-Chapter 8-
-The Queen's Orders-
Lily was running, panting for breath she struggled to get away from the hooded figure chasing her. She could hear his feet pounding the boardwalk after hers. The pounding stopped, she glanced over her shoulder to the hooded monster riding a broom. She tried to run fast, but her legs seemed to be turning into jelly. Her last resort was the corner of a building approaching. Lily threw herself around the corner, hoping the hooded flyer wouldn't see her gasping in the shadows. Lily pressed her body against the building's damp brick wall and clamped a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't breathe as hard. The figure passed on, calling to her with its high-pitched, raspy voice.
"Lily Evans . . ." Lily waited in the gloom, sweat began to bead her forehead.
"Lily!" The voice's pitch went higher and higher, it was a girl's voice.
"Lily! Come On! Wake up!" It was Margaret Amberson, Lily's best friend since their first year of Hogwarts. Lily jerked awake, gasping for breath in the cold and pitch-dark night that drenched the 6th year Gryffindor Girl's dormitory room.
"Oh, Maggie." Lily began to weep.
"It's okay now." Maggie pulled Lily into a hug, trying to stop Lily's shaking. "Everyone has nightmares. Do you want to tell me about it?"
Lily shook her head; the dream would only trouble Maggie.
"You know I'm here if you need me." Maggie was beginning to head back to her own four-poster bed, but was lingering so Lily would know that she really was here if Lily needed her. Lily nodded, she knew. Lily watched Maggie nod slowly and get back into her bed. Lily waited until she heard Maggie's breath become regular and calm. Lily groped in the darkness for her robe. She found it and pulled it around her cold body. She slipped her feet over the edge of the bed and felt around for her slippers, she felt the soft velvet brush past her ankle. Lily slipped into them and padded over to her windowsill.
This particular window had a breath-taking view of Hogwarts School and its grounds. When Lily sat on the sill she could she entire school, she could also she the slit windows in Dumbledore's office, and either it was dark or glowing from some light within. Tonight. Lily noticed as she slipped onto the cool flagstones, the light was on. It was a small sputtering light, so Dumbledore must have left a candle burning against the frigid darkness.
"That is not very safe," Lily commented absently.
Lily chastised herself for talking when she heard Bertha Jorkins roll over in her bed and mutter something unintelligible. Lily stared out into the fathomless black and purple night. The wind would swirl through the snow and send it skidding over the grounds; Lily believed it reflected the state of confusion her mind was in.
Who was that person chasing her in the nightmare? Lily had never seen anyone dressed quite like that before. Her mind connected what the man was wearing to a picture she had seen in "The Daily Prophet" earlier that week. The man in the picture was blowing up a building, you couldn't see the man's face, but it radiated evil. The caption had said, "A Death Eater caught by film, sadly the photographer was also killed in the blast."
Lily knew Death Eaters were the servants of some insane wizard named Voldemort. At least that was the name that was shouted as his "dark mark" rose into the air over the mangled scene the Death Eaters left behind
Could it have been a Death Eater in her dream?
It was also flying on a broom. Lily searched frantically through her brain for people who flew brooms, maybe even played Quidditch. When the shovel she was digging with hit something resounding and tarnished . . . James flew.
James had only just chased her down earlier this very night. A cold serum slipped through her blood stream chilling her to the very marrow. Lily prayed that her dreams were not warning her against the future . . .
No. James was too loyal. He might go a little loopy with his fellow Marauders, but he could never be a follower of this Voldemort. But if not him, then who? Lily climbed from the window back to her bed, hoping she would dream the nightmare again, and confront her attacker. She waited in the darkness for the troubled sleep to wrench her from consciousness, but it never came. Lily went through a thousand faces of who it could be; her mind would flitter to a certain face and linger there, and then with others she would flitter right by, knowing that person could never be persuaded.
The only reason Lily knew she had slept was when she opened her eyes and dawnlight was pouring through the windows overlooking the school named Hogwarts.
~-~-~-~-~-~
James slowly came back from his exhausted sleep and happiness flooded him. He stretched and rubbed his eyes. It had to be breakfast time; he knew by the way the sun was gushing into the room from the eastward windows of the infirmary.
James reached up with his uninjured hand, wrapped the curtains around the bed, and began to change into the change of clothes placed by Madame Pomfrey's aide at the foot of his bed. James pulled the soot gray sweater over his white button down shirt, and pulled on his fitted black trousers. He knotted his Gryffindor tie around his neck and finally slipped into his robe. James gave his head a few good shakes, and his hair was done.
The feeling hit him then. James Potter was hungry. It is not like it was a bad thing to be hungry, but James hated being hungry. It seemed to him, he could never eat enough. Afraid that if Madame Pomfrey saw him he would be sent back to bed, James slid silently from the infirmary. Once out in the hallway, he began to race down the hallways upsetting kissing couples and tripping over teachers. James ran headlong into the Ravenclaw perfect, Frank Longbottom. The boys were both knocked to the ground, and Frank's face was turning very interesting shades of red.
"J-Jam-James P-Pot-Potter!" he fumbled.
"Sorry Frank," James leapt to his feet and extended a hand to the seventh year boy. "It won't happen again. I'm just a tad bit late for breakfast!"
"Yes. All right. No points will be taken away." Frank stood to his full height of six foot five and gave James a slight grin. "Have you heard what we have to do for the ghost queen that's coming here?"
"No." answered James, very curios.
"Well, before I tell you . . . You have too get Alice Marfunkle to talk to me!" Frank was flashing a huge grin; James could tell Frank wasn't joking either.
"Frank." James stated. "The seventh year Gryffindor girls do not talk to me." He cocked and eyebrow. "But why do you ask?"
Frank turned red, and shook his head, "Never mind. It was just a joke . . . "
James watched Frank continue on his way through the hallways. It was very impressive how he had changed over the summer. James was almost positive that all Frank had to do was grin at the plump and pretty Alice and she would be stalking him . . .
'But no matter,' James thought. 'I guess I could try and set him up with someone.'
But then he heard girly-giggles from the corridor Frank had just turned into. James then decided Frank wouldn't need any help. None at all.
"WOULD ALL STUDENTS PLEASE REPORT TO GREAT HALL AT THIS TIME."
The announcement jolted James back to reality, and his hunger hit him even harder. James flew to the stair and hopped down three at a time. James was caught up in the crowded front hall; all students were trying to fit in the doors as quickly as possible. Which meant that all that was really happening was people getting stuck in the large door.
James sifted through the crowd and took a seat between Sirius and Brett at the large Gryffindor table in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
"Hello Gentlemen!" James greeted cheerily.
"Where in the muggle earth were you last night?" Sirius demanded, putting a look of mock severity on his face.
"Sorry Dad," James mumbled. "I was out partying." James turned his face downward and began to fake sob. "I'll nev-never do it again!"
"I can't believe you would do that to us!" piped in Remus who was sitting on the other side of the table. "You scared us half to death!"
"I'm so sorry Mum!" James blew his nose dramatically on his white linen napkin and began to sob loudly, catching the attention of the nearby Gryffindor students.
"There, there!" Peter reached around the breakfast food to pat James on the shoulder. "I understand why you want to stay out late, but you have a responsibility to this family."
"I won't do it again grandmum. I promise." James placed a hand over his heart and sniffled dramatically. After three heartbeats each boy dropped his head, seeming to be lifeless, and their audience broke into applause. When the applause began to fade, the Marauders came back to life and began to scoff down their breakfast.
The chatting was quieted when Professor Dumbledore stood to his feet. There was a grim look on his face, and the students were all soon hanging upon his every word, afraid it was their family member who had died.
"I have received more news from the ghost Sir Carlos III." He began.
Every student griped tightly to the breathe within their chests and prayed that it was positive news. Dumbledore's face gave away no emotion, nothing for the students to hang on to.
"Sir Carlos III has informed me that the ghost of Queen Anne Boleyn will be arriving on the 31st of October, or more directly, this Halloween." A collective sigh left the Hogwarts attendees lips. "But that does not mean we shall just sit around and wait for this to be over with. The Queen has given the staff of our beloved school some very strict orders on how we should conduct the activities and ourselves on this day. We shall not have a Halloween feast . . ."
The gasp rang through the Great Hall, everyone except for the teachers and prefects were completely shocked. There had always, always, been a feast on Halloween at Hogwarts.
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore quieted the crowd. "There will be instead, a ball."
Eyebrows were raised and giggles broke out at this unexpected addition. Hogwarts had held balls before, during contests and other important times, but never just because someone fancied having a ball when they arrived for a viewing of the castle! Lily began to whisper into Maggie's ear,
"A ball! I wonder what I shall wear!"
"Clothes, hopefully!" Maggie giggled back.
"PLEASE!" the voice echoed through the chamber and bounced through the heads of all present. "I need you all to pay attention for a few more minutes. The Queen also does not want anyone below fifth year to attend." Several angry shouts rang out at this turn. "NOW . . . If you are asked by a fifth year or above . . . I do not see any way to keep you from coming. A special trip will be made this Saturday and Sunday to Hogsmeade for any buying of gowns, hair gel, or jewelry. So I suggest if you plan on asking anyone below fifth year . . .ahem . . . get a move on." Dumbledore grinned and tried to regain control of the situation again.
"Please only a few more minutes! The heads of you houses have been instructed in the EXACT attire you MUST wear. If you are interested please be in your common rooms at eight o'clock on the dot. Thank you."
The noise level could be compared to a raging waterfall, cascading and bumping all over and through everyone's mouths and minds. Sirius immediately began to think of the type of pranks that can be played at a ball, when a bony hand gripped his shoulder.
"It would best not to think of pulling anything, young Mr. Black." Sirius looked up into the face of Professor McGonagall, her mouth in its usual flat line and her brown hair dotted with a gray stand or two commanded into a bun at the nape of her neck.
Sirius threw her his charming smile and sweetly answered, "Yes Professor McGonagall!"
Her icy eyes stared blankly at him and she moved on. Sirius let out an enormous sigh and began to fill the last corners of his stomach with the last of his breakfast. James snorted into his orange juice and spilled it down his chin, quickly catching it before it had a chance to make it down to his neatly laundered clothes. Maggie sniffed onto her toast and tried not to breath it down.
"What?" Sirius demanded.
"Please, it was funny enough!" Remus laughed.
"Yeah," Sirius grumbled. "Just like your Mother's face."
Remus slammed his fork onto he table, startling Lily and Peter. "Repeat that."
Fear welled up inside of James and he reached across the table and gripped Remus's wrist. James shook his head slightly, and Remus's anger left him like a deflated balloon. James knew what this night was, and it was not going to be any better if Remus and Sirius weren't on speaking terms. James left go of Remus's wrist and settled back down. Peter seemed very twitchy and nervous and Lily noticed it.
"Peter, are you all right?"
Peter squeaked, and James quickly covered him, "He has a test in Muggle Studies."
"Oh," Lily breathed, knowing how Peter was always nervous about that particular class. "You do know if you ever need any help, just ask me, ok? I do know first hand how all of that stuff works!" She smiled reassuringly.
Peter weakly smiled and made a comment that he had to be going early to class. They all nodded him off and soon were all making their own excuses from the long Gryffindor table, heading to class. Remus headed back to the common room, sick to his stomach. Secretly he was snapping the neck of the wolf that had bitten him at the age of three . . .
~-~-~-~-~-~
The day passed with no large occurrences, at least Sirius making Professor Flitwick's pants fly around the room was not uncommon. James would simply strip Sirius of his own pants and send them flying around the room, chasing the professor's and the much smaller pair of trousers would fall limply to the floor of the classroom. By that time Professor Flitwick would be cursing and foaming at the mouth, and the students rolling on the floor laughing, clutching their aching sides. All of this was before lunch.
During lunch, the Marauders seemed to calmly be listening instead of trying to entertain. Lily believed it was a smart thing to do, because if they could hear someone talking about their prank from a nearby table, they had succeeded for that day. Remus did not come down for lunch, "Stomach ache." Sirius absently commented when Maggie questioned his absence.
"He sure seems to be sick a lot." Maggie mumbled.
Lunch passed and the three remaining Marauders had indeed heard of the Amazing Flying Flitwick's Pants. It was the beginning of an adrenaline rush that only grew larger as the sun sunk lower in the sky.
(End Chapter 8)
(For the eleven people who have placed me on their faves list.)
-The Queen's Orders-
Lily was running, panting for breath she struggled to get away from the hooded figure chasing her. She could hear his feet pounding the boardwalk after hers. The pounding stopped, she glanced over her shoulder to the hooded monster riding a broom. She tried to run fast, but her legs seemed to be turning into jelly. Her last resort was the corner of a building approaching. Lily threw herself around the corner, hoping the hooded flyer wouldn't see her gasping in the shadows. Lily pressed her body against the building's damp brick wall and clamped a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't breathe as hard. The figure passed on, calling to her with its high-pitched, raspy voice.
"Lily Evans . . ." Lily waited in the gloom, sweat began to bead her forehead.
"Lily!" The voice's pitch went higher and higher, it was a girl's voice.
"Lily! Come On! Wake up!" It was Margaret Amberson, Lily's best friend since their first year of Hogwarts. Lily jerked awake, gasping for breath in the cold and pitch-dark night that drenched the 6th year Gryffindor Girl's dormitory room.
"Oh, Maggie." Lily began to weep.
"It's okay now." Maggie pulled Lily into a hug, trying to stop Lily's shaking. "Everyone has nightmares. Do you want to tell me about it?"
Lily shook her head; the dream would only trouble Maggie.
"You know I'm here if you need me." Maggie was beginning to head back to her own four-poster bed, but was lingering so Lily would know that she really was here if Lily needed her. Lily nodded, she knew. Lily watched Maggie nod slowly and get back into her bed. Lily waited until she heard Maggie's breath become regular and calm. Lily groped in the darkness for her robe. She found it and pulled it around her cold body. She slipped her feet over the edge of the bed and felt around for her slippers, she felt the soft velvet brush past her ankle. Lily slipped into them and padded over to her windowsill.
This particular window had a breath-taking view of Hogwarts School and its grounds. When Lily sat on the sill she could she entire school, she could also she the slit windows in Dumbledore's office, and either it was dark or glowing from some light within. Tonight. Lily noticed as she slipped onto the cool flagstones, the light was on. It was a small sputtering light, so Dumbledore must have left a candle burning against the frigid darkness.
"That is not very safe," Lily commented absently.
Lily chastised herself for talking when she heard Bertha Jorkins roll over in her bed and mutter something unintelligible. Lily stared out into the fathomless black and purple night. The wind would swirl through the snow and send it skidding over the grounds; Lily believed it reflected the state of confusion her mind was in.
Who was that person chasing her in the nightmare? Lily had never seen anyone dressed quite like that before. Her mind connected what the man was wearing to a picture she had seen in "The Daily Prophet" earlier that week. The man in the picture was blowing up a building, you couldn't see the man's face, but it radiated evil. The caption had said, "A Death Eater caught by film, sadly the photographer was also killed in the blast."
Lily knew Death Eaters were the servants of some insane wizard named Voldemort. At least that was the name that was shouted as his "dark mark" rose into the air over the mangled scene the Death Eaters left behind
Could it have been a Death Eater in her dream?
It was also flying on a broom. Lily searched frantically through her brain for people who flew brooms, maybe even played Quidditch. When the shovel she was digging with hit something resounding and tarnished . . . James flew.
James had only just chased her down earlier this very night. A cold serum slipped through her blood stream chilling her to the very marrow. Lily prayed that her dreams were not warning her against the future . . .
No. James was too loyal. He might go a little loopy with his fellow Marauders, but he could never be a follower of this Voldemort. But if not him, then who? Lily climbed from the window back to her bed, hoping she would dream the nightmare again, and confront her attacker. She waited in the darkness for the troubled sleep to wrench her from consciousness, but it never came. Lily went through a thousand faces of who it could be; her mind would flitter to a certain face and linger there, and then with others she would flitter right by, knowing that person could never be persuaded.
The only reason Lily knew she had slept was when she opened her eyes and dawnlight was pouring through the windows overlooking the school named Hogwarts.
~-~-~-~-~-~
James slowly came back from his exhausted sleep and happiness flooded him. He stretched and rubbed his eyes. It had to be breakfast time; he knew by the way the sun was gushing into the room from the eastward windows of the infirmary.
James reached up with his uninjured hand, wrapped the curtains around the bed, and began to change into the change of clothes placed by Madame Pomfrey's aide at the foot of his bed. James pulled the soot gray sweater over his white button down shirt, and pulled on his fitted black trousers. He knotted his Gryffindor tie around his neck and finally slipped into his robe. James gave his head a few good shakes, and his hair was done.
The feeling hit him then. James Potter was hungry. It is not like it was a bad thing to be hungry, but James hated being hungry. It seemed to him, he could never eat enough. Afraid that if Madame Pomfrey saw him he would be sent back to bed, James slid silently from the infirmary. Once out in the hallway, he began to race down the hallways upsetting kissing couples and tripping over teachers. James ran headlong into the Ravenclaw perfect, Frank Longbottom. The boys were both knocked to the ground, and Frank's face was turning very interesting shades of red.
"J-Jam-James P-Pot-Potter!" he fumbled.
"Sorry Frank," James leapt to his feet and extended a hand to the seventh year boy. "It won't happen again. I'm just a tad bit late for breakfast!"
"Yes. All right. No points will be taken away." Frank stood to his full height of six foot five and gave James a slight grin. "Have you heard what we have to do for the ghost queen that's coming here?"
"No." answered James, very curios.
"Well, before I tell you . . . You have too get Alice Marfunkle to talk to me!" Frank was flashing a huge grin; James could tell Frank wasn't joking either.
"Frank." James stated. "The seventh year Gryffindor girls do not talk to me." He cocked and eyebrow. "But why do you ask?"
Frank turned red, and shook his head, "Never mind. It was just a joke . . . "
James watched Frank continue on his way through the hallways. It was very impressive how he had changed over the summer. James was almost positive that all Frank had to do was grin at the plump and pretty Alice and she would be stalking him . . .
'But no matter,' James thought. 'I guess I could try and set him up with someone.'
But then he heard girly-giggles from the corridor Frank had just turned into. James then decided Frank wouldn't need any help. None at all.
"WOULD ALL STUDENTS PLEASE REPORT TO GREAT HALL AT THIS TIME."
The announcement jolted James back to reality, and his hunger hit him even harder. James flew to the stair and hopped down three at a time. James was caught up in the crowded front hall; all students were trying to fit in the doors as quickly as possible. Which meant that all that was really happening was people getting stuck in the large door.
James sifted through the crowd and took a seat between Sirius and Brett at the large Gryffindor table in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
"Hello Gentlemen!" James greeted cheerily.
"Where in the muggle earth were you last night?" Sirius demanded, putting a look of mock severity on his face.
"Sorry Dad," James mumbled. "I was out partying." James turned his face downward and began to fake sob. "I'll nev-never do it again!"
"I can't believe you would do that to us!" piped in Remus who was sitting on the other side of the table. "You scared us half to death!"
"I'm so sorry Mum!" James blew his nose dramatically on his white linen napkin and began to sob loudly, catching the attention of the nearby Gryffindor students.
"There, there!" Peter reached around the breakfast food to pat James on the shoulder. "I understand why you want to stay out late, but you have a responsibility to this family."
"I won't do it again grandmum. I promise." James placed a hand over his heart and sniffled dramatically. After three heartbeats each boy dropped his head, seeming to be lifeless, and their audience broke into applause. When the applause began to fade, the Marauders came back to life and began to scoff down their breakfast.
The chatting was quieted when Professor Dumbledore stood to his feet. There was a grim look on his face, and the students were all soon hanging upon his every word, afraid it was their family member who had died.
"I have received more news from the ghost Sir Carlos III." He began.
Every student griped tightly to the breathe within their chests and prayed that it was positive news. Dumbledore's face gave away no emotion, nothing for the students to hang on to.
"Sir Carlos III has informed me that the ghost of Queen Anne Boleyn will be arriving on the 31st of October, or more directly, this Halloween." A collective sigh left the Hogwarts attendees lips. "But that does not mean we shall just sit around and wait for this to be over with. The Queen has given the staff of our beloved school some very strict orders on how we should conduct the activities and ourselves on this day. We shall not have a Halloween feast . . ."
The gasp rang through the Great Hall, everyone except for the teachers and prefects were completely shocked. There had always, always, been a feast on Halloween at Hogwarts.
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore quieted the crowd. "There will be instead, a ball."
Eyebrows were raised and giggles broke out at this unexpected addition. Hogwarts had held balls before, during contests and other important times, but never just because someone fancied having a ball when they arrived for a viewing of the castle! Lily began to whisper into Maggie's ear,
"A ball! I wonder what I shall wear!"
"Clothes, hopefully!" Maggie giggled back.
"PLEASE!" the voice echoed through the chamber and bounced through the heads of all present. "I need you all to pay attention for a few more minutes. The Queen also does not want anyone below fifth year to attend." Several angry shouts rang out at this turn. "NOW . . . If you are asked by a fifth year or above . . . I do not see any way to keep you from coming. A special trip will be made this Saturday and Sunday to Hogsmeade for any buying of gowns, hair gel, or jewelry. So I suggest if you plan on asking anyone below fifth year . . .ahem . . . get a move on." Dumbledore grinned and tried to regain control of the situation again.
"Please only a few more minutes! The heads of you houses have been instructed in the EXACT attire you MUST wear. If you are interested please be in your common rooms at eight o'clock on the dot. Thank you."
The noise level could be compared to a raging waterfall, cascading and bumping all over and through everyone's mouths and minds. Sirius immediately began to think of the type of pranks that can be played at a ball, when a bony hand gripped his shoulder.
"It would best not to think of pulling anything, young Mr. Black." Sirius looked up into the face of Professor McGonagall, her mouth in its usual flat line and her brown hair dotted with a gray stand or two commanded into a bun at the nape of her neck.
Sirius threw her his charming smile and sweetly answered, "Yes Professor McGonagall!"
Her icy eyes stared blankly at him and she moved on. Sirius let out an enormous sigh and began to fill the last corners of his stomach with the last of his breakfast. James snorted into his orange juice and spilled it down his chin, quickly catching it before it had a chance to make it down to his neatly laundered clothes. Maggie sniffed onto her toast and tried not to breath it down.
"What?" Sirius demanded.
"Please, it was funny enough!" Remus laughed.
"Yeah," Sirius grumbled. "Just like your Mother's face."
Remus slammed his fork onto he table, startling Lily and Peter. "Repeat that."
Fear welled up inside of James and he reached across the table and gripped Remus's wrist. James shook his head slightly, and Remus's anger left him like a deflated balloon. James knew what this night was, and it was not going to be any better if Remus and Sirius weren't on speaking terms. James left go of Remus's wrist and settled back down. Peter seemed very twitchy and nervous and Lily noticed it.
"Peter, are you all right?"
Peter squeaked, and James quickly covered him, "He has a test in Muggle Studies."
"Oh," Lily breathed, knowing how Peter was always nervous about that particular class. "You do know if you ever need any help, just ask me, ok? I do know first hand how all of that stuff works!" She smiled reassuringly.
Peter weakly smiled and made a comment that he had to be going early to class. They all nodded him off and soon were all making their own excuses from the long Gryffindor table, heading to class. Remus headed back to the common room, sick to his stomach. Secretly he was snapping the neck of the wolf that had bitten him at the age of three . . .
~-~-~-~-~-~
The day passed with no large occurrences, at least Sirius making Professor Flitwick's pants fly around the room was not uncommon. James would simply strip Sirius of his own pants and send them flying around the room, chasing the professor's and the much smaller pair of trousers would fall limply to the floor of the classroom. By that time Professor Flitwick would be cursing and foaming at the mouth, and the students rolling on the floor laughing, clutching their aching sides. All of this was before lunch.
During lunch, the Marauders seemed to calmly be listening instead of trying to entertain. Lily believed it was a smart thing to do, because if they could hear someone talking about their prank from a nearby table, they had succeeded for that day. Remus did not come down for lunch, "Stomach ache." Sirius absently commented when Maggie questioned his absence.
"He sure seems to be sick a lot." Maggie mumbled.
Lunch passed and the three remaining Marauders had indeed heard of the Amazing Flying Flitwick's Pants. It was the beginning of an adrenaline rush that only grew larger as the sun sunk lower in the sky.
(End Chapter 8)
(For the eleven people who have placed me on their faves list.)
