MAN I feel so bad for not updating. I haven't given up on this story; I just… kind of lost my enthusiasm? It's really hard, I realize, to write a humorous but well-written story. What a challenge. Also fell into a writer's block. I actually meant to update in June… last year. Har. Let's go procrastination!
Anyways, I'm so sorry about not updating. I hope I haven't lost any of you guys. Just so you know, I will finish this story even if it means eating my younger sister… but that's not saying much. Ha. Just kidding!
(about eating my younger sister, not the finishing the story part.) Enjoy!
Chapter Eight: How to Shock a Dumbledore
Albus Dumbledore was used to surprising.
Perhaps the first time he had ever surprised somebody was during the hours of his birth, when he was a newborn baby wrapped in layers of blankets placed in those little bins the Healers used and garbled out the words, "Want lemon drop," startling the Healer out of her wits. He had heard that she had retired soon after, believing herself to have hallucinated.
From a few hours old to his old current age, he was constantly surprising people. It was one of the things he was surprisingly talented at, whether or not the element of surprise was intended.
And Albus Dumbledore was good at many things, and surprising people was certainly one of them.
But one thing that Dumbledore was not used to was being surprised.
And so it was on this seemingly painless day, this seemingly normal day that started out like every other. The great Albus Dumbledore awoke with the sun creeping over and splashing onto his face as it did everyday, little birds chirping outside the window, fluttering and stretching its wings.
Or not. So I lied. It was September and approaching winter, and the little birdies were all migrating down south, so Dumbledore was not graced with their beautiful singing that morning. Let us now continue the story and ignore science and reason entirely – for isn't this a magical world after all?
What happened that day was like every other--save one thing. From his fireplace came a spewing, coughing sound. One swift turn enabled Dumbledore to see a middle-aged woman dressed as a Muggle with blonde hair and deep blue eyes, dusting herself off and looking at the fireplace as though she had never seen one in her life.
Dumbledore waited for her to speak, his eyes not leaving her face. When the woman finally did take notice that Dumbledore existed in the same room, she jumped slightly. He was not quite sure what she was expecting, but seeing him in his office certainly wasn't. He briefly wondered why.
His curiosity was soon satisfied.
"Professor Dumblydoor--Dumbdoor? I apologize." She broke off, somewhat flustered as Dumbledore supplied the correct pronunciation of his name. A slight hint of an embarrassed blush rose to her cheeks as she briskly continued, as though the mistake never happened. "I am Anna Evans, Lily's mum." Without waiting for a response, she continued, "That may come a shock to you, I am sure, for our appearances differ greatly, but I am her mother nonetheless. My hair and eye color are dominant over her recessive traits."
...Science is so fickle.
But Dumbledore waved her genetic explanation aside, not caring for it. "Lily has your nose. But anyways, would you like some butter pecan ice cream?" he said, motioning to the ice cream box on his desk, charmed to keep cool. "I'm afraid I'm quite low on my lemon drops at the moment."
Anna glanced over at the ice cream box that he had gestured toward. "No, thanks," she replied amiably. "I'm not fond of butter pecan."
"Neither am I," Dumbledore agreed with a weary sigh, shaking his head. "I've been trying to rid myself of them. Ah, well, it was worth a try. Lemon drop?"
This, she accepted, popping the candy into her mouth. Rolling it to the side of her mouth, she said, "I received your letter and I went to that one bar place I drop Lily off every year for school supplies and--what was it? Floo-ed over? Yes, well." She sucked on the candy for a bit. "I'd like to give her my sincerest congratulations and meet this boyfriend of hers."
She was positively beaming. How could he say no? After all... "Yes, perhaps after dinner? Their, ah, studies will keep them quite preoccupied as of late," Dumbledore said.
Her smile widened even more as she clasped her hands together in delight. "Excellent!" she said. "That'll give me time to prepare."
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"If James has a weakness," Remus said before abruptly stopping himself. Shaking his head and clearing his throat slightly, he corrected himself. "James has several weaknesses, actually. And quite a few of them involve food."
Lily listened to Remus, absorbing every word. It was necessary to know her enemies, she decided. She smiled at the thought of his weaknesses and in anticipation of what they had in store for the unsuspecting and sulking raven-haired Head Boy who was grudgingly throwing in items into his cauldron quite recklessly.
"And one thing that you'll find yourself having a hard time getting out of him is the fact that he loves strawberries," Remus said, smiling slightly. "But he'll say they're all right, simply because he thinks it's far too girly for his preferences."
Lily was shocked, to say mildly. She was appalled by James's sexist attitude. "Fruits don't have genders!" she said, managing to keep her voice down with Remus's weary glance at Slughorn, who was peering over Sirius's shoulder.
"Eh, he had an incident with one," Remus said lightly, waving the idea aside. "But his prized possession is his broomstick. And if we--"
"Lily!" interrupted Slughorn's booming voice. Lily jumped slightly at the sound, her head shooting up. Sure enough, the well-rounded professor (and quite literally, at that) stood by her table, looking into her cauldron, nodding approvingly. "Excellent chemistry you've got going on in your cauldron! The perfect color! Such precision is so difficult to find! Ten points to Gryffindor for such a superb potion!"
At this, Lily couldn't help but smile slightly, feeling the corners of her lips being tugged upwards. "Thank you, professor," she said quietly as she added the next ingredient. The moment Professor Slughorn walked onward, Lily said in an undertone to Remus, "If we what?"
"If we transform his broom into a platter of sweets and leave it on his bed..." Remus said, leaving the rest unfinished. But then again, he didn't need to finish, for his intention was clear.
Lily's smile broadened as an idea flickered into her head. "Oh, and if we charm the platter of sweets to, say... alter his appearance and the octave of his voice to imitate a certain professor's..." she said slyly.
The bell echoed throughout Hogwarts, announcing the end of Potions and the start of their free period. "Dismissed!" came Slughorn's voice, rising over the students' bustling. "Please place your potion in the appropriate cubicle!"
As they finished packing up, Lily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. And though she would never openly admit this, her fingers were itching to start the prank.
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"Dumbledore," Anna said, her head buried in mountains of white rectangular sheets that she had called paper, "a few of my plans require magic, which I am utterly incapable of--"
"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Evans," Dumbledore said amiably, smiling. "Now, what is it that you wish me to do?"
A grin spread across Anna's lips and a devious look crossed her face. From a folder, she removed a large sheet of paper covered with small sketches and notes and spread it across the table. "Well, you see, sir..."
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"Prongs, mate..."
Sirius sighed while attempting to suppress a smile that urged to break upon his face. He watched his friend lie on his bed, staring at the ceiling, ignoring the world around him. His face was contorted with a fury that Sirius was only seldomly familiar with, his fists clenched as his knuckles turned white. He reached over and grabbed the nearest object--a smuggled tank of butterbeer--and set it aflame with his wand. How James managed to set a fluid on fire, Sirius doubted he'd ever find out. A furious James could produce startling results.
However, James himself was not at all amused and barely noticed what he had done. His fist flew up, colliding with the wall beside him. Sirius's eyes flickered over to the right, where Remus's bed once was. It had been transfigured into a beautifully bright pink princess bed--or it had been, before James decided he still did not have enough and decided to wreck havoc upon the innocent bed of Remus's. It was snapped in two and the corners of the bed were burned with the mattress turned inside out, askew against the bed posts.
He withdrew his hand and struck the wall again. Sirius winced for him. "Transfiguration will start in fifteen minutes, mate. Planning on attending class?"
James merely grunted. "Will the werewolf be there?" he finally spat.
Sirius let out a sigh. Remus's idea was working... a little too well on James's part. And while it was quite amusing to watch James in all his agony, stressing over a Remus Prank (a term that deserved capital letters for his pranks were unique and like none other... particularly because they actually had a purpose besides laughter), he wondered how far James would take it and was slightly afraid. No, he was never afraid. He was wary. Yes, wary.
"Well, Prongs... he does share the same schedule as us," Sirius pointed out.
Insert grunt.
"You know, Prongs, the old James wouldn't have acted like this. He'd be chasing Lily down the street."
"Well, she didn't like the old James, didn't she?"
"I don't think she'd like the new James, either." Sirius grinned mischievously. "This James is sad," he said slowly as though speaking to a three-year-old. "And everyone knows one thing that will cheer everybody up!" Grabbing his wand and waving in the air, he conjured a bucket of ice cream and a spoon. "Ice cream!"
James's eyes snapped open wide. "What flavor is it?" he demanded.
"That is a secret," Sirius said in a sing-song voice.
James narrowed his eyes. "Tell me it isn't--" Sirius took the opportune moment of James talking to cram the ice cream in his mouth, which he quickly spewed out, sputtering. In seconds, James was up and running. "--butter pecan!" he finished, grabbing the object closest to him as a weapon, chasing Sirius down the hallways.
It was actually quite a strange sight to see--the two most popular Marauders running down the hallway, one carrying a bucket of ice cream and a spoon laughing maniacally with glee while running away from another Marauder wielding a singing papaya.
Wonder what it was doing there.
...Some things are better left unasked.
For instance, another thing that would be better left unasked would be, "Does James know that Lily is in his dorm right now?" Because, as James had charged out, Lily and Remus had crept into the dorm and uncovered the prized broomstick, transfiguring it into a magnificently decorated cake with strawberries (and a single pecan just to spite him) with the words "NOT A CAKE" written in icing, for Remus had so courteously reminded Lily how Sirius, especially, feared cake.
And, with a flick of the wrist, the charm was set.
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"My dear Mrs. Evans, what is that you are going over?" Dumbledore peered over his own book to glance at the blond Muggle's magazine. He was impressed by her diligence; it was clear where Lily got her stubbornness and determination from. Since the moment Anna had stepped into his office, she had been working nonstop on her scheme – no, plan. Dumbledore didn't support schemes.
She glanced up from her magazine, flipping the page as she did so. "Bridesmaid dresses," she said. At this point, Dumbledore would have chuckled, had it not been for the perfectly serious look on Anna's face. "Now, what color hair does this wizard of hers have? Everything must be perfectly color coordinated."
Dumbledore cleared his throat slightly. "Excuse me, Mrs. Evans, but doesn't it seem to be a bit… early to make such plans?"
A grin flickered across Anna's face. "No, of course not!" she said, laying out the magazine. "Now, you see, I was thinking…"
An amused smile played on Dumbledore's face as he listened to her ideas. Apparently, Lily wasn't the only brilliant person from her family.
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"Do… do my eyes deceive me? It must be a lie. It must be!" Sirius whispered as he came to an abrupt stop, the ice cream spoon falling from his hands and clattering onto the floor. His face mirrored one of shock as he stumbled backwards and fell against the wall.
James was breathless, his eyes wide. His pulse quickened as he shook his head. "No… impossible… I don't – I can't believe this – " He struggled to tear his eyes away, but only in vain. He felt as if he'd been Petrified, frozen to the spot, and his heart burned.
Sirius slumped to the floor, covering his face with his hands. "I – I'm sorry, James," he said, his voice low. "I – I didn't – this is impossible – unexpected – " Sirius broke off, unable to continue, his voice quavering.
James was silent for a moment. "Why." It wasn't a question, but his voice was one of stony demand. "Why must it be me… here… why must I suffer?" His voice grew more agitated. "Bloody hell, Merlin, let's all play tricks on James Potter because his life isn't bad enough – "
"I didn't know, James! I swear! I didn't – I didn't think it – " Sirius stood up.
Slowly, James closed his eyes and tried to even his breathing, but to no avail. The image still remained in his mind, as clear as ever. Every curve, every shade, and the look – the sweet look, the soft –
He refused to think anymore. Clenching his fist, James thought spitefully, And of course, of course, here, of all places – only to taunt me.
"It's not a hallucination," he exhaled. "It's too real – too true – to be a hallucination." Forcing calm, James took a deep breath and unclenched his fist.
Sirius hesitated. "I – I think it's real, mate." Silence hung between them. "I – I'm sorry…"
They looked at each other, their eyes locking. A pair of hazel eyes was lost; a pair of brown eyes was confused. Slowly, James turned his head and walked toward the haunting mirage.
"Impossible."
But James couldn't stop himself from walking toward the horrifying image in its own thrilling jealousy and want: of the beautifully soft, round gentle curves of its shape, of the plump yet delicate red strawberries that was sprinkled across the elegant loops of the words not-a-cake upon layers of rich, creamy chocolate.
"Blimey, mate… I think it's real."
From six dorms away, the first years heard wild screaming of delight and enthusiasm.
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The day passed and it was only a bit until dinner. One look at the pleased faces of James and Sirius assured Lily that they had found the cake that they'd left surrounded by strobe lights in their dorm. She spun her wand around her fingers casually as she walked down the corridors alone with Remus toward the Great Hall, an excited look on her face. "Did you see them?" she whispered. Was this how the Marauders felt after every prank? Delightfully rebellious and thrilling? "I can't wait until they wake up tomorrow – "
"Lily!"
A familiar voice echoed down the hall. Surprised, Lily turned around and was caught by surprise as a brilliant flash of light came at her, followed by a click. Lily blinked furiously as she tried to regain her sight from the flash of white light.
"Is this your boyfriend? What's your name, dear?"
Remus, who Lily knew was beside her, seemed rather taken aback. "Err – Remus," he said awkwardly.
"Remus! It's such a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm – "
It was at this particular moment that Lily finally regained her eyesight. However, as she did, Lily wasn't quite sure whether she would have preferred to be able to see and live through this moment, or be blind forever.
"Mum?"