Eight

King's Cross was boiling hot, even on Platform 9 ¾. Eglantine stood alone with her trunk between two posts, curiously watching the other families. A blond boy's mother was smoothing his hair down, telling him to remember his spot cream; an eccentrically-dressed couple from Ireland was coaching their eleven-year-old son on what to do if the Sorting Hat tried to put him in Hufflepuff. Her parents had accompanied her to the platform exactly twice: once, in second year, when James Potter had been (foolishly) attempting to bully her; and once in fourth year. Every other year it'd either been Aunt Alya, because she was already going, or Bertie, because he was ten years older and lived in London, right there in London, you can't tell me (as their mother said) that you are too busy to take your sister to get on the train.

Now there was no Bertie. And, in a sense, no Aunt Alya. There was only Death Eater Alya, who was a stranger.

Lily was standing with Claire Hooper, another Gryffindor, and at a very safe distance were Snape and his gaggle of Slytherin geese. Damon Mulciber and Tim Wilkes were among them, as well as Nicholas Avery and Evan Rosier. The inner circle. They all looked pale, faintly dirty, and criminal.

She resolutely refused to look for Sirius. She wondered if his parents would be here at all with Regulus—if they'd try to make a scene, or if they'd ignore him. Just like she was.

She felt a tapping on her shoulder. It was Peter Pettigrew, standing there with his obnoxious, giant, watery eyes. And teeth with which he could eat an apple through a fence.

"Hi, Peter."

"Hi, Eggy. Have—have you seen Sirius and James?"

"Nope."

"Can you see them?"

She gave him a look. "No. I just said I hadn't seen them."

"You're taller than I am, is all."

"I don't know why you'd want to admit something like that."

He cleared his throat. "Hem. So, er—how was your summer?"

"Oh, just splendid. My uncle got murdered by Death Eaters. That was especially fun. You?"

Peter put his head down and simply shuffled away. Bloody twit.

When the train arrived, she joined Lily and Claire in a compartment, and watched Severus glide by, with only the hint of a maudlin side-glance through the window. Really, it was too absurd. She didn't think he'd be much of a Casanova at any point in his life, especially not given what his mother looked like, but she hoped that one day he figured out his hair, lost his general mien of cantankerousness, and got an actual date so he'd stop being hung up on Lily.

Claire had always faintly annoyed Eglantine. She reminded her of one of those Disney princesses that Carlisle and Linda's daughter Susan was so fond of, with their big kittenish eyes and squeaky voices and airs of exhausting, exacting goodwill. Peter really liked Claire: that was another point against her, because anybody Peter liked must have something missing upstairs. (Somehow Sirius and Remus didn't fall under this umbrella, firstly because Peter admired them more than liked them, and secondly because Eglantine felt that her liking them must cancel out Peter.) Claire had black hair, perfect eyebrows that she must have spent hours tweezing though no one ever caught her doing it, and rather massive blue eyes to go with her round snub nose. She was currently squeaking to Lily about a really nice boy she'd met (also called Dave, and Eglantine's entire body froze for a moment before Claire mentioned that her Dave was a redhead from Glasgow), and a really nice book she'd read about using flowers in magic, and a really nice skirt she'd purchased. Everything that pleased Claire was nice. Eglantine was certain that if Claire ever had any kind of sexual experience, it would be described as nice. ("Nice kissing, Dave. Pull my hair. That feels nice.")

"Oh, and I heard about your poor uncle, Tina. I do pity his poor family. How are they? How are you?" Claire squeaked with a face of exaggerated concern. She wasn't exaggerating it to be sarcastic. That was just Claire.

"Fine, thanks," said Eglantine. (That was another of Claire's words. "Poor." A person could have a net worth of thirty million Galleons, and if they so much as stubbed their toe, it was "poor Croesus.") She pulled out one of her curse books, hoping it would be a Claire deterrent.

Indeed, Claire spent much of the journey chattering to Lily. Eglantine was grateful to pick up on the fact that Claire seemed to find her boring. It was only mildly annoying because of her shattering pitch, and Eglantine was able to get a good chunk of the book (which, incidentally, had been the one she'd been reading that night with Sirius) out of the way. The sky was just beginning to turn orange with the sunset when there was a tapping at the door.

She expected to look up and see James wanting Lily, or Severus wanting Lily, or somebody wanting anybody but her—or, failing that, the witch with the snacks. It wasn't. It was a burly, clueless-looking boy, a fourth-year she vaguely recognized as a Slytherin who spent most of his time carrying things for Avery and Rosier. He was flanked by Mulciber and Wilkes. Claire said something like, eep.

"Oh, come on," Eglantine said to her. She opened the door. "What?" she said.

"I'm Sam Goyle, and you cost my brother his job," said the clueless-looking boy, in a more nasal, grumpy version of his apparent brother's breathless chatter. She could see the resemblance, now that this Sam mentioned that Robert Goyle was his brother: They both had the same square, podgy head and flared nostrils and sense of being confused by the very air they breathed.

"Sorry to hear it," Eglantine said. It sounded flat, because that was the only way she wouldn't feel like she was being snippy, but in a way, she actually was. Robert Goyle had been stupid, but a great deal more pleasant than most people in Knockturn Alley.

"No, you're not. You're not sorry at all." Tim Wilkes gave him an encouraging nudge. "Cru—"

All three boys were surprised to see Sam Goyle's wand fly out of his hands into the waiting palm of Severus Snape. When they saw him, they actually looked afraid. Eglantine was both oddly proud of Severus for managing to actually intimidate somebody, and worried. Maybe he was less weak and pathetic than she assumed.

"Fucking idiots," he said, in that quiet hiss of his that he used when he was really furious. "Were you really going to perform an Unforgiveable Curse on the train to school? I guess you actually are as mentally defective as you look. Get back in the compartment, all you lot."

They obeyed him like children, even Mulciber, who was the same age. Eglantine gave Severus a brief nod. She knew he wouldn't stand to be thanked—he'd find it corny and excessive. He nodded back. Really a master of pleasantries, Severus.

"I hope he doesn't think that was meant to impress me," muttered Lily. "I'm not impressed. Nobody who calls me a Mudblood can ever impress me with anything but their ignorance."

Snotty cow, Eglantine thought. She'd have been surprised at herself for thinking this—if it'd been the first time. "I don't think it was about you. I think he was more trying to protect them than us."

Lily shrugged one shoulder and stared out the window. Eglantine figured she must still be assuming it was because of herself. Not every step he takes is about you, you know, she wanted to say. He's not just an extension of Lily admiration. And Lily didn't even know about the crush part, Eglantine didn't think. Lily thought her friendship was really that important to people. Her world did not revolve around Lily Evans, and she could sense that, twisted and obsessed though Severus may be, his world didn't either.

Eglantine suspected that James Potter's world, however, did, and he was their next visitor, about a half-hour before the train was due to arrive at Hogwarts. He meant it to look nonchalant, almost accidental, that he was just "passing by." But who was he visiting down this way, Mulciber and Wilkes?

"Hullo, Lily," he said, his eyes nearly boring a hole into Lily's scalp. She was still looking out the window. "All right?"

"Yes," she said, smiling and returning her gaze to the window.

James rolled his eyes. Eglantine almost felt bad for him. Almost. He inched into the compartment, not giving up quite yet. "How was your summer?"

"Fine."

"Erm. Mine was too. We—my family and I—erm, just us—we er, went to Crete. Really nice. Bit hot."

"Mm."

"Spent the rest of the summer with Sirius. He finally, er, left home."

"Sirius left home? Why?" This actually caught Lily's attention. "When?"

Eglantine could tell that James was discomfited by Lily's sudden interest—probably wondering if she secretly had a thing for Sirius rather than him. "Erm. Well, he left in July. End of July. But we were away in Crete, so…he sort of waited for us to come back."

"Waited? Where did he stay?"

James looked at Eglantine; it was hard to read it, whether he was looking to see if Eglantine would speak up, or whether Sirius had even told him. Had he mentioned, at any point, telling James? She couldn't remember.

"Well, with Eglantine. Figured she'd have said."

Ugh, no.

Lily turned towards Eglantine, looking half-irritated, half-wounded. "You never mentioned that Sirius was staying with you."

"Should I have?"

"Well, it's kind of important."

"Why, d'you have a crush on him, or something?"

"No!" Lily turned slightly pink.

Without reason, Eglantine was suddenly combating an urge to slap her. "You do! Merlin, Lily, I was joking—I didn't realize you actually do."

"I don't! I mean, he's—he's cute, but—but he's really—obnoxious," she finished lamely. "Why, do you?"

"Definitely not. He farts in his sleep. Not that you'd know. Would you?" Maybe that was why he hadn't told her who he'd kissed before her. Because it'd been Lily.

"No! Look, it's not even a real crush. It's just…he's nice-looking, and he's funny, but—you know, it's just that. I don't even really know him. If I did, I probably would think he's as repulsive as you do."

"I do not think he's repulsive." She didn't really want James going back and saying that Eglantine thought he was repulsive. Not that James wouldn't be too disappointed to do anything but mope.

"You just said he farts in his sleep. Your face kind of implied that you think that he's gross. Ugh, why are we even talking about this? I don't really like him. What's important is that he was staying in your house for who knows how long and you never said. Meanwhile, I told you things. I thought we were friends."

"We are friends."

"Then why did you keep that a secret from me?"

"I don't know."

"There must be some reason."

"Nope."

Lily just rolled her eyes and sighed. "I've got to get to the Prefects' carriage for the meeting. Come on, Claire."

She pushed by James, who just stood there, looking dejected. He seemed not even to be aware of his surroundings. Eglantine knew the feeling.

"You know, I think she secretly likes you much more than she could ever like Sirius. She's never mentioned him," she said, trying to cheer him up. He was a pain in the arse, but he just looked so depressed, like someone had just told him his owl got sucked into a jet engine.

"She's mentioned me then?"

"Er—sort of."

"That's a no." James sighed dramatically. Hnnngh. God, thought Eglantine. Both him and Sirius go around like bloody Hamlet all the time. "What do I do wrong?"

"You want an honest answer to that?"

"No! Yes."

"You're kind of a twat to people. If you were a bit more, I dunno the word, noble maybe, she'd fancy you. You're…you know, you're funny, but usually all you do is harass people. Lily's not about that. Fairness is really important to her, and you're not fair, you're elitist."

"I am not elitist!"

"You kind of are. And I dunno, maybe you're not, but that's what she sees. She sees you as a snotty, privileged berk who thinks he's better than everyone. You have to prove to her that that's not what you're about."

"But I've told her! You—I mean, I don't know if she told you." His nose turned red. "I've told her I liked her before, but I told her on the train home last year, and she kind of…yelled at me. She called me—well, names. Similar to, as you say, 'snotty privileged berk.' And I said that's not who I am, that I'm actually quite nice, and I'd be nice to her, but she didn't believe me. Or care."

She looked at him in genuine astonishment. "Really? It shocks you that that went the way it did? All right, look at it from her perspective. I know it's hard for you, but try. She's seen you pick on her best friend (well, former best friend) mercilessly for going on six years now. He's a poor, scrawny, unendowed sort of fellow, not a lot of friends, so it seems like you're going at him for those reasons, instead of…any others you may or may not have. I don't really know your reasoning, but that's what Lily sees. You play pranks on people all the time, but they're usually on younger people, or stupid people, or Peter. Not your peers. And for you to turn around and say, 'Well, I fancy you, so I'd be nice to you,' that doesn't really cancel out everything else you've ever done. Especially since you're not doing, you're just talking."

James didn't say anything. He was staring at the carpet. "I picked on Severus because he's—he's not a nice person. I was trying to be noble, in a way. To save her from…from him being around her all the time. But I guess—" he swallowed. "I guess, yeah, maybe there's something to that. I mean, I wasn't always that nice to you—"

"And I still think you're annoying, and maybe I'm projecting some of what I think onto Lily. But she and I do usually think a lot alike, at least about stuff like that—fairness and the like. But I can tell that you really do like her, and I don't think—I mean, you're obviously not too awful of a person, if Sirius and Remus tolerate you—"

"And you would be happier if she focused on me and not Sirius." He was glaring at her. He was actually glaring at her. What the hell was this about?

"That has nothing to do with it. The thought never crossed my mind."

"He told me, you know. And—and maybe you're right about Lily and whatnot, but…but part of why I came here isn't even about her."

"Oh?"

"Don't—just don't. Don't fuck around with him like you do everyone else, all right?"

"I do not fuck around! I don't know what you're hearing, but I don't."

"I don't mean actually…you know what I mean. Don't play him."

"He's more likely to play any girl alive than I am to play him."

James snorted. "Maybe any girl but you. Just leave him alone. I know you don't really think about him, so just leave him alone."

Eglantine rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. I'll just leave an old family friend alone because James the All-Powerful told me to."

"You'd better."

"Or what, exactly?"

"Or I'll make you."

She raised an eyebrow. "No you won't. Let me tell you why: firstly, because it won't work. Secondly, because no matter what Lily may ultimately think of me, you're not going to be doing yourself any favors in her eyes by going all blackmail-y and Severus-like. Thirdly, because if I really wanted to, I could convince Lily to go after Sirius."

"No, you couldn't."

"Try me."

He paused to think about this. "How—"

"I'm not going to tell you how. Look, I can tell you really like her, so don't push me into doing that. I don't want to, but I would. Don't try to have more control over my life than I do. Nobody has a voice in my life but me."

"Yeah, sure. What about your parents?"

"Mr. Hotshot Quidditch journalist who's always flying around the world, you mean? Or my mum the gossip columnist?"

"Gossip col—wait, your mum is Agnes Quilp? Why did I not know about this?"

"That's not her name, thicko. That's a pen name. She did it so as not to get hate mail."

James was smiling widely. "I can see why you wouldn't mention it. And now that you do, I can see the resemblance."

"What resemblance?"

"Nothing." He was still beaming. "It's not a physical resemblance, because I don't know what she looks like, I don't think. But I could definitely see you being the daughter of a gossip columnist."

"But I'm not gossipy."

"No, but you know everything about everyone, it seems. And you're gossiped about."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure they're all talking about me. I don't even do anything."

"All right, Eglantine. You don't do anything. See you later."