The Mourning After:
Last Update: January 25th, 2005.
This Chapter update: February 12th, 2005.
I think I might like this chapter. A first for me. LoL. Love ya lots, said Meha.
The three investigators were just packing up, ready to leave the scene, when Lily came back from her morning walk (she didn't want to be around when a bunch of strange men searched through and analyzed every corner of her mother's possessions in her mother's bedroom—which the investigators referred to as "the Crime Scene").
Her father had just stood on the sidelines supervising. Lily knew he didn't follow the men into the room; she knew he just stood by the door's frame, never venturing an inch further.
When she stepped in the house, her father's was the first face Lily saw.
Richard Evans looked like—well, a man who had recently lost his wife. This stupid investigation only added lemon juice to the wounds, but as Lily was told, it is procedure, Miss. It has to be done.
With awkward glances and sorry day-time smiles, the inspectors brushed past Lily and left, leaving her to stare at her ashen-grey faced father.
"Dad?" Lily dropped her coat on the floor absent-mindedly. Without a word, her father went into the kitchen and Lily followed. He was already sitting down at the table.
Then he stood up.
And sat down again.
Lily poured him some 3-hour old coffee into a mug and placed it in front of him when he made no motion to take it from her. "What did the inspectors say?" Lily asked. She sat down. "Dad?"
Her father looked so confused. He looked like he was registering whatever the three men had told him.
Finally he said, "They told me—um, there's reason to belie…" That was the third time today he ended his sentence in the middle of a word.
"Dad," Lily spoke kind of shortly. "You're not making sense."
He looked like he would fall to pieces right there. "They talked to the coroner. It was murder." He choked on the word. "She was…Rose was murdered." They were nearly sure it couldn't have been health-related. Rose had been in the prime of her life, and always energetic, with no known hereditary illnesses. They thought it had to be something else entirely, but the word Murder was never fully formed in their minds.
Lily thought he was going to cry again. She thought she might, too.
"Not just random murder," he went on. "Th-they say it might've been someone she knew."
"Who could mom have known that would do this?" Lily whispered.
"Whoever it was," her father looked at the coffee in front of him seeming to notice it for the first time. He looked back up just to the right of Lily. She was used to him not looking straight at her lately. "Whoever it was, they left a—a mark. The inspectors found it on the back of a family picture's frame, I think. It was a drawing, or something."
"Of what?"
"A skull. With a snake for a tongue."
"Amee-liaaaaa," her mother called up from the bottom of the Gellars' staircase. "You're friends are here!"
Amelia was just putting her dark locks into a ponytail when Linda and Sirius broke into the room. "You're lucky I'm decent," Amelia joked.
Linda looked in the mirror Amelia was looking into and replied with, "No, you're lucky. We wouldn't have knocked anyway." She picked up a pair of earrings on Amelia's vanity, put it up to her ears, and checked her reflection in the mirror. She approved. "Sirius is taking me to Trafulgar Square, and we were wondering if you'd like to tag along."
"Why are you going to Trafulgar Square?"
"To see if I can get Linda drunk before 2 pm," Sirius said almost seriously, leaning against the wall.
Linda ignored him, smiling. "Because we need to get out and have a good day. We'll be back in school pretty soon, and we've not really had a vacation."
Amelia wondered if they should feel guilty about having fun, for some reason. "Is Lily coming?"
Linda shook her head. "We went to call on her. She won't see anyone. Hasn't for days."
Sirius interrupted at Linda's somberness. "So, since she won't see us, and for lack of anything better to do, we're going to town. You coming or not?"
What the hell, Amelia thought. She agreed that they did need to get out. She'd been waiting for word from Reg, but he was still avoiding her it seemed, and she really wanted to not think about that. "Just let me get my coat."
Sirius and Linda said that they'd wait for her downstairs.
Amelia got up from her vanity, walked over to the hook she hung her red cashmere coat on. Just when she wrapped herself in it, she heard a thunk. She looked down; there was something on the floor. A tiny box. Must've fallen out of her pocket. Kneeling down, she picked it up and examined it in her hand. She pulled open the black velvet top and inside was a thinnest of gold chains slithered on the tiny white cushion, and a simple heart ruby hanging from the end of it, sleeping inside the box. This was Reg's Christmas present. He hadn't given it to her before. She knew it was from him. It was exactly what he told her he was going to give her—Reg wasn't much for surprises.
It was in her coat pocket. Had he been in her room? How did he get in, and when had he come?
There was the smallest note inside with the necklace, so small that she had to squint to read it. It has to be this way. Maybe one day you'll understand.
That's what the note said.
Amelia sat on the edge of her bed, forgetting all about the little, black, velvet box in her hand, and just staring at the note. This meant…
"Hey!" Linda's head poked in from the door. "What's taking so long?" She stepped inside the room when she noticed her friend's bloodless expression. "Anything wrong?"
Amelia looked up, and after a moment's thought replied, "Sudden headache. I don't feel up to going after all."
"Oh, that's too bad. I'll tell you mom, in case you want soup or medicine or something. We'll bring you back something from town. Feel better, Mel."
Amelia waited til her friend left to fall back on the bed. Reg was gone? He was. Really gone. And not coming back.
Was it something she said? She thought of how she had told him she loved him. Was that it? Maybe, but it had to be something truly big for him to leave town. To disappear. Maybe he didn't love me as much as I had thought. Or at all. Maybe my words were too little too late. Or unwanted. All this What-Iffing was tying her thoughts in knots and suffocating.
Looking at a picture of him beside her bed, she recalled his words. "Now you tell me.." He had known even then that he was leaving.
She was such a fool.
Take my photo off the wall If it just won't sing for you
'Cause all that's left has gone away
And there's nothing there for you to prove
Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
Oh well, it seems likes such fun
Until you lose what you had won
Give me back my point of view
'Cause I just can't think for you
I can hardly hear you say
What should I do, well you choose
Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
Oh well, it seems likes such fun
Until you lose what you had won
Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
A fool of everyone
A fool of everyone
Take my photo off the wall
If it just won't sing for you
'Cause all that's left has gone away
And there's nothing there for you to do
Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
Oh well, it seems likes such fun
Until you lose what you had won
Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
A fool of everyone
A fool of everyone
"You think Amelia will be alright?" Sirius asked.
Linda shrugged beside him. "I hope so. It seemed like more than just a headache. She seemed…I don't know. I'll check on her later. See if there's at least someone I can help, instead of feeling so useless."
"It's not your fault Lily won't see anyone," Sirius told her, knowing that's why Linda felt 'so useless.'
"She'll see James. He's the only one who's made it through her doors since the funeral."
"Only once, because he forced his way through, so don't get all crestfallen," Sirius assured her as they walked down Trafalgar Square. There wasn't many people out oddly enough, making the streets seem empty. The nearly black cobble-stones of the street protruded together like a sort of bubbling river, or a boiling pot being lowered to a simmer. And in the winter, with the snow everywhere, the place looked even more magical. "So how have you been?" Sirius asked, and added, "Apart from you being so damn useless."
Linda nudged him in the side. "I don't know. It's been like…ten days. I miss her and I'm sad but…I don't want to be sad anymore. I don't want to just stop living. Am I making any sense? I don't know that either. All I know is I needed to get out of the house.
Sirius grabbed her hand. "Well, let's get to it then, shall we? Which bar do you want to get drunk in first?"
Linda laughed outright and nudged him harder.
And as quick as she could, she picked up a handful of snow. Before she knew it, she had shaped it into a ball and threw it in Sirius's face.
Wiping the snow off his now-cold-as-hell face, he said dead-pan, "Oh, that's mature."
And before they knew it, they were in a snowball fight.
At one point, just as Linda was pulling her arm back to throw more snow, she slipped on some ice and slid forward…toppling Sirius over in the process.
He half-laid on top of her, their faces inches apart. Damn, I'm a klutz, thought Linda as Sirius eyes just kept looking at her. He was smiling. "What?" she asked.
He smiled wider, and his hand reached over to her face, and brushed her light brown locks away. Nearly laughing he said, "You've got snow in your hair."
Time stood still for a minute. Did it? Well, the next thing Linda knew, Sirius got off of her, stood up, and reached for her hand to help her. As he pulled her up—his warm, strong fingers (that had just been running through her hair only moments ago) gripped gently yet firmly around her own slimmer ones—Linda knew she held on to Sirius's hand a few seconds too long. She cursed herself. Sirius didn't say anything. Linda couldn't think of anything to say either.
Sirius seemed uncomfortable, or awkward almost. But he never appeared awkward, but always cool and…right. He let go of her hand first.
James knocked—as he had been for the last ten minutes—on Lily's bedroom door. "Let me in. Lily, I brought you something to eat. Right. Just so you know, I'm not leaving here until you open this door, and I see you." No response. "I haven't seen you in a couple days, and I'm having Lily-withdrawal." His light-hearted comment didn't even get a breath of a response on the other side of the door. "Okay, I'm coming in. Here I come. Lily? I'm coming in. I mean it."
But of course he didn't really mean it, because Lily's door was kind of thick, and though he might be able to bring the door down, there was only a slim chance of succeeding with a great chance of heavy damage to his shoulder.
Instead, James waited (slumped on the ground now) with his tray of food, outside Lily's door. Until she chose to open it.
Must have been his lucky day. Because he only had to wait another fifteen minutes until he heard the lock in her door unclick. James scrambled to his feet and opened the door fast enough to find his best friend settling herself on her made bed. It was made, he knew, because she wasn't sleeping in it. She wasn't sleeping at all.
"Lil, I brought some—"
She pointed across the room. "Put it on the desk, James."
He walked over to her. Lily was staring out the window, at nothing in particular. There were bags under her red eyes. The greens of her irises seemed to lack luster, and she looked so tired. He hated to see her like this. When was the last time she'd slept? He could see her from his own bedroom. Her light never turned off at night because they were never on to begin with. Lily would just sit in the dark sometimes. More than once, he found her wearing the same thing she had from the day before.
"They say it's murder." Lily finally said, her voice painless now.
"How do they know?" James asked carefully.
She still stared out the window. "They found an occult mark. A skull with a snake for a tongue. Isn't that the Death Eater mark? I haven't told Dad about that last part yet."
The Deatheaters? thought James. What would they want from muggle-mother Rose Evans? Was this a random kill, or had they been instructed by their leader? This posed another question James was afraid to think: What would Lord Voldemorte want with Lily's mother?
"Lie down," James told her as he sat beside his friend, wanting to hold her, and changing the subject. "I want you to get some rest."
Lily shook her head so very slightly. "I see so many things when I sleep. And I'm tired of dreaming."
James looked around, as if trying to find an idea. "I won't leave until you rest," he stated simply.
Then, for the first time since James had walked in, Lily turned, her limp red hair falling to the sides of her face, and faced James. He'd never seen anyone look so tired. "Will you stay?" she asked, her voice steady. "Stay with me. Here."
Amelia picked at her dinner plate, not eating a bite, yet talking a mile a minute to her family about any subject that popped into her head. Maybe she thought the more she talked, the less she thought of him. Of Reg.
There was a knock at the door.
"Hi, Sirius," Amelia greeted when she opened the door.
Authoress's notes:
To: Laurel, KJ, Lacey, Amanda, Hayley, Vick, Kelly, Samantha, Kait, Meg, Katie, Keeks, Kelly, Lydia, Pia, Sam, Kelly again, fish30, mello80, Kirsten, Paddy, The Miss Kaitlyn Mills, Robin a Bobbin...I LOVE YOU! Thanks for reading, reviewing and sticking around. I love you guys LOTS. Cookies to all
P.s. I'm excited about the next chapter. :Hums: