if she didn't she would call the Headmaster in a panic. What if she started calling him over the floo box everyday? He'd certainly have to kill himself.
"What are you thinking about, Pete?" Sirius asked.
"Nothing much," he answered. "Just getting lost in thoughts."
"These last two weeks are killing everybody," Remus said.
"Please let Christmas hols come," Lily groaned. "No more classes."
"The weeks can't go by slow enough," James said. Sirius poked his arm.
"You're not getting out of Christmas at your house."
"I know, I know."
"Why do you hate Christmas so?" Peter asked.
"I love Christmas," James replied. After all, that was when he and Lily started dating two years ago. "I love the holiday cheer, the eggnog, the sparkling cider, the roast goose. I just don't like spending Christmas with my parents. I'm not kidding, for eleven years I dreaded Christmas."
"He's not lying," Sirius said. "He once tried to get me to give him a Draught of the Living Dead so he wouldn't have to wake up Christmas morning."
"And I should have taken it," James said sullenly. "You saw what my Aunt Helen got me – fuzzy pink slippers!"
"Would you stop bitching and moaning about Christmas, dammit?" Remus said. "We've got more trouble on our hands with midterm exams."
"True."
Peter looked out the window of the common room. What if he just jumped? he thought. What would happen then? Would people miss him? For the seven years he had been at Hogwarts he hadn't been much notice to anyone, hadn't been extraordinary in anything. Sure, he had James and Sirius and Remus, but they had friends galore outside of the group. And Lily, people were all over her all the time. But for him, no one cared.
Where the hell is all this coming from? he asked himself. Depression had never been there before.
He'd been having all these awful thoughts lately and he just couldn't help it. Maybe he was suffering from a hormonal imbalance. He didn't know. It wasn't like him to be so down. Usually he was happy and carefree. When did all the weights grow on him? he wondered.
He thought of his father.
Maybe that was when – when his father had died and his mother got such a strong hold on him. He wanted to rebel, wanted to rage, wanted to freak out even, but he had to stay calm and strong. He was the man of the house now. Perhaps the inner emotions begging to get out was what made him feel this way. He wasn't going to tell anyone of his strange emotions, though. Not anyone. Not even his best friends.
* * *
Icilyn Garicky lied in her bed in the personal room Dumbledore had given her for the weekend. Her mind couldn't let go of how, well, nice Dumbledore had been to her. She had suspected that he knew and felt sorry for her. But why would that make him feel sorry for me? she wondered. But if anyone else knew, they'd take pity on her too. It wasn't like she knew him, though. She just shared the common gene pool, that was all. He was nothing to her other than the sperm that helped the egg create a fetus.
"I'm doing well in college," she had said to Dumbledore. "But are you afraid people will find out who" – she hesitated slightly, then pushed on – "who my real father is?"
"Ah, so you know about that?" Dumbledore asked, looking slightly taken aback. He seemed almost worried that she knew too much.
"Of course I do," Icilyn had replied. "How could my mother – I mean my aunt – not tell me the truth about my mother."
Dumbledore looked grave. "And did she say anything else?" Icilyn shook her head.
"Only that he killed her, sir. I don't think Mother – er, my aunt – knows why. My father and mother were in love, she said." Dumbledore nodded. There was silence in the room for a moment.
"You know you don't have to make me feel special because of who he is. My father, I mean. I've never even seen him, you know, in real life."
"No, no," Dumbledore said. "That's not why. I think you're the right person for the position. You always did so well in Astronomy and you have wonderful eyesight to see the stars and constellations."
"Thank you, sir. I am honored to have you ask me back to the castle and I look forward to apprenticing." She left the room, glancing over her shoulder at Dumbledore's face. He wasn't hiding his emotions as well as he usually did. There was fear and love and concern.
Just the rising powers of the Dark Side, Icilyn thought as she rolled over in bed. Sirius, who was sleeping beside her, unconsciously pulled her into his arms and enveloped her in warmth. But she did not go to sleep.
Sometimes she took pity on herself – never knowing her mother or father. She had seen pictures, and they both looked so happy. But there were never any pictures of her and her parents. Granted she was only two months old when her mother was killed and her father fled, but wouldn't there be more photographs?
Maybe her father didn't know that she was born. Maybe her mother kept that from him because she knew how he was. And he got angry and killed her.
Did she love him? Did he love her? And how did Dumbledore know, despite the fact that he usually knew everything. This was something that she never talked about – not even to Sirius. She never even wrote anything about it in her journal. So, how could he possibly know who her real father was?
She rolled over again, deciding to see Dumbledore in the morning before she departed back to her college dorm. He had to give her the answers. He knew more than he was telling her, and she was going to stop at nothing to get him to tell her what he knew.
* * *
James sat for the longest time in the Quidditch changing rooms trying to figure out if he was going to be sick or not. This was one of the biggest games of the year, the Christmas game, the beginning of playoffs, and so far, Gryffindor had won every game they had played except for one – the third game they play with Slytherin. And that time the nasty buggers had done some tampering with the quaffle and added another snitch to the game, though that snitch wasn't real – it just disappeared when you caught it – which really frustrated Remus. Now it was the first final game, Gryffindor against Ravenclaw – which would be a tough match but an unlikely loss.
"You okay, Cap?" Emily Watson asked, patting James on his shoulder.
"Yeah," James replied. "Just nerves."
"You, having nerves? I never would have thought. But look at Remus, I think he's about to have a fit."
James looked over at Remus and noted that he was talking to himself. James could hear him recite the familiar game plan that had been shoved into his head for the past two weeks. James smiled. At least he was getting through to someone on the team. Everyone else took him as a joke, but Remus took him a little too serious. All for the better.
"He's fine," James said. "I'm a bit worried about Sirius over there, though."
The two look over at Sirius, who was slicking back his black hair with a comb and staring at himself in the mirror, then waving. No doubt he was practicing his heart-melting look and wave that he heard girls fawned over so much. James suppressed a snort and shook his head.
"Well, what about you? Are you nervous?"
"No, sir," Emily replied military style. When it came to Quidditch, there was no naiveté about her. James liked that. "I'm ready as I'll ever be 'cause I know we will win. Absolutely. For sure."
"That's my girl."
From outside n the Quidditch pitch, Madam Hooch blew her whistle, informing the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor teams to head out to the pitch.
"Ready?" James asked. He received six nods. "Me too." They lined up in their V-form, James at the head, then Sirius and Remus behind him – not because they were his best friends, but because they were the most crucial players on the team (not that everyone wasn't important, but the other players didn't mind). Then came Michelle Ellis and Emily Watson, the other two chasers, and finally Jesse Wilde and Daniel Mottinger, the beaters.
The Ravenclaw team, much as the professional team the Holyhead Harpies, was a team of all witches. It was no surprise as the majority of Ravenclaw house was made up of the female gender. (It proved women were smarter than men, James had mused once.) All women – this would be easy. James had hoped for a challenge.
Lightning crashed in the distance. That certainly changed things. The droplets then started to fall as Madam Hooch and the teams mounted their brooms. It was raining buckets by the time the fifteen broomsticks rose into the air and the quaffle was possessed by a pretty Ravenclaw named Lulu Morris.
James was too quick for Lulu, and he stole the red ball from her. But he wasn't quick enough, obviously, as she cobbed him hard in the ribs. The sheets of rain kept Madam Hooch from seeing the atrocious deed dome by the elbow of the Ravenclaw, but James only held the bright red ball tighter. He hoped Lulu would get what was coming to her for that. Quidditch was not something James Potter took lightly.
He threw the quaffle through the golden hoops on the Ravenclaw side, then turned to check on his teammates. They were a blur in the liquid wall, but so far so good. Then he looked to the Ravenclaw team to see what plans they were playing and saw a black bludger racing towards Lulu Morris's head.
"Duck!" he cried, but the rumble of thunder that coincided with the yell was louder. He could only watch as Lulu was struck on the back of her head and knocked unconscious.
Remus, who had seen this also, got over the shock quicker than James and dove to catch the now-falling Ravenclaw. He caught her and lowered to the ground, where he gently set her on the flooded grass before rising way up again.
The score was 80-70, Gryffindor. When had they made so many goals? he wondered. It didn't matter anyway. Quaffle was in Gryffindor possession, and Emily Watson scored – or was that Michelle Ellis? James couldn't tell because of torrents of rain – both looked the same when wet anyway.
The lightning was closer now, but the game still hadn't been cancelled. James was glad – he was getting his challenge. He took the quaffle into his possession from a Ravenclaw chaser whom he didn't know, and scored another goal for his team.
"100-70," the announcer called. "100-80!" he cried a minute later. When had Ravenclaw scored? James wondered.
On the game raged. Lightning rumbled the stands and the thunder caused many students in the stands to scream and clap their hands over their ears. Why wasn't the game called off?
"Gryffindor seeker Remus Lupin looks as if he's seen the Snitch. He's diving – he's diving – he – doesn't have the Snitch. Must have been a decoy." James flew over to Remus.
"What was that?" he barked.
"She was on my arse, leave me alone," Remus shouted over the rain. "Decoy, James!" And he sped off. He was either crabby from nerves still or the full moon was approaching and James hadn't realized. Or, like any animal, he didn't like to be wet.
Five goals were made by Gryffindor and seven were made by the Ravenclaws – that put them at a tie: 150-150. James was starting to feel a little tense. Remus assured him it was all okay, and that his eyes were still sharp even in the rain. But then Ravenclaw scored two more goals.
"And it looks as if Gryffindor Seeker Lupin is going in for another dive – yes it does – and HE'S GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS 300-170!"
The Gryffidor team sped towards Remus to congratulate him and take their victory lap. Remus was in the front for the victory lap and James was taking up the rear, the five other players were in between. As James turned the east corner to finish the second lap and take a third, a crack of thunder screamed and the lightning bolt that coincided with it hit the tail of James's Quidditch broom.
And he fell down, down, down... But no one on the team was aware that James was falling until James nearly hit the ground, and it was too late, and James fell on the ground a few yards away from Lulu Morris, both completely unconscious, though James was in a worse state than the Ravenclaw.
The crowd yelped as they heard the whip-crack of several of James's bones snap. Both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams descended to the ground to help James, and several students pushed and shoved their way down the stairs to see if the Gryffindor captain was still alive.
Only Lily Evans sat at the top of the stands, her knees pulled into her chest, looking horrid. She was drenched from the rain, but she didn't care. It was the least she deserved. I should be struck by lightning too, she thought. She felt completely awful. Why – how – could she do this? How was she able to do what she just did. She nearly cost her boyfriend's life for something as stupid as a challenge. But it was what he wanted. And somehow, she gave it to him.
"Lily, let's go, love," Sirius said. He took her hand, and nearly jumped at the spark he felt. Lily did jump. It wasn't a real spark of course, but more like, Lily knew, how they portray romantic touches in books and films. An emotional and romantic spark.
Lily grabbed Sirius's hand and stood. Her legs wouldn't work, and she fell forward onto Sirius and started sobbing. Sirius wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair.
"He's going to be all right, Lils," he said softly.
She looked back up at him, slowly started to inch closer towards his face, her lips coming dangerously closer to his.
No! Sirius thought. This is not what you want, not what you want, not what you want…
But it was very obvious that it was what he wanted as he himself inched forward…
"No!" he yelled aloud this time. Lily looked startled.
"No what, Sirius?" she asked. She was a foot away from him now. Did she move that fast or was his imagination running away with him?
"Uh, I just had a picture in my mind's eyes of a house-elf in a two-piece Union Jack swimsuit. Very disturbing, that was." Lily knitted her eyebrows.
"A house-elf in a bikini that looks like the English flag? Whatever you've been snorting is working a little overtime. We've got a friend to visit in the hospital wing. I know he's fine – just in a little pain, and he can't wait to see us."
Lily started walking down the spiraling stairs grasping the wooden handrail for fear of slipping and from a surge of adrenalin. That was so close, she thought. This was going to come back and bite them both in the arse if they didn't stop. More levelly, if he didn't stop thinking about her and she didn't stop reading his thoughts.
Once they were in the hospital wing, Lily stood by James's bed and held his hands while Madam Pomfrey dressed the wounds and tried to mend the bones. Only she and Sirius were in the room, along with Lulu Morris, who was still knocked unconscious but had a white bandage wrapped around her head.
Dinnertime rolled around and James still hadn't awoke. Sirius volunteered to bring a large tray of food up for Lily, James, and Lulu (if the latter two ever woke up).
Fifteen minutes after Sirius left, James awoke. He looked around the room, trying to figure out where he was, then realized he didn't have his glasses on. But, from all the pain he was in, he could tell he must be in the hospital wing. And there was a blurry figure sitting to his left with a distinct shade of dark red atop of the head, and knew that was Lily.
"Lils, could you get me my glasses?" he whispered hoarsely. Lily took his glasses off the side table and placed them gently on James's face, as his nose was broken and he had a black eye. "Thank you."
Lily was silent for a moment, tears streaming out of her eyes.
"Honey, I'm okay. Just a little sore. I imagine that I broke at least four bones."
"Fifteen," Lily said. "Or more. I stopped counting after that." She started sobbing. It was she who needed to be the strong one at the moment, but she couldn't be; not when it was her fault that he was in here in the first place. He would never forgive her. This was the worst thing she had ever done to anybody. And this was her boyfriend.
"Lily, love, I'm fine. Everything's okay – truly." James looked at her beautiful face streaked with tears and the rest of her body soaked from the rain.
"No," Lily said quietly, trying to control her voice. "Everything's not okay." She swiped at her eyes. "I'm so sorry, James. I didn't mean to, honestly. I'm sorry I made you fall off your broom. It's all my fault." She dissolved into another wave of tears.
"Lily, you're not the reason I'm here. I was narrowly struck by lightning," James said. He wished he could hold her to comfort her, but he couldn't even move his arm to pat her damp head. She looked at James, fear in her eyes.
"I – I made it rain, James," she whispered. "It's all my fault you got struck by lightning."
* * *
