Author's notes: Sorry, sorry, sorry, SORRY this chapter took so bloody long to put out! Everything just seemed to work against me for this one – Half-Blood Prince came out (which, by the way, I completely loved and read in seven hours) and put me in a funk for about two weeks, then school started and, of course, junior year happens to be the worst year in high school, and I got a new job and the hours are horrible, and I got into another writing funk, and life in general just sucks. So, that's why you all had to wait three months for a new chapter.
There is some good news, however. I recently bought Titanic on special edition DVD and am totally excited to write again! Deleted scenes! Joy! Rapture!
Er…Anyway, Happy Halloween.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any references to James Cameron's Titanic.
Chapter Seventeen
4:28 PM
R.M.S TitanicThe necklace glittered triumphantly, catching the light from the sitting room and bouncing small patches of light around the room like a sinister chandelier, hanging from the Master at Arms' podgy finger.
"Yes, that's it."
Lily blinked as Lucius's hand left her shoulder, and suddenly, her emotions crashed into her. She couldn't breathe, and she didn't want to think – not about Lucius, not about James, not about that bloody necklace –
It was like watching a play from the very worst seats in the theatre. Lily stood helplessly in the back, removed from the situation and too frightened to move forward, too horrified to make sense of the situation, too heartbroken to care any more.
The Master handed Lucius the necklace. James's eyes watched the handoff with absolute shock.
"What…What the fucking hell?" his hoarse, hysterical voice cried not a moment later. "I didn't – how – "
"Apparently, you're not as good of a thief as you thought," Lucius said in response, putting the necklace into his own pocket for safekeeping. "Had you not been dropping hints and leaving clues everywhere, you might've gotten away with it…Despicable, really, what means one will use to get something as simple as jewels."
Lucius turned his head, fixing his cold eyes on Lily.
Suddenly, everything that had taken place hit her dead on. Her knees buckled and she drew a great, gasping breath, no longer part of the audience but an active player in the story.
The reason James had been in her wardrobe this morning was because he was looking for the necklace; he hadn't been there to surprise her or to say good morning.
Hadn't she found him fiddling with the safe when she'd first opened the door? Hadn't he been surprised and tucked something into his pocket before he went to distract her? Hadn't he told her, in plain English, that he had been a thief and that he was particularly good with locks?
The men were staring at her, expecting her to say something, but how could she say something when her voice was stuck in her throat, her brain was a muddle of emotions and thoughts that she couldn't control, and her heart was beating a painful tattoo against her chest? How could she say anything, when her fiancé's necklace had just been pulled out of the pocket of the man she loved, who had supposedly loved her back?
How?
"I didn't do this!" James cried, drawing her attention to him for the first time in minutes. "Don't believe them, Lily!"
She hadn't wanted to look at him, had never wanted to see his handsome face again, but her heart betrayed her. The two stewards he had come in with were pressing his arms behind his back, waiting for the Master at Arms to handcuff their prisoner. He wasn't looking at anyone but her, his eyes desperate and pleading. Pleading with her to believe him, to set him free.
"You know I wouldn't do this, Lily – Snape came down to get me, he must have put in my pocket – "
"Shut up!" Lucius roared, turning.
He hit James hard across the face. The blow snapped James's head back and he stood very still, momentarily stunned. Then, overcoming it, he turned to face Lucius and, snarling, spat in his face.
Lucius howled indignantly, wiping his face with one hand and balling the other into a vicious fist – James skewed his face in anticipation –
Lily lunged forward, spurred into movement by a sudden, fierce urge to protect James; she knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of Lucius's angry fists.
"Stop it!" she cried desperately, grabbing his wrist with her hands and holding him back.
He shoved her away forcefully and she stumbled, crashing into an end table on her way down to the carpeted floor. The fall knocked the breath out of her and she looked up, gasping as pain laced up her side.
"Really, that's enough – !" the Master at Arms exclaimed warningly, but James had slammed an elbow into the stomach of the smaller steward, who let go and promptly doubled over in pain. James tore his arm away from the grasp of the other steward, who was seemingly too stunned by his partner's fall to do anything else, and launched himself at Lucius.
The two men went flying to the floor in a tangle of limbs and strangled curses. James was on top in seconds, his fists furiously punching every bit of Lucius he could find, while Lucius returned any blow he could, his face snarling. James gained the advantage quickly and in moments had cocked his fist high above, ready to ram it into Lucius's face –
"James, stop it!" Lily cried, terrified by his violent side.
His fist quivered, held back by her words. He glanced up, locking eyes with her for one moment, until Lucius seized his chance and ploughed his fist into James's chin. Instantly, they were back at it, pounding each other ferociously.
The uninjured steward and the Master at Arms, who until this moment had stood stunned, watching the brawl take place, suddenly leapt into the fray. They heaved James, whose nose was bleeding and whose glasses were askew, off of Lucius and pressed him flat on the floor, quickly cuffing his hands behind his back.
Lucius sat up, hair coming out of his bow, clothes dishevelled, and lip bleeding.
He sneered at James's struggling form in front of him, wiping the blood off his lip with the sleeve of his coat.
"Well," he said, his chest heaving, "I think you've certainly proven yourself guilty now."
"I DIDN'T – " James's carpet-muffled voice protested.
"Even if I had slipped you the necklace," Snape's oily voice commented from over by the doorway. Lily's eyes darted over to him. He was holding up James's forgotten coat, looking at the label with particular interest, "it wouldn't even have been your pocket I slipped it into. This overcoat is the property of one S. Black."
"What?" James demanded, glancing up with a shocked expression on his face.
Snape ignored him and glanced to the Master, as if expecting a great revelation. He was not disappointed.
"That was reported stolen a few days ago," the Master replied, his brow furrowed in thought. "A Mr. R.A. Black came to my office; said his brother's coat had gone missing."
"Tsk, tsk…" continued Snape, delighted. "Stealing from old friends now, Potter? Really, I expected better from you…"
"Haven't you enough proof yet? Get him out of my sight!" Lucius bellowed, pointing a finger at the door and glaring at the Master at Arms. He was standing now, looking sinister in his rumpled suit and flushed face.
The Master at Arms grunted, glowering at Lucius briefly, before hauling James to his feet and shoving him into the awaiting arms of the two stewards.
And then James looked at Lily.
Lily, who was still lying on the floor, helpless, next to the overturned end table. Lily, who was so heartbroken, so betrayed that she couldn't even think straight. Lily, who looked away as the man – the thief she had come to love pleaded his case to her with his desperate hazel eyes.
"Lily, please – you know I wouldn't do this. I didn't – I would never – not to you, not – "
"OUT!" Lucius shouted.
She risked one last look at him. He was struggling wildly against the two stewards, who looked inclined to put him out of his misery, and his eyes sought hers, begging silently as his verbal pleas fell on deaf ears.
They dragged him out the door, the Master at Arms saying things like, "C'mon lad, don't be difficult," as he fought tooth and nail against them.
"Don't believe him, Lily, just don't! You know I didn't do it!" he cried, as the two stewards lugged him into the corridor and out of the sight. Snape and the Master at Arms exited the room a moment later, following after the struggling trio. "You know me!"
The sitting room was quiet as the sounds of James's struggle faded down the corridor and Lily was left with her shock and jumbled emotions. She sat up, drained, her hair falling out of its once neat chignon, and placed her head in her trembling hands.
She wanted to cry, felt that she should, but no tears would come free from where they were gathering behind her eyes. Perhaps she had cried too much this week, perhaps she could no longer cry at all, like the way she couldn't feel anything anymore. Not the pain she knew that must be in her heart, not the rage that had to be burning inside her, not the despair that would be clouding her senses –
The sitting room door closed with a snap.
Lily glanced up, her trembling increasing, as she realised Lucius had not left the room.
"So," he said lightly, standing over her with a sickly sweet smirk on his face. "What was this about not wanting to be married to me?"
He yanked her to her feet a moment later and slapped her hard, probably harder than he had hit James.
She hardly felt it.
"It looks like you don't have a choice now," Lucius muttered viciously.
He grabbed her left hand, his tight grip painful, and forced his engagement ring back on her finger.
"You're mine."
5:17 PM
"Over here lad."
One hand gripping James's upper forearm, the Master at Arms led him over to the far side of his office where a white, L-shaped pipe stood waiting. James didn't move as the Master unlocked the cuffs around his wrists.
"All right, hands in front."
Mechanically, James did as he was told, hanging his hands in front of him, waiting for the cuffs to go back on. The Master slapped one on his left wrist, wrapped the chain around the pipe, and then clamped the other shut around the right wrist.
"That's it?" Snape's voice demanded from the doorway.
James's eyes flickered to him briefly, disgust rising in his chest, before turning away. He stared at the glaringly white wall, wanting to be left alone.
"You're just going to tie him to a pipe and leave him?" Snape continued, the distaste obvious in his tone.
"Do you have any better ideas?" the Master snapped in return. "All our cells are full with stowaways or other criminals…I could always just let him go, if you find this unsuitable."
James wouldn't have gone if they had let him go. He'd rather stay shackled to a pipe than face the world and everything that had been turned upside down.
He wasn't going to think about it.
Or her.
Especially not about her.
If he didn't think about it, than he could avoid – if even for another second – feeling the heavy pain settling in his chest.
She hadn't believed him.
He skewed his eyes shut, willing himself to stop it, to focus on whatever the hell Snape was saying instead of the storm that was brewing inside of him or the heavy weight of disbelief that was settling on his shoulders or – or –
"Fine," Snape said, his footsteps crossing the threshold and coming closer. "But Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure, would rather have me keep watch over him than one of your charges."
"Mr. Snape – " the Master began, sounding exasperated.
James interrupted him, speaking for the first time since he had arrived. He hadn't stopped screaming for…for her to believe him until they dragged him into the lift and then he had been quiet, realising what exactly had happened, what she had done –
"Just want to gloat in my face for another few hours, Snivellus?"
His voice was hoarse and flat, lacking the usual bite and ferocity that he used with Snape. The insult tacked onto the end had no sting, just as dead as James was feeling.
"Really, Potter, resorting to schoolyard insults…How childish and utterly typical of you," Snape replied. A chair scraped against the hardwood floor, and he heard the Master at Arms sigh in compliance before his footsteps faded into the next room. "Must be feeling a bit pathetic now, trying to sneak around Lucius Malfoy…"
James grit his teeth together, knowing that he wasn't talking at all about his supposed thievery. He opened his eyes, staring determinedly at the wall in front of him.
"It wouldn't have worked, you know…All you were was a novelty item to her." Snape's voice had lowered to a whisper and James could just picture the sneer hanging right under his huge nose. "After a few days in the real world, the novelty would have worn off and she'd have wanted out. She would've seen the real you, the one I know…The pathetic rat disguised as a strutting peacock. What could you have offered her anyway? You have nothing and she's used to everything."
He wasn't going to think about it. He wasn't going to let Snape get to him; he was going to ignore that greasy voice, going to use all of his self-control and not take anything to heart.
But it was true. Every word, every syllable was true.
"After you couldn't provide her with everything, she would've come crawling back to her engagement, to the man she belongs to…And you knew that, didn't you?" Snape paused for a moment, trying to go for a dramatic effect before he continued, "Well, at least you should now…She didn't even try to defend you, did she?"
"SHUT UP!" James roared, rattling his cuffs against the pipe as he tried to lunge at the sitting man, giving Snape the reaction he had been fishing for.
He didn't care, didn't care one bit. Snape could have his reaction because he wouldn't get a moment to savour it; James would kill him for mentioning it, for bringing the stab of hurt back, and breaking his defences.
"Touched a nerve, did I?" Snape asked lightly, observing James with an amused glint in his eyes. He was turned toward James, his legs propped up on the corner of the desk he was sitting at, hands folded on his lap. "Did you honestly believe that you and your lady love would live happily ever after in the slums of New York? You're more deluded than I thought."
"I told you to shut you bloody mouth!" James shouted, his temper taking control.
Perhaps Snape read the familiar violent glint in James's eye or remembered that his legs weren't shackled to the pipe like his hands were, but in the next moment, he had drawn a silver pistol from the folds of his suit jacket and was pointing it lazily at James. James stopped struggling almost instantly, his temper softened by the lethal threat Snape was presenting.
"I think, Potter, that I'm the one who should be giving orders here," Snape said softly, his voice laced with malice. He kept the pistol trained on James as he put his feet down and rose from his chair. "Just give me a reason, and I'll do it."
"You don't need a reason, Snape," James said levelly, glaring into Snape's fiery black eyes as he stepped closer. He felt the cool metal of the barrel of the pistol press against his temple and gulped, a prickle of fear shimmering down his spine. The angry, arrogant side of him, however, refused to be intimidated by Snivellus and continued, "If you want to kill me so badly, do it. Put me out of my misery."
James wouldn't put it past Snape to actually consider the pros and cons of unloading a bullet into his brain. But a few tense moments later, the barrel, pressed hard into the skin of his temple, pulled away completely.
"A heroic end, shot down by your worst enemy…Typical Gryffindor death. I do think you would enjoy that far too much," Snape said at last. "I'd rather let you live and suffer…you must be going through incredible mental agony now and it'd be a shame to put an end to it so soon."
"Coward," James spat.
He saw Snape's finger flicker toward the trigger.
"Coward, am I?" Snape whispered, his tone furious. "Don't tempt me, Potter."
Instead of firing a bullet to the head, Snape settled with swiftly ramming his fist into James's stomach.
James doubled over and sank to his knees, the air going out of his lungs in one pain filled grunt. He wrenched his eyes shut, a sickening, fiery pain filling him, and saw stars dancing beneath his eyelids. He coughed violently, hoping that he was not about to retch all over Snape's shiny shoes.
"Your newfound physical agony comes with compliments from myself and Lucius Malfoy," Snape said lightly, the oak chair creaking as he sat down again.
"Bastard," James breathed, wincing as every movement caused a sharp stab of pain to attack his stomach.
"Yes, well, I can live with that."
6:12 PM
"Spent a long enough time in the corridor, didn't you Regulus?" Sirius said, looking up from the book he had been distracting himself with for the past half an hour, his brother's copy of Pureblooded Genealogies in Britain.
Regulus had been out in the corridor for at least ten minutes, after answering a knock at the door.
"Who was it?"
"A steward," Regulus responded, stalking over to Sirius's four-poster bed where he was sitting. He tossed an overcoat on his legs and continued, "Apparently, they found your coat a little while ago."
"What coat?" Sirius demanded, staring perplexedly at the coat covering his legs.
Regulus threw him an exasperated look as he walked back over to the desk, probably trying to finish the sonnet he had been composing about Riddle's eyebrows.
"The one that went missing earlier this week. I told you I couldn't find it – you've been borrowing mine for the past few days."
Well, that certainly explained why he had been feeling incredibly cramped for the past few days.
"Oh. Right."
Sirius had completely forgotten about his missing coat. He hadn't thought it was a problem, as he had and could afford other coats, but Regulus had reported it to the Master at Arms because he was an idiot and liked to file constant complaints.
"Where did they find it?" Sirius asked, casually flipping a page in his book. "On the Boat Deck?"
"No. It was in the possession of another passenger."
Sirius stopped scanning the page in the book and his eyes flickered to Regulus. He had returned to his seat at the desk and was staring at Sirius, a peculiar expression on his face.
"You mean someone stole it?"
Regulus looked at him like he was stupid.
"Of course that's what I mean – they found it on the shoulders of your old friend, Potter."
This time it was Sirius's turn to stare.
"What?" he sputtered a moment later, his tone demanding an explanation from his brother. "Are you trying to say that Ja – " Regulus's eyes flashed and Sirius hastened to fix his mistake, " – Potter stole my coat?"
"He was wearing it," Regulus stated matter-of-factly, turning his attention away from his older brother to his nails once Sirius hadn't given him a satisfactory response.
"Well, what are the chances of him stealing it? He hasn't been around here since dinner that night, and you know I haven't been in contact with him. I did let him borrow my overcoat the other night since yours was too small; I probably forgot about it," Sirius suggested, fishing around for other excuses he could use in defence of his friend. "I wasn't exactly sober that night."
He knew that James hadn't stolen his coat; most likely, he'd left it behind in the third class general room one day, and James had probably just been wearing it around, looking for a chance to give it back to him. But he could hardly tell Regulus that.
Regulus muttered something under his breath that sounded rather like a disbelieving, "Right," as he dug a piece of dirt out from under his thumbnail.
"…You didn't press charges, did you?" Sirius asked, annoyed, shooting Regulus a suspicious glare. It would just be their luck, to have James locked away with the Master at Arms over something as frivolous as a coat, and then Sirius would have to risk his position and go explain why James was innocent –
"No," he replied, in a surprisingly calm manner. Sirius exhaled deeply through his nose, relieved that his brother had had enough sense for once in his life. "But Lucius Malfoy did."
Sirius dropped his book in surprise and sat up straight, staring at Regulus uncomprehendingly.
"What? Why would Lucius press charges over my coat? Does he suddenly own that too?"
"It wasn't your coat, idiot – don't you know by now?" Regulus said, looking up from his nail examination to sneer at his brother. "Lucius told me personally, but I expect it should be all over the ship by now, just happened – "
His heart was racing and emotions were on a thin edge. James was in trouble; he didn't have time to sit and listen to Regulus gloat and be a pompous arse!
"Shut up, Regulus, and just tell me what happened between Lucius and Potter before I get angry!"
Sirius, of course, was already seething, and perhaps Regulus could see that or perhaps he saw the threatening look in Sirius's eye, for a moment later he answered his inquiry.
"The Malfoy necklace went the way of my pearl cufflinks. Somehow, they ended up in Potter's pocket."
9:16 PM
"I think a toast of congratulations is an order."
Lucius smirked proudly, catching Tom's eye across the table. The older man had raised his brandy glass and was indicating with a triumphant gleam in his eye that the others on the table should do the same.
Tom and Lucius had managed to commandeer a larger smoking room table tonight that they were used to. News about Lucius's escapade with a thief had spread across the ship like wildfire, hurried along by the bruise under his eye and cut lip he was sporting. Many had congregated around him during dinner and now to hear a re-telling of the tale, and he was more than happy to oblige them.
"It takes a good deal of ingenuity and intelligence to catch a thief, and I'm proud to say that my colleague, Lucius Malfoy, has both these traits and more," Tom continued with his toast, breaking his steady gaze with Lucius to glare at Regulus Black, who had not yet touched his brandy glass and was staring morosely at the other members at the table. "To Lucius."
Glasses clinked together as members of the table toasted Lucius's name. Lucius could not hold back his smirk as he took a drink from his own glass.
"It was nothing, really. Potter left clues lying about everywhere…terribly easy," he responded, attempting to be modest. "But I thank you for your congratulations and concerns."
"Easy? Looks like you got a bit roughed up in the process," the young Johnson remarked, setting down his glass and staring out right at Lucius's lip. "I heard those steerage blokes can really throw a punch…"
Lucius rubbed his sore jaw, feeling the stiffness and pain that still lingered hours after he and Potter had brawled. He had not been surprised when Potter had fought back; he had been counting on a reaction of similar nature, though he hadn't been expecting Potter to be able to hit quite so hard. The pain had been worth it, however, as their fight had been the last nail in Potter's coffin.
"I think he believed that the only way to prove his innocence was to beat my mouth closed," Lucius explained, favouring them all with a small smile. His cut lip throbbed in protest. "But believe me, I'm sure he looks even worse than I do."
"I heard he'd been stealing from other passengers. Is there any grain of truth to that?" one of the older men asked over the laughter generated by Lucius's last comment. He stared pointedly at the glum Regulus.
"It's mostly true, anyway," Lucius responded, glancing at the young Black as well. "I'm sure a search of his cabin will yield more results, but the only item we found on his person was Sirius Black's overcoat." He directed his next comment to Regulus. "Where is your brother anyway? I thought he wouldn't miss a moment of tonight's excitement."
Regulus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking slightly more miserable, and mumbled something about Black having a sudden stomach illness.
Lucius narrowed his eyes. There had been whispers about the eldest Black for ages, whispers that he had joined Dumbledore's Order and was a sympathiser to the gentry cause. Lucius'd had his suspicions about Sirius Black and his sudden interest in Death Eaters. It looked as though he finally had enough proof to be proven correct. How utterly convenient was it for Black, procuring a stomach illness right when his 'old friend' Potter (who, from the way it sounded, also must have something to do with the Order) had been arrested? Once Severus came back, Lucius would have to have him look into the matter.
"Was he rather upset about the ordeal?" Tom asked.
Regulus shrugged carelessly.
"Depends on what you would consider upset," he replied, staring into his glass. "He raged for a bit, mostly at me, and then he was going to go talk to the Master at Arms – "
"Why?" Lucius interrupted, suspicions sparked further.
"I don't know, probably so he could go yell at Potter. Do you honestly think he tells me these things?"
"You're his brother," Johnson pointed out unnecessarily.
Regulus rolled his eyes and sank back into his chair without a word, glaring daggers at his half-filled brandy glass.
Wisely deciding to change the subject, the older man spoke up again. "It's probably not my place, but…is it also true that Potter was…ah…seducing your fiancée to get at the jewels, Lucius?"
Frowning tightly, Lucius nodded. Low murmurs erupted a moment later, some in surprise and others in outright indignation.
And they should be outraged. It burned him up that Lily was more attracted to some boy who probably hadn't bathed in days to him, one of the most powerful men in English society.
Lily was his, not some third-rate, penniless brat's. She was wearing his ring, not Potter's. He had gotten to her first.
What was it that she saw in him? What did Potter have that Lucius didn't? He could give her everything that she ever dreamed; she'd be the quintessential wife, the one all other women envied, the one other men yearned to have. She'd be perfect, she'd have everything, and she'd have him.
What didn't he have?
He took a quick drink of his brandy, swallowing his bitterness with the amber liquid as Tom spoke up, trying to calm the table's inhabitants, "Potter was a tricky devil. I don't think either of us suspected he would drag innocent Miss Evans into all of this."
"From what I heard, Miss Evans dragged herself into it without any encouragement from your thief," a young man next to Regulus said. "Not giving her what she wants, Malfoy?"
His smart comment elicited several chuckles from the other men, although Lucius was hardly amused.
10:00 PM
"Bloody hell, it's cold tonight!"
Lookout Fredrick Fleet pulled himself up into the crow's nest, quickly standing and moving aside so his companion, Reginald Lee, could join him.
"Got that right, mate," Archie Jewells replied, his teeth chattering, watching as Lee pulled himself through the hatch. Jewells and George Symons had been in the nest since the afternoon, and by testament from their red cheeks and shivering forms, they were ready to go down below. "I don't envy you blokes in the slightest."
"Be on the lookout for ice," Symons instructed, sitting on the edge of the hatch, legs dangling high above the deck. "Smith's orders specially."
Fleet snorted. If the captain wanted them to keep a proper lookout for ice, why didn't he find them a pair of glasses instead of giving them obvious commands?
"Isn't that what we're here for?" Lee asked, agreeing with Fleet's thoughts exactly. He rolled his eyes as Symons disappeared down the ladder.
"Aye, but from what I've heard, we've been getting more warnings," Fleet responded, taking Symons vacated spot and glancing out at the sea.
"Well, at least you've got a calm night ahead of you…Water's as smooth as glass, strangest thing I've seen," Jewells said, descending the ladder rung by rung. "Good luck trying to spot anything without glasses."
"Jewells, you know I don't need glasses!" Fleet called, feeling humorous. He bent down to close the hatch. "I can smell ice!"
Jewells laughed and Lee, annoyed by his continuous claim, muttered an irritated, "Bullocks," under his breath.
10:54 PM
"How could you?"
Petunia's accusing tone cut through her like a knife, but Lily said nothing, staring out the porthole and to the ocean. She didn't need this, on top of everything else –
"Don't you know what you could've done – to your engagement? To our reputation?" Petunia continued in low tone. Lily didn't know what was worse; this quiet blame or the shrill threats. "Do you know what you've already compromised?"
"I…I made a mistake," Lily responded, her voice cracking.
She didn't know what mistake she was referring to. Perhaps it was falling for James in the first place, maybe it was agreeing to Lucius's proposal, or maybe…maybe…
"A mistake? Well, damn right you made a mistake! You're lucky Lucius still wants you after all this trouble…My own sister!"
Petunia continued on this vein, but Lily tuned her out, fed up with her sister. Petunia – safe, predictable Petunia – would never understand what it was like to throw your heart and soul to someone, and have it smashed into pieces the very next moment. She would never understand about anything Lily was going through; the doubts that were gnawing away at her resolve, the sick, twisted feeling in her stomach, the heaviness in her heart that made her think she was making an even bigger mistake at this very moment…
What if James hadn't stolen the necklace? What if Lucius had had something to do with it? What if he was innocent and she had just condemned him to an unfair fate at the hands of her fiancé? What if she was wrong?
But the necklace had been in his pocket. He had been in her wardrobe that morning, and the necklace had gone missing after he left. He had been a thief, he could pick locks, he knew where her stateroom was –
She was a fool to still consider James innocent. The evidence was damning, there was proof to his crime. James had to have stolen the necklace –
But what if he hadn't?
She'd seen the absolute disbelief in his eyes when he had been taken from the sitting room, she'd heard the hurt in his tone…She was creating doubt in a situation when there shouldn't be because she didn't want to believe that he would hurt her. She was making excuses for this thief because she cared for him and some part of her desperately claimed he cared for her too. She didn't want to believe any of it.
She brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes, gently massaging her pounding head. She was exhausted and her appearance told the tale. Her hair was hanging loose from its once neat chignon and her dress was heavily wrinkled. Her face was pale and drawn, eyes red and heavy, and a darker, more violent bruise joining the other on her cheek. She was sure there were others on her body, one from her fall and the rest from Lucius.
He had forbidden her from coming to dinner with him tonight. Partially, he said, because she looked like utter shit, and because she was going to be the talk of the ship and he didn't want her embarrassing him further. He was ashamed of her, just as Petunia was, just as she was of herself.
Lily buried her face in her hand, pushing back tears.
God, she was an utter fool.
11:05 PM
The cabin door slammed shut loudly and Sirius sat upright on the bed, his hopeful look quickly dashed at the sight of Remus's angry expression.
"Did you get to see – ?" he began.
"No," Remus replied, cutting him off. He leaned against the door, glaring at his shoes. "I wasn't allowed in the crew area – I had to wait for at least a half an hour by the gate for a steward to go get someone who knew what was going on, and when someone finally came, it wasn't even the Master at Arms. He sent one of his lackeys to deal with me, to tell me that I can't talk, let alone see, James until the ship docks." He ran a hand through his hair and then spat, "On Lucius Malfoy's orders."
"Figured he'd try that," Sirius muttered, shaking his head. "Good thing you convinced me not to go."
Remus didn't respond, furiously chewing on his tongue.
He hadn't even known about this until Sirius had appeared in his cabin after dinner and told him. No representatives from the Master at Arms had knocked on his door to tell him his cabin mate was in jail for stealing from Lucius Malfoy. He would've never known if Sirius hadn't told him since he and James were still fighting.
Remus knew something like this would happen.
He knew, and James had ignored his advice. He had gotten himself tangled up with Lily and it had earned him a spot in a jail cell. Remus had been right, and James had been a fool.
If he had been allowed to see James, Remus hadn't known what he would say or do to him, for that matter. He was still livid from their argument last night and it appeared that James had felt the same way, as they hadn't spoken a word to each other at lunch. Remus, at least, was justified for his anger.
How dare James accuse him of being Malfoy's stool pigeon? If the pig-headed prat had opened his ears, he would've realised that Remus had been warning him about crossing Malfoy! If he had listened, James probably wouldn't be locked up in the Master at Arms' office right now!
"What're we going to do?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.
He looked up, locks of hair falling into his eyes. Sirius was still sitting on his bed, fiddling with hem of his coat, probably the same one James had been wearing earlier.
"I don't know," Sirius said at last, locking eyes with Remus. "I won't know until I wire Dumbledore tomorrow and get a response. Until then, we're sunk."
11:36 PM
"Oi, mate…Looky here."
Fleet, eager for a distraction from the water ahead, glanced at Lee. He was grinning, his cheeks flushed red with the cold, and was pointing down to the deck. Fleet shuffled closer, squeezing in on Lee's side, and looked over the side of the crow's nest.
Below, a couple was kissing fiercely, putting on a good show for anyone who happened to be out on deck at the moment, including the lookouts. Fleet probably would've never noticed them if Lee didn't distracted so easily.
"Oh, stop looking at that," Fleet replied, though a grin was quickly spreading across his face. "Give them some privacy, eh?"
"They're a bit warmer than we are, ain't they?" Lee chuckled, smirking over his shoulder at Fleet.
"Sure, but if that's what it takes to get warm, I'd rather not if it's all the same to you, all right?" Fleet returned, sharing in Lee's mirth and shoving his companion in the shoulder.
Chuckling, the two men turned around and faced the sea. Fleet blew into his gloved hands, trying to keep them a bit warmer, and stared at the endless darkness before him. He squinted, wishing (not for the first time) that there were a pair of glasses up in the nest.
The water was calmer than he had ever seen it, almost – as Jewells had claimed – like glass. There was no moon either and the stars and the lights from the giant ship only illuminated the seawater. Fleet had been a lookout for years and had never –
Fleet's eyes widened suddenly and sucked in a terrified breath. To his left, Lee stiffened and cursed, both of them panicking at the sight looming out of the darkness ahead.
Automatically, Fleet reached for the bell hanging behind them.
11:39 PM
The warning bell sounded three times from the lookout's nest, the sound echoing in the quiet of the night.
First Officer Murdoch was standing just outside the bridge when the sound reached his ears. He turned around, perplexed, and stared out to the ocean ahead to see what the trouble was. He squinted, the light from the deck obstructing his vision slightly.
Distantly, he heard the telephone ring in the bridge.
Sixth Officer Moody had been talking to another officer when he heard the telephone ring. Surprised, he rounded the corner into the bridge, clutching a cup of tea in his hand. He flipped the switch on the telephone and leaned in, asking, "What do you see?"
Murdoch saw it, the ominous shape blocking the stars from view. His face paled and he turned, running to the bridge.
11: 40 PM
"Iceberg right ahead!"
Yes, I do enjoy being incredibly evil. It's one of my many hobbies.
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