Previously: Lily and Alice run into James and Sirius at the World Cup. She tries to keep it civil for the sake of James's parents, but since Sirius hasn't forgiven her for the end of third year, he purposefully makes it very awkward. They say nothing else to each other as the game starts.


Chapter 47: The Storm Comes

Severus found himself in awe of the room he stood in. It was hard not to: splendid oil paintings whose subjects still talked with the style of Old English and had retained their color despite hundreds of years having passed since they had first been painted; gleaming suits of armor that put the Hogwarts ones to shame; and a magnificent stone dragon that took up an entire corner by itself, instantly capturing the attention of everybody who entered the room. And that was just small part of the reason that the Lestrange Manor commanded respect throughout the Wizarding community.

Of course, Severus did not let himself show the rest of world his personal feelings, and he had not for a long time.

"Impressive, huh?" asked a voice from behind him.

Though he was startled, Severus did not jump and only answered coolly, "I was thinking more along the lines of 'theatrical', but that would also work – though I hardly see why you would be impressed, Regulus. After all, I'm sure the House of Black wasted no less expenses in decorations than the Lestranges."

Regulus drew himself up, and Severus was struck yet again by the resemblance to Sirius Black, Regulus's older brother and Severus's hated enemy. The same arrogance that tainted Black also surrounded Regulus, and Severus found that despite Regulus's close connections to Slytherin and his lack of a mate with the name "James Potter", the haughty expression in those grey eyes still stuck a nerve in Severus, and for a brief moment, he felt the sudden desire to punch Regulus.

"My family is different," protested Regulus, his voice more defiant than anything. "We see no need to fill the house with useless embellishments. We prefer to place more importance on the ancient relics of our ancestors, not pretty figurines." Here, he cast the stone dragon a lofty look of superiority before turning and walking away with his nose practically in the air.

"Of course," muttered Severus, much too quiet for Regulus's retreating ears to hear, "Because that's not a waste of space either."

Severus did not leave the room yet, though. Instead, he contemplated the dragon standing in front of him, letting his mind wander – something that in and of itself was a rare occurrence, for imagination held only a little more importance in this world than rainbows and kittens.

We are not so different from each other, you and I, thought Severus, gazing up at the stone dragon. We do everything we can to make our presence known, but in the end, people pass us by like we're nothing more than decorations.

That was a feeling Severus was familiar with, something he had been used to for his entire life. Growing up, his father paid about as much attention to him as the wall – at least, when he was sober enough to realize that he had a son. His mother had not been much better either; Eileen Prince was always too wrapped up in her own sorrow to notice her son's as well. It had gotten much better when he arrived at Hogwarts, but still – to people like Mulciber and Avery, whose blood was as pure as a pure-blood could get, Severus was merely the quiet, clever accomplice who many people passed by without so much as a second thought while he helped the main attraction of Slytherin from the shadows. He was practically a ghost to everybody.

Everybody except Lily.

Severus felt a familiar ache in his chest at the thought of his closest friend. He desperately wished that she was there with him at that moment, filling the dark, intimidating halls with her laughter. To her, he was no ghost – he was simply the friend who was always there for her, just as she was always there for him. Around Lily, he did not need to keep the stoic front he always kept up whenever around anybody else. Severus could just be the carefree boy he always longed to be.

Of course, he could not ignore that their relationship had changed when they arrived at Hogwarts, no matter how desperately he wanted it to stay the way it had been when they were little children. Severus was no idiot – he knew what Avery and Mulciber would think if they ever discovered just how deep his and Lily's friendship ran. And for that reason, Severus had been forced to keep that part of his life secret, meeting up with Lily only when he was certain that there was nobody else around to see the two of them together.

"Severus Snape? Henley was sent by Master Lestrange to summon you," squeaked a tiny voice next to his elbow.

Severus nearly jumped at the interruption, but he managed to contain himself, instead just looking down at one of the Lestrange's many house-elves, who was dressed in a yellowing pillowcase with three holes roughly cut out to allow a head and two arms to poke through the fabric. The house-elf looked up at him with big brown eyes over a squash-like nose, and at the sight of such a pathetic creature, Severus knew exactly what Lily would have told him if she were here.

Summon you? Summon you! Who the bloody hell do the Lestranges think they are, "summoning" you anywhere? Come on, Sev. If they are too lazy to come down here to get you themselves, they don't deserve any of your time. You're better than any of them – let's just get out of here, Sev.

"Mister Snape?" repeated the house-elf, jerking Snape from his thoughts. "Master would like to see you now."

"Yes," said Severus, shaking his head sharply to clear it of that dangerous imagination, "Yes, of course."

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ 1974 ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Lily had thoroughly enjoyed her time at the World Cup. The match itself was far better than anything she could ever hope to witness at Hogwarts – the players had been blurs, the techniques had been exquisite, the Bludgers had been brutal, and the Kalanoro had been most entertaining when the Syrian Seeker managed to catch the Snitch after an incredible chase with the Malagasy Seeker, cinching Syria's victory. But by far, the best part had been when, at the very end of the match, everybody – Lily and Alice included – Transfigured their Dissimulators back into their wands, and Royston Idlewind, much to Lily's amusement, stormed out of the Top Box, absolutely furious that nearly everybody present had managed to evade his wand ban and flaunted their Untransfigured wands in his face.

Nevertheless, she felt a sigh of relief as she felt her feet touch the soft carpet of her living room, stepping out of her family's fireplace. Straightening up, Lily dropped her things next to the fireplace – she would get them later – and brushed off the remnants of the Floo powder the Prewetts had lent her so she could get back to her house.

"Mum! Dad! I'm home!" yelled Lily, straightening her clothes.

In response, however, there was only silence. Though Lily did not notice it for another couple of seconds, it did not take long for her to grasp that nobody had heard her pronounce that she had arrived.

"Mum? Dad?" called Lily, frowning as she approached the kitchen in search of her family. "Hello? Anybody home?"

Ducking through the arch, Lily searched for any sign as to where her family had disappeared to, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Lily was about to continue to the garage to see if the cars were there when something caught her eye on the table – a torn envelope and two pieces of paper, which had been slightly crinkled as if somebody had sprayed mist over it.

Lily brushed a stray hair away from her face as she peered down at the envelope. Though the letter itself was rather small, it looked very official, like something the government might send a newly-printed passport in, and up in the corner a blue cross highlighted the words in front of it, which read Cokeworth Clinics followed by its address, which Lily knew from the experience of annual check-ups was about a twenty-minute drive from her house. The letter was addressed to her father.

Even though the angel on her shoulder was whispering for Lily to walk away that second, warning her that her parents' medical information was absolutely none of her business, the devil on the other shoulder was pushing her to read the letter – Lily decided to listen to the devil, smoothing out the crinkles so that she could read it better.

Dear Mr. Richard Evans,

This is a curtesy letter to remind you of your appointment this Saturday, July 20th at 2:00 pm regarding the lab results of your tests Tuesday, July 9th. You will be meeting with Dr. Ariel Sulle to discuss your lymphoma treatment at Cokeworth Clinics, and she will also discuss options previously unavailable to you at previous visits. If you have any conflicts or questions regarding your appointment, please call us at (0121) 496-0711.

Sincerely,

Reba Frain

"Lymphoma?" murmured Lily in confusion.

That made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Just a couple days ago, her father had seen her off to the World Cup, smiling and waving right alongside her mother. He had been healthy as a happy hippogriff, but now… He had cancer? How could she have missed that? And by the sound of the letter, it was not a new development either. How long had this been going on? Did Petunia know? Did her mother know?

Snap!

Lily jumped at the sudden interruption, whirling around without hesitating to draw her wand.

"Meow."

"Crackerjack, you scared me," breathed Lily with relief, stuffing her wand back into her pocket and bending down to scoop up her cat. She hoisted the feline onto her hip and held him against her cheek as Lily closed her eyes and whispered, "You wouldn't happen to know where Dad went, do you, Crackerjack?"

Crackerjack tilted his head and gave another "meow" in response, to which Lily simply sighed.

"I mean; it's not like it can be advanced – or whatever doctors call it. Right? He would look sicker if it was to the point that we needed to worry … but it's still cancer, so …"

But Lily could do nothing to keep her voice from trailing off. Yes, it could be local and perfectly treatable, but at the same time, it was cancer. How many people died each year from cancer? Too many to count. Lily looked down at the letter again, but the word "lymphoma" was just as clear as it had been the first time. Her father, her loving, devoted father who had taught her to ride a bike, cheered her on at every one of her football matches, stood on Platform 9¾ to see her off the Hogwarts…

The sound the front door opening jerked her from her thoughts, and Crackerjack leaped out of Lily's arms as she rushed to the entrance, the letter in her hand.

"… Rose, honey, you really don't have to this each time we come home from the doctor's office," said Mr. Evans's voice.

"Oh, Richard, honestly – just shut up and accept my help for once. You're much too stubborn for your own good, you know. Dr. Sulle told you to take it –"

"Dad."

Even though Lily spoke softly from her spot at the end of the hallway, her one-word utterance was filled with enough emotion to stop both of her parents dead in their tracks. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had been busy fighting each other over who got to turn the door handle and hold it open for the other, but at Lily's voice, they both looked up at the exact same time, the doorknob all but forgotten. Mr. Evans's eyes flickered down to the letter in Lily's hand, and he closed his eyes, sighing.

"Lily. We didn't know you would be home so early," he said wearily.

Lily ignored her father's comment. She instead held up the letter, an eyebrow raised as she silently begged him to deny it. To her horror, however, Mr. Evans's sigh only deepened, and he did nothing to repudiate what the letter said.

"Lily, your mother and I … we were going to tell you and your sister, but we couldn't decide when it would be a good time to let you know," said Mr. Evans. Though his voice was even and steady, it did nothing to help calm Lily.

"How long have you two known?" asked Lily, and she could not stop her voice from quivering at the end.

"Right before your third year ended. Luckily, they caught it early when I went in to get my annual blood tests," said Mr. Evans before Mrs. Evans took control of the situation, leading a still dazed Lily back into the kitchen.

"I'm sure you have lots of questions, sweetie," said Mrs. Evans, rubbing her daughter's arm, "And we'll answer them in due time. But how about we wait for Petunia to get here – that way she knows everything too. Okay?"

Lily could not think of anything to say to her mother otherwise, so she simply nodded.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ 1974 ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

When James came down for breakfast with Sirius, who was finishing his holiday at the Potters, he had expected to find Dilly calmly serving his parents food while his father ranted about the most recent Daily Prophet article, whatever it may be, while his mother shushed him to quiet down before their son woke up and came down for breakfast. That was their routine: Mr. Potter made his thoughts on the current state of affairs clear, Mrs. Potter scolded him to save it for when they were not at the table, James pressed his father for more information while ignoring his mother's stern looks, and throughout it all, Dilly always managed to outdo himself on their food. That never changed, not even when Sirius came over.

But today, James came downstairs to a chaotic scene.

His parents were not sitting at the table getting served breakfast while the rainstorm rage outside. Instead, both of them were scrambling to get ready for the day – or more, specifically, outside. Mrs. Potter had forgone her robes and jewelry. Instead, she had opted for clothes that James highly suspected were not from Madam Malkin's or any other Wizarding shop: thick jeans, a sturdy pair of boots, and a flannel shirt. She had not bothered to do anything fancy with her hair, opting for a simple bun. His father was wearing similar clothes, and they were obviously getting ready to face the storm that raged just behind their windows.

"Are you sure James and Sirius can't stay at the McKinnon's house or somewhere while we're gone?" asked Mrs. Potter, tugging on her raincoat while thunder boomed outside. She had not seemed to notice that both her adopted and biological sons were up yet.

"For the last time, Euphemia, they're fourteen. I don't think we'll be gone long enough to warrant a babysitter – the boys can take care of themselves for a day, and if anything does happen, Dilly will make sure everything's okay. Won't you, Dilly?"

Mr. Potter paused what he was doing (casting Impervious Charms on his and his wife's hats) to send a meaningful look to Dilly, who dutifully bowed low and solemnly said, "Dilly will do what he needs to for Master James – but Dilly does hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me too, Dilly. Me too," said Mr. Potter quietly returning to the task at hand.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" demanded James, finally making his presence known. Beside him, Sirius was silent but just as confused.

"James! Sirius! We thought you would be sleeping in – we only just got back from the World Cup, after all. You two must be tired," said Mrs. Potter. However, she did not pause to allow herself to be surprised, instead continuing to pull on her rain gear.

"What's happening?" demanded Sirius, giving both of James's parents an expectant look. Neither of them budged from their spots: James on the fourth-to-last step on the grand staircase and Sirius two steps above.

"Manchester's in a spot of trouble right now," explained his father as he too pulled on a rain jacket. "Dumbledore asked us to help – the Aurors are stretched too thin to cover everything, and Magic Shield teams are hurting, even with the Order's help."

"Order? What Or – I thought you were retired from Magic Shield!" spluttered James, staring at both of his parents with concern.

He knew that his parents had been heavily involved in Magic Shield in the past, but they had stopped receiving missions – which required no shortage of physical stamina – a long time ago. His parents were simply not as young as they once were. And if people like Stoughton, who had been in his prime, could be killed right under Dumbledore's nose, he shuddered to think of what could happen to his parents.

"They need all the help they can get, James," explained Mr. Potter, reverting back to his quiet, controlled voice in an effort to reassure his son. "St. Mungo's is going to be overrun shortly. They and the Ministry are going to need all hands-on-deck for this one – it looks like Voldemort's finally managed to recruit some giants to his side."

His efforts, though, to keep James calm while he explained what was happening had the opposite effect.

"I'm going," said James suddenly, moving to push past his parents to where his jacket hung. "I'm helping you."

"Me too," said Sirius.

"You are most certainly not going with us, James Potter – you or Sirius," said Mrs. Potter, and she caught James before he could make it past his parent's blockade, giving him the sternest look he had ever seen on his mother's face – which was saying a lot.

"I will not have my fourteen-year-old son within ten miles of those monsters. And Sirius, I know I'm not your mother, but under my roof, you follow my rules – and right now my rules say that I don't want either of my boys in so much danger."

Sirius looked torn between whether to repudiate what Mrs. Potter said or to accept that, even at the most inconvenient times, Mr. and Mrs. Potter had decided to step up as the parents that he never had. He must have decided to do the latter because he kept his mouth silent, though his eyes still clearly stated he wanted to help in whatever way he could.

"Dad!" yelled James, turning instead to his father, hoping that he would give an answer different from his mother. "Tell Mum that Sirius and I can take care of myself."

However, his father was just as resolute in his decision as his mother was, and firmly shook his head as he said, "Absolutely not, James. It is way too dangerous for you. If you think that school arguments have given you enough experience to go up against Death Eaters and giants, then I will tell you that those things are on two completely different levels. You've had three years of classroom instruction, James – these people we'll be dealing with have been casting Unforgivable Curses since before you were born, and I won't even try to justify fighting giants."

"But I want to help!" protested James.

"No – and don't even think about sneaking off when we're gone. Dilly!" called Mr. Potter.

Dilly dutifully appeared with a crack! He once again sunk into a low bow and said, "Yes, Master Potter?"

"Dilly, do not let James and Sirius out of your sight until we get back home. They are not to leave the house, and they most certainly are not allowed to come with us. If they try to follow us, I give you my permission to use all your magic to keep – them – in – this – house." ordered Mr. Potter, and for the first time, James was not thankful that they had a loyal house-elf who did not even bother to try to figure out a loophole.

"Not to leave the house. Master Potter has Dilly's word," said Dilly, his long nose almost touching the ground. This time, Dilly did not disappear, instead fixing his gaze on the two boys.

Mrs. Potter pulled Sirius into a hug before she turned to do the same to James, adding an extra kiss on the cheek and whispering, "We'll be back, Jaime. Don't worry about us. We love you so much."

After she released James, Mr. Potter grasped his shoulder, giving him a long, level look as he said, "If Voldemort is still a threat in a couple of years, maybe you two will be old enough to help defeat him – until then, though, you need to stay here, where it is safe."

With that final good-bye, both Mr. and Mrs. Potter exited the foyer and entered the thunderous storm. Sirius solemnly descended the stairs, taking his time, but James raced up to the little window on their door just in time to watch his parents grab each other's hands as they reached the edge of the Anti-Disapparition Jinx over their home and disappear with a small pop!

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ 1974 ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

From her perch near the stove where she was currently making herself a luxury breakfast that she had yet to find at the Gryffindor table (chocolate chip pancakes) Lily watched cautiously as her father reached for the morning paper, analyzing his every movement for the smallest sign that he might need help, ready to jump in just in case. She knew that her father would not approve of being coddled – he had told Mrs. Evans several times this morning already – but Lily was not willing to take any chances, not when it came to her father's health.

It was so weird. Lily had thought she had seen strange what with everything she had to deal with at Hogwarts, but she had expected those things to change. Richard Evans, however, was a rock – he was always there, steady and able to handle whatever his two daughters threw at him. He never wavered. No matter what the circumstances were, Lily had always known that she could count on him being there, same as her mother, giving Lily the kind of love and encouragement only a parent could give.

But her rock was now cracked.

"Wait, Daddy," said Lily, quickly maneuvering around the kitchen island. "Let me get it."

She reached the paper before her father did and handed it to him.

Mr. Evans sighed as he said, "You're just like your mother, you know that? I'm not a house of cards that will fall at the slightest touch. I'm fine, really, Lilykins – I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Dad. You have cancer, and even the doctors can't predict what's going to happen," said Lily, firmly handing him the paper. "Now I made you some tea, and you –"

"Lily, really. You shouldn't be making a fuss over me," interrupted Mr. Evans.

Lily simply frowned and held out the cup full of tea.

"Drink," she ordered.

The two of them may have shared the same stubbornness, but at that moment, Lily's edged out for the win when Mr. Evans finally relented and accepted the cup of tea, and only after she was sure that her father would drink all of it, rather than simply taking a sip to appease his daughter, did Lily return to her pancakes.

"This is not how you should be spending the week before leaving for Hogwarts, Lily," said Mr. Evans as he started to flip through the morning paper. "Petunia is enjoying her day by shopping at the mall with some friends – you could still join her."

Lily only suppressed her snort for her father's sake.

After her parents had come clean to both of them several days ago, Petunia had taken every opportunity to escape the house. Lily was not sure if it was because her sister did not want anybody to see her tears or if she was scared. Either way, Lily was still just as furious – their father had always been there for them, but now when he needed his family the most, Petunia had run away. Her father had taken it in stride, insisting that Petunia only needed space and time to process the information, but Lily could see how hurt her mother was by Petunia's actions even though Mrs. Evans had not attempted to follow her.

What a coward, thought Lily as she flipped her pancake.

"… Lily? Lily, did you hear me?" came her father's voice, snapping Lily from her thoughts.

"Sorry, what?" asked Lily, looking up briefly from the pancakes.

"I asked you to turn on the TV," repeated Mr. Evans, and only then did Lily notice the strange, closed-off look that had come over her father's face as he stared at the front page of the newspaper.

Lily frowned and asked, "What channel?"

"Any news station probably," her father replied. "I don't think they'll be playing anything else."

Completely bewildered, Lily did as her father told her and leaned over to turn on the little telly on their kitchen counter. At first it was just static, but as Lily slowly twisted the knob, a picture slowly evolved from the gray flickering into shapes of people on the screen as the audio transformed from useless crackling into actual words that could be distinguished.

"… even though authorities are still piecing together what is happening, at least seventy-three casualties have been confirmed so far, though that number is expected to rise, Don. Behind me, you can see the firefighters are currently trying to put out several fires. Beyond that, we are still waiting for the authorities to give the all clear in other parts of Manchester. We are not sure what is the cause behind the destruction, but authorities have not ruled out foul play yet."

The reporter face was grave as she addressed the camera while a heavy fog surrounded her. The only spot of color were distant, bright orange flames that flickered in and out as firefighters shot gallons upon gallons of water on it. Other than that, everything was covered in a dull grey with buildings only visible from their tinted silhouettes. Sirens wailed in the background, and people, whether they be policemen, firefighters, or innocent citizens, ran in and out of the foggy clouds, and while some only looked a little windswept, others looked like they had been to Grindelwald's War and back. One person's shirt was soaked in blood.

That was when Lily saw it: a sinewy leopard composed of pure silver leaped across the background before disappearing behind the burning building.

"Rawlings?" breathed Lily, eyes squinting at the spot where the leopard had disappeared.

It had only been visible for the briefest amount of time, but there was no denying that it was her ex-professor's Patronus. It was just as clear as it had been during that lesson when Rawlings had demonstrated the Patronus for Lily.

As Lily slowly pieced each little clue together, her heart turned to ice and dropped to her stomach. She knew exactly what was going on even though the reporter herself had no idea. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had decided to take their plans to the next level. Ever since the attack at the Ministry, the violence had regressed and taken a slow but steady route: several higher-ups in the Wizarding world had disappeared, and there had been sporadic fights in areas with a dense Wizarding population. However, even though wizards and witches started to join the list of dead, people had just started to loosen their guard again.

Clearly, Voldemort did not like that – he wanted to be feared.

Well, thought Lily bitterly as she bit her lip and stared at the scene playing out across the TV, he's succeeded.

That had always been the question: whether or not people should prepare for Voldemort. After the Ministry attack, they had accepted that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were willing to kill, but people still debated just how far he would take it. Now there was no room for questions. Before then, the uncertainty and the quiet fear … that had simply been the calm.

This? This was the storm.