Lily grabbed James' shoulder and pulled him to a halt once they had quite a few doors and stairs between the dungeons and themselves.
"Wait, James. I just realized we can't go to Dumbledore."
"Why the hell not?" he demanded. Sirius came to a halt and paused, turning back to the arguing couple.
"Because he's probably asleep," Lily said exasperatedly. Lily bit her lip and tried to calm down; she was still shaking. "We didn't—I didn't think anything through. There's no way we can go to Dumbledore's. That's where we were all headed, right? Well, it's almost eleven now. I don't think he usually holds meetings at this time."
James shrugged her hand off and looked away. He was still seething with anger and boiling for some kind of revenge. Inaction was not an option.
"We could just go to our rooms," suggested Peter feebly.
Sirius narrowed his eyes and Remus shook his head.
"Who could sleep now, Wormtail? Maybe we could still catch Dumbledore."
"No, Lily's right," said James snidely. "She always is."
"Don't be petulant," said Lily warningly. She knew that like James', her mixed-up emotions were ready to tumble out in the form of anger at any moment. That knowledge did not stop her from being annoyed.
"Don't use swotty words like 'petulant,' Lily."
"Do you—"
"I know what the damn word means!" shouted James as the Fat Friar floated by.
"Really, Mr. Potter," he said with disapproval in his ghostly plump features. "You'll wake the castle like that."
The Friar peered down at James' patchy red complexion and squinting eyes.
"I think I know what your problem is. You have too many patrollers here. Like cooks spoiling the soup, you know. Then again, I've never had the problem of having too much soup…it's been so long since I've laid hands on a good bisque…since I've laid hands on anything, really…"
James busied himself with controlling an extremely inappropriate remark as the Friar floated on. Sirius suggested something no one had considered.
"We can go to his office and wait for him until he comes."
There was a tick of time while everyone absorbed this simple, yet judicious plan. None of the five had any ideas about going to sleep anytime soon, and being in the general aura of Dumbledore—at least ready to speak to him at first light—was better than sitting cold in the dorms. There was even the slight chance they might be able to sleep there.
"You mean like outside his office?" asked Peter.
"Yes, in tents," answered James with immeasurable sarcasm. "With a campfire and some mallows to roast. We'll tell scary stories about Moony and eat bugs on sticks."
"I meant inside the office, Wormtail," said Sirius patiently. Uncharacteristically patient, actually. Although Lily did not know it, it was well taken among the Marauders that Sirius would often ease up on Peter after having anything to do with the Slytherins. "If Dumbledore's there in his office, we'll talk to him. If not, we'll talk to him in the morning. Not like someone else is going to come upon us first."
"Is that allowed?" asked Lily.
"Does that matter?" returned Sirius. "We know how to get in there. And by the way, Head Girl, who's going to discipline students that are already in the Headmaster's office? Where will they send us?"
Lily thought it over and decided to blush. Not that she had really decided to, but she did anyway. The somehow ludicrous nature of this plan that was sure to work did not trouble her so much as the situation that would result. Someone (whether it would be Dumbledore or even a House Elf) would discover her illegally in the Headmaster's office while bunking down with the Marauders. Perhaps she could be snuggled in a chair while they lay on the floor.
Sirius' shrewd eyes slid to Lily's face and he had obviously considered Lily's situation as the lonesome female. He showed the first sign of a smirk since he before had spoken to Regulus, ending what was quite a smirking drought for Sirius Black. His face dared Lily to get over her blush and wait for Dumbledore with them. A suggestive comment from James would have been forthcoming if James had not been so busy sulking to himself and thinking evil things about the Slytherins. Sirius had noticed this behavior too.
"A touch of mischief will make Prongs lighten up, Lily," smiled Sirius. "When you two are married, leave out some dishes for him to break when he's under a cloud. Or let him raid your knickers drawer and pretend to be mad about it. He's always peppy when it comes to causing trouble."
"You recover from crisis very quickly, don't you, Sirius?" asked Lily tartly. She glided towards the gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office without so much as another word. Remus grinned and exchanged a look with Sirius. Step one was accomplished.
Even in the aftermath of such a dungeon showdown involving dark intent and the magic to match, James still found the emotion to be so incredibly pissed off at Sirius that he froze for a full minute, his hands clenching into fists in the air.
"The 'M' word, Padfoot?" James hissed in fury, knowing that Lily was out of earshot. "I stand up for you against the Death Eater youth and you repay me with the 'M' word in front of Lily? What kind of rubbish would pull such a trick on his best mate, you sorry—!"
"Wait, 'married' is the 'M' word?" asked Peter, just about cottoning on in the last moment. "Who's getting married?"
Complete anger and disbelief choked James; and he actually gagged on his words. Far from being insulted, Sirius laughed and winked.
"Someone should bring up the topic of marriage with Lily, Prongs, although I think she'd prefer it was you."
James said nothing when, soon after, Sirius recited the password to Dumbledore's study.
"Peppermint Toad."
The gargoyle leapt from their path and the wall revealed a spiral staircase that the Marauders knew rather well. Silently, all five piled into the space and they soon reached the polished door to the office. Lily did not even ask how Sirius knew the password, because there would not really be a point to it.
Sirius was the first to step off the staircase and examine their surroundings. They were rather scrunched on the landing.
"I vote for going straight in," said Lily. There was no chance of her sleeping on the top of a winding staircase in front of the door.
"Shh, the bloody portraits might wake up," whispered Sirius. "If they do, Merlin knows what a racket they'll make."
"We can sleep on the floor," said Remus in a quiet voice. "It's pretty cold in this barmy castle and I doubt there's a roaring fire inside the office."
"Shouldn't we knock and ask if Dumbledore's there first?" asked Lily.
"No," said James, finally speaking up. "Then those idiots on the walls are sure to wake up. We'll go in and sit down if he's not there."
"I'll be sleeping in his personal chair, thank you very much," whispered Sirius quickly.
"Dammit, Padfoot," muttered James. "That's the best chair there."
"I'll get the visitor's chair," Peter whispered.
James appeared distinctly displeased. He and Remus exchanged a look.
"I guess it's the carpet for us then, Prongs. Us and…"
"Me," sighed Lily. "Fine. Do we have sleeping bags or something?"
"I have the Invisibility Cloak," supplied James. "But it's dead thin for a stone floor, even with a carpet."
"And I'll not be trod on by Padfoot in the middle of the night because he's too stupid to realize where I am," reminded Remus. Sirius gave a snort of sneer.
"Moony, shut up. We might as well all sleep on the floor for the warmth, or we could let you try and be funny for an hour or so to heat up the room with some nice hot air."
"Now kids," whispered Lily, laughing softly. Anticipation was winding through her at the nature of this fantastical situation. It was so daringly unlike something Lily Evans would do. Lily Evans pre-James Potter that is.
Without asking permission, Lily quietly pushed the oaken door open.
The portraits were all snoozing already, some in various articles of nightwear including night caps and ear plugs. A witch with a large nose was wearing blindfolds that moved whenever she let out a particularly loud snore. Dumbledore was not there. Lily had not expected him to be.
Wordlessly, James lay down with his back against the carved desk. He looked around for something to Transfigure into a sleeping bag but he did not find anything. He sighed. James was too tired to bother at conjuring up one from scratch. Remus didn't complain as he settled down too.
Peter scrambled into Dumbledore's chair with a grin at Sirius. Not wanting to be the last one standing, Lily hurriedly curled up on the floor somewhere near James' head and Remus' feet. After a moment's hesitation, Sirius made his way over to the floor as well as he forsook the visitor's chair. It took only a few moments for them to they rearrange themselves with much shushing (on Lily's part) and wrist-slapping (also on Lily's part). Saying it was a comfortable arrangement might have been a stretch, but saying it was chillingly unpleasant was wrong.
The pitter-patter drum of excitement in Lily's chest wound down into slumber. It was because this office raid—of all things she might have chosen to do after such a battle with the Slytherins—was the most teenaged of Lily's life experience. Lily was born an old soul; and the life of Lily Evans did not contain many actions that she would seriously consider not revealing to anyone. This was one of them. She was really inducted into the Marauder family now as certain snoring noises cropped up around her. Lily even managed not to be upset at James for acting queerly like a child earlier. The breathing of the others dispelled all of her twisted thoughts of the Slytherins and Rosier and the Death Eaters. One by one, each dropped off.
When Albus Dumbledore shuffled into his study that next morning, his heart skipped a beat. It was just before full dawn and the east-facing windows cast a pink light over a huddle of bodies on his carpet. Dead bodies, in all likelihood, and Dumbledore's hand went to his wand just as fast as his mind had fastened onto his greatest fear. He was still in his dressing gown and nightcap.
After a moment's reflection, Dumbledore relaxed. Peter Pettigrew was snoring loudly. The bright mass of Lily Evans' hair was feathered around her face, which was cushioned on the stomach of James Potter. The Potter in question was on his side with his legs splayed over those of Remus Lupin, whose knee was directly against Sirius Black's spine. Remus was wheezing softly in his sleep and every time James exhaled, a plume of Lily's hair quavered in the air.
Fawkes the phoenix fluttered to his perch and gave Dumbledore a look as if to say that he had been foolish to fear the worst. Dumbledore supposed that the phoenix, as usual, had been right.
"Should I wake them now, Fawkes, and leave them forever with the image of my nightwear?" mused Dumbledore, patting the bird's head. Fawkes gave him a tiresome look. None of this would be a problem if Dumbledore had not had a great, early-morning craving for a square of nougat from his stash in his top desk drawer. Try persuading the Board of Governors to relax the restrictions on the Summoning Charm between the Headmaster's office and sleeping quarters, but then, there you go. That was the real predicament because all security had its sugary price.
Fawkes' beak poked Dumbledore's elbow. Albus removed his nightcap and placed it on his desk. The Headmaster went over to Peter and prodded his gently on the shoulder.
"Peter," he said. "Peter, Peter. Wake up."
Peter Pettigrew laboriously opened one sleepy eye. All he saw in the dim, streaky light was an impossibly tall silhouette with two sharp glints of sliver for eyes and a hideous demon in the form of a bird of fire at his right hand. Peter screamed and the four students at the foot of the desk woke in a flurry of thrashing limbs and swearing.
As Peter fell out of the chair and Sirius bashed his head against the desk, Dumbledore took his seat pleasantly. While James felt around frantically for his glasses that Remus had been sleeping on, Dumbledore conjured his morning cup of hot cocoa. When Lily caught sight of the state of her robes (inadvertently pushed up to her knees) and shrieked and tried to straighten them, Dumbledore swiftly hid his hand-knitted nightcap in an open desk drawer. The Headmaster was fastidiously adding cream to his saucer just as James, Sirius and Remus pulled themselves to their feet and Lily right after them. Peter scrambled clear over to the other side of the desk; and they were all shaking, breathing hard, and watching Dumbledore apprehensively.
"Good morning," he said calmly, dabbing at his lips with his napkin after taking a creamy sip of chocolate. "I trust you all slept well?"
The portraits were all awake by now with as much confusion as the students. Phineas Nigellus, an unctuous portrait well-known to the Marauders as a particular bane of their early nighttime wanderings, was glaring daggers while straightening his cravat. A gimpy old wizard was crying out something about betrayal and espionage while Armando Dippet kept repeating that nothing, but nothing, was the matter. It was a witch with a thick sort of wand who sorted everything out in a few minutes. Dumbledore sat complacently while paintings and people alike got their bearings.
"I assume that you all wanted to see me?" asked Dumbledore pleasantly. James and Sirius exchanged a look. They both nodded. Dumbledore magicked an extra four chairs from the air and the five sat down uncomfortably.
"Chocolate?"
James shook his head.
"Professor," he began. "I know what this looks like, but let me—"
"James, my dear boy, it's good that you do because I have absolutely no idea as to what this looks like," interrupted Dumbledore. "If you'll pardon the interruption, allow me to say that I draw no conclusions. I'm pretty sure that's what worries you. Quite on the contrary, actually, I'm interested in what you have to say."
This was the type of response that everyone should have expected but no one had (Remus and Lily might have, though. They were not yet so used to be disciplined by teachers as to expect it.). Dumbledore clasped his hands together and waited as if James had just asked for help with an Arithmancy problem and was about the state the variables.
"Well…" James' throat was curiously dry; he cleared it. "Sir, we've been here since last night…"
"I think he got that bit, Prongs," said Sirius as he covered his yawning mouth. James ignored Sirius and took a moment for decision.
"Professor, Evan Rosier is a Death Eater," said James. Every head turned towards him. James was not sure that this was the best way to ease the Headmaster into the situation, but he was never good with graceful subtly. At any rate, it was all he could do not to bang the whole thing out in one rambling shot. "He told us last night, and the Slytherins bragged about the entire thing and threatened us. That was why all those first years were being bullied. It was the Slytherins' idea of proving themselves. We had a pretty bad time of it but it wasn't our fault because they wanted us to go there at night anyway."
Only the hint of surprise touched Dumbledore's eyes at this news though he put down his cup hard. Lily had the shrewd feeling that Dumbledore was surprised not so much at the nature of this news as of the timing.
"Who was there, you say?"
"Rosier, Wilkes, Travers, and Regulus Black," supplied Sirius promptly. Both James and Dumbledore looked at Sirius with surprise. Sirius shrugged and gave James a small nod.
"And what did they do to you?"
"Threatened us with half-arse—sorry, Professor—er… they told us some feeble type threats," finished James lamely. "Mostly Rosier mouthing off about how powerful Voldemort is. Turns out we weren't quite keen on their news, you know… so they didn't manage to tell us much…"
"Though naturally you could have surmised the rest of their arguments," said Dumbledore neatly.
James looked at Dumbledore with a blank expression. He had given absolutely no thought to what Rosier might have said if he had not been dangled unceremoniously in the air. What was the point of revealing that he was a Death Eater?
"It's seems kind of thick, really," said James slowly. "He must have known what we would do after all…"
Dumbledore continued gently.
"You five students, then, came to alert me? And then you wound up sleeping on my carpet."
Every face blushed.
"Erm, yeah," answered James. "We wanted to wait for you but we knew we'd fall asleep, so we—" What? Slept together? Laid together? What's a good way of making this sound reasonable?
"For warmth and all," said Peter timidly, "since the castle is drafty and we didn't have a chance to get blankets without the disturbing the portraits."
"Of course," answered Dumbledore delicately, ignoring the fact that it was May. "The stones are a bit chilly at night. I myself have been locked out of my room quite a number of times, left to wait for a kindly House Elf to admit me."
"Really?" asked Peter with interest. Sirius looked askance.
"Anyhow, Professor, we thought you might want to know about the Death Eaters," Sirius prompted. Dumbledore leaned back and twisted his fingers thoughtfully.
"You'll have to forgive me, Sirius, for not reacting more forcefully to this news. For some time now—although this may come as a shock to you—I have suspected Evan Rosier of being a Death Eater. Or at least, a Death Eater of sorts."
Lily did not know what to say. How could Dumbledore have known and not done anything? Why Rosier was still in Hogwarts was a mystery to Lily. James asked her question for her.
"Then why is he still here?" demanded James hotly.
"What would you have me do, James?" asked Dumbledore with well-practiced patience. "Send him out of school so that he could be united with his master? Should I expel him, and for what reason? Even now, not everyone accepts the Death Eaters as the terror organization that it is. If I expelled Evan Rosier from Hogwarts, it would be abandoning him to Voldemort forever—"
Peter winced at the name and Sirius cuffed him on the shoulder with annoyance. Meanwhile—as might be expected—James was furious.
"What? Abandon him? He'd run off right now if he had the brains to manage it! Rosier needs coddling like I need a good dose of Avada Kedavra, Professor! How could you even think that he—"
"Please," said Dumbledore sharply. "No one your age, James, who would join the Death Eaters has any real mind of his or her own. Think of it. What type of people would devote everything, their powers, their talents, and even their lives, to one wizard?"
James opened his mouth to say something and then he closed it again. Dumbledore went on with emotion.
"Those are the people we must reach out to the most! They need help. They might yet be saved! Evan Rosier might have moved on, perhaps, and he might have forsaken everything we teach here. But there must always be a chance that he will come back, even if it is only after Voldemort calls him to sacrifice more than his own limbs in service to the Death Eaters.
"If this seems doubtful to you, count the people there. Severus Snape, James, did not number among them. Severus has a past that is conducive to violence and cruelty, but he was not there. He did not threaten you or the first year students. He, against all hope, against all likelihood, might yet fight his situation to stand with us against Voldemort. It is this sort of case that stops my hand from signing Evan's expulsion letter. We may one day be at the end of our respective ropes, holding on by a thread, only to be carried home by him."
Lily's eyes were filled with tears, but she was the only one. James was struggling very hard not to argue with Dumbledore over this new point. The only reason Snape wasn't there is because he's not thick enough to throw in his lot with them while Dumbledore is only a shout away. He needs exterminating, not saving.
"Sir?" asked Lily tentatively. "Why…why would Rosier tell us that he was a Death Eater, though? I mean...was he trying to impress us? Or intimidate us? He's not so stupid as to not know who we would go to first, is he?"
"Perhaps he thought that you would be prevented from going to me from fear, Lily," said Dumbledore, "although I have the suspicions that he was not thinking so clearly about the situations that would follow his announcement."
Dumbledore sighed.
"There's only one reason that makes sense. Recruitment. I'd have to imagine that if you had waited longer, they would have issued you an invitation."
"Us?" exclaimed Remus.
"The Death Eaters?" cried Peter.
Sirius and James laughed rudely.
"Honestly, Professor," said James, "Rosier would have to be going spare, don't you think, to ask us to be Death Eaters? We hate Dark Magic."
"And you're the best students in this school," said Dumbledore. "Consider it, James. Would Voldemort tell his latest initiates to pull a foolish prank on the first year students? Of course not. Voldemort is not a leader to give to-the-letter directions, James. He spreads ideas, and that is why he can always punish someone for not carrying them out to his liking.
"If I am not much mistaken, Voldemort wanted to see if James Potter—son of a notoriously liberal pureblood family and talented in his own right—would turn to Dark Magic along with his best friend, who is one of the last holdouts in the Black family. Remus and Peter would have been no small addition to the force either. Remus would be even more valuable if Voldemort knew about his condition.
"You would all be able to provide valuable information about Hogwarts and my own dealings with the Ministry. Naturally, it would not be a symbiotic relationship. Voldemort would use you for all you are worth until you gave yourself totally to his service. Most likely, had you joined up with Evan Rosier, the Death Eaters would have killed Lily right there at the first meeting and tortured any objectors."
The skin on Lily's face was clammy and probably white; she reached for James' hand. It was shaking. Dumbledore would not say something like that so lightly.
"Then what do we do?" asked Sirius angrily, in a quiet voice. James noticed that all of the portraits had been "asleep" through the entire conversation, apart from the fact that each had one eyelid cracked open.
Dumbledore stirred the remnants of his cocoa.
"You can get some sleep, and come to my office this evening with anyone you think feels as strongly as you do. N.E.W.T.s start Wednesday, I believe; and although I'm sure you have completed all your studying already I don't want to take any more of your valuable time. I'm going to leave you with these papers," said Dumbledore as he tapped a desk drawer with his wand. He pulled out first a fuzzy nightcap (quickly stuffed back into the drawer) and then a sheaf of blank parchment. Swirling his wand in a complicated way, he tapped the stack of paper twice. Letters bloomed from his wand, and a heading of brilliant orange and gold and red inks topped the page.
"The Order of the Phoenix?" asked Lily, puzzled. Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes. For any witches or wizards who are prepared for action."
"Sir?" asked Peter. "Should you really…er, well, be giving this to us? I mean, you're our teacher and all… Is this allowed?"
Dumbledore laughed kindly.
"I feel the Ministry is very selective in what it approves or disapproves of, Peter. No, probably this is not allowed. I beg you to consult these papers in private and only pass them along to students of seventh year whom you suspect would be interested. And I have two closing comments. The first is a question: how did you manage to end the discussion in the dungeons?"
"Erm… we managed to physically…ah, convince them that we weren't interested," said James.
"Actually, Sirius used his remarkable ability to make everyone feel like shit—oh." Remus colored badly. "I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore."
"Moony!" said Sirius, surprised. "I believe that Prongs and I swear in front of the administration, not you."
"No," said James with a smile, "Remus only does it on accident; and he'll be embarrassed for years to come from now."
Remus was still bright red as Dumbledore nodded briskly.
"Excellent. As long as no one was hexed too badly and Madam Pomfrey won't need to be involved, we may keep the whole of this incident quiet with the faculty. We are at my second point, then; and this I say mostly for Lily's benefit.
"I am not sure to what degree you are informed of the life of Evan Rosier—whom I believe is the first student of your year to become a Death Eater—but let me share some important information. He is not a pure-blooded, but pretends almost languorously to be. His parents are wealthy, titled in a Muggle fashion, and completely susceptible to the slightest suggestions about how they should live their lives. The elder Rosier is weak-willed, or what you students might call a white-faced wally. The mother is fantastically wrapped up in herself. Evan Rosier is in Slytherin because he cares only for himself, for his own wants and desires."
Lily did not think that she would ever forget Dumbledore's calling Rosier a "white-faced wally." From the snigger in James' face, he wouldn't either. Dumbledore breezed onwards.
"It may come as a shock to you, but Rosier is also a marvelous student of Potions," said the Headmaster. The Marauders exchanged looks. Lily and Snape were the best Potions students with no competition. Rosier, as far as they knew, never received an outstanding comment in his life.
"Yes, it is so," confirmed Dumbledore. "Even as he is brash and headstrong in personality, Rosier nevertheless possesses keen accuracy and patience in his studies. If he feels the subject matter is worthy, he will do and do and do the lesson until he learns it. Stubbornness, you know, often follows both Gryffindors and Slytherins. Rosier may not effortlessly command magic as you all do, but he is persistent. Every teacher agrees on that. Why do you have such an expression of awe on your face, Remus?"
Surprised, Remus closed his mouth and shrugged.
"I…er…it's just unexpected to me that you know so much about the students here, Professor," he said.
"Well, it is only my job," smiled Dumbledore graciously. "But all that aside, we have not yet hit the point. In theory, Evan would be the perfect brewer of Potions. He is mechanical and meticulous in his preparation and down to the minute in the stewing. Then why is he not top of the N.E.W.T. class and above Lily and Severus?"
Dumbledore leaned forward conspiratorially.
"Because Evan does not use strong magic," he said, almost urgently. "His potions are weak although they are well made. He does not let the heart of his magic enter into his creations, and that is why he scrapes by his practical exams! He does not know how to be passionate about anything, or how to love anything for its own sake! That is a weakness, a grave weakness. And it will only lead him in a circle of venom for the Muggleborn girl who should be worse than he is at everything and is instead ten times better. Or who should be unpopular and has many close friends. Or who should be ugly and is instead quite lovely. I imagine that you, Lily, have been causing considerable discord this year. Rosier cannot consider two sides to any issue, even the issue of magical blood. He hates you for what he is not and he will not bring himself to strive for any better because that would mean admitting his failings."
Dumbledore straightened and stood up totally, effectively ending the meeting. Quietly, James, Sirius, Lily, Remus, and Peter filed out of the room. Their heads swarmed with different thoughts that buzzed like the bees in a garden.
…
That night, there was quite a crowd in the Headmaster's office. The portraits were most disapproving. Dumbledore sat tapping his quill against his desk.
"And your answers?" he asked. "Will you, upon leaving Hogwarts, join the Order of the Phoenix?"
"Yes," proclaimed James Potter while ready to leap out of the school that instant and fight Voldemort. He squeezed Lily's hand affirmingly. She smiled and squeezed back.
"Yes," answered Lily Evans, with pride for herself and for the brave men and women around her (especially the one gripping her fingers tightly).
"Yes," said Sirius Black, knowing that he could banish the ghosts of his family.
"Yes," said Remus Lupin with no small shudder on the inside.
"Yes," said Peter Pettigrew, feeling that no one could get to him now.
"Yes," said Emmeline Vance, standing alongside her fiancé.
"Yes," said Caradoc Dearborn, eyes full of patriotism.
"Yes," said Benjy Fenwick.
"Yes," said Marlene McKinnon.
"Yes," said Dorcas Meadows.
"And so it is done!" said Dumbledore in a mighty voice. "The Order of the Phoenix welcomes you into their ranks this very summer."
No one spoke. Dumbledore gave a tiny grin and the enchantment was broken. He spoke in a normal voice.
"I suppose you ten believe that this was my way of taking the pressure of N.E.W.T.s off. No fear now, eh?"
Finally, there we are. Possibly the longest chapter there is. Sorry about the wait, everyone, but now that the school year's ending I finally have time to write. Feedback is requested and unsolved questions are welcomed.
THANK YOU ALL A SUPER LOT