Previously: For the first time, James hexes an innocent bystander to show Lily he can. Lily is furious with him. Lily doesn't want to come to the Quidditch game because she can't stand watching James, and even though Alice manages to convince her to come, she leaves early because James is showing off. After the Quidditch game, James is warned not to get too cocky, but he covers up his uneasiness.


Chapter 27: Murder at the Ministry

"If she wasn't such a good teacher, I would murder her," growled Lily under her breath as she stared at the sleeping pigeon that she had "borrowed" from McGonagall's office to practice transforming into a cookie jar. She prodded it again, muttering the spell with a renewed intensity, but once more nothing happened. The only reassurances Lily received was that her basic potion-making skills were still sufficient enough to cause a bird to fall asleep after she had persuaded it into trying some of her Sleeping Draught.

"Why are you poking a pigeon in an empty classroom? Aren't you against animal abuse?" asked Severus's voice unexpectedly from behind her.

Lily rolled her eyes at her friend occupying the doorway leading to what had previously been a solitary room to practice her useless Transfiguration skills.

"Are you just going to stand there like a dolt, or are you going to help me get – this- damn – spell – right?"

She waved her wand with renewed vigor, but as had her other fifty attempts, the pigeon was still a pigeon.

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning," observed Severus, raising an eyebrow at her irritation, but in his eyes there was only amusement at how easily something seemingly insignificant could annoy her. "Here, you're giving it too much flourish, Lily. It's more of a sharp flick – like this."

Severus used the sharp flick in his own movement along with the incantation, and sure enough, they now had a small cookie jar patterned black and green sitting on the table.

"Thanks, Sev," said Lily with a sigh as she collected the cookie jar to put in her bag. "Really, I appreciate it…. Merlin, I don't know why Transfiguration is so hard – and that's with the extra practice too!"

"Lily," chuckled Severus, placing one hand on each of her shoulders. "Lily, calm down. You're still passing, aren't you?"

"I'm passing," grumbled Lily. "Sev, that just means that McGonagall isn't failing me. Passing isn't the same as succeeding, which is what I should be doing in my classes."

Severus laughed once more and linked their arms together, pulling her away from the empty classroom.

"You need a break, Lils. C'mon, supper's going to be ready any minute – I'll walk with you."

Lily reluctantly followed, but Severus once again proved himself a true friend by distracting her from all the academic woes that weighed her down. The conversation was full of random bits, jumping from topic to topic as they neared the babble of students from all houses. Before long, all frustrations tied with her classes dropped from her mind as the two strolled at a leisurely pace down to the Great Hall, quickly falling back onto their old ways.

The entrance to the dining hall finally came into view, and Lily was about to enter when she felt Severus's arm leave hers. Surprised, she turned around to see that Severus had come to a stop. He stood there nervously and glanced between Lily and something on the far side of the corridor, looking hesitant. Dismayed, she followed his line of vision to where another group of students headed for dinner, Lycoris Mulciber and Cadmus Avery among them.

"C'mon, Sev," urged Lily quietly, looking back at him and hopelessly tugging on his sleeve. "Who cares if they see you with me? We are best friends after all."

"Lily …" started Severus, the uncertainty in his voice betraying his thoughts. "I can't just ignore them. They accept me – nobody's ever thought of me as a Prince! Don't you understand how important that is to somebody like me? For once I'm looked at as someone who deserves respect, not the half-blood boy who's the Muggle outcast back home."

"And I look at you as my best friend," countered Lily. "The only reason they like you is because of your mother's family, not because you're you, Sev!"

When Severus still did not say anything, she crossed her arms and gave the Slytherins one last distasteful look.

"Fine. I'll see you later, Sev."

"Lily, don't go – wait – just let me explain!" called Severus, but Lily did not turn back, instead striding into the Great Hall and leaving Severus to wait for his "friends".

The Great Hall was bursting with activity while students gathered in groups to converse and relieve themselves of the day's stress. Most of the Gryffindor table was full, but it did not take long for Lily to find her roommates inhabiting their usual spot. All three of them were there, no doubt chattering about the latest gossip Marlene uncovered that day, and Lily quickly headed for them, not even pausing while she passed the Marauders who were covertly trying to charm Davey Gudgeon's goblet to leak his pumpkin juice – though she did aim a healthy glare at Potter who just grinned in response.

"Lily, we saved you a seat!" yelled Alice across the noisy hubbub of conversations.

She waved her over, and Lily wasted no time sliding into the empty spot on Mary's left. Marlene, unsurprisingly, delicately held the newest edition of Witch Weekly in her flawless nails that currently were painted a bright red (she claimed red was a "sassy" color), and Alice had her copy of The Muggle Word open in front of her, though it lay mostly forgotten in the midst of their discussion, as opposed to Marlene's highly-coveted magazine. Mary was the only one who had no distractions in front of her – although for Mary the food alone counted as distraction enough.

"Did you hear?" asked Marlene keenly as Lily helped herself to some food. "Apparently Celestina Warbeck's been having an affair with Irving Warble that's been going on for the past year – her husband only found out a week ago when she and Irving were spotted renting a suite in Venice together!"

"I did not know that," said Lily, finding herself not very interested in the singer she only knew from when Marlene would uncover articles about her in Witch Weekly. "Isn't she the one who's been married twice?"

Alice chuckled at her lack of enthusiasm, and Marlene pouted only slightly when she saw that Lily was much more focused on her potatoes than on the Singing Sorceress.

"Fine, don't care," said Marlene satirically, returning to devour the next page of trivial information. "Where all that passion of yours goes, I haven't the faintest idea, Lily. Haven't you ever just wanted to know trivial things about people?"

Lily shrugged and said, "Not really."

It had been one of those hints indicating the divide between her and Petunia back before Severus had told her about magic, back when Lily would content herself at the breakfast table with weekly issues of Robin while Petunia obsessively followed gossip in her teen magazines and the newspaper, claiming that it was what grown-ups did. While Lily was always jealous that she could never sit still long enough to stumble over words her child's mind did not understand, it was a point of pride with Petunia. But since the two sisters had split apart, Lily no longer felt the need to imitate her older sister like she once had.

Alice waited to make sure that the topic was covered before leaning forward to say something herself.

"I know this has nothing to do with Celestina Warbeck, but I've heard that the Transylvanian Quidditch team –"

Exactly what Alice had heard about the Transylvanian Quidditch team would remain a mystery for the time being because at that moment, dozens of owls flew into the Great Hall.

"I thought the mail already came this morning," stated Mary blankly, staring up at the owls with a look of confusion mirrored by many other students gathered for dinner. Even the teachers were perplexed, and only Dumbledore betrayed no emotions except (unless Lily was mistaken) for the smallest hint of resignation.

"It has to be the Evening Prophet then," said Marlene, eyebrows creased with worry. "But they only send it out when there's really exciting stories, but I haven't heard of any big events that were supposed to take place this week …"

None of the girls offered up any excuses, and Lily watched as one owl soared straight for her, clutching what could have easily been her morning newspaper. When the owl landed, she barely thought about the Knut she placed in the owl's pouch, instead seizing the rolled-up copy of the Evening Prophet. She unfurled it with such haste that the paper nearly ripped from the force, but Lily did not care as she was too busy staring at the front page.

A MINISTRY CRISIS: SOLITARY INCIDENT OR CALCULATED SLAUGHTER?

By Betty Braithwaite

The tragic events that took place at the Ministry of Magic earlier today stunned and horrified every member of the Wizarding World, when word reached many that after a nearly five-hour standoff with Aurors and their associated Hit Wizards, three men who the Ministry now identify as Colombo Dearborn (42), Walter Smart (53), and Timothy Abbott (47) killed themselves and eleven others – as well as injuring many more – in a destructive blast in the Muggle Liaison Office section that rocked the magical world to its core.

Although authorities have yet to confirm whether or not Dearborn, Smart, and Abbott were under the Imperius Curse, eyewitness accounts place the men entering the Ministry of Magic separately around 8:30, 8:50, and 9:00 this morning respectively. Though investigators have yet to paint a clearer picture of the moments between the arrival and the predicament, wizards and witches who were there recalled their harrowing experience, talking of how, one and a half hours later at 10:30, Dearborn entered the Muggle Liaison Office and seized one woman to use as a shield, who has yet to be identified by officials, and threatened to kill her if all employees did not toss their wands into a pile. The other two, Smart and Abbott, created shields to deflect any spells that their soon-to-be hostages sent their way.

"It was the most terrifying moment of my life," says Ms. Hestia Jones, 18, who was an intern stationed in the division and was one of the lucky few to survive the final blast with injuries that the Mediwizards quickly mended. The shell-shocked Ms. Jones could barely talk in coherent sentences to reporters before the Mediwizards whisked her away for further healing. "It was just … I was … numb – petrified, you know? It's all a blur – one minute, I was chatting with my girlfriends about the lunch date we had planned later that day, and then the next thing I know – boom!" Ms. Jones's friends, whose names will not be released until all family members are notified first, are among the eleven others dead while Ms. Jones herself remains severely shaken and is confined to St. Mungo's Hospital until Healers discharge her.

After securing all the witches and wizards in that office at the time, it can be gathered that Dearborn, Smart, and Abbott went about securing the two entrances with numerous spells and detection devices that the Aurors who were called to the scene shortly afterwards did not dare attempt to breach for fear it would set off another, more destructive spell. Millicent Bagnold, the Head Auror who is among the injured but is expected to make a full recovery, had instead sent for a negotiator to talk to the three wizards who did not back down. This stalemate lasted until late into the afternoon when, for reasons yet unknown, the Muggle Liaison Office exploded because of what is thought to be a mixture of a very powerful Blasting Curse, a Ventus Jinx, and an Incineration Spell.

The resulting blast killed Dearborn, Smart, Abbott, and nine innocent wizards and witches inside the office at the time as well as two Aurors who were killed instantly when pieces of flying shrapnel penetrated their bodies. Only three inside the Muggle Liaison Office, including Ms. Jones, survived, and one of the survivors is currently in critical condition at St. Mungo's. They had the luck of crouching behind filing cabinets to escape the brunt of the blast and the blaze that followed. Many others in the surrounding area were also injured, some with minor cuts and some severely burned with the cursed fire, in the disastrous explosion.

Though this kind of bloodshed is by no means normal or accepted, the one mystery that many are struggling to understand is the message Dearborn magically echoed for all to hear right before the inferno overwhelmed the now deceased victims:

This is for those who would oppose me, those who would not wish to understand me, those who would live without the fear upon hearing my name – for it is my name that shall strike fear into the heart of every man, woman, and child upon hearing me. Lord Voldemort … that is the name you will fall asleep to every evening. I am Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord who shall exterminate those unworthy of magic. My disciples and I … we are those who lurk about the shadows at night, who dispose of the worthless, who prowl, patiently waiting, for the perfect moment to strike. Remember this: Lord Voldemort and his faithful Death Eaters will never rest until we have conquered all.

This begs the question of whether Dearborn, Smart, and Abbott were blind devotees determined to show the world what they were capable of, or if they were just as much victims as the others killed in this tragedy and were simply under powerful Imperius Curses. People who knew the perpetrators are demanding for an investigation into who could have Imperiused their friends, claiming that none of them would have committed these atrocities of their own free will. For now, these questions remained unanswered until the Aurors finish their investigation, and many fear that if this Dark Lord and his Death Eaters are truly behind this catastrophe, then this is only the beginning.

(The Ministry has said that it will not comment until the circumstances surrounding the calamity have been fully examined.)

Lily sat there, stunned, while Alice, Marlene, and Mary each read the article in silence, their horrified expressions growing with each sentence they read. All around them, the Great Hall dimmed as word of the tragedy spread from the students who received the Evening Prophet to those who had yet to discover the cause of the tension burning around them. Slowly, low whispers carried through the air as opposed to the happy babble it had been before the owls arrived, and not even the Marauders attempted to lighten the mood, as they were just as shocked as Lily was.

All those innocent people … dead. It was impossible, really, to think about the evil people were capable of, but here was the evidence, staring Lily right in the face, clear as day.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ 1972 ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

James had never really considered just how terrible some people really were. The news about the bloodshed at the Ministry had reached pretty much everybody by the time that he and the other Marauders sat down for a much more subdued Transfiguration class the next morning. It was impossible to crack random jokes and fancy about gluing all the students to their chairs when the typical Daily Prophet reported in even greater detail the carnage and several students, including a boy from their year named Terry Abbott, had been pulled out of breakfast to inform them of injured or dead relatives.

"I know by now that all of you have heard about the events that occurred at the Ministry this time yesterday," said McGonagall solemnly as the bell rang, startling a shaken Mary Macdonald into dropping one of her textbooks. "No doubt you have heard many versions, whether they are true or aren't, and if any of you must leave sometime to visit Madam Pomfrey to deal with the pain we are all feeling, I will not stop you."

Most students paid attention as McGonagall continued her speech, but James noticed Mulciber and Avery whispering in the back with their heads together. They did not look sad or scared, just satisfied, and he felt a hot surge of anger towards them and the people behind the attack. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do, so with great effort, he forced his attention to focus again on McGonagall.

"But the Headmaster has agreed that we will continue classes normally, albeit allowing for students who still need time to grieve. Not to do so would fall right into step with those Death Eaters," – there was a heavy note of hatred as McGonagall spoke their name – "hopes to disrupt our daily lives. Now, we will be reviewing …"

The class continued like that, and McGonagall paired them up to practice transforming porcupines into pincushions. Per usual, James was with Sirius, and as the both of them had already mastered the spell when first learning it, there was not anything academic blocking them from discussion.

"I'm dreading going home even more now that this has happened. My parents will be ecstatic, just you wait. It'll be Voldemort this, Voldemort that, Voldemort knows…. Merlin, I don't think I've ever seen Bellatrix so happy since the Sorting Hat placed her in Slytherin," growled Sirius, prodding the pincushion that he had already transfigured with an angry jerk of his hand.

"You're more than welcome to stay with us again, mate. Mum's going to adopt you herself sometime soon since she loves you so much," muttered James, still eyeing Mulciber and Avery with dislike.

"Thanks, mate," said Sirius with a cheerful smile that still did not quite cover the angry spark in his eyes. "Doesn't surprise me – Sirius Black is quite the ladies' man after all."

"Oh, shut up," said James.

The bell rang soon afterwards, dismissing them all for lunch, and Remus was the only one of the four boys who bothered to take the time to scribble down the homework McGonagall assigned them. James waited impatiently while other students filed out the door, and when Remus was done, he and Sirius walked as quickly as they dared under the watchful eye of their professor, though the events still weighed heavily on everybody's minds.

Though life was by no means back to normal, some invisible load had lifted by the time classrooms and academics had vanished from his mind when the Marauders made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. Students milled around them, either waiting for friends in other classes or awaiting the delicious food the house-elves had no doubt cooked up. There was still the shadow of something sinister lurking around them in the glances at the anxious students whispering quietly in little groups, but James found himself grateful for Hogwarts's resilient ability to survive and bounce back from anything – though if the sober faces were any hints, it might take a little bit for things to eventually return to normal.

"What's going on down there?" asked Remus suddenly, bringing their little entourage to a stop as he pointed down the small corridor to the right of the grand staircase. It was the same route James often took to Potions, but now there was a small crowd hidden from many students' views.

"Let's find out," said Sirius.

He and James both hurried forward, leaving Remus and Peter to scurry after them. As they drew nearer to the scene playing out in front of them, a feeling of dread slowly grew in the pit of James's stomach. The first indication that something was amiss was when James noticed that one of the groups contained three Slytherins: Mulciber and Lestrange, both of who were gleeful, and a third one that James did not know but whose face looked familiar. On the other side, it was Macdonald and Evans – the two Gryffindor girls frequently slighted for their lineage – and Macdonald looked frightened while Evans was flat-out angry.

"… and last I checked, Mulciber," snarled Evans, growling the boy's name as scathingly as possible, "you and you're little Death Eater pals are just a bunch of bullies who can't get past those jinxed Probity Probes you lot seem to have permanently rammed up those unattractive arses of yours. What makes you think that you're anything besides sniveling little cowards who hide behind a couple of masks?"

James simply loved it when Evans yelled at somebody besides him. Hardly anything was more entertaining that watching her throw highly imaginative insults at people who deserved no less, and when he simply had to sit back and enjoy the show, it was times like that when he wished Evans conspired with them to improve already-hilarious pranks. For a twelve-year-old, her words certainly packed a punch.

Mulciber took a step closer, but Evans did not back down – though Macdonald certainly looked like she wanted to bolt.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, you filthy little –"

Bang!

The boy howled when James's spell hit him in the face, cutting off anything he might have called Evans. Mulciber clutched his face as bright red, painful boils erupted from the neatly placed Pimple Jinx, and the other two Slytherins jumped in surprise before whipping around to identify the curser. At the sight of James and Sirius, both who held their wands ready, they looked wary of starting a duel against the Marauders, Macdonald, and Evans combined.

"My bad," said James with a fake cheerfulness that concealed the anger he felt bubbling within him, though he was in no way sorry for cutting Mulciber off before he could get out that awful word. "Wand must've slipped – you know how excited this thing can get when I see people who I really don't like."

The last part was said with such pointedness that not even a git like Lockhart could have mistaken it.

Mulciber, still whimpering from the stinging pimples that disfigured his face, glared at James and the Marauders.

"You're just as disgraceful as those Muggles you dirty yourself with, Potter – blood traitors, the lot of you."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Mulciber," said James brightly, examining his jinxed face with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Now I think there's a bed up in the hospital wing – with your name written all over it, no less."

The thought of fighting a three-vs-six duel was clearly not what Mulciber envisioned himself enjoying, but as there was nothing else the Slytherins could do to them at the moment, he gave the Gryffindors one last hateful look before hurrying to Madam Pomfrey who would no doubt fix him in a jiffy, waving for his other two lackeys to follow him. James watched his lips move as he muttered things under his breath but chose to ignore it.

"You didn't have to interrupt, Potter," muttered Evans after the Slytherins were out of earshot.

At first, James thought that she was still annoyed over the incident with the Ravenclaw girl until Evans added, in a voice so low that James could hardly hear her, "I would have happily jinxed him myself."

The grin James gave her was not one he used often.

"I was looking out for you, Evans – after all, you and I both have reputations to uphold. How could I live with myself knowing that I could have prevented the oh-so-wonderful and rule-abiding Lily Evans from getting detention."

For the first time since they had first met back at Madam Malkin's, way before James had struck up a rivalry with her, Evans smiled at him. It may have been small and it may have only lasted for the briefest seconds, but smile could not have been mistaken as anything other than what it was: an honest-to-Merlin, genuine smile. Sure, he had seen that expression on her face many times before, but she had never directed it at him – it was the mocking laughter and sarcastic smirks he always received. At that tiny gesture, James felt something flip in his chest that he was unacquainted with, something similar to butterflies fluttering about inside him.

"Thanks, Potter," said Evans after a moment in a tone that was hazardously close to sincerity. "I appreciate it."

On that final note, she took a very suspicious Mary's arm and headed back to join the rest of her friends in the Great Hall for lunch, the strange sensation James felt disappearing right along with her.


Note: The reason I added the Ministry crises here and didn't just tack it on at the end of where I was in the original story was because it's meant to correlate with Voldemort's rise to power, and I needed a reason (admittedly a completely made-up reason) to have people fear Voldemort's name.