Oh, dear Lord, don't strike me down. Please?
I'm so horrible. I've been near catatonic for the last four days, but that's still no excuse, so I fully apologize. This probably would have been up yesterday, but I came home from school at like, 10:00 AM and didn't wake up until 2:00 AM the next morning, at which point I panicked and did a ton of homework and stayed home anyway and...
Well, not like you really care.
I'm still loving up on Lucius. He's the most deliciously vile character I've ever written, and I think I love him. In another note, might I say that people run away from you (literally run) when you say the words 'deliciously incestuous'?
It's so true.
Listening to RENT makes your writing angry. Thinking you own the HP universe makes lawyers angry. Therefore, I've stopped doing both.
IF YOU HAVE NOT READ CHAPTER FOUR, PLEASE DO SO. Fanfiction apparently decided to not send out notices last time.
Lily Evans had had quite enough of first year students intent on sneaking out of their dorms at ten o'clock at night. Such behavior had spiked since the Marauders had begun their quest to become the self-proclaimed illegal entertainment of Hogwarts – and she laid the blame fully and absolutely on one James Harold Potter.
It wasn't even that the younger years were breaking rules that bothered her – it was the fact that they did it simply because they aspired to be like Potter. A series of horribly executed pranks – not planned by the Marauders, but certainly not discouraged by their little group, either – always came about towards the end of the year. Emotions ran high as students studied themselves to the exhaustion point, and as a result, the rules were often shattered to the extreme.
Lily was certain she'd never done such things when she was younger. That was why she was where she was today – because of abhorring anything and everything that stood for James Potter.
She was sure of it.
Stopping her muse to check behind the tapestry of a well-know secret passageway (the oxymoron had always intrigued her – at what point did a secret passageway depart from 'secret' and merely become a passage?), her spine gave a little shiver.
Then she heard his voice – that voice that she did so loathe.
She looked to the entrance of the Great Hall, hearing the voice come nearer to her from that direction.
No, she corrected herself. Black is with him.
They were whispering harshly, but she could still make out the words. Potter sounded panicked, apologetic, and she could imagine him running one of his hands through his hair in a distracted manner. She only just stopped herself from smiling at the image, instead hiding deeper in the nearby alcove.
"Pads, you have to believe me. Peter was sure of it. Hell, I was sure of it. We were just trying to help."
She still couldn't see them – but by their voices, they couldn't be more than twenty feet away from her.
What is going on here?
Her memory landed on a rumour she had heard some time ago from a fourth year. The boy had been hysterical about Potter disappearing right in front of his eyes. He'd been completely incoherent for almost half an hour, until Remus had calmed him down with a story that sounded like complete bull to the rest of the room – something about a mystical cloak that Potter had bought from a less-than-legal pawn shop in Knockturn Alley.
And how many times has Remus told me, Lily thought, that the best way to hide a secret is with the truth?
Zoning back to the conversation, Lily had never heard Black's voice as terse as she did now. "I don't think you understand. Whether or not it's true is none of your business, Prongs. It's up to me to decide – or Moony, if it comes down to that."
"So I'm just supposed to stand by and watch while two of my best friends pine for one another?" She heard some rather frantic shuffling, as Potter hissed, "Slow down, will you?"
"No," said Black, and she wasn't sure what he was responding to. "But I expect you to show some consideration to those of us who don't want our friends to hate us, you prick."
"I'm doing you a favor!"
"I don't even like him!"
What? Lily was stunned – apparently Potter was as well, as she didn't hear him speak for quite some time. When she did, his voice was shaky.
"Sirius, you have to like him. That's what the spell's all about, don't you get it? It makes you go after the person that's going to become your end-all, be-all. There's really no way around that."
Lily heard Black's voice become immediately defensive. "Then you made it wrong, Prongs. Because it's not...it's not true. Alright?"
There was a violent swish of cloth and suddenly – suddenly she could see him. Not Black, just Potter. He wasn't immediately aware of his now-visible state – but the fact that he couldn't see Black tipped him off fairly quickly.
Before he could make a move to run after the invisible figure, she quickly stepped out of the dark, marveling at the fact that he hadn't seen her before. "Potter," she snarled, "What are you doing?"
He spent but a few seconds looking off in the direction that his friend had escaped in before recovering himself. "Evans, darling," he drawled. "What can I do for you on this fine evening?"
"You can die a fiery death, for starters," she hissed. "I don't care if you do think you're the king of the world, Potter, you're not supposed to be out and about right now."
"I could say the same for you."
She tossed her hair angrily, watching his eyes follow it. "No, you could not. You are simply creating a disastrous route for others to follow, while I'm trying to fulfill my prerequisites for Head Girl duties next year."
He smiled wickedly, exuding a sort of confidence that she had come to fear over her many years in this institution. "Oh? And do you know who will be playing opposite that role next year, Evans?"
A horrible comprehension formed, and she suddenly had a taste for what it must feel like when one's life flashes before one's eyes. "No," she muttered frantically. "Dumbledore wouldn't do that to me."
He was still smiling, and she hated him for it. "I think that even Dumbledore can recognize true love when he sees it. Let it be known that I, as well, will be fulfilling my Head duties by your side, each and every night, until the end of this glorious year."
"I hate you."
"I hate you."
James felt a bit of a chill coming off of the redhead, but recovered nonetheless. It wasn't the worst he'd experienced in the face of the storm that was Hurricane Lily. "I know."
He walked towards her, and casually hooked her arm around his, leading her down the corridor. He felt her entire body tense as she walked stiffly beside him – but she hadn't cursed him yet, hadn't hit him, and hadn't moved away.
He began, with what was astounding historical evidence as support, to worry.
"Evans? Are you alright?"
She was chewing her lip – an endearing motion that made her look all the more human. "You were talking about Remus just now, weren't you?"
She can't know! "Whatever gave you that idea?"
She laughed at him – her patented 'Potter is a blind, unwavering idiot' laugh. "You're kidding, right?" When he shook his head, unwilling to give anything away she hadn't guessed, she sighed. "Look, I had a long talk with Remus yesterday. I know a lot of things about him that he doesn't want anyone else to know, and I just..." She sighed again, restarting her sentence. "Whatever you did, undo it."
He ran his spare hand through his hair, stopping halfway because of her outright grimace. "What exactly do you know about Remus?"
She glared at him. "Enough to understand that it doesn't take much to hurt him – so whatever you're doing has to stop."
She doesn't know anything, he thought in relief. She's just bluffing.
No, not bluffing. She just doesn't know the whole story, or she'd have said something.
He regained his mental footing, smirking gently. "Tell you what, Evans. It's my turn to ask a question."
"What?" Her voice was poison-laced ice – a tone he was well familiar with.
"What would you do, to protect Remus?"
"What do you mean?"
He kept his voice in a pondering tone, aware that he was treading on the thinnest of ice. "Would you – I don't know – go on a date with me, no questions asked? Just to protect dear Remy-poo?"
She looked at him in horror, and he felt a quick twang of guilt for using Remus like this, but wasn't about to lose the opportunity. "You're his friend! Shouldn't you be the one protecting him?"
"Answer the question, Miss Evans," he said, mockingly.
"I'm not going to answer that."
"Why?"
"Because you'd take it the wrong way."
He smirked. "Oh, so that's a 'yes'?"
She glared at him, and he wondered why she'd yet to acquire wrinkles on her lovely forehead. "Yes, but I'd as soon go on a date with the giant squid, and you don't see that happening in the near future, now do you?"
James shook his fist menacingly in the direction of the lake. "Not after I get done with that bastard."
He heard an odd sound from her, and wondered if she was choking. Belatedly, he realized he'd made her laugh.
Sirius Black strode through the halls, not particularly caring that he'd left James back in the hallway. It only caused him a flash of malicious joy when he heard Lily's voice reverberating through the corridor, and he kept moving, lost in his own thought process.
He was just trying to help.
Sirius had had quite enough of the voice in his head, especially now that it was intent on defending James. It'd been telling him to engage in horrible activities all day, and he was all too close to losing Remus because of it.
So you do care about him.
Of course Sirius cared about Remus – they'd been friends for so long, shared so many secrets. They'd made it through what was lightly termed 'the incident' involving Snape and the Whomping Willow and large amounts of stupidity on Sirius' part, so they'd make it through this, no problem. That didn't mean that Sirius wanted all the trouble that went with it, though.
But what if it's worth it? What if he is your true love?
Sirius was quite sure that it didn't matter whether Remus was going to end up as his true love or not. The fact was that he wasn't in love with him now – he wasn't even in lust with him now, and he assumed one of the two had to be involved to merit the sort of actions he'd engaged in lately.
You're impossible. And blind.
Sirius tried to glare at the voice, and found that glaring at one's own head without aid of a mirror to be quite impossible. Instead, he voiced his overwhelmingly vehement hatred for those that simply wouldn't mind their own business.
You may want to stop that. Someone's sure to hear you.
Sirius was quite sure he didn't bloody care, and continued his descriptively painful soliloquy.
Too late.
Sirius felt himself hit something rather solid, and fell to the ground arse-first. He looked up just in time to see one Lucius Malfoy groping towards his face, and felt the cloak slide off of him. He felt rather exposed, and more than a little mortified to be in such a position on the ground.
Jumping up quickly, he cursed the false security being invisible always lent him. Lucius was looking at him with a gleeful sort of surprise, and that scared Sirius more than any malicious look could have. The group of burly Slytherin cronies that flanked him wasn't doing much to dispel his fears.
"Black. What a surprise! We haven't been looking for you for more than what, five minutes?" His entourage made assenting noises, and he laughed – a laugh that had always reminded Sirius of bells made of ice. "How much more lucky could I have been?"
Sweating now, Sirius tried to look nonchalant. "I don't believe you could have, Malfoy. What can I do for you, or should I assume we're here to merely exchange sugary pleasantries?"
Lucius examined a nail. "Well, I suppose it wasn't really you I was looking for, specifically, but you'll do."
"Then who?"
The pureblooded smirk returned to Lucius' eyes. "Ah, but that would be telling. But let me see if you can guess."
"Lucius, I'm hardly in the mood to –"
Lucius cut him off with a wave, speaking over him. "He's about yea high," he began, sparks flowing out of his wand tip as he lightly traced a humanoid figure in midair, "with brown hair, and delectable amber eyes. A penchant for books, yes, and curious little scars that he thinks no one sees. Can you guess who it might possibly be?"
Sirius granted that Lucius was an exceptionally talented sketch-artist – though he shouldn't be surprised, really, as art was a coveted talent within any pureblood family. He stared, stone-like, at Lucius, refusing an answer.
"No? Surely you can make a guess of some accuracy." Lucius let out a little sigh, embellishing what was undoubtedly a left eye belonging to Remus. "Let's see – what else can I tell you? Top of his class – I can't imagine why such an intelligent person wouldn't make head boy, can you? Rather sickly, though, I've noticed, so perhaps that's why. Or perhaps it's something else?"
Sirius was getting rather frustrated with this exchange. "I couldn't begin to guess, Malfoy," he said through gritted teeth.
Lucius looked mildly shocked. "Really? You don't pay enough attention to him, then, for all that he's your newfound love interest. Or is that merely another one of your jokes that I am powerless to understand?"
Sirius wasn't about to answer that question – he'd just gotten out of that fight with James. "What do you want with him, Malfoy?"
Lucius continued on as if his inquiry didn't quite matter. "It's a shame that you don't pay closer attention, Black, it really is. Your little boytoy is far too valuable to waste on something as unworthy as yourself, and if you're not going to use him to his full potential," Lucius sighed, finishing one last cuff on Remus' sketched shirt, "then I will."
"Excuse me?" Sirius could feel the incredulity seeping through his voice. He was gaining ground again, though, and he felt it. "Did you just admit your undying lust for – for Remus? Because I'm sure the folks back at Malfoy Manor would be just ecstatic to hear about that one."
"Sirius, would you for once in your life be...oh, my, that is a nasty pitfall of a name you're in possession of, isn't it? I'd never noticed." He let out a little chuckle before continuing. "Be...reasonable, then. I'm not about to go about seducing members of Gryffindor House; not without a very strong persuasion. Converting, now, that's a different story."
"Converting?"
"Don't tell me that you haven't noticed we've a war outside our gates, Black. Even you are not that thick." Lucius peered at the handiwork that was his life-sized Remus sketch, widening it, allowing it to attain a three dimensional sort of expansion. "I've noticed things about him, Black. Things that not many people would."
"If you're thinking of bribing him with chocolate, that's not exactly a secret obsession, Malfoy."
Lucius gave him a look of pure sarcasm. "Yes, I'm going to bribe a creature such as Lupin with a cocoa confectionary. That's not what I'm speaking of. No. I'm speaking about something that only our dear friend Snape would know." With one sweep of his wand, the glittering rendition of Remus exploded into a thousand little green pieces.
Sirius had never been so panicked in his life. "What did that bastard tell you? If he told you anything, I swear I'll kill him. Anything – anything he said was a lie!"
Lucius' eyes flashed, and he looked triumphant. "Snape told me nothing – he's under Dumbledore's thumb, for all that he rejected the Head Boy offer. Stupid of him, really. But that is not the point at hand, Mister Black.
"The point is that you have told me everything I need to know, whether you realized it or not. Good night, cousin."
As they walked away, Sirius had a horrible sense of déjà vu involving Snape, the Whomping Willow, and large amounts of stupidity on Sirius' part. He didn't think he could blame it on James this time, either.
"Shit. What have I done?"
Incredibly short. My apologies.
But, you know, I still love reviews. They help me recover from my catatonic state, I do believe.