A/N: Next part here! I hope you enjoy, as this is where things start to get dicey. Happy reading!
Chapter 6:
Lily was relieved when she saw a golden light filtering ahead of them. They had been walking long enough now that she sincerely doubted that they were still on Hogwart's grounds. "So this is where you sneak around to?" she whispered to James as they kept on walking. He snickered, but didn't refute the conclusion she had come to. Lily imagined that this wasn't the only secret passageway that the Marauders discovered and utilized.
"Are you okay, Harry?" The young boy hadn't spoken since they had been ensconced in James' Invisibility Cloak together, and his silence was unnerving to her.
"I'm fine," he responded lightly.
But Lily still felt a pang of guilt. She knew that she and James had a tendency to get a little absorbed in their own action when they were arguing. It was a subject of mockery for both of their sets of friends, especially when Lily protested that she was nothing but completely indifferent to Potter. But she couldn't seem to make it stop. Her focus was entirely out of her control when James was around. He demanded her attention and she instinctively reacted to that by giving it to him—negatively, but it didn't change the fact that everything else fell into the backdrop.
There was a desire—one to ensure that she didn't ignore Harry. The reason for this compulsion was utterly lost on her, but so were the other strange emotions and physical reactions to Harry's presence that were weighing on her and on James…
It turned out that the golden light was Honeyduke's Sweetshop. And Harry actually gasped as he encountered the explosion of confections and other bright, colorful, edible things. Lily had forgotten that first-years (if Harry really was one) weren't able to go into Hogsmeade. James prodded them over to an empty aisle and pulled the cloak off of them, wrapping it up and tucking it back into his robes. No one was the wiser.
Harry was still turning about the store, his jaw fairly scraping the floor, and Lily and James couldn't help but exchange smiles at his childish excitement.
"Do you want anything?" they asked simultaneously, and Harry looked shocked at both their question and their synchronicity.
"Well, I…" he flushed a little and something about that troubled her. It was almost like he wasn't used to being offered things, like the very question made him terribly uncomfortable. Again, she remembered how he had phrased the only reference to his origins: I was raised by Muggles…
James, of course also sensing his unease, jumped right in. He shunted Harry around the shop, pulling random candy off the shelves and running a pitch for each like a used-car salesman. "Nah, little bloke…don't try the Acid Pops. Here, have a cockroach cluster. If for nothing else but to disgust Evans."
Rolling her eyes, Lily pulled a box of chocolate-covered insects off the shelf too, and handed tossed them to James. "Here, big guy. You're buying."
With a smirk at her cheek, James went to the counter to purchase their loot, and Lily was left alone with Harry, who still looked mildly embarrassed at the small fuss. "Harry, you know before you said that you were…raised by Muggles. I just…it made me wonder…"
The dark-haired boy swallowed audibly, but Lily pressed on, feeling that she needed to know this. "Do you live with your parents…or are they…?" She was hoping he would fill in the blanks, since she didn't know what she had planned to say at the end of that sentence.
"It's quite a long story," Harry finally answered her. The silence in between was agonizing and she felt her sympathy for him compounding as they stood there, and again there was the frustrating downside of not knowing why she was feeling that. Whatever was going on with him and this mirror couldn't be his fault. There was no sense of maliciousness or manipulation or even stupidity from him. But James was making his way over before she could interrogate him any further.
"Here, love. Tuck in." He passed her the cockroach clusters and gave Harry his own little bag. "Now we're off."
He moved towards the entrance, but Lily planted her feet and waited until James realized that she wasn't following. "And where exactly are we off to?"
"Awww, Evans," James whined, coming back over to tug at her arm. "Don't be prickly and just come on! Do you think I would take you anywhere questionable when the little bloke is with us?"
"Potter, just tell me where we're going."
"But if I do that, you might run off," he admitted and she dug her feet in again.
"Potter. Where are we going?!"
"Just trust me on this, Evans." At her unconvinced expression, he turned for support. "Harry does, look." He winked at the boy, who shrugged and nodded.
"Sure."
And Lily made a concession for the boy's acquiescence, nothing else. However, all of her misgivings came roaring back when she realized where they were headed. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no way, Potter! Are you mad?"
The rickety, darkened house was just in sight and James gave her a small smile, not-so-properly chastened by her angry exclamation. "Lily, we aren't going inside, alright? Just…you know, sitting on the porch or something. Relax."
Her eyes bugged out twice as big as they normally were, and though it wasn't a particularly attractive look, James still found himself marveling at the green of them. "The porch?! James Potter, you need your head examined if you think I am going within thirty feet of that haunted death trap." James started advancing on her, grinning and she took a few steps backward, slightly frightened of the look in his eye. "Oh, come on, Potter! Don't tell me that you haven't heard the bloody noises around here. Ask anyone in Hogsmeade!"
"Don't tell me you're scared, Evans." He closed in like a predator, belying his soothing words. "I won't let anything get to you…"
"I won't be letting anything get to me because I'm not going over there!"
"Never say never," James scolded before leaping over to her and throwing her over his shoulder in one, smooth motion borne of his excellent, Quidditch-honed reflexes. Lily screamed as she was hoisted into the air.
"Potter, I've never been more serious in my life, let me GO." She slapped his back angrily and he tsk-tsked her before glancing back at their young spectator.
"Well, c'mon then, Harry… we're wasting daylight."
Positioned as she was, Lily couldn't get to her wand, so she settled for beating relentlessly on James' back, who paid absolutely no notice to her assault. "Potter, put me down, you bleeding tosser! I'm going to murder you!"
"Evans, don't yell about killing people so loudly. People are going to get the wrong idea."
"Oh right, but carrying off a screaming woman is going to give people the right idea? James, I swear if you move past the gate of that property, it will be the last thing you do in your stupid life!"
"At least I'll get to go while gazing into the beautiful, murderous eyes of the girl I've fancied for years," he replied, jostling to keep her from slipping to one side. "Or a mean ol' ghostie." She aimed a particularly vicious kick to a sensitive area and he narrowly avoided it. "Hey! Watch the family jewels, Evans!"
"You're not going to need reproductive organs where you're going, Potter." The struggle was leaving her slightly out-of-breath. "Don't worry."
After a moment, she renewed her struggles, sensing that they were very close to the property. This time, James sobered, having as much difficulty keeping a hold of her as he would have a scalded cat. "Okay, okay Evans…can I tell you something?"
She paused and glanced behind him at Harry, who had been following them the entire time, and looked nonplussed at the conversation, but didn't make a comment on it. "Fine, Potter. What?"
"I solemnly swear that the Shrieking Shack is NOT haunted."
To that, she flounced once like a fish on dry land and whacked him again on the back, letting him know exactly what she thought of his "word".
"You have got to do better than that, Potter."
This time, he gently set her down, seriously enough that her expression lost some of its heated anger. And he looked down at her as she looked up, and he leaned in as if imparting a secret to her. "Evans… I've been in the Shrieking Shack before, okay? It's not haunted." She looked about to object, but he raised a hand to stem her protests. "I know exactly the reason why people hear noises sometimes, but I can promise you that nothing will happen to us for sitting outside of it. And if we're here, then nobody will happen by because everybody's already bloody terrified of it. It's perfect."
"Brilliant," Lily said unenthusiastically. She raised an eyebrow at him. "And you know it isn't haunted how? And you've been inside how? It's all blocked off, Potter." She gestured sharply to the dilapidated house, all shuttered up without a single opening to infiltrate.
"Evans, that's kinda like my Invisibility Cloak. Need-to-know."
"Well then I need-to-know," she emphasized her point by poking him in the chest, and he snatched her hand before she could pull away, squeezing it once.
"No, you don't." His hazel eyes were dark with warning and she decided to let the issue die. She may have been eternally fed-up with James' bullying ways and his showboating, but there was no question that he possessed an incredible sense of nobility and courage. He was the best of Gryffindor as much as he could sometimes be the worst. She got the feeling that he was protecting someone. And James was an uncompromising friend.
"Alright, James." She tugged once, and he released her caught hand, smiling for a second at her, because she had backed off.
This was the first time that she had ever realized that there was a difference between a grinning James Potter and a smiling James Potter. He grinned when he made her mad, or when he was amused by something stupid, or Sirius had just done something that only Sirius would do.
But he smiled—genuinely, full-on smiled sometimes when he looked at her. She caught it this time, and everything about him was so nice in that instant, that she couldn't help but put a hand on his chest, right over his beating heart, patting it gently. And she laughed a little when it tapped a more frantic rhythm underneath her fingers.
"Alright, Evans," he said, and he was still smiling.
{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
"It seems that Black decided to celebrate the absence of his partner-in-crime today in the dungeons by setting off an explosion of three Slytherin cauldrons." Professor McGonagall came straight to Dumbledore's office over lunch to report the most recent developments, namely the disappearance of Lily Evans and James Potter. Rumors as ludicrous as elopement or James finally went mad and kidnapped the woman he loved (McGonagall made no attempt to disguise rolling her eyes when she heard that one) were running rampant.
"And you always say, Minerva, Mr. Black and Mr. Potter are diabolic when together." Dumbledore inclined his head. "But I've always gotten the sense that they are far more troublesome apart. Lack of stimulation can lead to disastrous consequences."
McGonagall's lips pressed together as she watched Dumbledore serenely stir his tea while examining some letter from the new Head of the Department of Magical Education. "I don't understand it, Albus. Aren't you at all concerned that Potter and Evans have absconded with the boy?"
"Their son?" Dumbledore responded, not removing his eyes from the letter. "My dear Minerva, I'll admit that I would have preferred that Harry keep his identity away from Mr. Potter and Ms. Evans. However," he did look up then. "I will also confess that I expected that this might happen."
"Well, naturally, but that doesn't mean it cannot be prevented." McGonagall sniffed. "If we just allowed the students to do whatever—"
"But this isn't a matter for the school, Minerva. And can the boy really learn anything if Lily and James are not aware that they are his parents?"
McGonagall finally took a seat and crossed her arms, surveying Dumbledore's desk without interest. "I suppose that depends on what he is here to learn." Her gaze turned more inquisitive. "And that is still relying on the supposition that the boy really is their son from a future time, which I have my reservations about."
Dumbledore sighed, unruffled by her doubts, but set his letter down to give her his full attention.
"I do not know the origins of the Mirror of Erised, but I do believe that we have only scratched the surface of its rather astonishing qualities, as my dear friend pointed out to me only months ago."
The corners of McGonagall's lips just barely turned up. "And does Mairead know the…ah, the entire story?"
"She certainly does," Dumbledore said with a pleasant smile. "I'm under no impression that she believes everything that I tell her, but I daresay that I entertain her enough that she has put up with my odd little turns." He inclined his head graciously to the other person in the room, as she did much the same. "But one thing that Mairead did mention to me is that the object has no trace of Dark Magic upon it, which I had already guessed at. But a symptom of a pure object is that it will tend to honor individuals with a similar purity. Something within the deepest recesses of the heart."
After his words, the room fell into a pensive silence as McGonagall lingered over that thought. The contemplation of war—that her own students would have children who would experience the effects of it in some form or another. And there were heroes who walked these very halls right now, who had no care beyond passing their OWLs or getting the last piece of homework in. But she thought mostly of an orphaned eleven-year old boy, one she might meet some fifteen years from now, whose simple appearance would be one that would trigger memories for her of two students that had gone before him. Ones with startling green eyes, unkempt dark hair, bravery, and good hearts underneath everything.
"You seem to set store by the boy," she said quietly.
Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Yes, I may be, Minerva… I may be… but my instinct is that he might be someone quite extraordinary. And with some good fortune, his very existence might prove to be what we need to rid the world of Lord Voldemort."
{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
Lily slipped off her robe and sat it on the ground so she wouldn't muss the rest of her clothes. In only her uniform, skirt just the slightest bit provocative and blouse untucked, her hair in a messy half-ponytail, she didn't look like she could be anyone's mother. James slipped down next to her with dangerous grace and patted the grass in front of him, but Harry continued to stand.
"Pull up a chair, little bloke."
After a momentary pause, Harry grudgingly sat down too, looking from one to the other and playing nervously with his hands. "What do you wanna know?" he finally asked, compulsively dropping his gaze from them.
"We're sorry to put you on the spot like this." Lily began, wishing that he would look at her as he said this. "We just…we're very confused and if you would just give us something to go off of, maybe we could make sense of it, you know?"
Harry's response was merely a shrug. Exchanging glances, Lily and James waited him out in unspoken agreement, wanting him to lead them. But after a few long, awkward minutes, Lily reached out a put her hand over Harry's, stilling his anxious fiddling and prompting him to look up at her.
"Harry, we—" but the rest died in her throat as she read his expression. In it was infinite, intense sadness, like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. But when she stopped speaking, he understood what she had seen in him and swallowed twice, trying to force all of it back down.
Without any notion of what she was doing, Lily's arms came around Harry's thin shoulders and she hugged him tightly. It occurred automatically, a desperate urge to give this boy comfort. Why was he so sad and so quiet?
"I'm sorry," she muttered emotionally, apologizing for everything that she could imagine had happened to make him look like that, and the things she couldn't. "Please don't look like that."
At first he accepted her embrace without moving, but after a moment, she felt the slight pressure of his hands, tentative on her back and then firm and trusting. She didn't look back over at James or even wonder at what he could be thinking at this sudden burst of weirdness, but she didn't care. She had this irrepressible desire to make things better for Harry, though she knew nothing about him or his life. She just wanted it to be…better. And the desire caught in her throat, nearly making her tear up.
Harry pulled away eventually, shaking his young head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset…"
"You haven't upset us," James said. He gave him a little grin, trying to relax some of the energy that was filling the space between them. "We're just feelin' a bit out of our element, if you know what I mean. And maybe you could help us out."
Harry nodded, the set of his lips slightly apologetic. "This was an accident. I didn't mean…" he blinked at both of them, as if he was trying to figure something out. "I didn't mean to use the mirror like I did."
"Right, the mirror," James said. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and eyed Harry intently. Now they may have been getting somewhere. "Explain the mirror to us." He glanced sideways at Lily as she shifted a little further back, relaxing her posture. "Alright, Lily?"
"Yeah," she shook her head, and James put a hand on her shoulder with concern. "Just woozy for a moment. Don't bother about me." She shifted back into her original position to accentuate her words and fixed Harry with a business-like look. "So, the mirror," she prompted.
"Okay," Harry said. "One night at school, I found it in an empty classroom. I wasn't supposed to be there. It's kind of a..." he paused, reluctant to go on, but James and Lily waited and would have kept waiting until he spoke. He sighed. "It's special. It doesn't show you your reflection or anything like that."
"What does it show you?"
"Dumbledore said that a man who had everything would look into the mirror and see himself, just as he was." Harry ducked his head a moment, sheepish. "He caught me at the mirror one night. Told me not to go looking for it again."
"So, I'm a little lost," Lily interrupted, her brow furrowed. "The mirror shows you everything you don't have…what you want?"
"It shows us…" Harry clearly didn't want to continue, which meant that he was going to reveal something very telling. They waited, breathing hitched in anticipation. "It shows us our heart's desire. The one thing we want most in the world."
"Which is why you kept going back." James guessed. A wind kept tugging his glasses down his nose, he and Harry both pushed their respective spectacles up at the same time, and they grinned at each other, sharing something. Lily breathed a laugh and James was caught staring again as he watched the wind dance in her unruly hair. She pushed at his jaw, forcing him to face away from her.
"Focus, Potter," she said teasingly.
James smirked, but obeyed and the brief moment of camaraderie faded. "My apologies. Go on, Harry."
"Well, what else do you want to know?" Harry said, trying to buy himself more time.
"What happened next?" Lily asked patiently, the vestiges of her sympathy for the boy still hiding in the back of her mind.
"Well…this is where it gets a little hazy," Harry admitted. "I was still staring at the mirror. Dumbledore had already gone, and I was standing in front of it…" He looked down at his hands, lost in memory. "I don't know why I didn't listen to him…but I put my hands on the glass." He balled them, his hands, clenching and unclenching like a frustrated little boy. "I wanted it so badly, though." His voice nearly a whisper in the wind, James and Lily scooted a little closer.
"What did you want?" Lily said softly. "What did you see in the mirror?"
His expression cleared, and his hands flattened on his thighs, banishing the moment with the mirror. "It doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters. It's why you're here, isn't it?" James exclaimed. Harry couldn't argue with that. "You have to tell us what you saw."
"I don't think Professor Dumbledore would want me to—"
"Harry, I'm all about obeying those in authority usually," James said. Lily snorted, and even Harry had to raise an eyebrow. "But, I'm not about to go about school with these headaches and thoughts and bleeding feelings that get so…so much that I can't even think straight! And neither is she." He jerked his head at the girl next to him, and she had to nod her head in commiseration. She didn't want to cause Harry pain, but she really believed that he might feel better if he just told them how he had gotten here.
"We've got to figure this out. So you have to tell us," he glowered at Harry slightly, demanding the truth, "what you saw in that mirror."
"Please, Harry," Lily added.
There was a long stretch of nothing after that. And they watched as Harry drew up his knees and clasped his arms around him, huddled there. He was again denying them eye contact. Finally, he dropped his forehead down and mumbled something, one word, into his knees.
"What?" they said in unison. James was beginning to grow impatient.
"Come on, little bloke. Tell us what you saw. We're not leaving here until you do."
Harry exhaled long and hard, defeated. But finally, he raised his head from his legs and looked at them. "Fine…I'll tell you. But you can't let it…affect anything. You can't let it change anything."
"What do you mean?" James said, not calm enough to bother to work out a puzzle right now. And Lily was inclined to agree. "Just tell us already. I swear, we'll be fine once you tell us, okay? Nothing is going to change."
"Harry," Lily said, trying to keep her voice gentle. "You're safe with us. You can tell us."
"You."
James nodded. "Yeah, us. You're safe with us."
Harry shook his head, his face looking a little pale. "No, I meant what I saw in the mirror. It was you."
A/N: Before you shoot me for that, review and let me know what you think. I'll get the next part up faster, if I can. Happy Cliffhanger Saturday.
