"The most truly generous persons are those who give silently without hope of praise or reward." – Carol Rylie Brink
December 5th, 1975.
It was dark and damp, the only lantern illuminating the corridor flickering dimly in the gloom.
Two people stood in the darkness. The tall man, face hidden by the hood of his robe, was holding a gray parcel wrapped in parchment paper. The girl standing opposite him, whom Thalia could only see from behind, accepted the parchment. There was so little light, Thalia couldn't pick out any details about their appearance, the only guidance was the voices, and they confused her even more.
The man had an excellent bearing and posture, his spine straight as a stick. "Are you sure you're doing the right thing, darling? If you tell me the name–"
His voice was imperious, like he has given many commands by that same voice during his lifetime. But it wasn't cruel at all, more measured and comfortable. The same voice father admonishes a naughty child. His words sunk deep within her years.
"The child must live without your intervention. Its fate has not yet been decided," girl interrupted abruptly.
"I can guide her." His voice sounded so familiar, but Thalia just could place it in her head. She knew this manner, she knew this man, but she just couldn't recognize him. Like her mind was building the wall in front of the part of memory storage he belonged in.
She felt lost, like always. She scraped her consciousness in search of information. She found nothing. It felt unbearable.
The girl put the parchment in the folds of her clothes, and only then answered:
"You had a chance to relieve her of her burden. You did not use it, now the girl must choose her own path."
"I do not punish crimes that have not been committed yet, my child," the man declared sorrowfully.
Suddenly, the girl turned around, as if she felt Thalia's gaze. She seemed to forget about the conversation she was having, she seemed to forget that there even was another person with her.
The stale air became misty, covering the girl's face and figure.
The dark spot, where the face was supposed to be, bore into Thalia.
"Find me!" The voice echoed from the walls. He sounded sharp and harsh, older than a moment ago as if the girl had aged instantly.
"Stop!" Thalia stepped forward, trying to disperse the fog with her hands. But the faster she walked forward, the further she was pulled back, the more her hands tore the mist, the thicker it became.
"I don't know your name!" Thalia yelled in desperation.
"Find me!"
Thalia woke up, sweat streaming all over her body. She dangled her legs off the bed, slipped her wet feet into the terry slippers, and got up.
The clock struck midnight. Thalia took her wand out of the nightstand and whispered "lumos."
It was terribly cold, but the coldness came from the inside. Thalia was sure that even a warming spell would not be able to keep her warm that night.
Thalia opened the bedroom door as quietly as possible so as not to wake her neighbors and ran down the spiral staircase.
The common room, heated by a brightly burning fireplace, was not empty. Thalia did not expect to see someone at such a late hour, but Lily was sitting on the sofa next to the fire, her face exposed to streams of heat, with a textbook in her hands.
"Tasha," Lily whispered in surprise, turning eyes to her sister.
The latter, judging by the horridness in Lily's tone, looked terrible. Indeed, the long brown hair was tangled from sleep, the cotton pajamas were soaking wet and sticking to the body like duct tape.
Lily immediately moved, gesturing in invitation.
Thalia, without thinking twice, dove into Lily's arms, resting her head on a small shoulder in descending freckles.
Lily threw one hand behind Thalia's back, rhythmically stroking her sister's icy leg with the other. Thalia didn't like being touched, and in any other situation she would oppose, but there was no place for personal boundaries and prohibitions with Lily.
"Nightmares again?"
Thalia nodded and tossed some wood from the woodpile with a wave of her wand, feeding the fire.
"She still disappears at the last moment, escapes into the darkness. It feels like I'm just about to see her face, but everything ends as usual ... No answers."
The log flared with tongues of blue flame and split in the fire; Thalia flinched.
"It's just a figment of my imagination, right? I'm not a seer," Thalia whispered uncertainly, and it sounded like a question, though she meant it as an assurance.
Lily paused, her eyes fixed on the fireplace, but Thalia knew her thoughts were wandering somewhere far away.
"We used to think that magic didn't exist. After five years at Hogwarts, you begin to believe that everything has a secret meaning and anything is possible," Lily finally declared, her tone is deadly serious.
Thalia pulled up the blanket and covered them both with it. Lily's hair refracted the gentle light, penetrating its smooth layers. Four years of nightmares had only one remedy – the girl with hair the color of autumn leaves and dear hands.
"You are so beautiful," Thalia thought, watching her sister with great love. Lily was Thalia's best friend, a wonderful gift that fate brought her for some unknown merits. With her Thalia was free. The laughter of this red-haired nymph rose in fertile fields in Thalia's soul, her smile dispelled all the storm clouds, allowing the life-giving rain to fall on the soil of Thalia's existence.
It was easier to breathe with Lily. Sometime Thalia thought she would not have been able to breathe at all if her sister had not been there, by her side.
"What were you doing up so late?" Thalia tried to change the subject.
"I was reading." Lily pulled the previously abandoned book closer so Thalia could see the title. A large-sized tome with massive black metal inlays read: The Crimes of Gellert Grindelwald.
"You said there was nothing to worry about and now you read this," Thalia took the book in her hands disapprovingly, but did not open it. There was no need: if Lily had looked at the spine, at the library notes, she would have seen the name 'Thalia Evans' written in Miss's neat handwriting in the recent users column.
"I still believe that unnecessary worries will lead to nothing good. Voldemort is not Grindelwald," Lily deflected.
"But he could become," Thalia thought, but kept the remark to herself. If only she knew how right and, at the same time, wrong she was. Over time it will become clear that this comparison clearly underestimated the full power of a person without a name. But that would be later, for now, two girls at the fireplace could still enjoy the little piece of childhood they had left.
"I'm worried about Sev," Lily filled the silence of the room.
"He got in touch with bad company," Thalia confirmed.
"Every day I try to explain to him that people like Mulciber bring trouble."
"Sorry to say, Lily, but I believe that Severus, in particular, has absolutely nothing to fear," Thalia said softly, not wanting to offend her sister, but also unable to encourage her love for Snape.
"He's not a bad person," Lily protested, confidence in her words.
"Eternal belief in the best in people is a typical feature of all Evans," Marlene once remarked with a grin.
"Perhaps, but he's not kind. He is different when you are around, more gentle, it's true. And yet he is so embittered with the world that sometimes you forget that he can be."
Lily's cheeks burned with an unhealthy blush. "He's still my friend, and I just want to keep him away from bad influences."
"But he doesn't want that. I'm not telling you to stop your communication, but you should see his flaws too, Lily."
Lily stopped fiddling with a strand of Thalia's hair, which had already become a messy mug. "And if I still see potential in him? If, despite all the flaws, I'm sure he could be ... better?"
Thalia met her sister's gaze and said, not to reassure, but absolutely sincerely:
"Then I believe you. Then he can be."
Lily exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding.
Hours later, when they were heading back to their quarters, Lily stopped at the doorsteps of Thalia's bedroom. She eyed Thalia when she was just about to sneak into the room and said something Thalia was not expecting at all.
The corner of Lily's mouth quirked up when she was saying what pinned Thalia to the spot. "Good luck with the race, littlest. I bet Potter will be swallowing the dust today."
The field they decided to meet was quite, incredibly so. Marlene kept the promise and didn't show up which was a miracle by itself, considering the girl's curiosity. Hagrid probably went to feed the creatures in the forest, so only a stream of smoke from the chimney of the hut broke the complete pacification of nature.
Thalia came a little earlier: she wanted to watch the solar disk slowly drifting beyond the horizon. The deep orange of the sky gave way to a muted pink, coloring the vast skies in the shades of fresh spring flowers.
"Just like the peonies in our garden," Thalia though. She stretched out her hand, as if in an attempt to grasp the last rays of the setting sun, but they slipped through her fingers, the horizon line dragged them, leaving only clouds in the sky. Having lost their golden tint, the clouds were circling above her head like the flock of little grey sheep.
James lingered, and somewhere deep in her heart, she hoped that he would never appear, and she would remain standing here, alone to meet the approach of night.
"Sorry, I couldn't get away from Peter, he kept following me," a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. "Ready to lose?"
James swapped out his school gown for black jeans and a coat with a huge Montrose Magpies logo. Instead of his brand new Nimbus, he held a battered school broom, the same as Thalia. She was not against Nimbus, but it was nice of him to equalize their chances to the maximum.
"You are right on time, I was just wondering how quickly you would lose the sight of me," Thalia smiled, tearing her gaze away from the horizon.
He caught up with her, giving her 'I'll charm everyone' smile, which drove crazy more than one naïve girl (and for which Thalia definitely developed immunity).
"Don't worry, I don't think I'll look back at all."
There was genuine excitement in his eyes. So carried away, just like a child.
Hands tense, Thalia saw him lean forward slightly with his chest, and his glasses shifted a fraction of an inch on his perfectly shaped nose. Half of the school was head over hills for James Potter, while the other half were male, which, by definition, equaled to being envious of him. And of course, we must not forget about Lily, who could not stand even the reminder of his persona. At the crossroads of opinions regarding Potter, where one sign read 'Adorers' and the other 'Haters', Thalia got stuck somewhere in the middle.
Thalia tossed a flag in the air, which she thoughtfully transformed from a piece of her ripped handkerchief earlier that day. The flag froze in the air just above the chimney , obeying the movement of her hand. Bright fluorescent light emanated from the red fabric.
"We take off at the count of three, fly to the mandragora's fields," she started instructing, "I set the same flag there so that we do not stray from the route, and then we return to the place. The first one to get it," she jabbed her wand into the air, indicating the flag, "wins."
"Seems fair enough to me," James approved.
They sat on the brooms, ready to start any second.
"One," James began the count.
"Two," Thalia bent her knees in a stand.
"Three." They rushed into the height of the skies.
She got ahead of him from the first seconds. They flew to the fields in the settled pace. But James was good, there was no denial of it. He speeded up somewhere third of the way and now was on her tale. He almost outraced her when she was going to catch the first flag. Almost. James Potter might be one of the best flyers in Hogwarts, but being just one of the best wasn't enough when it came to Thalia. The second best was still a second.
His problem was that he was flying to win. He was so eager to be the winner in everything.
Of course, it was the boy who spent hours in the library reading books on sport strategy and manures before every single game. And it was a miracle, considering that in any other situation the only context words 'Potter' and 'Library' went together was with 'not in a million years'.
It was the boy who trained in the rain and snow before every match, who caught the flew like 10 times this year only because of it. The boy who brought victory to his team despite his leg being broken two times (during the same game!). Maybe Potter was a bit cocky at times, but he knew a thing or two about determination. And it was actually … admirable.
Thalia could see a finish line, 5 more feet, and the flag would be in her hands, together with the right to calm Friday nights … and a boy crushed by defeat.
Something flinched in her mind, obscuring the will to win. Was it a sense of empathy or … (Dear god, she would never ever admit it) fondness? She wasn't sure. But she did what she did anyways.
At the final line, Thalia slowed down, letting James forward for a split of a second.
James caught the flag.
They landed, the lights of Hogwarts were glittering from afar.
James jumped off the broom first. She expected him to say something along the 'victory, sweat victory' lines. He didn't.
"It was amazing," James exclaimed.
Thalia brushed pine needles off her jacket,
"It was fun," she admitted.
"Fun? Incredible, not just fun! Why don't you play Quidditch? You would be a great seeker."
"I don't really like sports, James."
"That's it?" he questioned incredulously. "You just never saw the real game, you don't go to matches."
"I do go to matches," the girl calmly objected.
James raised his heavy eyebrows in disbelieve. "It can't be. I would have noticed you in our stands."
Thalia pulled a fur hat out of her pocket and put it on, covering the long caramel waves on her head." I'm rooting for the other team."
James looked like he was struck by lightning.
"Please tell me you're kidding. Otherwise, I will have to follow you in an attempt to prevent leakage of information about our team," he said without a hint of playfulness.
Thalia brushed the ridiculous tickling pompon off her face (Mom seriously needs to reconsider her knitting preferences). "Firstly, I'm not kidding. Secondly, you are following me anyway," this remark did not bother him at all, "thirdly, I would never spy for my or any other team."
James threw up his hands apologetically.
"Got it, no detective investigations. So how come that you are rooting for ...?
"For Ravenclaw. Pandora is the keeper on their team."
She didn't mention that she actually was at every single game. And, of course, she didn't mention the reason she came was because no one else would be chanting Pandora's name otherwise.
James wanted to ask something else, but it was getting colder with every minute, and the perspective to meet the night there didn't seem so appealing to Thalia anymore. The heat of the race was replaced by a feeling of slight fatigue, and she just wanted to get to the dormitories and rest on the soft pillow of her bed.
Thalia shivered and directed the conversation to a more significant matter.
"About the race…" she stopped, thinking that James would be courteous enough to exempt her from saying what she was about to say. Losing was not a tragedy, especially if it was self-inflicted, but admitting the loss was not pleasant nonetheless.
He waited for her to continue. James Potter wasn't going to make it easy on her today, was he?
"It was a fair victory," she finally said. "What is the question you want me to answer?"
"Oh, I won't ask it now," he adjusted the slightly loose rectangles of his glasses. "I will save that privilege for later."
She nodded warily. It was not what she expected, but James Potter surprised her more than once that day.
She wrapped the coat tighter around herself, ready to go.
"Will you allow me to walk you?"
There was a tint of hesitance in the way James said it, the cheekiness is still there, but more blurry, shaded with uncertainty.
They were living a wall apart, in every sense of the phrase. There was literally a single wall between boys and girls' bedrooms. He didn't need to ask her, and she certainly did not need to give him permission to walk the way he was pointing at, considering it was the only one.
She still agreed gratefully.
"Only if you carry the brooms."
James smile light up the night and two figures strode down the slippery road, powdered with snow.
"How does it feel? Losing, I mean."
Here we go again. Has she actually started to feel like he can be a decent human being? Someone punch her.
She poked him with her elbow only to be presented with a barking laugh.
Little did they know how much more both of them won that night.
"You lost? You lost?"
Thalia rolled her eyes at Marlene's mournful tone. "Yes, for the hundred and fifteenth time – I lost."
"And you are not upset? Not one bit?" Lily warily questioned from the corner of the table she was writing her essay at.
Thalia glanced up to the ceiling, trying not to expose the gaiety she was feeling. "Not the tiniest."
And then recognition dawned on Lily's face. "Oh my God, Thalia Evans. You let him win! You let that arrogant, pig-headed git with an ego the size of the soccer field win on purpose !"
"It's just a question. I am not losing money on it, right?" Thalia argued.
"But I bloody am!" Marlene jumped up from the sofa she had selfishly occupied all by herself, driving the younger students from it beforehand. "I put all my money on you!"
Thalia turned to face her friend, not believing her own ears.
"You did what?!"
"Well, not all money, only a few galleons," blonde cooled down, gradually retreating to the safety of the sofa.
Marlene tried to hide something that was laying down on the caution. She didn't succeed. One careless movement betrayed her. Marlene grabbed the thing, which was truly a notebook, but Thalia was faster, a hurricane of limbs and hair. She flew toward Marlene, (believe me, you wouldn't describe it any other way) and tore the thing from her clenched fingers.
She searched throw it: piles of numbers and names.
"I can't believe it. You made an accelerator out of our race?!"
There was no answer. Marlene was desperately looking for support from everywhere.
Thalia's forehead furrowed, revealing barely noticeable wrinkle between her eyebrows. Marlene saw that wrinkle much more often than she would like. It meant no good.
"Maggie Smith? It's a second year, Marlene. What the hell were you thinking?"
"She was saving for a teddy bear. What was I supposed to do?" the girl mumbled.
"You are in so much trouble."
Thalia made Marlene reverse all the deals, except for the one McKinnon bet herself. Oh, no no no, she had big plans for those few galleons. As you might have already guessed, Thalia went to Hogsmeade those weekends. On a Sunday morning, Maggie Smith was pleasantly surprised by the largest and furriest teddy bear that she has ever seen.
Notes:
Hello my dear friends!
I genuinely enjoyed writing this chapter. I think it turned out nice, but you will be the judges of it.
I bet you were thinking that Thalia was going to shine with Christmas lights, kick James's ass and be all smugly and victorious about it? Well, I guess that's not how I intend to write her character, so get used to that, guys.
I apologize for any mistakes, as this chapter was not edited. If I spot any typos, they will be removed ASAP.