Wednesday, March 29, 1978
Rain hung heavy in the air as Lily led her dog along the path to the park. She glanced up at the ominous gray clouds, then drew her jacket tighter around herself and continued toward the swing set, picking her way around empty beer cans and crisps wrappers. Ahead she saw a hunched figure, his dark strands of hair blowing around his face. Even before she drew close enough to recognize him, a squirm of discomfort twisted her stomach, followed by an unwelcome twinge of something else.
"What are you doing here?" she asked as she let Duncan off the leash and sat down on the middle swing. When they were kids she had always taken this one. She claimed it went the highest, although she later found out it was her magic that propelled her impossibly high.
"I could ask you the same question," he sneered, turning away as Duncan sniffed him and attempted to lick his hand. "You're not shagging Potter somewhere or taking cozy little rides on his broom or sitting in his mansion while his bloody house elves serve you snacks?"
She sighed and swung herself gently back and forth. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Sev." The nickname had fallen from her lips without her permission, and she looked away, suddenly self-conscious.
"I'm not jealous," he spat, apparently unaffected by her use of the nickname. "I don't give a fuck what you do. If you want to waste your time dating that tosser, that's your prerogative."
She dragged her feet on the ground and looked at him, her green eyes boring into his. "It's been two years. Why do you still sound so angry?"
His eyes narrowed and his lips curled; Lily recognized his tell that meant he didn't want to admit she was right.
"Why are you bothering to talk to me?" He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, daring her to call him out for ignoring her question. "I thought you weren't going to speak to me ever again because you disapprove of my friends and everything I stand for."
She glared back at him, remembering the hot anger that had coursed through her when she had shouted at him last summer in this same park. Then he had been apologetic, pleading for her to overlook his obvious Death Eater involvement so they could resume their friendship. Now he was all defiant scowls, his dark eyes flashing as he challenged and criticized and once again refused to pet her bloody dog. Fucking git.
"I thought you weren't going to talk to me anymore," she shot back, dodging his question just as he had dodged hers. "You said you weren't going to waste your time talking to a filthy Mudblood who hangs around with your least favorite people."
He didn't flinch when she said that word. His expression didn't change at all, and in fact he gave no indication that he'd even heard. Somehow this apathy hurt more than him actually hurling the word at her.
"I guess we're at an impasse, then," he muttered, turning away and sitting down in the grass a few feet away. Duncan approached Severus and sniffed him, tail wagging, but the dog gave up and wandered back to Lily when he realized he wasn't going to get any attention. Lily stroked Duncan's ears as she studied that long, dark hair and guarded posture, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. It would be so easy to stand up and go back home. She could retreat to her bedroom and brood about how angry she was at her former best friend, staring at the ceiling as she wondered how she could have trusted him with her innermost secrets. She could write a letter to James, detailing her frustrations, as she had after her encounter with Severus the previous summer. It was for the best – what good could come of continuing the conversation? Yet she found herself standing up and crossing the patchy grass to sit beside him on the damp ground.
At first he said nothing, only stared down his hooked nose at her while a light breeze lifted the loose strands of hair around her face. A dog barked in the distance, and over by the swingset, Duncan pricked up his ears. In the road beside the park, a car took off with a squeal of tires. A lone raindrop landed on the top of Lily's ear.
"Are you really going to try to come up with a cure? For your friend Lupin?" he asked. Some of the contempt had faded from his expression, although he spat Remus's name like a swear word.
"I haven't actually done anything yet," she admitted. "It's all just hypothetical at this point. Research. To satisfy my curiosity, really."
"But that is what all your scribbles were about?" he persisted. "When I suggested aconite, you knew what I was referring to?"
She nodded. "Don't read too much into this, because I still think you're a bigoted arsehole, but I actually think aconite is a really good idea."
His lips twitched up into a smirk. It irritated her, that little satisfied smirk that oozed smugness, yet there was a part of her buried deep under the rage and hurt and betrayal that had missed it. How many times had one of her comments elicited that same smirk from him?
"I know," he said, that smirk lingering on his lips. "I'd try it myself if I gave a toss about werewolves."
"Yes, well, I'll let you know if it works out," she snapped. The wind blew again, raising goosebumps on her skin and carrying the scent of rain. She wondered idly what James would think of her talking to Severus this way, then felt a pang of guilt for wanting to keep this a secret. He would be furious, his anger masking hurt and jealousy, but he had nothing to worry about. Did he?
"Why did you start writing me notes in the first place?" she burst out before she could talk herself out of it.
He shrugged, a sharp jerk of his shoulders that took Lily by surprise. "No idea. Temporary lapse of judgment, I suppose. That or I can't resist a potions challenge." He glanced sideways at her and added, "Why did you write back?"
She shrugged, the gesture such a perfect imitation of Severus's that he let out a snort of laughter. He was so sullen, so prone to brooding silences and disdainful curls of his lips that Lily had always swelled with pride any time she managed to coax a laugh from him. It wasn't the same as making James laugh – that boy would laugh at anything: her lamest joke, an awkward greeting, the merest double entendre. No, a laugh from Severus was a rare treat that gave Lily a deep sense of satisfaction.
"No idea. Same reason as you, I suppose."
He raised his eyebrows. "That's it?"
She looked back at him, unwavering. "That's it," she insisted. "Why, what else would it be?"
He shrugged again; Lily worried his shoulders were going to smack into his ears. "What did your boyfriend think about the aconite idea?"
Lily froze. She hadn't mentioned any of it to James – not the suggestion of aconite, or her potions research, or the notes between her and Severus. He spotted her discomfort and smirked again.
"You haven't told him," he said, his gaze taunting.
She heaved an irritated sigh. "If he knows I've been talking to you he'll want to bloody murder you, Sev. Is that what you want? Because I'm not going to defend you this time. Last time I stuck up for you, I got called a Mudblood for my troubles."
He glowered down into his lap. "I'm not scared of Potter," he muttered. "He's not even that talented."
Lily rolled her eyes. "You know that's not true. No matter how much you hate him, you have to admit he's a brilliant wizard."
Severus made a disparaging sound. "Have you seen him in Potions? No fucking imagination. Never strays from the recipe even the slightest bit." He cast a scathing look in her direction and added, "Or are you too busy feeling him up under the table to notice how mediocre his potions are?"
"Fuck you." She should leave. She should stand up and give him the two finger salute and leave, refuse to speak to him or write him even the briefest note. Instead she found herself responding, a petulant note in her voice that she hated. "He's better than you at Transfiguration. Probably at dueling, too."
He looked at her for a moment, the arch in his brows teasing her for defending James. "Big fucking deal. He and Black are McGonagall's favorites, otherwise they wouldn't do half so well in her class. And you think Potter could beat me in a duel?" His eyes flicked sideways, conveying more derision than should be possible from such a tiny movement. "He wouldn't last a minute. He's so bloody full of himself, I could probably disarm him before he even knew what was happening because he'd be too busy showing off to block properly. And there's all sorts of magic he's never bothered to learn."
Lily crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes in disgust. "Never bothered to learn – that's fucking rich, Sev. Yes, he can't do the fucking Cruciatus Curse because he's lazy and never got around to learning it. It's not that Dark Magic is evil and he doesn't want anything to do with it because he's a good person."
"He's not a good person," Severus muttered, darkness clouding his face. "He touches your hair and bangs on about protecting Muggle-borns and flashes that stupid fucking grin at you and you forget what he's really like, what you've seen him do to people he doesn't like…"
The rest of his sentence hung there, unspoken but ringing in her ears: You forget what you've seen him do to me. She recalled the humiliation and terror barely disguised by fury in Sev's eyes as he hung upside down by the lake, James's laughter echoing in her ears. She hadn't forgotten – of course she hadn't. Yet she couldn't allow herself to dwell on these memories. Her friendship with Severus was over, because he had behaved no better than James that day, his lips curling into that cruel sneer as he dismissed all those years of friendship with that one hateful word. Besides, when it really mattered, James was a good person.
"He saved your life, Sev."
His eyes made that dismissive motion – not quite a roll, because even that was more effort than Severus was willing to dedicate to James Potter. "He saved my life to protect his friends, Lily, and to convince himself he's self-sacrificing and noble instead of the arrogant shit he is. Don't fool yourself into thinking that proves he's a good person. He's not."
"Well, neither are you." Her heart pounded and her hands clenched into fists, yet she fought to keep her voice even. It drove her mad, seeing him sitting there all tranquil and impassive when she wanted to scream at him and refute every word coming out of his mouth. "I know you remember what your best mate Mulciber did to Mary. Every day I check the Prophet to see what new atrocities your friends have gotten up to – I think today it was a Muggle school in London, wasn't it? It must be frustrating, sitting around helping Slughorn make Calming Draughts when you really want to be out there murdering and torturing people–"
"Lily–"
"No," she said, raising her voice to drown him out. "Don't sit here and try to turn me against James when you're a hundred times worse. It makes me sick, the things they're doing, the things you're prepared to do. All those years we were friends? It meant nothing. It was all a fucking lie, Sev."
"No it wasn't." The disdain was gone from his voice, and his eyes were wide, pleading. "It didn't mean nothing. It…"
"It can't have meant much, otherwise you would've thought twice about joining a group of people whose main mission is killing people exactly like me." She shook her head, struggling to her feet and avoiding his eye. "You were right. I don't know why I'm bothering to talk to you." She had to get out of here before the traitorous tears fell. She couldn't let him see how much this still bothered her.
"Lily." He scrambled up and grabbed her hand. His long, spindly fingers were cool against hers, and she froze, transported back to all the summer nights they had spent sprawled on this same stretch of scrubby grass, their hands clasped together as they confessed secrets and searched for stars through the smoggy haze.
"Don't touch me, Sev," she said, snapping out of her reverie and jerking her hand away. "I'm a filthy Mudblood, remember? You don't want to get your hand dirty."
He didn't reply, just stood there with his hand still outstretched while Duncan snuffled around at his feet. In the distance, a child was crying and a car door slammed. A wave of exhaustion washed over Lily, and she wondered whether she would have the energy to walk back to her house.
"Maybe you're right," he said, his voice so faint she had to incline toward him to hear. "I'm not a good person. But at least I don't pretend I'm some saint, saving the fucking world when I'm really just as selfish as everyone else. Because when it comes down to it, we're all in it for ourselves, no matter what you tell yourself to the contrary. None of us are good people. It's just that some people are more honest about it than others."
She could still feel the spot on her hand where he had grabbed it. A second raindrop landed on her face, then a third.
"What about me?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Am I a good person?"
He shrugged, the movement more languid this time, less sharp. "You used to be."
The sky opened up, dousing her with an icy rain that mingled with her tears. She stood looking at him for another moment, chest heaving, then turned and ran across the park and back toward the road with Duncan bounding along at her heels. When she reached the edge of the path and allowed herself to glance back over her shoulder, he was still standing there, the rain drenching his lank, dark hair and dripping off his clothes.
Thursday, March 30, 1978
"What are you doing today, Padfoot?"
James sat at the small circular table in his kitchen, his two-way mirror propped against a box of cereal as he tossed a Quaffle into the air with one hand and spooned cereal into his mouth with the other. His mother would be exasperated by this behavior, but as she was somewhere upstairs for the time being, he took another bite of cereal and sent the Quaffle soaring up toward the ceiling.
"You're looking at it," Sirius said, grinning.
Through the mirror James could see Sirius lounging on his sofa, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. When he shifted position, James spotted a takeaway box on the table beside him, covered in several cigarette butts. These, he guessed, had accumulated after Mary had left for work, because she couldn't stand any sort of rubbish that wasn't properly disposed of.
"Want to take a ride on the motorbike?" James asked.
Sirius's grin widened. "Does a unicorn shit in the woods?"
"It might be a long trip," James said, laughing. "I'm not exactly sure how far away it is, but I know it's out there."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Where are we going?"
"Tell you when I get there. Meet me out in the shed in ten minutes." He tapped the mirror and broke the connection before Sirius could ask any more questions.
After scribbling a hasty note for his mother and tucking it underneath his abandoned cereal bowl, James Apparated to Sirius's flat and wandered behind the building to the little shed that housed his motorbike. Sirius was already there, lounging against the door while he admired the motorbike that stood parked beside it, gleaming in the weak morning sun.
"I brought snacks," Sirius said, patting the little storage area under the motorbike's seat. "I wasn't sure how long we'd be gone. Where are we going, by the way?"
James pulled a map from his pocket and showed Sirius the route he had plotted. Sirius traced the smudged, uneven line with his finger, his brows knitting together.
"What the hell do you want to go here for? Don't tell me you're scouting a location for your wedding. You should wait until you've actually proposed to do that, and even then, I'll save you the time and plan it for you. Just have it at Mum and Dad's, with an open bar and low-cut bridesmaids dresses. Problem solved."
James shook his head. "It's not for the wedding, although I do like the idea of having it at Mum and Dad's."
"What about the open bar?"
"Obviously," James said, laughing.
"And the low-cut bridesmaid dresses?"
James shrugged. "I don't particularly care about the bridesmaid dresses. I assume Evans does, though."
"Well, tell her not to be selfish," Sirius said, swinging his leg over the side of the motorbike to hop on. "I'll need something to look at if you sentimental sods take forever saying your vows."
James slid onto the motorbike behind Sirius. "I'll pass along the message. Anyway, we're going to a cottage I want to rent for Moony to live in."
Sirius turned around to gape at him. "What?"
"Well, he'll need somewhere to live once we leave school. We all will. He won't want to stay with his parents – he hates going there now as it is. And I don't think he'll want to live with us – He likes having his own space. And we'll need somewhere to go for the full moon that's out of the way so we can run around without getting into trouble. This cottage is next to a bloody huge forest in the middle of nowhere, or, at least, I think it is. That's why we're going to see it."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "And you think Moony's going to let you pay his rent?"
"Fuck no," James said, laughing. "Why do you think I'm doing it behind his back? That way it's already paid for, so refusing to live there would just be wasting my money and a perfectly good cottage." He ran a hand through his hair, imagining the resignation and grudging appreciation on Remus's face. "I've thought this through."
"Apparently. Fuck, and I thought I was being proactive by bringing snacks. Way to show me up, Prongs."
James shrugged. "I've been doing it for years. You should be used to it by now."
"You might want to be nicer to me, or I'll push you off into the next body of water we fly over." He passed James a helmet and pulled on his own, then started up the motorbike and steered it out into the street.
James heaved a sigh of satisfaction when they found a deserted spot to take off into the air and left all the cars and people and buildings behind. The air battered his helmet and whipped his clothes around, and his stomach gave an exhilarating lurch as Sirius steered the bike straight into the air, then went into a steep dive and executed several flips. It had been too long since the two of them had taken a ride together, with nothing except the wind in their faces and the rumble of the motorbike underneath them and the joy of each other's company. James had forgotten how much he enjoyed being a passenger and ceding control to Sirius.
They drove for hours, flying over motorways and suburbs and green pastures dotted with tiny cows. When they approached a mountain range and Sirius steered the motorbike even higher, James knew they were getting close. On the other side of the last peak they found a sprawling forest thick with trees. James touched Sirius's shoulder and pointed at a small cottage nestled at the forest's edge. Sirius gave a thumbs up and activated the invisibility switch. They began to descend until the motorbike touched down onto a sparse patch of grass in a deserted clearing a little ways from the cottage.
"What's the plan?" Sirius asked after he cut the engine and stuck out his leg to balance the motorbike.
"We're meeting the landlord bloke at the cottage," James said, lifting up his helmet and enjoying the rush of cool air on his face. "I'll do the talking. You just stand there and look pretty."
Sirius laughed, then started up the motorbike again and took off down the road. Little stones and gravel flew out behind them as they bounced along over potholes and dips.
"I don't love this, Prongs," Sirius shouted over the roar of the engine. "It's not good for her suspension."
"Well, neither is crashing into a streetlight," James called back, referring to a drunken mishap from the previous summer. "It'll be fine, we're almost there."
They drew to a stop in front of the little cottage and parked behind a rusty truck, then climbed off and strode up the stone path to the peeling front door. It swung open to reveal a grizzled man with a sun beaten face and a shock of white hair. As he ushered them in, James's eyes darted around the sunny interior, already imagining the four of them spending the tense hours before the full moon gathered around the little table or sprawled out in the living room in front of the fire. A built-in bookshelf held a few battered paperbacks, abandoned and forgotten, but James could picture it full to bursting with Remus's ever-growing book collection. The place had a musty scent and an air of neglect, yet it had potential.
The landlord, who had introduced himself as Johnny Roberts, showed them the kitchen, the small bathroom, and the three-season porch off the living room, then led them up a narrow set of stairs to a pair of bright, sunlit bedrooms. The larger of the two faced the forest, and James peered out at the ominous-looking trees. Even now in the light of day, the twisted, outstretched branches gave him a feeling of apprehension and dread. He shivered, his eyes lingering on a long branch waving in the wind, before turning and following Mr. Roberts and Sirius down the stairs into the kitchen.
"That's about all there is to see," Mr. Roberts said, shoving his hands into his pockets and surveying them with an expectant air. "What do you think?"
"I was hoping to see the cellar," James said, eying a door off the kitchen.
Mr. Roberts frowned and followed his gaze. "There's not much to see down there."
James shrugged. "I'd still like to see it, if that's alright."
Mr. Roberts grunted. "Ceiling's pretty low down there," he said. "You'll want to watch your head, especially you." He nodded at Sirius, then opened the door and began to descend the stairs.
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Did you pick this place specifically because of the cellar?"
James nodded. "I hope he never needs it, but I'm worried we'll be off on missions or whatever and won't be able to make it some months. We'll need a backup plan."
James and Sirius exchanged dark looks before descending the creaky stairs. The air was damp and stale, and only one naked light bulb illuminated the cramped space. A few cardboard boxes were piled in the corner next to a furnace, and a rickety table held an empty mousetrap and a forgotten soda can. Other than that, the cellar was empty.
James walked around, nudging his toe against the cement wall to test its strength. He continued along the perimeter, scanning for cracks or flaws, but it all appeared sound. There was no bulkhead or windows; the door at the top of the stairs was the only exit.
"Door's a little flimsy," Sirius muttered. "But we can reinforce it, I suppose."
Mr. Roberts shot him a sharp look.
"My cousin– that's who will be living here – he has an, er, excitable dog," James said quickly. "He'll be keeping him locked down here when he's not home. He's a pretty strong chewer, and he ate through the door of the last place, so I hope you don't mind if we replace this door to make it a bit sturdier."
Mr. Roberts's frown deepened. "I dunno," he said, his eyes narrowing. "I've never had anyone keep a dog here before. The last lady had a cat, and it took me ages to get the piss smell out of the floor."
"That's alright," James said with a bright, reassuring grin. "We'll pay extra. He loves that dog and won't leave him behind, even though he's always getting into trouble. We call him my cousin's 'furry little problem.'"
Mr. Roberts didn't smile, but his eyes had lit up at the mention of extra money, and he nodded before leading the way back upstairs.
"I was also hoping to take a quick walk through the forest," James said, gesturing at the trees visible through the kitchen window. "We live in London and don't get a chance to enjoy much of nature, I'm afraid."
Mr. Roberts stared at him, a suspicious frown forming on his chapped lips.
"It's easy to get lost in there," he warned. "We had a little girl go missing in there a couple years back. Wandered in and never came out. Some parts, trees are so thick you can't even see the sun."
"We're just going to take a stroll along the edge," James assured him.
"We won't go far," Sirius added.
They strode through the door and across the drive, making their way to a break in the undergrowth where a little path wound through the trees. James stepped in and immediately felt a prickle at the back of his neck. The wind rattled the branches and rustled through fallen leaves scattered across the ground. Somewhere deep in the trees, a bird called and another answered.
"This is perfect," Sirius said, stepping over a root and ducking to avoid a branch that stuck out at eye-height. "Seems like the locals are afraid to go too deep into the forest. Nobody will bother us." He stopped and looked at James, his expression hardening. "I don't like the idea of that cellar, though."
James shook his head. "Neither do I, but we won't have much of a choice if we get called away."
Sirius nodded and lit a cigarette, then leaned against a tree as he smoked.
"I suppose we can't tell Dumbledore we're unavailable every full moon, can we? It'd be too suspicious."
James shook his head. "Nah. It's too bad it's got to stay a secret, though, because being Animagi would probably be useful for the Order."
Sirius exhaled a long stream of smoke. "I guess it won't be so bad, as long as we can reinforce that door and he won't have to be fucking chained up," he said, flicking a bit of ash onto the ground.
James winced. They had all been horrified when Remus had confessed to spending full moons chained to the cellar wall when he was home for school holidays. Since then, the Lupins had moved to another house more equipped to handle Moony and the chains were no longer required, but James still ached with sadness when he thought about it.
"No. I don't care what we have to do – he's never doing that again. I couldn't stand it." He ran a hand through his hair and watched the smoke from Sirius's cigarette dissipate into the air. "Is it stupid to think we'll still be able to spend full moons together once we're out of school?"
Sirius laughed. "If it is, then why the fuck did you spend all that time finding this cottage in the middle of nowhere next to this huge bloody forest?" He took a drag on his cigarette and drummed his fingers against the side of his face. "Things are going to be different, but we'll just have to take it a month at a time, I suppose."
"I guess you're right." James squinted through the trees at the cottage. Mr. Roberts was leaning against his truck, smoking a cigarette of his own and gazing into the forest.
"Do you still want to move into my flat?" Sirius asked, his face drawn into a casual expression that James saw through at once. "Or will you be getting a place with Evans?"
"I thought we could both move in with you," James said, grinning. "If you can stand to listen to her political tirades every few days, that is."
Sirius shrugged. "I've survived so far." A relieved smile spread across his face as he blew out another stream of smoke. "Have you talked to her about this yet?"
"Nah. She'll want to, though. She loves you." He raised his eyebrows and added, "What about Mary? Think you'll ask her to move in?"
Sirius's smile disappeared. "Sod off. That sounds a bit relationshippy for my taste."
"She lives in our dormitory, Padfoot. What the fuck is the difference?"
Sirius shrugged, but his expression softened. "I dunno. Maybe I'll ask her. Maybe not. We'll see."
James laughed. "Alright, fair enough. Hey, how angry do you think Moony will be when he finds out I've rented him a house?"
"He'll be furious," Sirius said, grinning. "But I dunno what else he would do. You're right, he won't want to live with his parents any longer than he has to, and he doesn't have any money to pay for his own place. Even if we weren't going to be too busy with the Order to work, I don't think he could really get a job, do you?"
James frowned and shook his head. "Probably not." He stared down at the rotting leaves and tree roots, rage coursing through him as he thought about the prejudice that would follow Remus throughout his life. "It's not right."
"No, it isn't," Sirius agreed. "But at least he has us. And Seven, until the bloody idiot breaks up with her." He took a deep drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fucking Moony."
"Fucking Moony."
They fell silent again as Sirius smoked the last of his cigarette and ground it out on the ground. The wind was beginning to pick up, and James zipped his jacket up to his chin and shivered.
"Where's Pete going to live?" Sirius asked suddenly.
James laughed and shook his head. "No bloody idea."
"He's not living with us," Sirius said, a stubborn glint in his eyes. "If I never have to hear his snoring again it'll be too fucking soon."
"Well, maybe his mum will want him to keep living with her for a while," James said, shrugging.
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "That woman's a bloody saint."
"Our mum's a bloody saint," James said, laughing.
"Yeah, for putting up with you. I'm a gift and a blessing."
James rolled his eyes. "Alright, should we go tell this old bloke we want the cottage and we'll pay extra so my cousin can keep his naughty Labrador or whatever?"
Sirius frowned. "I was picturing a Dobermann. Can it be a Dobermann?"
"It's a fictional dog, Pads, so sure. It's a Dobermann."
They set off toward the cottage, laughing and looking forward to the journey home on the motorbike. As they drove off down the dirt road, James watched the bare, gnarled trees fly past them. When they returned again, the branches would be bursting with lush, green leaves, and the forest would envelope them, hiding them from the rest of the world as they raced and reveled together. James grinned. He couldn't wait.