Chapter 41 Things That Matter
James hardly noticed the weeks passing after the Quidditch Cup as he tried to come to some sort of decision about his future. But he couldn't decide if he wanted to pursue something he'd always thought he wanted or lead the no doubt more difficult (not to mention shorter) life of an Auror. He'd been quite apprehensive about telling his friends, especially Sirius, about the offer, and Sirius' uncharacteristic standoffishness when James told him the news confirmed his suspicions. Sirius was jealous, and that only made the choice all the more difficult.
But James didn't have a great deal of time to concentrate on his dilemma. NEWTs were now only a week away and they of course had to come first, as he didn't have to make his decision until they were over.
Dorcas had been unexpectedly subdued as well when her initial excitement was over. Lily was a bit worried about her, in fact, and intended to ask Dorcas about it next time she caught her alone. That time came three days before the first NEWT exam when Lily was in the library. She found Dorcas sitting in a back corner, alone in spite of the crowd doing last minute studying.
"All right, Dorcas?" Lily asked, sitting down beside her on the stone floor.
"I guess," Dorcas replied, looking anything but all right.
"What's wrong?" Lily asked. "You seem a bit off."
Dorcas sighed before answering. "I want to play Quidditch – I do – but somehow it just doesn't feel right."
"What do you mean exactly?" Lily wanted to know.
"I mean I thought it'd feel loads better to get what I wanted than it actually does."
"Oh," Lily paused, considering. "Are you sure that playing Quidditch is what you want?" she asked shrewdly after studying Dorcas for a moment.
Dorcas hesitated, fidgeting. "I thought it was when they made the offer. I'd never considered playing Quidditch professionally, not really. I mean, who knew I was good enough? But now that I've had time to think, there's something else I want as well."
"And what's that?" Lily inquired.
"Well," Dorcas shifted uneasily and looked down at her hands before continuing. "My mum and dad always wanted me to be one, and I always expected to, to make them happy, you know – but, well, now that I've actually thought about it seriously – I think I want to become an Auror."
"An Auror?" Lily crinkled her brow momentarily, then smiled. "Well, I can't say it doesn't sound perfect for you."
"You think?" Dorcas smiled shyly.
"Yes, I do think," Lily answered firmly. "Of course, any Ministry job's a challenge, especially that one, but I'd say if anyone could be an Auror, it'd be you. What made you change your mind about Quidditch?"
"Well," Dorcas frowned thoughtfully, searching for words. "All that business with Bellatrix last year, for one – "Dorcas broke off as she and Lily heard the thud of a falling book nearby. Both girls glanced round but didn't see anything unusual.
"You were saying?" Lily prompted a bit uncomfortably.
"Right," Dorcas seemed uncomfortable as well. "So the incident with Bellatrix for one thing, and then I thought about things like all of the attacks, and how little the Ministry can actually do to prevent them, and great wizards like Dumbledore and what would've happened if he hadn't become a professor and Wizengamot member and had just gone off to become a – a professional Gobstones player or something....... Well, it all just makes you remember what's important, doesn't it?"
"It does," Lily agreed. "But that doesn't mean that you can't play Quidditch. You can't let what's happening with Voldemort and the Death Eaters determine your entire life for you."
"I've thought about all of that too," Dorcas replied. "And I want to help to fight them. It's my decision and I don't think I could stand it if I went off to play Quidditch and just ignored it all when I know I might be able to help."
Lily opened her mouth, but before she could reply she and Dorcas heard a shuffling sound. "Let's go," she said instead, smiling at Dorcas.
"Yeah, all right," Dorcas agreed. It was an eerie feeling, the feeling that they were being watched. The two girls made their way out of the library, neither of them glancing back to see the figure that had stepped out from between the rows of shelves.
Bellatrix's timing did indeed demonstrate a flair for the dramatic, Snape reflected irritably. Two days before NEWTs, and here was Bellatrix asking to see him, though nothing could be so critical that it couldn't wait till after exams. Resigning himself, Snape rapped on the door of one of the study rooms. Some unseen person opened the door and Snape stepped warily in to find, to his surprise, not only Bellatrix but Rosier, Wilkes, Rabastan Lestrange, and Regulus Black jammed into the room as well. "What's going on here?" Snape asked sharply, resisting the impulse to draw his wand.
Bellatrix smiled, eyes glittering, as she moved to kiss Snape on the cheek in greeting. "Well, isn't that just the grand bloody Galleon prize question?" She said almost lovingly, a trace of mockery in her eyes as she caressed Snape's cheek.
Snape snatched the hand away. "What ridiculous plot have you concocted this time?" he demanded harshly, nervous.
"Got it in one, poppet," Bellatrix smiled humorlessly, seemingly unperturbed by Snape's coldness. "Except that it's not my plot that's prompted this particular reunion." Bellatrix paused, eyes glittering feverishly. "I've found your spy for you," she proclaimed at last.
Bellatrix had been in the library the evening before looking for a book on Transfiguration. As she'd been perusing the shelves, she'd heard low murmuring nearby. Unable to determine who was speaking or what they were saying, Bellatrix had largely ignored them until she'd caught the sound of her name. An instant later it had registered with Bellatrix whose voice was speaking and she'd dropped her book in surprise.
Afraid momentarily that they'd left, Bellatrix waited till they'd begun talking again before creeping closer to eavesdrop on Evans and Meadows. Meadows had been doing most of the talking, and their voices were so soft that Bellatrix had only been able to catch every fifth word or so, but those few words had been telling enough. Furious, Bellatrix had huddled between the bookshelves and listened with growing rage and horror: "attacks.........Ministry...........prevent........Dumbledore...........Wizengamot......"
"Meadows and Evans were the spies who sabotaged Lestrange's attack," Bellatrix stated flatly, finishing her tale. "They are the ones to blame."
"But the Mudblood didn't say anything," Snape pointed out in what he hoped was a reasonable tone as he fought for control. "And how exactly do you know that the Dark Lord suspected there was a spy, Bellatrix?" he added coolly, watching her intently.
"You quite fancy yourself, don't you, poppet?" Bellatrix smiled patronizingly, amused. "You are not the only one privileged enough to be taken into the Dark Lord's confidence, Severus darling. As for the other matter," Bellatrix's grin widened, a cat that ate the canary, "you've not heard all yet." She looked expectantly toward Regulus, who stepped forward nervously.
"I saw Evans leaving the dungeons that night in a great hurry," Regulus stated, clearly eager to find favour.
"Don't you see, darling?" Bellatrix cut in eagerly, putting an arm round her cousin. "It all fits. We all know that the little Mudblood bitch's boyfriend is able to come and go in our common room as he pleases; he must have taught her. We've found our spies!"
"Don't be a fool, Bellatrix," Snape enunciated slowly in his most withering tone, hiding his panic. "This proves NOTHING. Don't allow your petty schoolgirl grudge against Evans jeopardize the Dark Lord's cause and all of us along with it. This is, I grant you, a lead worth considering, but further investigation is required, CERTAINTY IS REQUIRED."
"'Don't let my grudge cloud my judgement?'" Bellatrix laughed, raising the hackles on Snape's neck. "Surely that's a bit rich coming from you, Severus darling, who blames any and everything possible on James Potter."
Rosier came forward now to stand in front of Snape. "And surely you aren't suggesting, old friend, that any of the people in this room are disloyal in any way?" Rosier's threat was softly spoken, but a threat nonetheless. A low murmur of assent rippled round the room, the others as resentful as Rosier.
"At least ATTEMPT not to be so completely and utterly stupid, Evan," Snape snapped, goaded. "I too serve the Dark Lord; I am merely ensuring that the orders he gave me are carried out properly. Surely YOU aren't suggesting that our lord's orders be ignored?" Snape and Rosier locked glances, each trying to stare the other down, and it was Rosier who glanced away first and moved back into the shadows, face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
"Neatly played, pet," Bellatrix mocked, grinning. "It won't help, though. I don't know what angle you're attempting with this righteous bit, but you're forgetting that you're not the only one here with the, er – stamp – of authority," Bellatix indicated her left forearm ironically, "and I say we've all the proof we need."
Snape inhaled, thinking fast. "I won't let you do this, Bellatrix," he said finally. "I won't allow you to jeopardize the Dark Lord's entire operation for some schoolgirl snit."
"Schoolgirl snit, Severus, darling?" Bellatrix looked vulnerable all of a sudden, and Snape wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a glimmer of hurt in her eyes. "You ought to know better than most what it is between the Mudblood and me. And why should you be so concerned for her welfare anyway?" Bellatrix added, her voice growing passionate. "She's only a Mudblood; if the Dark Lord kills her, what does the reason matter? She. Is. Only. A. Mudblood," Bellatrix enunciated, driving her point home. "Whether she's executed as a spy or merely for being who she is, what does the reason matter?"
"This isn't about bloody Evans, Bellatrix!" Snape exclaimed. "This is about making sure we know who the spy is!" Snape's words echoed round the room, but few seemed convinced, Bellatrix least of all.
"I see," Bellatrix spoke in an odd voice, and Snape wondered if she actually DID see for the first time in her narrow-minded, self-centered existence. "Well, you've made your point, pet, but it's all for naught. As I was telling the others prior to your arrival, I've already sent the owl; the Dark Lord knows by now. Evans and Meadows are dead where they stand. So sorry to disappoint, Severus darling."
NEWTS descended upon the seventh year at long last, bringing an unnatural silence to the castle and causing frenzies of furious studying, late nights, foul tempers, and more than one hysterical outburst. The majority of the seventh year Gryffindors seemed to be weathering the storm tolerably well, though Peter always seemed to be near tears and Alice tended to walk round muttering to herself. The other three Marauders took things more of less in their stride, Morwenna seemed a bit dazed, Dorcas was always missing, and Kathleen fidgeted about nervously.
Lily was in a rather irritable mood most of the time; not a heavy studier herself, she found the constant studying to be a bit taxing on her general goodwill. However, the real reason Lily was irritable was because of her concern for James. Now that Dorcas seemed mostly sorted out, Lily could concentrate her concern on her boyfriend. But James seemed disinclined to talk about what was bothering him. Instead, he was constantly persuading Lily to leave off studying and go and do things with him: walk to the lake, visit the kitchens, go for rides on his broomstick. But never in all the time they spent together did he mention what might be bothering him.
Herbology was the first exam, with the written part in the morning and the practical in the afternoon. The Gryffindors returned to their tower more or less satisfied with the outcome, with the exceptions of Peter, who'd misidentified one of the plants in the essay portion of the exam, and Morwenna, who'd sustained a bite from a biting geranium. Next came Charms, which apparently went quite well for Lily, or so the others inferred when all the examiners gathered round to watch her practical exam and gave her a standing ovation afterward. The following day was Potions, the practical portion of which required the seventh years to stand over boiling cauldrons in an already sweltering classroom, making already nervous tempers rather high, and then came Transfiguration, which earned James and Sirius much praise, causing their already-healthy egos to overinflate, and led to Lily clobbering both of them with her notebook that night in the common room.
Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and History of Magic followed until the seventh years were down to their last exam, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nearly exhausted at this point, most of the Gryffindor seventh years studied for as long as they could before stumbling off to bed for a few exhausted hours' sleep before the last exam.
Tired as the rest of them but restless in spite of it, James kissed Lily good night and pulled on his Invisibility Cloak to go for an after- hours walk through the castle to clear his head.
It was rather thrilling in a way to be doing this without the Marauder's Map, James reflected as he shuffled along. There was loads more risk this way and –
"James?"
James jumped out of his skin and whirled round to find Professor Dumbledore looking in his general vicinity, eyes twinkling with amusement.
Sheepishly, James pulled off the cloak. "You startled me, Professor," he mumbled, embarrassed. "How did you know I was there?"
"I could hear someone moving," Professor Dumbledore replied, "and as there is a limited number of students in possession of an Invisibility Cloak, I merely took a guess."
"Oh," James felt at a loss. "Wait a minute, how did you – er – never mind." James decided he probably didn't want to know how exactly the Headmaster knew about that particular family heirloom.
They walked along in silence for a bit, lost in their own thoughts. "Is something troubling you, James?" Dumbledore asked mildly a good while later.
"No," James replied automatically. "I mean – that is – well, yes, actually," he amended, reconsidering. "Professor, how are you supposed to know what you want to do for the rest of your life anyway?"
Dumbledore smiled at James' phrasing. "Nobody knows what the future will bring, James," he replied cryptically. "All you can do is choose something that matters to you and see what happens."
"Well, these two things I'm considering," James mused, running a hand absently through his hair, "both of them matter to me. A lot. I just – I've always wanted one of them, ever since I was little, and the other – Well, I haven't always wanted it, but – it just SEEMS like I ought to want it more because it – being an Auror – seems so much more important than – " James swallowed, not believing what he was saying "- flying about on some dumb broomstick. Especially now, with Voldemort and everything."
Dumbledore sighed, looking troubled. "James," he said finally, "These are very dark times indeed, but not so dark that you should become an Auror if that isn't what you want to do. You have an extraordinary talent, you would no doubt make an excellent Auror, but James, if you want to play Quidditch, don't believe that it's any less important. Your life is yours to do with as you choose. Voldemort has taken enough lives without taking your choices away as well."
"Yes, sir," James said in a small voice, feeling a rock in the pit of his stomach.
"On the other hand," Dumbledore went on, "for some time in my youth I wanted to be a professional tenpin bowler. It was all I ever wanted to do, and so I took it for granted that because I had always wanted to be a bowler in the past that I continued to want to be a bowler. But when the time came for me to make a decision, I found that bowling didn't have the appeal it had once held, that I wanted to become a professor instead."
"Did you ever regret it?" James asked, still a bit apprehensive.
"I don't regret my choice to become a professor, but I wouldn't be honest if I didn't admit that there are moments of regret, not necessarily for my lost bowling career, but for what might have been," Dumbledore answered, leaving James to wonder which of the things that had happened in Professor Dumbledore's very eventful life had given him cause to have regrets.
"But for now I think it's time for us both to go to bed," Dumbledore broke the silence cheerfully. "Good night, James."
"Good night, Professor," James echoed, lost in his own thoughts once more.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts exam seemed to go on forever to all those who were sitting for it. The lengthy written portion turned the seventh years' brains to jelly, which was very dangerous, considering the practical portion required them to be on the alert. Finally, however, it was over, and the seventh years were free from exams for the last time.
That night after dinner, James and Dorcas made their way back to Professor Dumbledore's office where Crispus Colepepper and Gwenog Jones had come to hear their final decisions.
Butterflies in his stomach, James knocked on the door and, after hearing Dumbledore tell him to enter, made his way nervously into the room.
"James! Dorcas!" Crispus Colepepper exclaimed, beaming at them both warmly extending his hand to Dorcas and James in turn. "Nice to see you both."
Gwenog Jones shook hands with them as well, and, at Dumbledore's suggestion, they all sat down round his desk.
"So let's hear it, then," Gwenog Jones said, looking at Dorcas encouragingly.
"If you've both made your decisions, that is," Colepepper put in hastily, glancing at Jones. He looked relieved when both James and Dorcas nodded their heads.
"What do you say then, James?" Mr. Colepepper prodded expectantly.
"Well," James, who looked a bit green, took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm really grateful for the offer, Mr. Colepepper, really I am, but I'm afraid I can't accept it."
"Can't accept it?!" Colepepper exploded, looking thoroughly scandalized. "But – but – the Wimbourne Wasps – SELECTED you!"
"I'm really sorry, Mr. Colepepper," James repeated gently, "but I won't be joining your team."
"Humph," Gwenog Jones snorted, shooting James a scornful look. "I'm sure your teammate here will be more sensible. Eh, Dorcas?"
Dorcas shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't accept your offer either, Miss Jones. EITHER of your offers," she added hastily, seeing the look on Jones' face.
"But – but – WHY?!" Poor Mr. Colepepper seemed unable to grasp the reality of the situation. "WHY?"
"I've decided that Quidditch isn't the thing that matters most to me," James replied simply. He stood to go. "Thanks again, Mr. Colepepper. Good bye, Miss Jones. See you later, Professor." With that, James turned and made his way to the office door. His knees shook a bit and his head felt curiously light, but James didn't look back, and somehow he didn't think he ever would.
James let himself into the Gryffindor dormitory a couple of hours later, trying to be quiet in case the others were sleeping. James had felt the need to be alone for a bit immediately after the interview, but he now felt ready to face his friends and the world with his decision.
To James' simultaneous relief and dread, Sirius was the only one in the room. While in the past James had always been able to tell his best mate anything, he was a bit apprehensive about this after Sirius' seeming jealousy. Still, James had to start somewhere, and he wanted to practice by telling someone else before he told Lily.
Taking a deep breath, James made his way to his bed and sat down, not looking at Sirius. "Hi," he said finally, bent over to untie his shoes.
"Hi," Sirius replied, setting aside his magazine and looking at James expectantly. "So?"
"So what?" James stalled.
Sirius snorted. "So d'you think Peter should be the next Minister of Magic. So how did the interview go, you wanker!"
"Right," James said, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. "I – er – I sort of told Colepepper I didn't want to accept his offer."
An odd, shuttered expression settled over Sirius' features. "Why did you say that?" he asked carefully.
James gulped. "Because I sort of decided that I want to be an Auror instead."
An earsplitting grin lit Sirius' face and he let out a whoop of joy before tackling James to the floor.
"Glad you're happy," James grumbled good-naturedly, grinning back at Sirius. "If you heard how much money I've just turned down you'd probably be crying."
"Why would I cry? It's your loss, not mine," Sirius retorted flippantly, crawling back onto his bed.
"All jokes aside, do you really think I'm making the right decision or are you just glad because you were jealous that they didn't offer for you?" James asked bluntly, needing to hear it straight from one of the two people whose opinions mattered most to him.
Sirius' eyebrows rose in surprise. "You thought I was jealous of you?"
"Yeah, I did," James admitted candidly. "You didn't say much when I told you about the offer."
"If I didn't say much, it was because I was surprised," Sirius replied, looking James straight in the eye. "Not surprised that they offered for you but surprised because you were considering the offer."
"It's what we always wanted as kids," James defended himself. "We always used to talk about the day when we would play for England together, be the best Beater and Chaser Quidditch has ever seen and have pitches and moves named after us. Why wouldn't I consider? Hell, why wouldn't I accept?"
"Well, I suppose because you've grown up," Sirius replied matter-of- factly. "Sure we used to talk about all those things, but I think we both know that other things matter more." Apparently deciding he'd been serious too long, Sirius adopted a lighter tone. "Besides, now we can be the best Aurors the world has ever seen and have statues in our honor and kids can learn about us in Defense Against the Dark Arts AND History of Magic."
James couldn't help but laugh. "Too right," he said finally. "Who'd make better Aurors than the Marauders anyway? We'll hex Voldemort into the next century and Transfigure him into one of those plastic bag things Lily claims that Muggles wear without breaking a sweat." Sirius and James exchanged a smirk, supremely confident in their own abilities.
"Honestly though, mate," Sirius said several minutes later after they'd finished compiling a list of places statues in their honour could be erected, "When you told me Colepepper was offering you a place with the Wasps, I was glad it was you who had to turn it all down and not me. I'm not sure I could've done it."
"Yeah, that's probably true," James smirked. "Quidditch players are always surrounded by witches, and we both know what a weakness you have for a – er – a pretty face."
"Look who's talking," Sirius snorted. "Speaking of pretty faces, isn't there one you should be sharing the good news with right about now?"
"What an excellent suggestion," James quipped, grinning as he pulled himself to his feet. "I'll see you later, shall I?"
"If you insist," Sirius grinned devilishly. "Tell Lily I send the postman my regards."
Shaking his head, James threw a sock at Sirius' head and hurried downstairs to find Lily.
Author's Note: It's so sad; this is the second to last chapter at Hogwarts! Still, hopefully the "real world" will prove interesting reading for everyone. Thanks, as always, for the reviews; you all know how much I appreciate them. Hope you enjoy!
James hardly noticed the weeks passing after the Quidditch Cup as he tried to come to some sort of decision about his future. But he couldn't decide if he wanted to pursue something he'd always thought he wanted or lead the no doubt more difficult (not to mention shorter) life of an Auror. He'd been quite apprehensive about telling his friends, especially Sirius, about the offer, and Sirius' uncharacteristic standoffishness when James told him the news confirmed his suspicions. Sirius was jealous, and that only made the choice all the more difficult.
But James didn't have a great deal of time to concentrate on his dilemma. NEWTs were now only a week away and they of course had to come first, as he didn't have to make his decision until they were over.
Dorcas had been unexpectedly subdued as well when her initial excitement was over. Lily was a bit worried about her, in fact, and intended to ask Dorcas about it next time she caught her alone. That time came three days before the first NEWT exam when Lily was in the library. She found Dorcas sitting in a back corner, alone in spite of the crowd doing last minute studying.
"All right, Dorcas?" Lily asked, sitting down beside her on the stone floor.
"I guess," Dorcas replied, looking anything but all right.
"What's wrong?" Lily asked. "You seem a bit off."
Dorcas sighed before answering. "I want to play Quidditch – I do – but somehow it just doesn't feel right."
"What do you mean exactly?" Lily wanted to know.
"I mean I thought it'd feel loads better to get what I wanted than it actually does."
"Oh," Lily paused, considering. "Are you sure that playing Quidditch is what you want?" she asked shrewdly after studying Dorcas for a moment.
Dorcas hesitated, fidgeting. "I thought it was when they made the offer. I'd never considered playing Quidditch professionally, not really. I mean, who knew I was good enough? But now that I've had time to think, there's something else I want as well."
"And what's that?" Lily inquired.
"Well," Dorcas shifted uneasily and looked down at her hands before continuing. "My mum and dad always wanted me to be one, and I always expected to, to make them happy, you know – but, well, now that I've actually thought about it seriously – I think I want to become an Auror."
"An Auror?" Lily crinkled her brow momentarily, then smiled. "Well, I can't say it doesn't sound perfect for you."
"You think?" Dorcas smiled shyly.
"Yes, I do think," Lily answered firmly. "Of course, any Ministry job's a challenge, especially that one, but I'd say if anyone could be an Auror, it'd be you. What made you change your mind about Quidditch?"
"Well," Dorcas frowned thoughtfully, searching for words. "All that business with Bellatrix last year, for one – "Dorcas broke off as she and Lily heard the thud of a falling book nearby. Both girls glanced round but didn't see anything unusual.
"You were saying?" Lily prompted a bit uncomfortably.
"Right," Dorcas seemed uncomfortable as well. "So the incident with Bellatrix for one thing, and then I thought about things like all of the attacks, and how little the Ministry can actually do to prevent them, and great wizards like Dumbledore and what would've happened if he hadn't become a professor and Wizengamot member and had just gone off to become a – a professional Gobstones player or something....... Well, it all just makes you remember what's important, doesn't it?"
"It does," Lily agreed. "But that doesn't mean that you can't play Quidditch. You can't let what's happening with Voldemort and the Death Eaters determine your entire life for you."
"I've thought about all of that too," Dorcas replied. "And I want to help to fight them. It's my decision and I don't think I could stand it if I went off to play Quidditch and just ignored it all when I know I might be able to help."
Lily opened her mouth, but before she could reply she and Dorcas heard a shuffling sound. "Let's go," she said instead, smiling at Dorcas.
"Yeah, all right," Dorcas agreed. It was an eerie feeling, the feeling that they were being watched. The two girls made their way out of the library, neither of them glancing back to see the figure that had stepped out from between the rows of shelves.
Bellatrix's timing did indeed demonstrate a flair for the dramatic, Snape reflected irritably. Two days before NEWTs, and here was Bellatrix asking to see him, though nothing could be so critical that it couldn't wait till after exams. Resigning himself, Snape rapped on the door of one of the study rooms. Some unseen person opened the door and Snape stepped warily in to find, to his surprise, not only Bellatrix but Rosier, Wilkes, Rabastan Lestrange, and Regulus Black jammed into the room as well. "What's going on here?" Snape asked sharply, resisting the impulse to draw his wand.
Bellatrix smiled, eyes glittering, as she moved to kiss Snape on the cheek in greeting. "Well, isn't that just the grand bloody Galleon prize question?" She said almost lovingly, a trace of mockery in her eyes as she caressed Snape's cheek.
Snape snatched the hand away. "What ridiculous plot have you concocted this time?" he demanded harshly, nervous.
"Got it in one, poppet," Bellatrix smiled humorlessly, seemingly unperturbed by Snape's coldness. "Except that it's not my plot that's prompted this particular reunion." Bellatrix paused, eyes glittering feverishly. "I've found your spy for you," she proclaimed at last.
Bellatrix had been in the library the evening before looking for a book on Transfiguration. As she'd been perusing the shelves, she'd heard low murmuring nearby. Unable to determine who was speaking or what they were saying, Bellatrix had largely ignored them until she'd caught the sound of her name. An instant later it had registered with Bellatrix whose voice was speaking and she'd dropped her book in surprise.
Afraid momentarily that they'd left, Bellatrix waited till they'd begun talking again before creeping closer to eavesdrop on Evans and Meadows. Meadows had been doing most of the talking, and their voices were so soft that Bellatrix had only been able to catch every fifth word or so, but those few words had been telling enough. Furious, Bellatrix had huddled between the bookshelves and listened with growing rage and horror: "attacks.........Ministry...........prevent........Dumbledore...........Wizengamot......"
"Meadows and Evans were the spies who sabotaged Lestrange's attack," Bellatrix stated flatly, finishing her tale. "They are the ones to blame."
"But the Mudblood didn't say anything," Snape pointed out in what he hoped was a reasonable tone as he fought for control. "And how exactly do you know that the Dark Lord suspected there was a spy, Bellatrix?" he added coolly, watching her intently.
"You quite fancy yourself, don't you, poppet?" Bellatrix smiled patronizingly, amused. "You are not the only one privileged enough to be taken into the Dark Lord's confidence, Severus darling. As for the other matter," Bellatrix's grin widened, a cat that ate the canary, "you've not heard all yet." She looked expectantly toward Regulus, who stepped forward nervously.
"I saw Evans leaving the dungeons that night in a great hurry," Regulus stated, clearly eager to find favour.
"Don't you see, darling?" Bellatrix cut in eagerly, putting an arm round her cousin. "It all fits. We all know that the little Mudblood bitch's boyfriend is able to come and go in our common room as he pleases; he must have taught her. We've found our spies!"
"Don't be a fool, Bellatrix," Snape enunciated slowly in his most withering tone, hiding his panic. "This proves NOTHING. Don't allow your petty schoolgirl grudge against Evans jeopardize the Dark Lord's cause and all of us along with it. This is, I grant you, a lead worth considering, but further investigation is required, CERTAINTY IS REQUIRED."
"'Don't let my grudge cloud my judgement?'" Bellatrix laughed, raising the hackles on Snape's neck. "Surely that's a bit rich coming from you, Severus darling, who blames any and everything possible on James Potter."
Rosier came forward now to stand in front of Snape. "And surely you aren't suggesting, old friend, that any of the people in this room are disloyal in any way?" Rosier's threat was softly spoken, but a threat nonetheless. A low murmur of assent rippled round the room, the others as resentful as Rosier.
"At least ATTEMPT not to be so completely and utterly stupid, Evan," Snape snapped, goaded. "I too serve the Dark Lord; I am merely ensuring that the orders he gave me are carried out properly. Surely YOU aren't suggesting that our lord's orders be ignored?" Snape and Rosier locked glances, each trying to stare the other down, and it was Rosier who glanced away first and moved back into the shadows, face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
"Neatly played, pet," Bellatrix mocked, grinning. "It won't help, though. I don't know what angle you're attempting with this righteous bit, but you're forgetting that you're not the only one here with the, er – stamp – of authority," Bellatix indicated her left forearm ironically, "and I say we've all the proof we need."
Snape inhaled, thinking fast. "I won't let you do this, Bellatrix," he said finally. "I won't allow you to jeopardize the Dark Lord's entire operation for some schoolgirl snit."
"Schoolgirl snit, Severus, darling?" Bellatrix looked vulnerable all of a sudden, and Snape wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a glimmer of hurt in her eyes. "You ought to know better than most what it is between the Mudblood and me. And why should you be so concerned for her welfare anyway?" Bellatrix added, her voice growing passionate. "She's only a Mudblood; if the Dark Lord kills her, what does the reason matter? She. Is. Only. A. Mudblood," Bellatrix enunciated, driving her point home. "Whether she's executed as a spy or merely for being who she is, what does the reason matter?"
"This isn't about bloody Evans, Bellatrix!" Snape exclaimed. "This is about making sure we know who the spy is!" Snape's words echoed round the room, but few seemed convinced, Bellatrix least of all.
"I see," Bellatrix spoke in an odd voice, and Snape wondered if she actually DID see for the first time in her narrow-minded, self-centered existence. "Well, you've made your point, pet, but it's all for naught. As I was telling the others prior to your arrival, I've already sent the owl; the Dark Lord knows by now. Evans and Meadows are dead where they stand. So sorry to disappoint, Severus darling."
NEWTS descended upon the seventh year at long last, bringing an unnatural silence to the castle and causing frenzies of furious studying, late nights, foul tempers, and more than one hysterical outburst. The majority of the seventh year Gryffindors seemed to be weathering the storm tolerably well, though Peter always seemed to be near tears and Alice tended to walk round muttering to herself. The other three Marauders took things more of less in their stride, Morwenna seemed a bit dazed, Dorcas was always missing, and Kathleen fidgeted about nervously.
Lily was in a rather irritable mood most of the time; not a heavy studier herself, she found the constant studying to be a bit taxing on her general goodwill. However, the real reason Lily was irritable was because of her concern for James. Now that Dorcas seemed mostly sorted out, Lily could concentrate her concern on her boyfriend. But James seemed disinclined to talk about what was bothering him. Instead, he was constantly persuading Lily to leave off studying and go and do things with him: walk to the lake, visit the kitchens, go for rides on his broomstick. But never in all the time they spent together did he mention what might be bothering him.
Herbology was the first exam, with the written part in the morning and the practical in the afternoon. The Gryffindors returned to their tower more or less satisfied with the outcome, with the exceptions of Peter, who'd misidentified one of the plants in the essay portion of the exam, and Morwenna, who'd sustained a bite from a biting geranium. Next came Charms, which apparently went quite well for Lily, or so the others inferred when all the examiners gathered round to watch her practical exam and gave her a standing ovation afterward. The following day was Potions, the practical portion of which required the seventh years to stand over boiling cauldrons in an already sweltering classroom, making already nervous tempers rather high, and then came Transfiguration, which earned James and Sirius much praise, causing their already-healthy egos to overinflate, and led to Lily clobbering both of them with her notebook that night in the common room.
Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and History of Magic followed until the seventh years were down to their last exam, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nearly exhausted at this point, most of the Gryffindor seventh years studied for as long as they could before stumbling off to bed for a few exhausted hours' sleep before the last exam.
Tired as the rest of them but restless in spite of it, James kissed Lily good night and pulled on his Invisibility Cloak to go for an after- hours walk through the castle to clear his head.
It was rather thrilling in a way to be doing this without the Marauder's Map, James reflected as he shuffled along. There was loads more risk this way and –
"James?"
James jumped out of his skin and whirled round to find Professor Dumbledore looking in his general vicinity, eyes twinkling with amusement.
Sheepishly, James pulled off the cloak. "You startled me, Professor," he mumbled, embarrassed. "How did you know I was there?"
"I could hear someone moving," Professor Dumbledore replied, "and as there is a limited number of students in possession of an Invisibility Cloak, I merely took a guess."
"Oh," James felt at a loss. "Wait a minute, how did you – er – never mind." James decided he probably didn't want to know how exactly the Headmaster knew about that particular family heirloom.
They walked along in silence for a bit, lost in their own thoughts. "Is something troubling you, James?" Dumbledore asked mildly a good while later.
"No," James replied automatically. "I mean – that is – well, yes, actually," he amended, reconsidering. "Professor, how are you supposed to know what you want to do for the rest of your life anyway?"
Dumbledore smiled at James' phrasing. "Nobody knows what the future will bring, James," he replied cryptically. "All you can do is choose something that matters to you and see what happens."
"Well, these two things I'm considering," James mused, running a hand absently through his hair, "both of them matter to me. A lot. I just – I've always wanted one of them, ever since I was little, and the other – Well, I haven't always wanted it, but – it just SEEMS like I ought to want it more because it – being an Auror – seems so much more important than – " James swallowed, not believing what he was saying "- flying about on some dumb broomstick. Especially now, with Voldemort and everything."
Dumbledore sighed, looking troubled. "James," he said finally, "These are very dark times indeed, but not so dark that you should become an Auror if that isn't what you want to do. You have an extraordinary talent, you would no doubt make an excellent Auror, but James, if you want to play Quidditch, don't believe that it's any less important. Your life is yours to do with as you choose. Voldemort has taken enough lives without taking your choices away as well."
"Yes, sir," James said in a small voice, feeling a rock in the pit of his stomach.
"On the other hand," Dumbledore went on, "for some time in my youth I wanted to be a professional tenpin bowler. It was all I ever wanted to do, and so I took it for granted that because I had always wanted to be a bowler in the past that I continued to want to be a bowler. But when the time came for me to make a decision, I found that bowling didn't have the appeal it had once held, that I wanted to become a professor instead."
"Did you ever regret it?" James asked, still a bit apprehensive.
"I don't regret my choice to become a professor, but I wouldn't be honest if I didn't admit that there are moments of regret, not necessarily for my lost bowling career, but for what might have been," Dumbledore answered, leaving James to wonder which of the things that had happened in Professor Dumbledore's very eventful life had given him cause to have regrets.
"But for now I think it's time for us both to go to bed," Dumbledore broke the silence cheerfully. "Good night, James."
"Good night, Professor," James echoed, lost in his own thoughts once more.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts exam seemed to go on forever to all those who were sitting for it. The lengthy written portion turned the seventh years' brains to jelly, which was very dangerous, considering the practical portion required them to be on the alert. Finally, however, it was over, and the seventh years were free from exams for the last time.
That night after dinner, James and Dorcas made their way back to Professor Dumbledore's office where Crispus Colepepper and Gwenog Jones had come to hear their final decisions.
Butterflies in his stomach, James knocked on the door and, after hearing Dumbledore tell him to enter, made his way nervously into the room.
"James! Dorcas!" Crispus Colepepper exclaimed, beaming at them both warmly extending his hand to Dorcas and James in turn. "Nice to see you both."
Gwenog Jones shook hands with them as well, and, at Dumbledore's suggestion, they all sat down round his desk.
"So let's hear it, then," Gwenog Jones said, looking at Dorcas encouragingly.
"If you've both made your decisions, that is," Colepepper put in hastily, glancing at Jones. He looked relieved when both James and Dorcas nodded their heads.
"What do you say then, James?" Mr. Colepepper prodded expectantly.
"Well," James, who looked a bit green, took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm really grateful for the offer, Mr. Colepepper, really I am, but I'm afraid I can't accept it."
"Can't accept it?!" Colepepper exploded, looking thoroughly scandalized. "But – but – the Wimbourne Wasps – SELECTED you!"
"I'm really sorry, Mr. Colepepper," James repeated gently, "but I won't be joining your team."
"Humph," Gwenog Jones snorted, shooting James a scornful look. "I'm sure your teammate here will be more sensible. Eh, Dorcas?"
Dorcas shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't accept your offer either, Miss Jones. EITHER of your offers," she added hastily, seeing the look on Jones' face.
"But – but – WHY?!" Poor Mr. Colepepper seemed unable to grasp the reality of the situation. "WHY?"
"I've decided that Quidditch isn't the thing that matters most to me," James replied simply. He stood to go. "Thanks again, Mr. Colepepper. Good bye, Miss Jones. See you later, Professor." With that, James turned and made his way to the office door. His knees shook a bit and his head felt curiously light, but James didn't look back, and somehow he didn't think he ever would.
James let himself into the Gryffindor dormitory a couple of hours later, trying to be quiet in case the others were sleeping. James had felt the need to be alone for a bit immediately after the interview, but he now felt ready to face his friends and the world with his decision.
To James' simultaneous relief and dread, Sirius was the only one in the room. While in the past James had always been able to tell his best mate anything, he was a bit apprehensive about this after Sirius' seeming jealousy. Still, James had to start somewhere, and he wanted to practice by telling someone else before he told Lily.
Taking a deep breath, James made his way to his bed and sat down, not looking at Sirius. "Hi," he said finally, bent over to untie his shoes.
"Hi," Sirius replied, setting aside his magazine and looking at James expectantly. "So?"
"So what?" James stalled.
Sirius snorted. "So d'you think Peter should be the next Minister of Magic. So how did the interview go, you wanker!"
"Right," James said, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. "I – er – I sort of told Colepepper I didn't want to accept his offer."
An odd, shuttered expression settled over Sirius' features. "Why did you say that?" he asked carefully.
James gulped. "Because I sort of decided that I want to be an Auror instead."
An earsplitting grin lit Sirius' face and he let out a whoop of joy before tackling James to the floor.
"Glad you're happy," James grumbled good-naturedly, grinning back at Sirius. "If you heard how much money I've just turned down you'd probably be crying."
"Why would I cry? It's your loss, not mine," Sirius retorted flippantly, crawling back onto his bed.
"All jokes aside, do you really think I'm making the right decision or are you just glad because you were jealous that they didn't offer for you?" James asked bluntly, needing to hear it straight from one of the two people whose opinions mattered most to him.
Sirius' eyebrows rose in surprise. "You thought I was jealous of you?"
"Yeah, I did," James admitted candidly. "You didn't say much when I told you about the offer."
"If I didn't say much, it was because I was surprised," Sirius replied, looking James straight in the eye. "Not surprised that they offered for you but surprised because you were considering the offer."
"It's what we always wanted as kids," James defended himself. "We always used to talk about the day when we would play for England together, be the best Beater and Chaser Quidditch has ever seen and have pitches and moves named after us. Why wouldn't I consider? Hell, why wouldn't I accept?"
"Well, I suppose because you've grown up," Sirius replied matter-of- factly. "Sure we used to talk about all those things, but I think we both know that other things matter more." Apparently deciding he'd been serious too long, Sirius adopted a lighter tone. "Besides, now we can be the best Aurors the world has ever seen and have statues in our honor and kids can learn about us in Defense Against the Dark Arts AND History of Magic."
James couldn't help but laugh. "Too right," he said finally. "Who'd make better Aurors than the Marauders anyway? We'll hex Voldemort into the next century and Transfigure him into one of those plastic bag things Lily claims that Muggles wear without breaking a sweat." Sirius and James exchanged a smirk, supremely confident in their own abilities.
"Honestly though, mate," Sirius said several minutes later after they'd finished compiling a list of places statues in their honour could be erected, "When you told me Colepepper was offering you a place with the Wasps, I was glad it was you who had to turn it all down and not me. I'm not sure I could've done it."
"Yeah, that's probably true," James smirked. "Quidditch players are always surrounded by witches, and we both know what a weakness you have for a – er – a pretty face."
"Look who's talking," Sirius snorted. "Speaking of pretty faces, isn't there one you should be sharing the good news with right about now?"
"What an excellent suggestion," James quipped, grinning as he pulled himself to his feet. "I'll see you later, shall I?"
"If you insist," Sirius grinned devilishly. "Tell Lily I send the postman my regards."
Shaking his head, James threw a sock at Sirius' head and hurried downstairs to find Lily.
Author's Note: It's so sad; this is the second to last chapter at Hogwarts! Still, hopefully the "real world" will prove interesting reading for everyone. Thanks, as always, for the reviews; you all know how much I appreciate them. Hope you enjoy!