Chapter Nine: Spring's Warmth
Even the altruistic soul has an aspect of selfishness that no man of ordinary circumstance can every wholly contemplate. It is secret to even the most lavish heart just how inhumane our race has become, for it is key to our destiny.
Lily's room was a godly place, very pretty, very elegant. She couldn't quite place the spirituality of the room to any particular memory, nor could she remember ever feeling such purity, such innocence, as the room offered in its simplicity, but she knew it in herself, and if she did not know it, she understood it. It was in her bones, not quite coating her sadness, but giving her a light to her dark, a balance. She felt less like herself and more as she wished to be. She felt like the girl who lost her virginity to a priest, and yet she felt a sanctity within her that was surprisingly forceful. She understood its ramifications, its power, but did not quite comprehend its derivation. She felt as if she was real. She felt as if she could take on the entire world and still come out unscathed. She felt as if she was alive.
The past faded away around her until all that was left was her and the room, her and divinity.
Blinking in her emotions, she studied the room in silence. It was a classic room in its candid appearance, but certainly was not plain in its elegance. White surrounded her, enticing her with its righteousness. Light wood tantalized the room with a decadent flair. Her bed sat in the corner, golden white, drawing her in, ready to envelope her in sleep, taking away her pain, her bitterness, her cold.
Warm sheets took her in, barely allowing her to miss the white tiger lily sleeping upon the left pillow.
Her sleep was soundless, beautiful. She did not wake until the hours fell upon her with deep twilight. She woke alone, half cold. She disguised her pain quickly with a pretty jade robe. Its satiny feel made her feel so beautiful, so much less like herself. It gave her a lie to hide her soul.
She twirled herself into a presentable condition, perfecting her make-up and hair in a girly fashion of paranoia. She had never had a mother to giggle with, or trust with secrets. She had never expected herself to need one. She fancied herself to be a tortured artist, thriving for solitude. But she had no art. Her fanciful life was not at all her reality, and her needs in her fantasy were far from similar to her true life. She needed stability, love. She needed friends. She needed hope.
James is going to kiss you Easter night.
In the end, she needed Potter. Of course, she'd never admit it to him. In all the withering comments of their past, of all the caring glances she knew he cast her way, in all his cocky grins, in all her sadness, in his big hazel eyes, she had lost all her will to be loved by James Potter.
Their history was not altogether unlike the interaction between oil and water. She was cold, harsh, seemingly very real water. And he was slick, smooth, pretentious oil. They never had mixed. The never could. But if she changed, if she was no longer water, if she was no longer icy and bitter and sad, would they? Would Lily find her comfort in James' arms? Could she?
She didn't want to believe her thoughts. Sexy as he was, James was not her match. But he'd kiss her anyway. That much she was positively sure of. And then she'd kiss him back. It was really all too simple. But nothing could truly be simple when merged with Lily Evans.
She stumbled down into the main room, the suffocating one in which she had first been introduced to the Potter Manor. But no life existed. And so she found herself trailing through the halls, half lost, half filled with an insatiable curiosity. Rooms passed, each holding a very different aura. And then the Potters appeared, each sated with an intense form of joy.
And so it came to Lily that joy could be seen but not felt in her coldness. Like oil and water, she thought.
James' eyes finally met hers, after ages of a burning torture that she couldn't quite explain. It felt as if her heart had just broken and she didn't know why. His eyes were drowning in warmth. She just didn't understand. She couldn't.
"Lily, there you are," he said so quietly, as if he were only speaking to himself. He clenched his hands, then unclenched them, his eyes never leaving hers, and then he broke their gaze. "I almost woke you up, but you looked so," he paused, so painfully obvious in his lack of confidence in his wording. "Peaceful." He finished.
She gave him a curt nod, and squinted her eyes in gratitude, hoping he'd understand. Of course, it didn't matter if he took her apology. It wasn't as if he could chuck her of his house onto the cold ground, bruising her. He wasn't likely to, at least. He gave her a warmer nod of understanding in return and a small smile.
"Lily, this is my family." He told her, spreading his arms out to show just who 'this' was. "My mom, dad, and you know Muri." He spared a grin Lily's way. "She and I had a little talk. She says that if you're not going to suck her blood, then she won't run away again."
She placed a large, plastered smile, coated with gloss, upon her lips, sweeping the floor with her robe as she glided forward. She reached out to shake Mr. Potter's large hand. "How do you do?"
"Fine," he said with a smile as he shook his wayward ash blonde hair from his glasses that covered his big green-brown eyes. He seemed so much like James. Almost too much.
Mrs. Potter sat daintily looking on with a knowing smile upon her lips and her stormy eyes half on James. She looked so lovely in a way Lily only wished to be. Her raven hair brushed back and forth, so gorgeous.
"It's so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for allowing me to be here." Lily whispered to the darkly mysterious woman.
She gave her a warm smile, pulling herself weightlessly from the couch and pulling Lily into a lady-like hug, then kissed each of her cheeks, than said in such a pretty voice, "No, darling, it's my pleasure. James has never brought home a girl before, and certainly not such a pretty one." She took Lily's cold hands in her warm ones pulling herself away, eyeing her in a way that gave Lily the distinct impression that James' mother was quite possibly part hawk. "Let me get a better look at you, darling. Ooh," she squealed. "You're gorgeous! That hair, those eyes! I was such an ugly child, wasn't I, Alec?"
Mr. Potter refused to answer, only allowing himself to raise a goblet of pumpkin juice to his lips, tilt his head to the side, and give his wife a smiling look through his wire-frame glasses.
"You're very sweet, thank you." Lily told her.
"My James says you are top of your class with him. Smart and beautiful. That is a terribly dangerous combination, dear." She shot James a sharp look, and dropped Lily's hands. "But, oh, son, I believe you have done well."
Lily gave her what must have seemed like a very odd look. "I'm not his girlfriend."
"Of course not," Mrs. Potter said, her tone nonchalant, and a small smile playing on her lips. Her smile turned warmer, and she clutched Lily's hands once more, a bit of energy ran between them, and the woman smile even brighter. "Where are my manners?" she exclaimed. "I'm Brenna of Fae-"
"Stop deluding yourself, mum!" James teased.
"Brenna Fae Potter." She corrected herself. "And my husband, "she gestured towards her husband. "Alec Potter. I suppose you've met Muriel already? Yes, you have. Well, then, I must be off to make dinner," she paused with a small at her husband. "For once, darling. I promise not to burn it." She gave Lily's hands another small squeeze and dropped them, turning on her heel and squealing loudly. "Oh, I love cooking!" Her noir pumps clicked effortlessly away.
The room began to clear, Muri shooting Lily a look of suspicion and then running to catch up with her mother. Then James' father left, giving Lily an appraising smile before scooping up a copy of The Daily Prophet and heading in the opposite direction, surprising her by waving his wand at the eastern wall and then walking through it. And then it was only James and Lily.
"So," Lily began.
"So," he said. "I'm," he paused seeming slightly disgruntled. "I'm sorry about earlier."
"Yeah, I was a bitch, wasn't I?"
James cocked his head in a sorry sort of way, not agreeing, not disagreeing, not apologizing again. He held his head high in it's awkward tilt, but Lily knew what he was saying. 'Yeah, but I was worse.'
Lily let her head nod up, and then down, and then the slow silence fell. Quietness surrounded her, leading Lily to take a step forward.
James is going to kiss you, James is going to kiss you, James is going to kiss you, James is going to kiss you, she pressed herself into his chest. Not quite a hug, but personal, too personal for Lily. She stepped away, without dignity and the silence finally broke.
"I like your mother."
"So do I."
"She really loves you."
"So do I."
Lily shook her head, with a grin she did not at all like. "Well, she thinks I'm beautiful, gorgeous actually,"
"So do I."
Her eyes met his in a classic moment of vulnerable helplessness before she looked away. He gave her a quiet nod, drawing her into his arms, but he looked so sad, so sad in a way she couldn't understand. Why did he look so heartbroken, as if the world was cracking beneath him, and he could cry a thousand rivers of tears, and still not have cried enough? He was the boy who could do anything, wasn't he? He was to be Minister of Magic, for god's sake. Somewhere along the line, he had become everything to her, and she didn't really mind because he was the boy who kept her real. And it was then that she knew, only then that she finally understood that she had fallen in love with him. Fallen in love, words she never thought were real, only fairy tale words for the imagination, like god, and heaven. And yet she had fallen in love with the only boy she had ever hated, the only boy she knew was perfect.
"James-"
He shook his head. "Don't speak, love," he told her, gently bringing her chin up with knowing fingers. His other hand brushed back a stray piece of auburn hair that shone red in the firelight. There was depth in those fingers, a passion, a beauty she'd always known was there but never had the audacity to name. He leaned in, closer, closer, his lips were so, so close, his breath was on her face, mint and cinnamon, so powerful, so James.
"James," she repeated, but if he heard her, he didn't let on because his lips were on hers. So soft, so soft she wasn't sure they really were there. Life vanished into a lifeless black hole, and all that was left was Lily, and James, and eternity. And then he took her hand and led her away.
The Potter family was perfect to the naked eye. The children were well loved, the parents loved each other. Debate did not exist in the house. James and Muri had never, ever fought in the past nine years. Alec and Brenna had not fought in James' seventeen years. The house was their protection from all evil. The war did not effect them. The Potters were untouchable. Lily did not understand; she had never been loved, but just seeing something she had never fully believed in was oh, so refreshing. It was in the Potter Mansion that Lily Evans finally felt loved.
She woke late that night in the arms of James Potter. Mind you, she was fully clothed, but she could feel his bare chest against her body, radiating warmth, radiating reality. It was so cold on the bare, wooden floor of her room, but he made that inconsequential. She fell back into him, and he moaned. He was so warm, so good, so wonderful, so perfect. He was her only friend. He was her only enemy. He was her James.
"Who are you, James?" she whispered into the night. But she knew it didn't matter who he was because she loved him, and he made her warm.
And yet he was supposed to kiss her on Easter night. This was all wrong. She had gone through the image a thousand times already in her head. Darkness was surrounding them, no stars in the sky, she was him and he was her, and passion echoed through all of her being. A kiss to rival all kisses, her first kiss. But even that wasn't right, for she had been kissed before. Alex. He took away her soul. And James. He gave her back substance. But she wanted more. She wanted perfection.
It did not even come to mind that James, her James, was the epitome of perfection.
"Why are you so sad?" his voice asked her, so quiet in the darkness. "Why are you so sad, Lily?
"Why does the light bow down to darkness?" she asked in her reply slightly breathless with shock. But he had struck a sharp note in her that few had struck before. 'Why are you so sad?' It was a reasonable question. But it didn't matter. Here she was, surrounded by purity, surrounded by James, and he wanted to know why she could not feel, could not be. It did not matter, and yet mattered more than all the world, all at once. Just like her reply.
He cocked his head as if in disbelief. But he shook it away, and continued calmly. "But it doesn't, Lily. Not really. Light bows down to darkness only because darkness fears even the slightest sliver of light."
While that was all very true, Lily couldn't help but feel there was much below the surface of his answer.
"What happened to us, James? We used to be so much more."
James supplied her with a light chuckle, and drew her closer into his arms, adjusting himself against the bed's edge into more of a sitting position. His shoulders, however, slumped slightly in defeat. He took her face in his hands, once again, and kissed her lightly on each eye, right and left, and then her lips. "We're more than you know."
She shook her head. Oh, how he did not understand! They were happy once. Now, though, even in her own little haven of divinity, she could feel her sadness deep inside her, threatening her eyes to tear. "We were friends, do you remember. It was so long ago, before Hogwarts. Years have passed, but I know it's still there. It was only one day, but that day was so wonderful. Do you not remember. I was so mad when you deserted me on the train." She shook her head and gave him a small smile. "But boys'll be boys, and damn them when they do."
James laughed. "You're a bitter old hag, you know?"
She spared him a small nod, and leaned further into him, closing her eyes and welcoming sleep. And what a peaceful sleep it was.
"Well, Brenna," Lily began to say early Sunday morning, two days after her arrival. "It's really isn't always quite that restricting. My own mother never let me be in two feet of a non-Catholic as child. I never really minded until I came to Hogwarts. But that's ancient history now."
Brenna smiled widely and squinted her eyes, just like James would have. "Isn't hat the truth, darling." She busied herself with the eggs on the stove, waving her wand here and there. Plates flew in beautiful circles around Lily, and Brenna stepped back behind a big, black camera on a large tri-pod. "Smile, Lil!" she said through her girlish giggles, and when Lily did smile, it was beautiful. A bright blue light flashed through the wonderfully decorated kitchen.
"Tell me, darling," Brenna asked as she circled her camera to adjust its position. "are you close with your mother now?"
"Oh, no, not really. She isn't the kind of woman one can talk to. She has the most absurd notions about religion involving teenagers. She thinks they should all be isolated from the entire world, locked up in their houses. Then they'll never have sex, or do drugs, or do anything. Gods, I'm glad I'm at Hogwarts for the year. My sister, however, wasn't so lucky. She hates me for it. She's nineteen now, an adult in the eyes of society for three years, in the eyes of the law for a year alone. For six years, she was locked in our house, studying chemistry and history and maths. Her fiancé in a good catholic man. Supposedly." Lily clenched her eyes shut, furiously wiping away the tears that were forming. She couldn't do this. She couldn't cry. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I shouldn't be laying my troubles on you. I'm lucky. I got out."
"Yes," Brenna said, sweeping Lily into her arms. "Yes, you did. Just not soon enough. But these are all life lessons that will help you in the years to come. They will strengthen you, and give you truth that no one else will have. In the mean time," she shot Lily a kind, rather conspiratorial smile. "I will be your mother. And Muriel will be your sister. Isn't that right, Muri?" she asked the small, fatigued girl over her shoulder as Muri made her way down the stairs. Brenna tapped her temple with a secretive smile. "Mother knows all."
Muri gave a little nod of her head, and then James bounded down after her, scooping the girl into his arms.
"What's this we're talking of?"
"Amos Diggory," Brenna said, not missing a beat.
James gave a groan.
"What?" she asked. "I see nothing wrong with Amos. He's quite good looking." She paused and then pointed at Lily. "Just like his father. That man was-"
"Mum," James interrupted. "Pleeeeeassse, spare me the girl talk."
Brenna Potter continued on, undaunted "-was as handsome as they come. Mmm, he was a good kisser too."
Lily's eyes tried desperately to find James', but he refused to look up from the pumpkin juice he was pouring into a small, silver goblet. So she looked back at Brenna, faintly blushing.
"Let me tell you something about love, Lily." Brenna said, obviously not having missed the Lily's glance at her son. "Once you find it never let go. But first make sure he can kiss. That's the telling factor. If a man can't kiss, he's not worth your time. But then, if I'd have married Amos, I wouldn't have my James." She gave James a sloppy kiss on the side of his forehead. "I wouldn't go on without my James."
"Mum!" James gasped, spilling pumpkin juice down his robes. Grabbing his wand, he uttered a cleansing spell. Nothing happened. He tried the spell again. "Damn," Nothing happened this time either. James Potter looked positively dumbfounded.
Brenna chuckled, and took away the stick. "It's a fake James. You can't get in trouble with it this time. No more magic out of school! The ministry is getting stricter by the day. Soon they'll be expelling students who do magic outside of Hogwarts. Once you pass the exam, you can use your wand. Until then, absolutely not."
"But, mum-"
"Don't 'but mum' me, James. And watch your mouth around your sister."
Lily giggled until James shot her a deathly glare. Only then did Lily laugh harder. She certainly was used to being ordered around by her mother, but watching James be told what to do, and seeing him actually listen, was very different. It was quite hilarious, actually.
"Yes, mum,"
"Good," Brenna said, giving her wand a sharp jerk leading all the plates to crash onto the table, food and all. Another blue flash washed through the kitchen from the camera. Brenna swore under her breath, and began to inspect it for any malfunction.
"Has daddy left already?" Muri asked, sitting down at the end of the table, as far as possible from Lily.
"Yes, dear, before I even woke. And it's Easter too. I don't understand who those Ministry men think they are, not allowing families to be together on Easter. But those attacks keep getting more frequent, so quite obviously there are more Death Eaters joining Voldemort's cause. I suppose they need all the men they have, and more by the day."
Lily and James sat down, side by side.
"Death Eaters?" Lily asked. "That term is foreign to me."
James' tone was deeply serious when he spoke, and Lily could sense a deeply underlying sadness through it. "Voldemort's henchmen, his disciples, per ce. Horrible men, they are. They kill for the sake of killing. They torture the innocent, and hate all Muggles. Just like Voldemort."
"I'd always thought Voldemort worked alone, powerful, but stoppable."
"No," James said. "Bloody ministry is censoring the papers. You probably don't know a thing about the war, not anything real anyway, Lily. Voldemort's got a whole army of his own, trolls, giants, werewolves, vampires, men, all the foulest of creatures. No one knows anything. I don't even know that much. Only the aurors know the whole truth. Only the aurors are brave enough to fight. And then Dumbledore. I want to be an auror."
"As Minister, you'll outdo even the aurors." said Brenna.
"Do you really think for one minute that it is the Minister of Magic controlling the aurors? The aurors know all. And they are the ones that must bare the burden. Like Alastor Moody, Mad-Eye that is, do you think he would tell just anyone all the ways to stop a man trying to kill you. No! Brilliant as he is, he'll never get over being held at wandpoint by wizards and witches whose only intent is to kill him. There are things he will never tell a soul, not even the Minister of Magic. So excuse me if I don't think I can do a goddamn thing as Minister that I couldn't do as an auror." James paused. "C'mon, Lily. We'll be back later mum."
"So you want to be an auror." Lily said quietly. It was more or a statement than a question. "You never told me that."
"I never told anyone that."
"Really now," she said with a smile. "Then we're making progress.
"With what?"
"With whatever it was that led you to kiss me last night."
He gave her a sad smile, and sat down on a bench in the middle of Diagon Alley. "I'm sorry about that."
"Why?"
"I dunno,"
She paused, brushing her hair from her eyes. "You were sad last night. Why?"
He shrugged his shoulders, and then reached deep into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. "Need one?" he asked as he pulled out one for himself. He caught her gaze.
"Don't smoke," she implored almost silently.
He shot her another glance that said so little, and yet it asked so much of her. 'Why?' But she couldn't come up with a reason. There was a warmness settling in her bones that she had never before known. It was so very distracting.
"Because I care now."
A/N: I'm sorry it's been such a long time. The next chapter should be out soon, that one being the end of part one. PLEASE REVIEW!
Even the altruistic soul has an aspect of selfishness that no man of ordinary circumstance can every wholly contemplate. It is secret to even the most lavish heart just how inhumane our race has become, for it is key to our destiny.
Lily's room was a godly place, very pretty, very elegant. She couldn't quite place the spirituality of the room to any particular memory, nor could she remember ever feeling such purity, such innocence, as the room offered in its simplicity, but she knew it in herself, and if she did not know it, she understood it. It was in her bones, not quite coating her sadness, but giving her a light to her dark, a balance. She felt less like herself and more as she wished to be. She felt like the girl who lost her virginity to a priest, and yet she felt a sanctity within her that was surprisingly forceful. She understood its ramifications, its power, but did not quite comprehend its derivation. She felt as if she was real. She felt as if she could take on the entire world and still come out unscathed. She felt as if she was alive.
The past faded away around her until all that was left was her and the room, her and divinity.
Blinking in her emotions, she studied the room in silence. It was a classic room in its candid appearance, but certainly was not plain in its elegance. White surrounded her, enticing her with its righteousness. Light wood tantalized the room with a decadent flair. Her bed sat in the corner, golden white, drawing her in, ready to envelope her in sleep, taking away her pain, her bitterness, her cold.
Warm sheets took her in, barely allowing her to miss the white tiger lily sleeping upon the left pillow.
Her sleep was soundless, beautiful. She did not wake until the hours fell upon her with deep twilight. She woke alone, half cold. She disguised her pain quickly with a pretty jade robe. Its satiny feel made her feel so beautiful, so much less like herself. It gave her a lie to hide her soul.
She twirled herself into a presentable condition, perfecting her make-up and hair in a girly fashion of paranoia. She had never had a mother to giggle with, or trust with secrets. She had never expected herself to need one. She fancied herself to be a tortured artist, thriving for solitude. But she had no art. Her fanciful life was not at all her reality, and her needs in her fantasy were far from similar to her true life. She needed stability, love. She needed friends. She needed hope.
James is going to kiss you Easter night.
In the end, she needed Potter. Of course, she'd never admit it to him. In all the withering comments of their past, of all the caring glances she knew he cast her way, in all his cocky grins, in all her sadness, in his big hazel eyes, she had lost all her will to be loved by James Potter.
Their history was not altogether unlike the interaction between oil and water. She was cold, harsh, seemingly very real water. And he was slick, smooth, pretentious oil. They never had mixed. The never could. But if she changed, if she was no longer water, if she was no longer icy and bitter and sad, would they? Would Lily find her comfort in James' arms? Could she?
She didn't want to believe her thoughts. Sexy as he was, James was not her match. But he'd kiss her anyway. That much she was positively sure of. And then she'd kiss him back. It was really all too simple. But nothing could truly be simple when merged with Lily Evans.
She stumbled down into the main room, the suffocating one in which she had first been introduced to the Potter Manor. But no life existed. And so she found herself trailing through the halls, half lost, half filled with an insatiable curiosity. Rooms passed, each holding a very different aura. And then the Potters appeared, each sated with an intense form of joy.
And so it came to Lily that joy could be seen but not felt in her coldness. Like oil and water, she thought.
James' eyes finally met hers, after ages of a burning torture that she couldn't quite explain. It felt as if her heart had just broken and she didn't know why. His eyes were drowning in warmth. She just didn't understand. She couldn't.
"Lily, there you are," he said so quietly, as if he were only speaking to himself. He clenched his hands, then unclenched them, his eyes never leaving hers, and then he broke their gaze. "I almost woke you up, but you looked so," he paused, so painfully obvious in his lack of confidence in his wording. "Peaceful." He finished.
She gave him a curt nod, and squinted her eyes in gratitude, hoping he'd understand. Of course, it didn't matter if he took her apology. It wasn't as if he could chuck her of his house onto the cold ground, bruising her. He wasn't likely to, at least. He gave her a warmer nod of understanding in return and a small smile.
"Lily, this is my family." He told her, spreading his arms out to show just who 'this' was. "My mom, dad, and you know Muri." He spared a grin Lily's way. "She and I had a little talk. She says that if you're not going to suck her blood, then she won't run away again."
She placed a large, plastered smile, coated with gloss, upon her lips, sweeping the floor with her robe as she glided forward. She reached out to shake Mr. Potter's large hand. "How do you do?"
"Fine," he said with a smile as he shook his wayward ash blonde hair from his glasses that covered his big green-brown eyes. He seemed so much like James. Almost too much.
Mrs. Potter sat daintily looking on with a knowing smile upon her lips and her stormy eyes half on James. She looked so lovely in a way Lily only wished to be. Her raven hair brushed back and forth, so gorgeous.
"It's so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for allowing me to be here." Lily whispered to the darkly mysterious woman.
She gave her a warm smile, pulling herself weightlessly from the couch and pulling Lily into a lady-like hug, then kissed each of her cheeks, than said in such a pretty voice, "No, darling, it's my pleasure. James has never brought home a girl before, and certainly not such a pretty one." She took Lily's cold hands in her warm ones pulling herself away, eyeing her in a way that gave Lily the distinct impression that James' mother was quite possibly part hawk. "Let me get a better look at you, darling. Ooh," she squealed. "You're gorgeous! That hair, those eyes! I was such an ugly child, wasn't I, Alec?"
Mr. Potter refused to answer, only allowing himself to raise a goblet of pumpkin juice to his lips, tilt his head to the side, and give his wife a smiling look through his wire-frame glasses.
"You're very sweet, thank you." Lily told her.
"My James says you are top of your class with him. Smart and beautiful. That is a terribly dangerous combination, dear." She shot James a sharp look, and dropped Lily's hands. "But, oh, son, I believe you have done well."
Lily gave her what must have seemed like a very odd look. "I'm not his girlfriend."
"Of course not," Mrs. Potter said, her tone nonchalant, and a small smile playing on her lips. Her smile turned warmer, and she clutched Lily's hands once more, a bit of energy ran between them, and the woman smile even brighter. "Where are my manners?" she exclaimed. "I'm Brenna of Fae-"
"Stop deluding yourself, mum!" James teased.
"Brenna Fae Potter." She corrected herself. "And my husband, "she gestured towards her husband. "Alec Potter. I suppose you've met Muriel already? Yes, you have. Well, then, I must be off to make dinner," she paused with a small at her husband. "For once, darling. I promise not to burn it." She gave Lily's hands another small squeeze and dropped them, turning on her heel and squealing loudly. "Oh, I love cooking!" Her noir pumps clicked effortlessly away.
The room began to clear, Muri shooting Lily a look of suspicion and then running to catch up with her mother. Then James' father left, giving Lily an appraising smile before scooping up a copy of The Daily Prophet and heading in the opposite direction, surprising her by waving his wand at the eastern wall and then walking through it. And then it was only James and Lily.
"So," Lily began.
"So," he said. "I'm," he paused seeming slightly disgruntled. "I'm sorry about earlier."
"Yeah, I was a bitch, wasn't I?"
James cocked his head in a sorry sort of way, not agreeing, not disagreeing, not apologizing again. He held his head high in it's awkward tilt, but Lily knew what he was saying. 'Yeah, but I was worse.'
Lily let her head nod up, and then down, and then the slow silence fell. Quietness surrounded her, leading Lily to take a step forward.
James is going to kiss you, James is going to kiss you, James is going to kiss you, James is going to kiss you, she pressed herself into his chest. Not quite a hug, but personal, too personal for Lily. She stepped away, without dignity and the silence finally broke.
"I like your mother."
"So do I."
"She really loves you."
"So do I."
Lily shook her head, with a grin she did not at all like. "Well, she thinks I'm beautiful, gorgeous actually,"
"So do I."
Her eyes met his in a classic moment of vulnerable helplessness before she looked away. He gave her a quiet nod, drawing her into his arms, but he looked so sad, so sad in a way she couldn't understand. Why did he look so heartbroken, as if the world was cracking beneath him, and he could cry a thousand rivers of tears, and still not have cried enough? He was the boy who could do anything, wasn't he? He was to be Minister of Magic, for god's sake. Somewhere along the line, he had become everything to her, and she didn't really mind because he was the boy who kept her real. And it was then that she knew, only then that she finally understood that she had fallen in love with him. Fallen in love, words she never thought were real, only fairy tale words for the imagination, like god, and heaven. And yet she had fallen in love with the only boy she had ever hated, the only boy she knew was perfect.
"James-"
He shook his head. "Don't speak, love," he told her, gently bringing her chin up with knowing fingers. His other hand brushed back a stray piece of auburn hair that shone red in the firelight. There was depth in those fingers, a passion, a beauty she'd always known was there but never had the audacity to name. He leaned in, closer, closer, his lips were so, so close, his breath was on her face, mint and cinnamon, so powerful, so James.
"James," she repeated, but if he heard her, he didn't let on because his lips were on hers. So soft, so soft she wasn't sure they really were there. Life vanished into a lifeless black hole, and all that was left was Lily, and James, and eternity. And then he took her hand and led her away.
The Potter family was perfect to the naked eye. The children were well loved, the parents loved each other. Debate did not exist in the house. James and Muri had never, ever fought in the past nine years. Alec and Brenna had not fought in James' seventeen years. The house was their protection from all evil. The war did not effect them. The Potters were untouchable. Lily did not understand; she had never been loved, but just seeing something she had never fully believed in was oh, so refreshing. It was in the Potter Mansion that Lily Evans finally felt loved.
She woke late that night in the arms of James Potter. Mind you, she was fully clothed, but she could feel his bare chest against her body, radiating warmth, radiating reality. It was so cold on the bare, wooden floor of her room, but he made that inconsequential. She fell back into him, and he moaned. He was so warm, so good, so wonderful, so perfect. He was her only friend. He was her only enemy. He was her James.
"Who are you, James?" she whispered into the night. But she knew it didn't matter who he was because she loved him, and he made her warm.
And yet he was supposed to kiss her on Easter night. This was all wrong. She had gone through the image a thousand times already in her head. Darkness was surrounding them, no stars in the sky, she was him and he was her, and passion echoed through all of her being. A kiss to rival all kisses, her first kiss. But even that wasn't right, for she had been kissed before. Alex. He took away her soul. And James. He gave her back substance. But she wanted more. She wanted perfection.
It did not even come to mind that James, her James, was the epitome of perfection.
"Why are you so sad?" his voice asked her, so quiet in the darkness. "Why are you so sad, Lily?
"Why does the light bow down to darkness?" she asked in her reply slightly breathless with shock. But he had struck a sharp note in her that few had struck before. 'Why are you so sad?' It was a reasonable question. But it didn't matter. Here she was, surrounded by purity, surrounded by James, and he wanted to know why she could not feel, could not be. It did not matter, and yet mattered more than all the world, all at once. Just like her reply.
He cocked his head as if in disbelief. But he shook it away, and continued calmly. "But it doesn't, Lily. Not really. Light bows down to darkness only because darkness fears even the slightest sliver of light."
While that was all very true, Lily couldn't help but feel there was much below the surface of his answer.
"What happened to us, James? We used to be so much more."
James supplied her with a light chuckle, and drew her closer into his arms, adjusting himself against the bed's edge into more of a sitting position. His shoulders, however, slumped slightly in defeat. He took her face in his hands, once again, and kissed her lightly on each eye, right and left, and then her lips. "We're more than you know."
She shook her head. Oh, how he did not understand! They were happy once. Now, though, even in her own little haven of divinity, she could feel her sadness deep inside her, threatening her eyes to tear. "We were friends, do you remember. It was so long ago, before Hogwarts. Years have passed, but I know it's still there. It was only one day, but that day was so wonderful. Do you not remember. I was so mad when you deserted me on the train." She shook her head and gave him a small smile. "But boys'll be boys, and damn them when they do."
James laughed. "You're a bitter old hag, you know?"
She spared him a small nod, and leaned further into him, closing her eyes and welcoming sleep. And what a peaceful sleep it was.
"Well, Brenna," Lily began to say early Sunday morning, two days after her arrival. "It's really isn't always quite that restricting. My own mother never let me be in two feet of a non-Catholic as child. I never really minded until I came to Hogwarts. But that's ancient history now."
Brenna smiled widely and squinted her eyes, just like James would have. "Isn't hat the truth, darling." She busied herself with the eggs on the stove, waving her wand here and there. Plates flew in beautiful circles around Lily, and Brenna stepped back behind a big, black camera on a large tri-pod. "Smile, Lil!" she said through her girlish giggles, and when Lily did smile, it was beautiful. A bright blue light flashed through the wonderfully decorated kitchen.
"Tell me, darling," Brenna asked as she circled her camera to adjust its position. "are you close with your mother now?"
"Oh, no, not really. She isn't the kind of woman one can talk to. She has the most absurd notions about religion involving teenagers. She thinks they should all be isolated from the entire world, locked up in their houses. Then they'll never have sex, or do drugs, or do anything. Gods, I'm glad I'm at Hogwarts for the year. My sister, however, wasn't so lucky. She hates me for it. She's nineteen now, an adult in the eyes of society for three years, in the eyes of the law for a year alone. For six years, she was locked in our house, studying chemistry and history and maths. Her fiancé in a good catholic man. Supposedly." Lily clenched her eyes shut, furiously wiping away the tears that were forming. She couldn't do this. She couldn't cry. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I shouldn't be laying my troubles on you. I'm lucky. I got out."
"Yes," Brenna said, sweeping Lily into her arms. "Yes, you did. Just not soon enough. But these are all life lessons that will help you in the years to come. They will strengthen you, and give you truth that no one else will have. In the mean time," she shot Lily a kind, rather conspiratorial smile. "I will be your mother. And Muriel will be your sister. Isn't that right, Muri?" she asked the small, fatigued girl over her shoulder as Muri made her way down the stairs. Brenna tapped her temple with a secretive smile. "Mother knows all."
Muri gave a little nod of her head, and then James bounded down after her, scooping the girl into his arms.
"What's this we're talking of?"
"Amos Diggory," Brenna said, not missing a beat.
James gave a groan.
"What?" she asked. "I see nothing wrong with Amos. He's quite good looking." She paused and then pointed at Lily. "Just like his father. That man was-"
"Mum," James interrupted. "Pleeeeeassse, spare me the girl talk."
Brenna Potter continued on, undaunted "-was as handsome as they come. Mmm, he was a good kisser too."
Lily's eyes tried desperately to find James', but he refused to look up from the pumpkin juice he was pouring into a small, silver goblet. So she looked back at Brenna, faintly blushing.
"Let me tell you something about love, Lily." Brenna said, obviously not having missed the Lily's glance at her son. "Once you find it never let go. But first make sure he can kiss. That's the telling factor. If a man can't kiss, he's not worth your time. But then, if I'd have married Amos, I wouldn't have my James." She gave James a sloppy kiss on the side of his forehead. "I wouldn't go on without my James."
"Mum!" James gasped, spilling pumpkin juice down his robes. Grabbing his wand, he uttered a cleansing spell. Nothing happened. He tried the spell again. "Damn," Nothing happened this time either. James Potter looked positively dumbfounded.
Brenna chuckled, and took away the stick. "It's a fake James. You can't get in trouble with it this time. No more magic out of school! The ministry is getting stricter by the day. Soon they'll be expelling students who do magic outside of Hogwarts. Once you pass the exam, you can use your wand. Until then, absolutely not."
"But, mum-"
"Don't 'but mum' me, James. And watch your mouth around your sister."
Lily giggled until James shot her a deathly glare. Only then did Lily laugh harder. She certainly was used to being ordered around by her mother, but watching James be told what to do, and seeing him actually listen, was very different. It was quite hilarious, actually.
"Yes, mum,"
"Good," Brenna said, giving her wand a sharp jerk leading all the plates to crash onto the table, food and all. Another blue flash washed through the kitchen from the camera. Brenna swore under her breath, and began to inspect it for any malfunction.
"Has daddy left already?" Muri asked, sitting down at the end of the table, as far as possible from Lily.
"Yes, dear, before I even woke. And it's Easter too. I don't understand who those Ministry men think they are, not allowing families to be together on Easter. But those attacks keep getting more frequent, so quite obviously there are more Death Eaters joining Voldemort's cause. I suppose they need all the men they have, and more by the day."
Lily and James sat down, side by side.
"Death Eaters?" Lily asked. "That term is foreign to me."
James' tone was deeply serious when he spoke, and Lily could sense a deeply underlying sadness through it. "Voldemort's henchmen, his disciples, per ce. Horrible men, they are. They kill for the sake of killing. They torture the innocent, and hate all Muggles. Just like Voldemort."
"I'd always thought Voldemort worked alone, powerful, but stoppable."
"No," James said. "Bloody ministry is censoring the papers. You probably don't know a thing about the war, not anything real anyway, Lily. Voldemort's got a whole army of his own, trolls, giants, werewolves, vampires, men, all the foulest of creatures. No one knows anything. I don't even know that much. Only the aurors know the whole truth. Only the aurors are brave enough to fight. And then Dumbledore. I want to be an auror."
"As Minister, you'll outdo even the aurors." said Brenna.
"Do you really think for one minute that it is the Minister of Magic controlling the aurors? The aurors know all. And they are the ones that must bare the burden. Like Alastor Moody, Mad-Eye that is, do you think he would tell just anyone all the ways to stop a man trying to kill you. No! Brilliant as he is, he'll never get over being held at wandpoint by wizards and witches whose only intent is to kill him. There are things he will never tell a soul, not even the Minister of Magic. So excuse me if I don't think I can do a goddamn thing as Minister that I couldn't do as an auror." James paused. "C'mon, Lily. We'll be back later mum."
"So you want to be an auror." Lily said quietly. It was more or a statement than a question. "You never told me that."
"I never told anyone that."
"Really now," she said with a smile. "Then we're making progress.
"With what?"
"With whatever it was that led you to kiss me last night."
He gave her a sad smile, and sat down on a bench in the middle of Diagon Alley. "I'm sorry about that."
"Why?"
"I dunno,"
She paused, brushing her hair from her eyes. "You were sad last night. Why?"
He shrugged his shoulders, and then reached deep into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. "Need one?" he asked as he pulled out one for himself. He caught her gaze.
"Don't smoke," she implored almost silently.
He shot her another glance that said so little, and yet it asked so much of her. 'Why?' But she couldn't come up with a reason. There was a warmness settling in her bones that she had never before known. It was so very distracting.
"Because I care now."
A/N: I'm sorry it's been such a long time. The next chapter should be out soon, that one being the end of part one. PLEASE REVIEW!