Chapter 38 – An Invitation
The air was heavy and humid in Greenhouse Number 3 despite the early hour. Professor Sprout had broken up everyone into pairs, and set them about different tasks around the greenhouse. Sirius, Peter, and a pair of Hufflepuffs were repotting Dittany Plants into larger pots. This class was the last of the year for Herbology. After today, there was another day and half of the school year left.
Sirius picked up his spade, shoveling dirt into the pot and transferring the plant over. He patted the soil carefully around it. Peter had grumbled that they were doing free labor for their Professor, but Sirius was finding it calming. He even felt accomplished, having repotted twice the number of plants as Peter.
He picked up a clump of dirt rolling it around with his fingers. The work was simple, repetitive, and beneath someone with as noble and ancient blood as he. He could imagine his mother berating Sprout; repotting was work for house elves, not heirs. He really needed to stop thinking about them – his family, his parents, especially his mother. One green envelope and his family had snared him back into their keep.
McGonagall's words of wisdom floated through his mind, and that is where they stayed. Good advice in theory, but not helpful in real life. McGonagall spoke of a summer where he could lie about soaking in the sun rays. Balmy summer nights filled of meaningful discussions with James, and he'd be on the path to being a better person.
When he made a decision of what to do with the evidence, he had a bigger problem to deal with. If he didn't handle this offer from Voldemort properly, his future was bleak. A Hogwarts education wouldn't matter. A voice in his head reminded him for the hundredth time he could have spoken up. He could have confided in McGonagall about the evidence. Let an adult handle it, and absolve himself from the matter.
His indecisiveness was maddening, and it was so unlike him. He didn't usually think things through. He didn't make lists; lamenting about the pros and cons. He was instinctive, decisive, and impulsive. He'd go with what he thought was right. And he'd deal with the consequences afterward. There was something about this decision; about where it would lead to that worried him...that no matter how he chose that it would lead to doom.
Peter sidled closer with a very serious expression on his face. The Hufflepuff pair was on the end of the table, far enough not to overhear any conversation. "I think you should know...I told James about Regulus's visit and the envelope."
Sirius gripped his spade tightly. "What did you say?"
"I'm sorry! I thought he knew. I thought you'd tell him. You tell each other everything. And James is planning on confronting you soon."
Sirius dropped the spade, it clattered on the table. "Fantastic, Wormtail."
Peter shrunk back slightly. "I'm telling you so you have fair warning. If you should need time to come up with a story-"
Sirius bristled at the implication. "Why would I need to make up a story? I told you that day it was nothing."
"I'm not an idiot, Padfoot. Keep your secrets if you want, but you'll have to tell James something." With that Peter sidestepped back to his tray of plants. He didn't like Peter implying he needed time to come up with a story. Or that Peter was doing him some sort of favor for warning him. Sirius watched him for a few moments and then scanned the room for where his other two friends were. James and Remus had been partnered for shrub trimming. James sensed his gaze immediately from across the room. Sirius lifted a hand in greeting. He expected James to smile or give him a thumbs up, but he was met with a grim expression.
Sirius busied himself with the next seedling as his thoughts swirled. A lump was forming in his throat, the now familiar anxiety and insecurity building. Keep your secrets. As if Peter didn't want to know as badly as James. He was only lying by omission, he reasoned. That wasn't the same thing as actively lying. Now that he knew James was aware, the fib did feel bigger, more like a breach of trust. He'd told himself he was protecting his friends from worry, but he was really protecting himself from dealing with the problem head-on. Sirius grabbed the watering can across from Peter. "What does James think is in the envelope?"
Peter glanced up uneasily. "He hasn't really said...but your parents are hardly known for their rationality."
"Right," Sirius muttered.
Peter hesitated. "They aren't making you go home, are they?" His friend looked so distraught by the idea that his annoyance at his loose lips crumbled.
"No. No," Sirius replied with exasperation. "Is that what James thinks?"
"Umm...well it was one of the possibilities."
"Does Remus know as well?"
"I don't think so. Unless James told him."
Sirius returned back to his plants, watering them a bit too generously. He continued working to keep his hands busy and from Sprout paying specific attention to him. He had run out of time. He wouldn't lie to James directly if confronted. He could refuse to answer...but he knew that would go over worse than a fib.
James didn't act any differently towards him as they walked to their next class. The strange expression he'd seen on his face had disappeared. If Peter hadn't told him about the impending inquisition, he would have thought he'd been imagining it all. Everything felt abnormally normal.
Their next class was Transfiguration. Sirius slipped into his seat beside Remus purposely not looking at Professor McGonagall. She set them working on the Vanishing Spell again, each student was given a box with several items inside; tea spoon, tea cup, cauldron, and a mouse. Sirius was keenly aware of where Professor McGonagall was during the entire class. Her words a shadow that enveloped him as he tried to concentrate on the spell. He felt vulnerable and self-conscious in her presence. He'd let his guard down in front of her, even if only briefly; and it felt wrong not to have it acknowledged in some way.
Halfway through the class McGonagall paused at their desk. Her words about how proud she had been of their acceptance of Lupin replayed in his mind. He'd almost ruined all the good they had done with that earlier in the year. His life really was a mess.
"Very good, Mr. Lupin," McGonagall praised as Remus vanished the tea cup in front of her. "Mr. Black?"
Avoiding looked at McGonagall directly, Sirius chose the hardest item of the group. He vanished the mouse, and then he made it reappear. "Excellent, you can move onto vanishing more than one item...the mouse in the cauldron, the spoon with the teacup. All right?"
"Yes, Professor," Sirius said, sighing with relief when she went on to the next pair. He didn't immediately return back to his work. With McGonagall behind him, he had a few minutes to breathe, to think. He needed to confront James. Go on the offense, rather than be on the defensive. He'd be in control the narrative then. He wouldn't lie...but he could downplay the seriousness...he could...
Sirius aimlessly swished his wand and suddenly the desk before him vanished. All the items – the teaspoons, cups, cauldrons and squealing mice- came clattering onto the classroom floor. The sound reverberated around the room, a perfect mocking metaphor of his life. Remus almost toppled out of his chair beside him, and the entire class was now staring at them.
The escaped mice ran in circles, darting and weaving between legs, desks, and chairs. He heard the light laughter of his friends, the Gryffindor girls giggling, and the condescending jeering from the Slytherins. He tried to ignore it all. He couldn't concentrate. His heart beat loudly in his ears. With the spotlight on him, he tried again and again to bring the desk back, but his magic failed him. Eventually McGonagall took pity on him, stepping forward to un-vanish the desk. In a tone as stern as usual, she stated, "Keep focus, Mr. Black. Using magic when your thoughts are elsewhere can have dire consequences."
"Yes, Professor," Sirius answered his face burning as Remus helped him pick up the items scattered about. Lily Evans walked over, cupping in her hands one of the escaped mice. Peter had caught the other. "Poor thing," Peter said as he placed the trembling animal back where it was supposed to be.
McGonagall, always one to have a firm control over her class, had the room resettled and refocused within a matter of minutes.
Over the dim of the whispered conversations and student incantations, Remus asked quietly, "Are you all right, Padfoot?" Remus had stopped his spell work and was watching him carefully, worriedly.
Sirius, his voice equally low, answered, "Is anything?"
He knew Remus would not force any further discussion, but he could still feel his friend's worry, as if it had physically manifested and was now hovering above him. Then there was James behind him, wanting a confrontation. And Peter's words – keep your secrets. The pressure...the stress...it was becoming too much to handle. The walls were closing in around him. So, when class ended, and Peter started in the direction of the Great Hall for lunch, he made another rash decision...maybe even to prove to himself that he hadn't - wasn't - going to take McGonagall's advice.
He heard himself saying, "Let's go up the dormitory first."
His friends protested, of course, claiming pains of hunger and that they would be missed. At his insistence, they followed him up to the Gryffindor Tower.
It was with an odd feeling, as if he didn't have full control his own body, that he strode over to the trunk. He opened up the lid, and reached for the envelope...and a wave of doubt immediately washed over him. What was he going to say? How was he going to explain any of it? He should have rehearsed. He needed to be ready with answers.
He snatched the envelope, slamming the lid shut, locking away his doubts. Dust particles danced in the air around him, as he turned, facing his friends.
"Two days ago, Regulus gave me this in the library." He took a breath, and then handed it over to James. He abruptly turned his back; fixing his eyes on the clouds skimming across the blue sky. He couldn't watch as they opened it, scrutinized the contents, began forming judgements.
After what felt like an eternity, Remus spoke. "What are we looking at?"
"He killed Keenan."
"What?" That was Peter.
"What?" That was James.
"This is the man that killed Keenan?" Remus repeated.
"Yes. His name. His address."
"And your brother gave this to you?"
"Wow," Peter exclaimed.
With effort, Sirius turned back to face his friends. James was quiet, still engrossed with the picture. "It is him," he said softly. James picked up his head meeting his gaze. "This is him, Sirius. We have to hand this in!" James was relieved, giddy. Then came the accusation. "Why haven't you?"
Sirius felt defensive immediately. "It's not that simple."
"Why not?"
"My parents wouldn't just hand over something like this to me-"
James's face darkened. "What did you have to do? What did they make you do for this information?"
Sirius faltered. "Nothing. I didn't have to do anything. It was a show of faith."
"What's that?" Peter asked.
Remus rubbed his chin in contemplation. "There were no strings attached? They just handed it over?"
"Yes. And no." He didn't really want to go into further explanation, but without it, his secrecy made even less sense. "Regulus said - Regulus said Voldemort's offer is coming this summer. And then he handed me this." He gestured toward the letter and then waited for them to make the connection.
"Voldemort's offer is coming while you're at my house?"
"Yes, I'm planning to have him over for tea. Do you think your parents will mind?"
James fought back a smile. He then shook his head, shaking away Sirius's attempt to lighten the situation. "Padfoot, that's not something we can take lightly."
"I know. I'm not."
Remus diverted the conversation back to the evidence. "Ok. Regulus handed over this show of faith in the hope that when Voldemort's offer comes, you will be more agreeable?"
"Something like that."
"But there's no strings attached." James looked perplexed. "You said so yourself. What's the problem? I don't understand why you haven't handed it in? And why have you kept it from us?"
Sirius didn't have a straight answer. "Because - because there are no strings. Because I don't know what's coming next."
"That doesn't make any sense," James said. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
"If I accept this, then what happens next time? When something like this is offered, but with a price?"
"Then you say no if the price is unacceptable." James was making it sound so simple. Black and white. "This man deserves to be in prison. He wanted to kill you! He murdered our Professor in front of us! We can't sit on this-"
"Prongs," Remus interjected. "Let's slow down. Step back. There are a lot of things to think about."
James let out a deep breath. He took a physical step back. "Like what?"
"Well, I was wondering, why Sirius's parents didn't hand this over to the authorities themselves. They could have been the heroes."
James shrugged and it was Peter that answered. "To mess with his head?"
Remus nodded. "To mess with his head... days after Sirius survived a murder attempt. They first warn him about an offer from Voldemort, and then hand him this. What do they want?"
"It doesn't matter what they want," James insisted. "If there's no price-"
"There is one," Sirius snapped. "Don't you see? My parents aren't decent people. They aren't doing this out of the goodness of their hearts." He spit out the word goodness like it was something rotten. "What if they don't show their hand until after I've used this and then I can't say no."
"Then you've used it already. How can they trap you?"
"What if it's not him?" Sirius threw out. "We never saw him without the mask."
"It is him. You recognize him too," James said dismissively. "This is exactly what your parents want – you're so worried about what they'll do that they don't have to do anything."
Sirius struggled to find the words to explain what he was feeling when Peter asked, "Are you worried that your parents will be in trouble for not handing in the evidence right away?" Peter had taken a seat on the bed, having quietly listened to their arguments so far. "What's it called? Something of justice?"
"Obstruction of justice." Remus answered quietly.
Peter nodded his head. "That's it." Then he threw Sirius an apologetic look.
Sirius gaped at Peter. He was so thrown by the question that he didn't protest it immediately.
"Is that it then?" James ran hand through his hair again, and crossed his arms. "That's why you took so long to tell us? And why you haven't handed it in?"
Sirius glared at James. "Don't be ridiculous."
"It's not ridiculous. They are your family."
"You think I care what happens to them after they continue pulling stunts like this?" Sirius demanded gesturing wildly towards the discarded evidence on the bedspread. He could feel his face heating; in both anger and embarrassment by the implications.
James lifted his hands in a questioning manner. "It doesn't matter. They've covered themselves, haven't they? They must have known Sirius would have his doubts. If they charge the Blacks, they'll have to charge Sirus too. You've kept it now for what – two days?"
"Almost two days."
"Can you imagine them charging the runaway heir of the Blacks for obstruction of justice when ultimately the information led to the arrest of a Death Eater? That would be a laugh."
"Well...one less thing to worry about," said Remus.
"They might catch him on their own," Sirius offered in another attempt to deter things. He felt cornered, as if his friends weren't really listening to him. "Without this information."
"They might," Peter agreed backing him up after tossing him the wolves only moments earlier.
"On what leads? We have to hand this in," James said simply.
"Yes," Remus relented. "Yes, I think we do."
"So," James said briskly, taking charge. "We have three choices – directly to the Ministry official – we were given a card to contact them, Professor McGonagall, or Professor Dumbledore. What do you think?" He turned to look at Sirius.
"Oh, now you care what I think?"
"Sirius, you know this is the right thing to do. These games of your parents won't work if you don't play along."
Then Sirius had an idea. A way to stall the train barreling down the tracks. "Your parents."
"What about them?" James asked warily.
"I want to talk this over with them first. This way we don't need to bring McGonagall or Dumbledore into this."
James looked doubtful. "My parents?"
"Yes. They are picking us up in over a day and a half. This can wait...a little longer. I'll tell them that evening." He stopped himself short of begging...short of using the word please.
James probably sensed this was an attempt to delay everything, but he would not argue against his own parents. Now that he'd thrown it out there, Sirius pondered if the Potters were the solution after all. The Potters were good people, and he trusted them. He probably should make them aware of the offer coming this summer. Not that he really thought Voldemort would stop in for tea, but he owed them a warning for their generosity.
"That's reasonable," Remus said because James had still not responded. Remus looked at James for confirmation. "Right?"
"Right," James said a moment later, though judging by the look on his face, he didn't look entirely on board.
"Can we go to lunch now?" Peter asked. "I can't last the rest of the day without eating."
Remus glanced at his watch. "We still have a half hour. Grab your things for next class, so we don't have to walk back up here again."
Sirius sank down on his bed, exhausted, rubbing in face with hands. He was not hungry. He was not ready to face the student body. He heard some whispering and papers being shuffled. Then the dormitory door clicking closed.
"Padfoot."
Sirius hastily wiped his face hoping when he looked up James wouldn't notice the glisten to his eyes.
James handed back the green envelope. Sirius didn't know what to do with it. He'd expected James to hold onto it for 'safe keeping'. The papers inside still represented so much conflict in his head. He tossed it to the side, unable to look at it a second longer.
James took a seat beside him on the bed. "This offer, we can tell my parents. They can help with that too."
Sirius made a noncommittal sound. He had no doubt the Potters would try to help, but he did not believe there was very much they could do.
"Peter told me earlier about your brother's visit and the envelope. We had no idea what it was about but-"
"I know. Peter told me this morning...to warn me..."
"So that's what this was all about? This sudden need to get it off your chest?"
"Yea."
"Were you planning on telling us at all?"
"I don't know. I hadn't decided yet," Sirius said truthfully. James looked troubled by his confession; his brow furrowed. "It doesn't matter. We'll tell your parents. We'll hand in the evidence. That man will be arrested, and..." He trailed off. And they'd all live happily ever after?
James did not fall for his rambling. "What's still bothering you?"
A long silence followed the question. Neither boy moved. They sat side by side, the air in the room heavy; both alone and together.
"It's about what you said earlier...about not playing along with my parents' games."
"What about it?"
"I am playing along."
"Ok..."
"My parents trapped me...again. And I'm so sick of it, James." He ran his hands over his face. "I can't win. It feels like I can't win. Hand this in...or not. It doesn't matter. They are in control, so they win. Game over."
James didn't answer him right away. For a moment Sirius thought he wasn't going to. "This will be a win. A murderer arrested. A Death Eater off the streets. Your parents can't take any of that away." James cleared his throat. "Professor Keenan's killer behind bars. And if nothing else, don't we owe him that?"
Sirius turned to look at James. His eyes settling once again on the bruise, still green and yellow. He forced himself to look past it, to really see his best friend. And when he did, he saw the same feelings of pain, guilt, and regret mirrored back at him.
And if nothing else, don't we owe him that?
"Yes," Sirius answered softly. "Yes, we do."
There was no other way to answer. He did owe Keenan. They owed Keenan.
James squeezed his shoulder and then stood up. "We need to make an appearance at lunch. You up to it?"
Sirius nodded. The last thing he wanted was to face McGonagall again; explain to her why he and James had missed lunch. He followed James out, and then turned back to grab the envelope off his bed. He slipped it into the pocket of his robe. Then he rejoined James, and they headed together to the Great Hall.
Snape waited patiently in the library until it was almost closing time. He shut the book he'd been skimming. He fished out a piece of paper out of his bag, and placed it on top of the same book he was reading. He approached the librarian's desk with purpose. It was his first time requesting an over the summer loan on a library book.
He'd gone through the required process, having spoken to Slughorn earlier in the day for written permission. Snape had been ready with a list of reasons for why he needed the book, but his Head of House had been distracted. Then when Snape said the book was about Healing Charms, an innocuous subject, Slughorn had signed the form with a flourish and waved him on his way.
Snape slipped the signed paper and the book towards the librarian. She scrutinized the signature, and doubled checked the title written on the form was the same as the one he was checking out. Next, she handed Snape the book back, reminding him that if there was any damage to the book, he would need to pay a fine. It all went more smoothly than anything else had the entire year.
Things were finally falling into place. He had the summer to study the incantation. He alone would have a way to heal the damage of Sectemsempra. His house was considered a magical space, so he only had to convince his mother to allow him to use magic. He'd tell her it was for an independent school project. He was sure she wouldn't make a fuss. He'd have to wait until his father was at work, but if last summer was anything to go by, his father would rarely be home.
"There you are Snape."
It was Mulciber, and he was without Avery for once. The two were as bad as Black and Potter; rarely saw one without the other.
"Come on, Lestrange wants to see us," Mulciber ordered gruffly.
"Now?"
Mulciber didn't answer. He just began walking, forcing Snape to half run to keep up with the quick pace.
"Where are we going?"
Mulciber ignored that question as well. They went up and up the staircases, further and further away from the dungeons. Until they came to a stop at the door leading up the Astronomy Tower. The 'us' turned out to be more than Avery. Leaning casually against the wall next to the stairs were Regulus Black and sixth year, Anthony Nott.
"About time," Nott said imperiously. "I don't have all night." Nott was the first to begin the trek up the Tower. The others followed with Snape bringing up the rear. It was a long climb to reach the top.
Lestrange stood with his back to them, hands clasped behind him, gazing out towards the grounds. A small wooden table was near him with a candle in the middle. Five cream-colored envelopes were laid out around it. It was a still evening, and the half-moon was almost visible in the slowly darkening sky.
Lestrange turned, beckoning them closer. The Slytherins formed a half circle around the table, each still breathing heavily from the earlier exertion. Snape watched Lestrange with a mixture of curiosity, nervousness, and excitement.
"Gentlemen," Lestrange drawled. "Lucius Malfoy is having an intimate gathering this summer. He has given me the honor of extending you a personal invitation."
"All this fanfare for a party?" Nott asked looking bored and disinterested by the prospect. Everyone in Slytherin knew Malfoy liked his lavish parties, so it was hardly newsworthy.
"This isn't any party. You five have been chosen out of all of Hogwarts as those who we think will have a bright future within our organization. If you aren't interested Nott..."
"And what organization might that be?" Nott said.
Lestrange chuckled. "The only one worth joining." He nodded for them to pick up the envelopes. But as Regulus went for his, Lestrange grabbed hold of the younger boy's wrist. "You're lucky to be getting one of these...after all the nonsense your brother has pulled this year..."
Regulus doesn't rise to the bait, showing more control than his older brother ever had. Snape knew it was a lie. There was no universe where Regulus wouldn't be invited to this party; with one cousin married to a Lestrange and the other to Lucius Malfoy. Regulus's acceptance was assured, and expected. The other boys did not have to climb and claw their way to the top like he had. He'd even lost his best friend in the process. None of the others had earned this as he had. Lestrange let go of Regulus's wrist, and allowed him to take the invitation.
"Will he be there – the Dark Lord," Mulciber asked excitedly.
"If the Dark Lord has time in his busy schedule to make an appearance, he will certainly not be speaking to any of you. This invitation is of the highest honor. You will be on your best behavior. If you embarrass us, do not show your face in Slytherin again." Lestrange paused, using the moment to look at each of them carefully. His eyes roaming over them as if he already knew each and every one of their defects. "Is that understood?"
Snape nodded along with the others. He was almost tempted to ask...What would be considered an embarrassment – spilling soup all over your robes or bringing a Muggle as a plus one? He kept silent. He knew no one in that group would find the question remotely funny.
"You are there to observe and learn. You will only speak when a question is directed at you. There will be no consumption of any alcoholic beverages."
"But I'm seventeen-" Nott argued.
"None. At. All." Lestrange stared at Nott until the boy grudgingly agreed. "You will not stuff yourself like uncultured pigs. This is not a social gathering. This is not one of your family parties." Lestrange gaze lingered on Avery with that comment, who reddened slightly. Snape had no idea what that was reference to...but clearly Avery had made a fool of himself at some party. "Remember that this is a great honor. There will be many influential people in attendance. Should you make a positive impression, there will be many more of these gatherings."
Excitement rippled through the group with the promise of bigger and better things to come.
"This is a formal affair. Formal dress robes are required. Time and date are on the invitation. Are there any questions?"
No one had any questions. "You may all go. Except for Severus."
A shiver ran up his spine. With someone as volatile as Lestrange, one never knew if being singled out was positive or negative. The others filtered down the stairs as Snape waited for Lestrange to address him.
"Lucius told me you have been invited to several dinner parties over the years and despite your unfortunate Muggle upbringing, you conducted yourself in an acceptable manner." Lestrange's gaze moved to the stairs where the other four had disappeared down. "In fact, I'm least worried about your behavior." Lestrange lowered his voice even though they were alone. "Formal dress robes; you have those, right?"
Snape felt the heat rise in his face. He had not expected to be questioned about that. "I do," he stated coolly.
Lestrange raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced. "If you require assistance, Lucius said -"
"I don't."
"Good then. You may go. It's now past curfew. Don't get caught."
Snape walked away quickly, before Lestrange offered something even more embarrassing, like etiquette lessons. He had lied. He did not have formal dress robes. There had never been any need. Snape was of a practical nature. He would never spend his savings on something so frivolous.
Lucius said -
Yes, it would be so easy for Lucius to lend the poor half-blood one of his old robes or pay for brand new ones. He was not a charity case. He refused to be seen as one. He had earned this invitation. He might never be seen as a true equal, but he would be respected.
He did have a sum of money saved, and while he hated to use it on clothing, this was more than that. This was an investment in his future. He wasn't going to waste this chance. He could afford a decent set of formal second-hand robes, as well as any needed alternations. He would not be the fanciest dressed with the best fabric money could buy, but he would be presentable. There was no use pretending to be someone he was not. They all knew he was poor. They all knew his father was a Muggle.
As his shoes clicked on the stone way, he felt his excitement building. This invitation was big. It made everything he had gone through, all his hard work, worth it. He'd meet the right people. He'd impress those in power. He already decided that he would find a way to demonstrate his newly invented spells, especially Sectumsempra. Now that he had the Healing Book for the summer, there was no reason to delay the curse's debut.
"Oi! Stop there!"
Snape froze. He recognized the voice as the caretaker, Filch. Snape cursed and took off running. He could hear Lestrange's voice echoing in his head – Don't get caught. He went left, right, and then pushed a tapestry to the side, sliding open a corridor. He stepped in, closing it behind him. He leaned against the wall to catch his breath. And because fate was always cruel, he came face to face with the last person he wanted to see; Lily Evans. She gawked at him, and she wasn't alone on her prefect patrols. Beside her stood Hogwarts only werewolf, Remus Lupin. Their very presence froze his arms and legs, caused his throat to dry up. All he could do was stare back as dread washed over him.
This was the closest he'd been to Lily since that fateful discussion outside the Gryffindor Common Room. His heart was pounding. It was painful just to look at her. He didn't know what to do or say. She moved toward him, and then past him. Her head up high, her eyes passing over him like he was nothing, like he was as invisible as the air around them. As if they hadn't been best friends. As if they hadn't shared treats, secrets, and their darkest desires with the other.
He pushed forward against the wall. He wanted to get out of there, out of the corridor. He was fueled by pain, anger, and resentment.
Lupin eyed him warily as he passed. "Snape, it's past curfew and-"
"And what Lupin?" he spat out with venom. "What are you going to do about it?"
Lupin frowned, looking in the direction of Lily and then stuffed his hands in his pockets. Snape wasn't concerned. Lupin would not have the nerve to write him up. Not after he looked the other way every single time his friends had broken the rules.
Snape tore down the corridor, sliding open another door and turned right in the direction of the dungeons. As he walked, he could feel the weight of the invitation in his pocket, and what it meant for his future.
You've chosen your way, and I've chosen mine.
Yes, he had chosen. She was wrong though. She would see in time that he'd made the right decision, and she had made the wrong one.
Still, there was no use pretending that he didn't care...that she didn't matter. As hard as it was to admit it, as much as he wanted to move forward, Snape could no longer hide from the truth. He missed his best friend. He missed her terribly.
James pushed his chair against the wall near his bed. He stood up and began taking down the Quidditch posters, rolling them up, and then levitating them to his open trunk.
It was their last night at Hogwarts as fifth years. The overly eventful year was finally over. His friends were all scattered around the room, packing their own belongings. Sirius had even turned on his radio upon Peter's request, and the background music lifted the mood considerably.
They had attended the end of the year feast earlier. The meal had been a somber affair with very little festivity. The ceiling in the Great Hall for once had looked like a real celling, and the House Banners had been replaced with plain black ones. With the House Cup Competition cancelled, there had been no anticipation in finding out this year's winner. Though all of Gryffindor knew their house would not have been a contender. The students ate, chatted quietly amongst themselves, and then it was back to their respective Common Rooms.
There was another change in the usual end-of year traditions. Tomorrow morning, he and Sirius would not be joining the other students on the Hogwarts Express. They would be leaving Hogwarts via the Floo Network. Special arrangements had been made for their safety. It was to prevent both reporters from ambushing them with questions at the station, and the bigger threat of one specific Death Eater coming back to finish what he had failed to do in the shop.
James now knew the identity of that particular Death Eater. The leader, the most dangerous of the group; the Uncle that had killed Professor Keenan. The man who tried to murder Sirius. He still disliked sitting on the information even for a short amount of time. However, Sirius wasn't wrong; telling his parents was a good idea. In fact, James was curious to see if his father recognized the man. If his father did, they would know the Death Eater had been telling the truth about knowing their fathers.
James hadn't spoken again to Sirius about the evidence. He had let it go after Sirius agreed, if grudgingly, to turn it in. He had never fully understood the hold the Blacks had on his friend. He just knew they did, and that Sirius was continuously struggling against it. Worse yet, Sirius now phrased it as a losing battle. Sirius was genuinely worried about the next steps his parents would take. And James had learned that Sirius tended to understate not overstate matters with his family. So, while he stood by his insistence on turning in the evidence, he still had some nagging doubt.
"What should we do with the Map and the notes?" Sirius asked. He was cross-legged on his bed, flipping through papers. "Should I hold onto them?"
"Fine by me," Remus said.
"Me too," Peter agreed.
"What about the book?" James asked. "The one on the Homonculous Charm? Do you still have it?"
"Yes." Sirius reached forward and held the book up. "It's right here."
"What are we going to do with it? It belonged to a friend of Keenan's, right?"
"Yes. I was going to leave it in his classroom," Sirius said, his tone casual. "Someone will run across it eventually, and return it to its proper owner."
James hadn't expected Sirius to have an answer to his query. He hadn't known that Sirius had even given it a thought. "When are you going? Tonight?"
Sirius shrugged. "Probably tomorrow...before we leave."
Sirius did not ask him to come along, and James decided not to press his friend. Returning back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom would not be easy. So, if Sirius wanted to do that alone, James understood, even if he didn't like it.
James jumped down from the chair, glancing outside. It was still too earlier to set his plan into motion. He had an idea for later. One that he'd ran by Professor McGonagall, and though he had given her no reason to trust him, she had given him permission.
The evening continued as they rummaged through their belongings. Handing back borrowed quills, clothing, and books to the proper owner. The accumulation of items throughout the year was always more than expected. The side of the room where their roommates slept was already bare, their stuff packed earlier in the day.
James picked up a pile of photographs he found towards the bottom of his trunk. The first photograph was of James and Sirius in second year. They were standing side by side, grinning in front of an animated Gryffindor banner; James still in his Quidditch uniform. The picture had been taken after his first Quidditch game as Chaser. There was one of Peter passed out on a red couch in the Common Room; his hair shorter and lighter in color. Another of Sirus and Remus bent over in hysterics, laughing at something or someone off-camera. The good memories were uplifting, and James found himself smiling genuinely for the first time in a while.
"Check these out," he said handing the stack of photos to Sirius. "Don't we look so young and innocent?"
"Innocent?" Sirius asked, taking the pictures. "I don't think we were even innocent." As he flipped through them, the corners of Sirius's mouth lifted into a grin. "Merlin, these feel like a lifetime ago."
"I wanna see," Peter said bounding over eagerly. He looked silly with all seven of his Gryffindor ties hanging loosely around his neck.
"Moony, come have a look," James said.
Sirius handed the stack over for Peter and Remus. James watched fondly as Remus and Peter sorted through the pictures, laughing and reminiscing.
"Remember this one?" Peter said pointing at a photograph of him and James splashing each other in a lake. "We had so much fun that summer. We'll have to do that again this year!"
"Yea. Maybe," James said as he watched Sirius get off his bed and walk quietly over to the window.
"We are going to able to visit this summer, right?" Peter asked forcing James's attention back on him. It hadn't been the first time Peter had brought it up, and it was starting to grate on James. Any other summer James would be eager to make plans. Out of the four of them, it was James and Peter who spent the most time together over the summer. They never knew if the Blacks would allow Sirius out of the house, and Remus had full moons and his over protective parents to contend with. James didn't know what restrictions his parents would enforce this summer...as they never really had before.
"Probably...but as I told you before, I don't know," James said as patiently as possible.
"When are you going to ask your parents? They might say yes..."
"I told you, I don't know. It might be weeks until we are allowed guests, so don't expect any get-togethers for a while."
"You can still visit me," Remus said quietly.
"And we'll write. Weekly."
"I hate writing," Peter complained. "And if your parents are allowing Sirius-"
"Peter, you know that's only because -"
"How about this, Wormtail?" Sirius cut across; the lightness of his tone not matching his dark, menacing expression. "Let's brew a cauldron of Polyjuice Potion, switch places, and then you can deal with Voldemort's offer when it comes."
Peter's eyes grew wide, his face drained of color. James had wanted to handle the situation more delicately than Sirius had...but perhaps it needed to be said. "T-that's n-not w-what I meant," stuttered Peter, looking at the ground as he scuffed his shoe. As he handed James back the pictures, Peter mumbled an apology.
The boys quietly went back to packing. No one spoke again for some time. The tense atmosphere certainly wasn't ideal for James's plan, but he could not postpone it. It had to be done tonight. James waited until the sky darkened, and the sun starting to set, before suggesting, "How about we go for a walk?"
"A walk? Now? It's almost curfew," Remus said.
"Not a problem, Moony. We have McGonagall's permission."
"McGonagall gave you permission to let us take a walk?" Sirius questioned skeptically.
"Yes," James said. "Come on. Get those shoes laced. We don't have all night. Wormtail, bring that item we discussed."
Peter nodded. He still looked downcast from earlier, but he grabbed his school bag from underneath his bed without comment. Sirius and Remus exchanged half-amused and half-exasperated looks, but they followed his instructions.
It was a lovely warm night. A gentle breeze wound around them, ruffling their clothes and hair. The sun behind the castle was breathtaking; the horizon alight with strips of warm pink and deep purple hues. James led them towards the lake, then along a wooded path, to clearing with enough tree cover to provide privacy. The tree branches grew outward, forming a dome-like structure.
"Ok," James said as he took a deep breath. He was a bit breathless from nerves, but now was not the time to have any misgivings. "Gather around, lads."
His friends all looked befuddled, but they formed a circle.
"Wormtail, can I have the Fire Whiskey?"
"Right here," Peter said, almost tripping over his own feet as he handed it off to James. The bottle was only a quarter full.
"Did you get permission from McGonagall for that too?" Remus asked with raised eyebrows.
"I might have said we'd use pumpkin juice...but it's a minor, insignificant detail," James explained with a wave of his hand. "I thought we could have our own, private...proper...toast to Professor Keenan." James paused, looking at his friends in turn for any dissent. No one walked off, so James took that as a positive sign and continued on. "Anyway...I'll go first." James lifted the bottle of Fire Whiskey. "To Professor Keenan. He was a brilliant Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He pushed us to do better. He lived and died as a true Gryffindor." James took a generous swig out of the bottle, almost choking as the liquid burned down his throat. Warmth flooded his system immediately. He then passed the bottle to Remus on his left.
Remus held the bottle tightly. He stood silently for several seconds before speaking. "To Professor Keenan. He knew what I was...and he always treated me fairly." Remus lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a much smaller sip than James. Remus passed it on to Peter.
Peter looked anxious, staring down at the bottle in his hand as if it would tell him the answer. "To Professor Keenan. He...umm...was a good, fair teacher. He always offered to give me extra help when I needed it." Peter took a large sip and immediately started coughing. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and held the bottle out to Sirius unsurely.
Sirius did not immediately take the Fire Whiskey. It was probably only seconds, but to James it felt like an eternity. If Sirius refused to take part, it greatly lessened the impact of the gathering. He and Sirius had been affected by Keenan's murder the most, and this was a chance to honor Keenan's memory.
After some amount of time, Sirius accepted the bottle. "To Professor Keenan," Sirius began as they each had, only to abruptly stop the second the words were out of his mouth. James held his breath; there was a panicked look in his friend's eyes. Something spurred Sirius on for he regained motion. He took a quick swig from the bottle; the liquid courage helping Sirius find his voice. "He saved me this year...more than once." Sirius lifted the Fire Whisky again and took another, longer drink.
The boys passed the bottle around several more times, and they settled on the grass. The conversation between them felt slightly stilted, but after a few minutes it began to flow more naturally. Peter was talking more than usual as if worried any silence would cause someone to bring up his gaff from earlier. On the other hand, Sirius remained unusually quiet. The air smelled of good memories, friendship, and summer. The alcohol buzzed pleasantly through James's body. He allowed himself to relax completely.
"Umm...Sirius?" Peter asked as the night was drawing to a close.
"What?" Sirius's voice was gruff. He was lying on his back, his hands behind his head, eyes closed.
"I meant to tell you earlier. My mum said you can keep the trunk over the summer...and next year, if you need. The year after too."
Sirius opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Peter. "Oh...Thank you. And thank her for me."
"I will," Peter said earnestly. "And I'm sorry about earlier."
"It doesn't matter. Let's just forget it, all right?"
"Yes," Peter said looking relieved. Sirius closed his eyes again as Peter smiled at James. He gave Peter a thumbs up sign. He wasn't sure if Peter had actually asked his mother about the trunk already, but he appreciated Peter making amends. James had noticed that Peter was asserting himself more often. This was a positive development, but it appeared to come as a detriment to his friendship with Sirius; and James didn't know what to make of that.
James stood up. It was getting late. "Time to head back. I promised McGonagall I'd have you all tucked safely in bed by 9:30." He offered a hand to help Sirius up.
Sirius accepted his hand, then quietly, so only James could hear said, "Prongs...this was-"
James nodded. "I know." He didn't need Sirius to say anything else.
He looked around at the others. Peter was a bit wobbly on his feet at first, but after a few steps he righted himself. Remus handed James the empty bottle of Fire Whiskey, and he placed it in Peter's bag. He'd take care of disposing it later.
The four Gryffindors faced the castle together, gazing up at its majesty. They headed back inside.
Author's note: Thanks for reading! So what did you think? Please leave a review! I love having written feedback. There's one more chapter to go (for real this time)!
As a side note, I've also edited some of the earlier chapters in the story. There's no change to the plot; it was mostly to help with the flow.