LostConscience: You were my first reviewer for this story, thank you! And yes, I love the awkward tension that Lily and James have to deal with. Thanks for the encouragement.
Telwyn Dubois: I'm not sure yet if this story will be following OotP—depends on whether incorporating that information into my plot will be beneficial to the story or not. And incidentally, never stop writing. Criticism is one thing, but flames that are solely hurtful should not influence your writing at all. Do not listen to such irrationality. And thanks for liking Chapter 1!
Dans-girl-4ever: This story will not wither away! There may be lengthy breaks between chapters—like this past one—but that's just so I can work out each chapter just the way I want it. I appreciate your heartfelt encouragement; words like that really restore my faith in my writing.
ann-boleyn: Thank you, and I understand entirely that you want to get the scope of the story before you say more. Unlike my other story, I'm spending a lot of time in this one working out plot twists and back-stories and evil characters. It should be excellent.
Chantela: Thanks for recognizing what I'm beginning to do with Lily; namely, that I want to make her different from the typical straight-laced and studious girl that she's usually portrayed as. I'm trying to develop her as a very real character. I'm so glad that you noticed.
secludeddark: Ah, the theories begin to emerge… Of course I can't tell you. But you're on the right track; I'm not sure how many people even picked up on the fact that something was not right at the beginning—I tried to keep it very subtle. This will eventually be a very important part of Lily's history.
CandyCaneLane: I'm glad you're reading my other story, but I am on hiatus from The Strangest Courtship for a while. I'm focusing instead on this one, in which the characters and plot will be much more deeply developed. Thanks for reading and I hope that I don't disappoint.
FallenFlower: Thank you for mentioning characterization!—that was one of my primary objectives when I began this story; I want you to really feel like you know Lily after a short while, because I for one can't stay with a story if the characters aren't excellent. If you have suggestions or criticism in the future, don't hesitate to let me know!
Alatariel Linwe Narmolanya: You're such a reliably cheerful reviewer—thanks for another encouraging and complimentary review.
child-of-scorpio: I'm glad you enjoyed it and… I did not update soon, obviously, but despite my busy schedule this year I will be making time to work on this story as much as I can. I hope you like this chapter too.
Also, to the four of you lovelies who reviewed Chapter 2 before I hastily took it down again: Thank you so much for your prompt and kind reviews, but I posted the chapter in a hurry and without reading it over; when I looked back soon after I realized that it was doing nothing to further the characters or the story, and it was really the wrong sort of chapter to come next. So I hope this one is not a disappointment compared to the other Chapter 2.
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CHAPTER TWO
September 1 - 2
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The remainder of the train ride was uneventful, and Lily quickly rejoined Emma for the carriage-ride up to the castle. The sky was bruised and eerily lit; it seemed illuminated by some unseen source, for the sun had long since set, and yet the grounds remained dark as night. The nights have never been normal, Lily realized with an odd thud in her stomach, Not since Voldemort came to power.
After six years of Hogwarts feasts, Lily and Emma knew all of Dumbledore's speeches by heart and had long since mastered the gist of the Sorting Hat's ditties. Having come to the decision that their time was better spent catching up than it was braving the tedium of the Sorting, they broke away from the group and tiptoed off towards the dorms instead of crowding into the Great Hall with the rest of their schoolmates.
"So, who's Head Boy?" Emma asked as they climbed the ancient stone stairs towards Gryffindor Tower.
"James Potter," Lily said inscrutably.
Emma paused in expectation, but Lily did not go on.
"And…?" Emma prompted. When Lily made no move to answer her, Emma put on a serious expression and stroked her chin like Professor Trelawney during dream analyses. "And how do you feel about that, my dear?" she deadpanned, her manner a perfect imitation of the Divination professor.
Lily couldn't help but laugh. "I don't know," she said honestly. "You know, I would have thought that having James Potter—I mean, James Potter, of all people!—as Head Boy would have upset me, but…" Lily shook her head as if to clear it. "I just don't know. I'm sorry—I'm not trying to be mysterious. I haven't figured it out for myself yet."
"Figured what out?" Emma asked in exasperation. "You don't always need to be so cryptic, you know. You can just talk to me."
"I said I don't know," Lily replied, her face suddenly stony.
Emma never knew what to do when Lily became like this; most of the time Lily was easy-going and good-natured, but every once in a while someone would say something that made her close up like a jack-knife, her face suddenly locked and apathetic, devoid of its usual animation. A few times, Emma had tried to push Lily to explain what was wrong, but by now she knew that these moods meant that Lily needed quiet.
Accordingly, Emma didn't say anything more until the girls reached their dorm at the very top of Gryffindor Tower.
"I know we were going to catch up about the summer," Lily began apologetically, "but I'm really tired, Emma. Can we do this tomorrow?"
"Of course," Emma said; she'd known ever since Lily had stiffened on the way up that the girls'-night was out. She didn't mind; both she and Lily had their own peculiarities that were not inexplicable, but far too deeply embedded to explain. Their friendship was strong in part because they understood that not everything can be talked about and that good intentions can't heal all wounds.
Since the war began, nearly everyone had wounds of one kind or another. Some were physical, but far more common and far more painful were the mental or emotional wounds that afflicted too many of the students at Hogwarts. Voldemort's plans had been brewing for half a decade, but for much of that time the threat had only existed in brief though fearsome flashes: a hooded witch with fangs and dilated red eyes, a Ministry official killed mysteriously in the night, piles of gold snatched from the safest Gringotts vaults.
Something was wrong; an uneasy feeling, a dark sea change was swelling in the wizarding community, but Voldemort's plans had only truly surfaced in the middle of Lily's sixth year. The first few weeks of attacks were horrifying and continually shocking, but after a time the students at Hogwarts learned to numb themselves against the atrocities of Elsewhere. A second-year with haunted eyes and uncombed hair was just another victim, another example of how death could destroy the lives even of those who survive. The rising death toll on the front of the Daily Prophet was just a number, just some runes that no one wanted to comprehend.
But the students numbed themselves in different ways; none were able to simply ignore the terrors that raged on outside the safe walls of Hogwarts. Emma thought sometimes that perhaps Lily's silent spells were brought on when her barriers broke down, when the waves of fear and horror built up so much as to slop over her walls, into her heart.
Emma knew that Lily would be shell-shocked for the rest of the night, and so in silence the two girls stepped out of their robes and into their inviting beds, welcoming the solace of sleep.
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But solace did not come to Lily in sleep.
She tossed and turned fitfully in bed; her dreams were filled with nightmares that were founded more in truth and memory than in fearful imagination. She gave up on rest at five, instead focusing her mind on the strange alternate world of Gravity's Rainbow. She could not wait for the sun to rise and bring some reality, some sanity, to her thoughts.
At last the sun did rise, bringing with it a dose of hope and happiness that Lily had felt vacant without all night. Mentally rejuvinated if slightly somber from the shreds of darkness and fear that still clung to her, Lily stood up from bed and stretched her limbs precisely at seven.
"Rise and shine, Emma!" she hollered from the bathroom. Lily had just emerged from the shower refreshed in more ways than one, and she smiled as she brushed her red hair in front of the mirror.
"Eurgh!" was Emma's response; she was not a morning person.
"Sorry about last night," Lily continued. "You know how I get sometimes."
"Everyone gets that way sometimes," Emma corrected. "It's no problem."
"Thanks. Come on; up. I'm hungry."
Emma groaned in agreement, and within ten minutes the two girls had made their way down to the Common Room.
"It's empty!" Emma exclaimed. "What time is it?"
"It's only 7:30, but I guess most people got up early today. First day of classes."
"Hmph. We'll be glad for the extra sleep once we get the homework for our NEWT classes," Emma said. "Speaking of which," she turned curiously at Lily, "how many NEWTs are you taking this year?"
"Um," Lily blushed. "What about you?"
"I'm taking NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts and Arithmancy. Now don't skirt the question."
Lily mumbled something.
"What?" Emma asked, craning her neck towards Lily so she could hear better.
"I'm taking all NEWT classes," Lily said. "It's just, the Ministry's already selective enough about taking on new Aurors, and I'm a girl, and muggleborn. I just really want to impress them."
"Oh Lily," Emma sighed. "You are going to have one hell of a year. All NEWTs?—that's bloody insane. And yet, I'm not very surprised."
"I knew you'd say that."
"But stop worrying so much about your career; the Ministry couldn't possibly turn you down."
"They could. They don't even need to have a reason, they can just reject you flat-out."
"Yeah, if you're not qualified! Lily, you're one of the best students in our class and you're definitely the best in Charms. You could probably get into the Auror program today if you applied."
"You're too optimistic," Lily said, but she was grinning. Emma had a way of cheering her up, and she knew that her friend was speaking in earnest. She just wished…
She wasn't one to shy from a challenge, but it seemed to injust that people like James Potter—smart, granted, but also a smart-aleck and spoiled to death—could glide into any career they chose based on their blood, their money, their sex. Each of these objects was a continual hurdle for Lily to overcome, and she resented it.
So lost was Lily in her reverie that when she looked up she was surprised to find herself standing, with Emma, at the doors of the Great Hall. Her stomach rumbled loudly, pushing aside any thoughts not associated with breakfast.
"My dear," said Emma in a prim voice, pulling open the massive dark wood doors, "be my guest." And with that the two girls stepped into the Hall.
All their senses were assaulted immediately upon their entrance. Smells of eggs and toast and ham and pumpkin juice (how Lily longed for some strong coffee!) roiled thickly through the air. The sounds of chattering and chewing and laughing clashed chaotically; the raucous noises from Gryffindor table collided with the cryptic and conspiratorial sounds of Slytherin. Candles and torches flickered brightly on the tables and along the walls, and the enchanted ceiling-sky above was the color of television tuned to a dead channel, bright and obnoxious.
Lily stopped stock-still. She turned to Emma, who seemed to read her thoughts.
"This," Emma vocalized, "is overwhelmingly exactly how I remember it."
Lily nodded, and a hundred eyes followed the movement of her neck. Hogwarts may not have changed in appearance, but Lily certainly had. The changes were subtle; they were so subtle, in fact, that Lily herself was unaware of any change. She was a couple inches taller; she had gained a little weight, her formerly boyish figure grown narrower at the waist and curvier in other places; her face had lost its baby fat so that her cheekbones and jawline emerged delicate and defined; her hair was longer, glossier, highlighted naturally by the sun; her face had some summer color and a few pale freckles.
Lily may not have noticed the change, but the male population of Hogwarts had.
"Let's sit down," Lily said hurriedly to Emma, noticing the eyes trained in their direction. "I didn't think that being late would garner us so much attention."
Emma sighed to herself, amused at Lily's obliviousness to the real reason for the staring. Better for her not to know, Emma decided. It would just make her self-conscious.
The two girls found empty seats near the end of Gryffindor table and immediately set to work demolishing all the food within the vicinity of their seats; they hadn't had dinner last night, and they sure as hell weren't going to miss another meal.
A few seats down, the Marauders were talking amongst themselves. Ever since Lily sat down, James had been catching glimpses of her red hair through his peripheral vision, and it was taking all his focus not to turn and stare straight at her.
"James—Prongs?" came Sirius's voice from beside James. "Did you hear anything I just said?"
James shook his head no.
"Well then," Sirius continued, "if you could drag your attention away from Lily for one minute—"
"Hey—what?!" James cried defensively. "I wasn't—"
"Sure," said Remus appeasingly. "Fine, sorry James, you were not trying to look at Lily out of the corner of your eye. Now could you please listen?"
"Sorry," James grumbled; with some effort, he turned his full attention to his friends.
"The full moon this month is the 13th," Sirius said in a low voice. "So we have to stay out of trouble for a few days in advance. We don't want to land in detention and we definitely don't want Malfoy keeping track of our whereabouts."
"Right," James replied, but he wasn't really listening. His eyes were trained on the Slytherin table, specifically on Marcus Malfoy.
"Hey man, Sirius just said stay away from Malfoy; why have you got that belligerent look in your eye?" Remus asked warningly. He too looked over towards the Slytherins. "Ah, I see." Malfoy was pointing at Lily and talking conspiratorially amongst his friends; his expression was lustful.
"Bastard," James muttered.
"Don't pick a fight," Peter asked pleadingly. "Not without direct provocation, please."
James's fingers were twitching unconsciously for his wand. "Fine," James replied.
Just then, Malfoy stood up and stretched his lean Quiddich body. He winked at one of his friends before swaggering over to the Gryffindor table. Lily and Emma, still intently devouring their breakfast, were oblivious. James tensed.
Then Lily felt a warm hand on her shoulder and a breath on her temple as Malfoy leaned down to her. "Alright, Lily?" came a rich voice, so deep she could barely discern his words, rolling into her ear. Startled, Lily spun around so quickly in her seat that she knocked over a goblet of pumpkin juice in the process, the orange liquid spilling onto her clean robes.
"Oh, dammit!" Lily cursed, reaching for a napkin. "What the—" she began, turning to face the person who had caught her so off guard. When she saw Malfoy, her voice gained a shred of stoniness, but the anger that had been in it disappeared. "Hello, Marcus."
"Good morning, Lily."
"You really startled me, speaking all of a sudden like that. Sorry, let me just…" Lily indicated the mess of pumpkin juice and paused to wipe at it with her napkin.
"I'm sorry; let me," offered Malfoy in his thick, laden voice. He reached for the napkin, and his hand knocked Lily's. All of her muscles tensed, but she fought to keep her voice light. Gently but firmly, she pushed his hand away.
"No, I'm alright. Thanks for offering, but it's not your responsibility. I'm just clumsy."
Malfoy stared at Lily like he didn't know what to make of her, and she blushed under his gaze; it felt like he was violating her, just from that stare…
"You're not clumsy," Malfoy said after a minute. "You're beautiful. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"
Lily looked at him in astonishment. She fought to keep her revulsion from reaching her expression, but a shadow of it danced in her eyes. "I…I don't think," she stumbled. "I really don't think that maybe that work. I think maybe that wouldn't work, I mean. I mean…no. I'm sorry, Marcus. I just don't have time for a relationship, what with NEWTs this year and all my classes…" Her voice trailed off and she took a bite of toast to distract herself from the mortifying scene that was playing forth.
A lascivious smile crept onto Malfoy's lips. "I didn't say anything about a relationship. It could be a one time thing; you know: Wham, bam, thank you ma'am."
Lily choked on her toast when she caught his insinuations. She stood up abruptly, her knees knocking hard against the table. "You know, I have to change these robes before Transfiguration, so I really have to go. I'm sorry, Marcus."
She made a hasty exit. James shot a glance at his friends and Remus gave a barely perceptible nod. That was all the encouragement James needed; he too leapt from his seat (albeit a bit more gracefully than Lily had) and disappeared out of the Great Hall.
Emma had her hands pressed hard against her temples, her eyes clenched shut in frustration or fury.
Malfoy was already back at the Slytherin table, talking in low voices amongst his classmates.
Sirius looked at Remus and Peter. "What," he said. "The hell. Was that."
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Author's note: When I think about the horrors that Voldemort wreaks and the state of the war in general, I always think of the beginning of Yeats's poem "The Second Coming":
Turning and turning in the widening gyre,The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tides are loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned.
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are filled with passionate intensity.
The fury of it, the chaos and the "passionate intensity" of the Death Eaters—it all strikes a powerful chord with me. Also, I stole a sentence from William Gibson's Neuromancer; can you spot it? As always, please review!