Summary: What if Grindelwald had defeated Dumbledore in 1945? What if, as a result of this, the entire wizarding world was segregated and those who weren't pure of blood were seen as second class citizens? What if a witch and wizard fell in love in a world that would never leave them in peace? Would things have turned out so different? Lily/ James
Rating: R. For swearing and some dark and adult themes.
A/N; This fic is not based on, but has been greatly influenced by the novel "Noughts and Crosses" by Malorie Blackman. I've decided to split chapter 3 up into lots of smaller chapters. I think theer easier to read and more people will read them that way. Also means I can update much faster!!!!!!!!!!
Breaking Point
NEWLY APPOINTED MINSTER FOR MAGIC ANNOUNCES PLANS TO INCREASE SEGREGATION IN ALL PUBLIC AREAS
Today, newly appointed minister for magic Tom Riddle , (who took office last week after his predecessor, Cornelius Fudge, died in a freak accident) announced his plans too increase segregation throughout the wizarding community. Plans include having designated living areas for Less Pure (or "Grey") wizards away from main "White" living areas and no shared shops or restaurants. He says that Ex-Minister Fudge left the wizarding community in a "Preposterous state with White and Grey wizards forgetting their place frequently as less and less care was taken to keep them separate," and hopes to revert our society back to the original ways set by "Grindelwald the Great". Sources that shall remain unidentified have notified The Prophet that no witch or wizard with less than six generations of pure wizard blood behind them will be accepted into the ministry. Minister Riddle hopes to, as an eventual goal, restrict the amount of Muggle-born Wizards allowed to learn magic and even aspires to wipe-out contact between the two groups completely.....
Lily stopped still, gaping at the paper in front of her.
She suddenly found it hard to breathe.
"Lils? Lily? Are you alright hun? Say something, you're worrying me..."
But Lily was too stunned to say a word.
.......................................................................................................
It was 8:30 exactly as James reached the entrance to the Transfiguration department and found that Natalie hadn't arrived yet. Trust her to be "fashionably late" he thought, though he didn't really mind. He pulled his large cloak (which obscured his loose fitting jeans and his black long sleeved t-shirt from any prying teachers) around his lean, muscular form and waited. Almost 10 minutes later Natalie arrived, also obscured by a large black cloak, though when she stood facing him he could tell that she was wearing a lot of makeup, and seemed to have straightened her hair.
"Hey" he said. Though he didn't kiss her hello, much to her displeasure. The thing was, now she was actually here James felt quite tempted to say he had an extra Quidditch practise and call the whole thing off. She had given his ego a boost after he'd bin rejected but he couldn't say the prospect of spending an entire evening in her company filled him with joy.
He led her to the statue of the One- eyed witch and into the passage way. As soon as they were both safely out of sight of passers by, they dropped their cloaks eyeing each other approvingly.
She was dressed in a black micro-mini skirt, a skimpy bubblegum pink halter neck, and high heeled pink sandals. He began to feel his male teenage hormones take over. Ok, so maybe the night wouldn't be that bad.
He saw her smile of approval and took that as a sign to take her arm and lead her along the passageway to the Honeydukes cellar. When they finally arrived he helped her up out of the trapdoor and up the stairs into the dark shop. Motioning at her to be quiet he slipped stealthily over to the door, hissed "Alohamora" and led her outside into the night.
The street was dark and completely deserted of any human activity. The only noise was coming from a nearby was that of a fox ripping open a bag of rubbish. She turned and gave him a look as if to say, "What the hell do you think you're playing at?". He grinned mischievously at her, taking her hand and leading her down a myriad of streets into a less well-known part of the village.
He grinned once more as her saw her face light up. The street was teeming with young witches and wizards dressed up for a night out on the town. Several fancy bars and clubs were stationed at intervals up the road, each with an overflowing queue outside it.
"Shall we?" he asked in a mock-gentlemanly voice and offered his arm to her. She laughed, and took it. He led her up to a bar/club near the end of the road. A board outside the club read "EXPECT MINIMUM 2 HOUR WAIT"
"Oh Jamie maybe we should find somewhere else," she simpered still clutching onto his arm with perfectly manicured hands. He wished she wouldn't, it was starting to hurt.
"I don't want to wait that long. It's too cold! I'll get ill! An my shoes will get ruined...."
"Don't you worry you're pretty little head about it. What, did you think I'd make you wait for that long outside on a night like this?"
She giggled and James repressed a cringe. He walked her along the side of the queue so they were near the door,
"Wait here," he whispered and ducked under the barrier, ignoring the angry protests of the witches and wizards at the front of the queue. After a minute or two muttered conference with the bouncer, he ducked back under the barrier,
"It's cool. We can go right in,"
"Oh my god! Like.....how did you do that?"
"I'm James Potter," was his only answer as they passed under the barrier and through the door into the buzzing interior of the club.
...................................................................................................
Lily was storming through the halls, white-hot anger pulsating at her insides. She didn't know where she was going, she was barely aware that her feet were moving at all. Her mind was steaming, unable to process what she had just read, and yet understanding perfectly at the same time.
This was some sick joke. It had to be.
She had spent the day's classes in a robot like daze, hadn't answered a single question and had serious contemplated skipping the last few periods to just runaway and think. Which was saying something about how serious she considered this revelation to be.
She turned a corner and stormed down a staircase she didn't recognise, which was good because her only intention at the moment was too get as far away from everyone and everything as she possibly could.
Suddenly, she stopped, having nearly run headlong into two people. She recognised them as third year Slytherins, though only by face not name. She was wondering why they looked so white-faced and shocked at the sight her, until she caught sight of the painting directly in front of them. She gasped allowed, not believing (or trying her hardest not to) what she saw.
It depicted an old woman holding what was probably once quite a large black cat to her chest. But it had been distorted horribly. The cat's head had swollen to almost 5 times its natural size and there were slashes all over its body. It was obviously in a lot of pain as the woman panicked and fretted over it, tears streaming down her canvass cheeks.
She waved her wand and the cats head returned to It's original state, though there was nothing she could do about the rips running through it's body.
Lily turned towards the two boys. She was beyond anger.
"What on earth do you think you're doing?" she whispered leathally. The two boys did nothing but stare back, white-faced and timid, there only answer being and incomprehensible mutter,
"I SAID WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT? YOU'RE DISTUGTING! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT KIND OF HURT, WHAT KIND OF PAIN YOU'RE PUTTING THESE TWO INNOCENT PEOPLE THROUGH?" she screamed at them, gesturing to the picture furiously, sweat dripping down her redden face.
The two boys looked utterly taken abackthough one of them, with sleek dark brown hair, seemed to regain his composure quite hastily and replied,
"It's only a painting! It's not like we murdered someone,"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S "ONLY A PAINTING"? SO IT CAN'T FEEL PAIN CAN IT? IT CAN'T FEEL HURT?"
She was yelling so loudly she felt her throat would rip apart. But she didn't care.
"Well what use is it to us? No one really cares, Evans. It's just ...."
"YOU'VE RUINED SOMEONES LIFE! DOES THAT NOT MEAN A THING TO YOU , YOU HEARTLESS ...YOU MAKE ME SICK"
"Hang on a minute! You can't talk to me like that!" The dark haired boy said, beginning to frown slightly, "even if you are a prefect"
"I thought I just did," If a mere two days ago someone had told her she'd be quoting James Potter she would have eaten a Blast Ended Skrewt.
"You're well out of order! Bloody hell talk about being het up! But I guess you would sympathise with those who are used to being looked down on wouldn't you Evans?"
That was the last straw.
"300 points from Slytherins, "she hissed in a screaming whisper, "I'm taking this to McGonagoll. And I'm going to do everything within my power to make sure you pair never step foot in this castle again. You mark my words," she turned and walked away, ignoring the indignant protests echoing in the hall behind her.
As soon as she had turned the corner she broke into a run, tearing through the halls, pounding her anger onto the castle floors, running away...far, far away.
But you can ever escape reality.
She collapsed, exhausted, on the balcony of a small stony tower she was unfamiliar with, and let the emotion flow.
Too them it might have been a joke, it was only a painting after all, and would affect them very little. They were just having a bit of fun.
But that cat was the old woman's life. She had nothing else to live for. As trivial as it may seem to some. It was awful ,it was disturbing how someone could sink to that level. And at the mere age of 13. God knows what these people would be like as adults. Who knew the kind of pain and horror they could cause to someone they considered below them.
Like a grey......
Lily felt frustrated tears feel her eyes. All this time. All this fucking time and hard work and dedication she'd put into excelling and what would it amount to? She wasn't a stupid witch. James had said that greys weren't allowed in the same bars and restaurants as whites and that was when the older "over-liberal" minister had been in power. No-one would employ her in the ministry or any other high flying job knowing who she was, where she came from. Heck, they were trying to wipe her "kind" out from the wizarding world altogether. So the most she'd ever amount to would be standing on the side lines and watching someone like Natalie Markwood take a job she knew she could do a hundred times better. She doubted she'd be able to bear it.
But we'll fight she thought there are a lot of us. And even some whites would be on or side. Like James.James....
Her anger towards dissipated in a warm rush. Suddenly him kissing Natalie seemed pathetically trivial. It didn't matter. He was a white, had it good, could lead a worry free, luxurious life full of servants and Quidditch and parties and VIP tickets. He could have it all. And yet he threw it all away in the face of doing what he thought was right. That was what mattered.
She turned a tear stained face toward the pearly crescent moon, feeling as though the world as she knew it was seeping away from her with gathering speed, like trying to keep water it cupped hands. She stood up and leant of the balcony into the night.
She could feel a change in the winds.