A/N: I'm so so sorry that this chapter is so much later than I usually intend for them to be – I got really busy with the end of the semester and deadlines that I've been ignoring because of pandemic fatigue as well as some slight health stuff, so I didn't manage to post anything. I hope everyone got through the last weeks better than I did and that you all didn't lose interest in this one yet.
The end of this chapter will contain some descriptions of parental neglect and abuse, just as a trigger warning.
Chapter 7: Beginning
With her last OWL exam finally done, summer seemed to stretch out in front of her just as endlessly as it always had. But for the first time, the prospect filled her with a weird apprehension. As much as she loved Hogwarts, the idea of having the castle and especially the library all to herself for months no longer seemed exciting. She wanted nothing more than to go the Burrow and listen to Ron rant about the Chudley Cannons. She wanted to help Mrs. Weasley set up dinner. She wanted to lie around in the grass with a book and watch Harry, Ron and Ginny play Quidditch. Even going back to Grimmauld Place to clean out some musty cabinets sounded more fun than being alone with her thoughts in the gigantic castle.
Of course she couldn't tell Lily this when the redhead asked her why she seemed so down about the holidays beginning the next day. "I've never spent that much time with my mum's family," she lied instead. "And I don't know them that well, we've only seen each for a couple weeks every other year."
Lily closed her trunk and smiled widely at her. "Well, Dorcas, Mary and I were thinking about going to, like, Brighton or maybe the Lake District together for a bit, so if you want, you could come along!"
Before she could say anything in response, Mary peeked out of the little bathroom that adjoined their dormitory. "I'm sorry, Lily, I completely forgot to tell you, didn't I?" she mumbled around her toothbrush. She disappeared back into the bathroom before Lily could answer, but came back a few moments later. "I got a letter from my parents a couple days ago. We're spending most of the summer in Georgia, one of my aunties is getting married in three weeks. I'm really sorry."
As little as she looked forward to her aunties' endless questions about her studies and her plans and their equally endless opinions, she really could not wait for the wedding. She had not seen most of her family for so long, and being in Georgia was a much needed respite from the rest of the world. For one, no one made incessant comments about how supposedly unruly her hair was and which straightening potion and spell she was supposed to use. And as annoying as the questions could be, they so clearly came from a place of love and curiosity. Also, from what her parents had told her, Ruth's fiancé sounded lovely, and Ruth had always been her favourite auntie.
"Oh, no worries," she said as she felt her stomach sink at the prospect of having to spend all of the holidays in the same house as Petunia. "Which one of your aunties is getting married?"
"Ruth. I'm really happy for her, I didn't even know she was engaged," Mary said and peeked under her bed. "Did any of you see if I packed that orange flower dress already?" She would be so annoyed to arrive back home and find that she had forgotten it. The whole morning had been like that for her – questioning whether she had already packed this or that last night before going to the End of Term feast while the others milled around on their beds, waiting for her to be done so they could get breakfast and then take the train. "I kinda want to wear it to the wedding."
Hermione scrunched up her face trying to remember, but Dorcas, who was lying on her back on her bed with her head hanging off of it simply said "Why don't you Accio it and if it flies out of your trunk simply stuff it back in?"
They all looked at her as if Dorcas had just told them she knew how to make the Philosopher's Stone. When her trick had worked and Mary had recovered her dress, they made their way to breakfast, still joking about her unexpected brilliance.
The Great Hall was packed when they arrived, the chattering of the students creating a low background hum that made them feel like they had entered a beehive. When they reached the Gryffindor table, her mood soured. Essentially the only space left was directly beside the Marauders.
It wasn't just that she didn't want to see Remus. James had caught up with her on the way to the Great Lake yesterday afternoon and, for the first time, it wasn't his behaviour that made Lily want to avoid him.
He had wanted to apologize for the way he had kept goading Severus at the Lake, for the final comment he had made about him being lucky she and Hermione had been there. It had been a nice gesture, genuinely kind of thoughtful, something she hadn't expected from him. Instead of treating it like that, though, she had essentially bitten his head off before he had even opened his mouth. Accusing him of wanting to harass her into going out with him again, she had threatened to hex him.
James sucked the air in between his teeth, unable to meet her piercing green eyes. He really didn't get it. He hadn't apologized because he wanted to ingratiate himself with her or anything. Mocking Snivellus about Evans and the other girl coming to his defence had been unnecessary and, especially after Remus had told him about how he had heard Lily cry that night in the Common Room when he'd gone back to get his quill, James had felt pretty crappy about it. She hadn't cared, though, and, lying in bed after the End of Term fest he had wondered if he'd really been so utterly unbearable that even an apology didn't matter. And she was apparently still so angry that she couldn't look at him.
She couldn't look at him without feeling almost hot with shame. When he'd told her yesterday why he had wanted to talk to her after she'd threatened him, she had been so flustered that she had accused him of trying to suck up to her and then just stormed away in anger. Only after the feast, when they'd walked almost behind the four boys and James had seemed weirdly quiet, she had wanted to catch up with him and apologize. But then Remus had turned around and smiled softly at her, and suddenly she'd been angry at James all over again.
With a sigh, she slumped down at the very lowest end of the table, putting Hermione and Dorcas between herself and them. He pushed his baked beans around on his plate, suddenly no longer hungry. Then he noticed that the new girl was staring at him.
He just looked so much like Harry. His face was just as thin, his mouth and his voice were exactly the same, his hair was just as messy. But he was a tiny shade darker than Harry, and he lacked the scar and Lily's green eyes. As weird as it always was to look into Harry's eyes in an entirely different face, looking into what was almost but not quite Harry's face was somehow worse. She couldn't wait until she could finally, finally see her best friend again.
Still, she also wondered what she would tell him about his parents. Lily clearly did not like James at all, and from what she had seen so far, he had earned that. Hermione resolved to ask Sirius and Remus about it once she got back and before telling Harry anything.
Suddenly, an owl landed in front of her, almost slapping her tea mug out of her hand. She yelped in surprise but then quickly untied the Daily Prophet from its leg and placed a knut in its little bag instead. It eyed her suspiciously, then pecked at a piece of bacon on her plate and finally took off.
She noticed how white Hermione's face had turned and leaned past Dorcas. Then she saw the headline. It read 'Wedding attacked by so-called Death Eaters, at least Four Killed' and underneath it was a picture of a smokey green skull in the sky, a serpent coming out of its mouth. She had never seen the sign before, but nonetheless, it made Lily's skin crawl.
"What happened?" she whispered.
Hermione's eyes were racing over the article. "They attacked a wedding in Scotland between a Muggleborn named Henry Leach, apparently a distant relation of the former Minister of Magic, and Amelia Malfoy, cousin once removed of Abraxas Malfoy. The Prophet writes that the groom and bride were both murdered by a wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort and is believed to be behind the slew of attacks against Muggle villages by giants and wizards all over the country. Two more people were killed, one of them an Auror who was attending the wedding, but the Ministry believes that the bride and groom were the actual target of the attack," she summarized breathlessly. When she looked up, she realized that the Marauders were listening, too.
She tried to blink away tears and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her, he realized, maybe hug her. It was weird. Remus had only really talked to Hermione once and she'd been rather hostile in the end, but he wanted to reach across the table and do something to make her feel better. Instead, he looked at his friends who had all turned entirely silent. James stared at his plate, a curiously empty look on his face, while Peter's eyes shifted nervously from one face to the next. Only Sirius next to him was staring across the Hall at the Slytherin table as if he was about to storm over and hex them all.
All the other students were still chattering, only their corner of the Great Hall had grown quiet. She met Lily's eyes and suddenly her heart weighed a thousand stones. This was the beginning, they just didn't know it yet. Thinking of Snape suddenly, Hermione looked over her shoulder at the Slytherin table. A gaggle of students, among them Snape and Mulciber, were huddled together, a newspaper spread out in front of them. They for sure knew it was the beginning, and suddenly she wanted to hurt all of them.
"Sirius, no!" James whispered, and with a start she realized Sirius had gotten up. Intuitively, she scrambled off the bench and raced past Dorcas and Lily, jumping into Sirius' way just as he was rounding the lower end of the table.
He almost growled at her. "What are you doing?" The new girl was beginning to get on his nerves. That Regulus was sitting there with Mulciber and Rabastan Lestrange, who was trying and failing not to look pleased at the article in front of him, was more than he could bear.
"Don't, Sirius," She whispered, her bright brown eyes hard and determined. "You'll only get in massive trouble. Attacking them isn't worth it."
"She's right, mate," James said. She hadn't even noticed that he had gotten up and caught up with Sirius. "Just… sit down, okay?" He took a step closer to Sirius, laying a hand on his shoulder.
"Look, you know your parents will give you hell if you get into it with those slimy bastards now. We'll get them back next year." Catching her eyes, he smiled briefly at Granger who got the message, and took a step back. "Come on, Pads."
Sirius unclenched his fists, clenched them again and then relaxed ever so slightly. "Alright," he said begrudgingly, but he couldn't help but shoot Granger an angry look. Why in Merlin's name did she always need to get involved?
Sitting down again, she tried to push away her annoyance at herself for getting involved again. Hermione looked up at the teacher's table. Of course she couldn't be entirely sure, but it almost seemed like Dumbledore was watching her. She wondered what he was thinking about.
Of course it had only been a question of time until they would outright attack the Wizarding World. He had expected something like this, but he hadn't expected it yet. Then again, that might have been foolish: the attack in Bradford had been nearly three months ago and the investigation had almost stalled. Clearly, Riddle felt he and his followers were safe enough from the Ministry's reach to attack them openly.
Still, it seemed like an odd move to Albus. Riddle couldn't be naive enough to belief that Minchum wouldn't do everything in his power to arrest those responsible for the attack. The Minister was still new enough in his position to be on shaky ground, and Minchum surely remembered that it had partly been the stalling of the Bradford investigation that had cost his predecessor her job.
It dawned on him then. It was actually a genius move: Minchum had to find those who had attacked the wedding, and quick, or he would be seen as weak by the general public. But if he was seen as reacting too harshly, especially while failing to provide results, his administration's standing would be damaged even more. And the target had been well chosen, too: Nobby Leach becoming the Minister for Magic as the first ever Muggleborn had angered many of the old families, and that another Muggleborn relative of his had been about to marry a Malfoy must have enraged them again. Even those Purebloods who had been more on the fence about supporting Riddle would be convinced now – especially if the Death Eaters managed to evade justice.
It had started almost five years ago, with ever increasing disappearances of Muggles. At first, it had been those on the fringes of Muggle society, those considered irrelevant and dispensable. He had tried to keep track of them all, of their names, but it had been impossible – especially as Riddle stopped only killing those the Muggles wouldn't miss. The stack of Missing Person flyers and newspaper clippings had numbered between two and three hundred when Riddle had started to kill more and more Muggles who were related to witches and wizards. The Ministry still hadn't really cared, pretending it was a coincidence. Then, almost two years ago, the attacks by werewolves had gone up dramatically, and nine months later, Riddle, half a dozen of his followers and two giants had for the first time laid waste to a small Muggle town in North Wales. A couple there had just had their first child – a witch.
He remembered how he had essentially pleaded with Minchum to reopen the investigation into that specific massacre. But he also hadn't wanted to acknowledge the truth: that Riddle already had contacts and allies inside the Ministry. Riddle could not have known about the birth of a child with magical abilities to Muggle parents otherwise. But Minchum, just like his predecessor Bankins, had preferred to think of it as a coincidence.
Looking down the long trestle tables towards the Gryffindors at the very end of the hall, Albus wondered how much longer it would take until the enmities of the coming war would become fully formed among the students. The seeds of it were already there, of course, and had been for a while. He resolved to talk to Horace about which Slytherin students needed to be observed more closely. And to Minerva, too, not just about Miss Granger, but about Sirius Black as well.
She had noticed the commotion at the end of the Gryffindor table, too, and for the first time she was grateful for Miss Granger's presence. Minerva had not looked forward to breaking up a fight between Sirius Black and any of the Slytherins on the very last day of school, even as her stomach turned at the thought that Mulciber and some of his house mates were actually celebrating the attack. The years to come would be challenging, she knew.
He didn't know how he knew it, but he felt like something had shifted the moment he had heard the new girl talk about the attack and now he couldn't shake the feeling. Walking alongside his best mates towards the Hogsmeade train station, Sirius felt more unsettled and anxious about the summer holidays than ever.
Going back to Grimmauld Place had never been something he looked forward to, but this year he wanted nothing more than to turn around and walk back up to the castle.
After his first return from Hogwarts, his parents had met him with icy coldness at the train station. Walburga's eyes had been hard as stones, and Orion had looked at a point just above his head the entire time. Once they had gotten back home, they had laid out the rules for his stay at Grimmauld Place. Sirius was banned from eating with the rest of his family, especially in the evenings, unless they had company. If they had company, he was not to speak unless spoken to and any mention of Gryffindor or his 'little gaggle of blood-traitor friends', as Walburga called them, earned him days locked up in his room without food. He was to ask if he wanted to use the rooms used by the entire family, and if they did not wish to spend time with him, he had to return to his own room with no questions asked.
He wondered what was going through his best friend's head. The first two years, Sirius had been oddly overexcited on the way to the train but he'd turned more and more quiet the closer they got to London. After their third year, he had been tense and snappish. Now, he seemed like he was more than ready to hex the first person that got on his nerves. James only hoped Snivellus didn't run into them, and that Sirius would be able to come stay with him for a bit.
The visits at Potter Manor had always been a highlight for him. Intent to keep up appearances, his parents had let him write letters and stay with the Potters, a shock to Sirius when he had first asked. But they had also always tried to keep him busy and supposedly in touch with his 'heritage'. One summer, he had to study the Black lineage and re-draw the family tree from memory, and only been allowed to see James when he had gotten it right. The next year, he had to read and copy ancient family diaries – a tradition he had always found ridiculous, this incessant, self-obsessed record keeping – and sometimes he had to study the history of the Pureblood families in general. After his third year, when they had heard that he had started taking Muggle Studies, they had locked him into a room in the cellar with a particularly nasty stack of Pureblood propaganda books. He had only been given food when he could parrot back the disgusting sentiments expressed about Muggles and Muggleborns believably enough.
For the first year at least, it had been bearable: Regulus had still had his back, more or less. At least enough to sneak him food as often as he could whenever Sirius hadn't had his big mouth under control. That had slowly changed when Regulus had started school. Looking at his younger brother, meandering along once again with Mulciber, holding himself exactly like Orion did, he decided not to dwell on it. Too painful.
He saw Sirius look ahead at the group of Slytherins and instinctively threw an arm around his shoulder. Putting him in a headlock, James ruffled through Sirius' hair. "So, when exactly am I going to see your ugly mug again?"