Despite the teachers and their continuing efforts to make everything seem normal and have school carry on normally, all was not well.
Not only at Howgarts, but unrest was stirring everywhere else, and it seemed inevitable that it might seep into the walls of the castle. The Slytherins now huddled together and whispered, speaking of Death Eaters and jeering at any muggle borns.
The halls seemed full of furtive, anxious people, wanting to get quickly to their classes or rushing to the safety of their common rooms. Even the younger students seemed a bit put out by the nervous energy that dampened the spirits of all.
Lily was rushing towards Potions, feeling like a weight on her the stares of Slytherins and those who were known Voldemort supporters, even at school age. She drew strength from withdrawing into her mind like she did when Petunia taunted her. Lily allowed herself a little smile at how ironic it was; at home Tuney hated her for being a witch, and at school they persecuted her because she was, to them, too Muggle.
She ran down the stone stairs to the dungeons. On top of everything, Lily absolutely couldn't be late; whenever she arrived in class a few minutes late, Slughorn would always loudly ask her what was wrong, as if he couldn't possibly imagine that his model student would have been any less than punctual unless there were a serious emergency.
I'm not a saint, she thought angrily as she pushed open the door and found the class preparing their cauldrons, thankfully not yet started. Lily picked a spot as far away from Sev—Snape, she corrected mentally, and sat down resolutely.
Slughorn was nowhere to be seen, and Lily sat anxiously, rearranging her cauldron on her table so that it would be perfectly centered, the lined up her knives perfectly parallel to one another, in order of decreasing size. She fiddled with her tie now, nothing left to do.
She had to admit; being late on the first day of classes, however inconvenient for others, was a very typical thing of Slughorn. He was not one of strict rules; in fact rules only seemed to apply to those who he didn't like, and the members of the Slug Club, as the students mockingly called it, were exempt from the usual limitations or regulations.
"Oi, Muggle," a voice drifted from the back of the dungeon.
Lily didn't turn nor make any outward sign that she'd heard other that suddenly freezing, and sitting ramrod straight in her chair, no longer fiddling with her tie.
"Seems Muggles are deaf too. Completely useless," the voice continued.
Lily was not angry yet; they'd have to try much harder to break her self-imposed calm, but she was tense, readying herself for some sort of confrontation.
"Oi, Muggle. Were your parents the filth that they made fly around London?"
She'd read that in the Daily Prophet, of course; the Muggles that had been kidnapped then sent flying, completely awake, across the whole of London. It had been a serious breach of the Statue of Secrecy, and had kept the Ministry in a panic trying to erase the memories of London Muggles for about two weeks.
Lily gripped the edge of the table. She was fine. They couldn't hurt her with words. Soon Slughorn would be here, and they'd have lesson, and all this would be over; a funny thing to remember in weeks to come.
"Suppose I take Petunia and send her on a flying adventure next."
Lily whirled around and was standing, wand drawn, before even she could realize what had happened. "Who told you about Tuney?" she growled.
"Oh, right. Your Muggle sister—never mentioned her, did you? Suppose I wouldn't either, you know, the shame of that filth as a sister…" said Rookwood, who had been the one talking to Lily.
But Lily wasn't looking at Rookwood at all; instead she was glaring at Severus Snape, whose eyes were carefully blank. He had dared tell his new Slytherin friends all about her dysfunctional relationship with Petunia?
Lily wavered from Rookwood to Snape then back again, deciding whose nose to curse off first. "You… you…" she sputtered, trembling with anger.
"Hello, m'dears, bit late, sorry about—oh," Slughorn suddenly went quiet, a hand still on the heavy wooden door he'd just opened.
Lily wavered, still frozen in an attack position by her anger, but slowly lowering her wand. Taking deep, shaky breaths she sat down in front of her cauldron. Slughorn, having no idea how to handle the situation, simply closed his mouth, which had been left open in surprise, and continued with his lesson.
Lily was fuming, later, adding porcupine quills into her potion. She didn't know what made her angrier; the fact that Sev had given away her secrets like they weren't worth anything, or that she had completely lost control at the mention of her sister. They'd hit a nerve at the mention of Tuney, and Lily was sure they would use this knowledge to unhinge her further.
Lily's potion turned cloudy gray, and Lily briefly thought that it was likely reflecting her mood for the rest of the day, like a grim prediction.
! #$%^&*
It was a scowling Lily that James met, that evening, still sweaty and tired from Quidditch practice, for their rounds. She gave him instructions curtly, and ran a hand through hair that he was sure had been smooth and straight in the morning, but was now looking puffier and messier as she continually raked her fingers through it.
James supposed that was a bit rich of him to think, as he walked down towards the Great Hall, as his own hair was a royal mess every minute of the day, with a little help from him and his ruffling it. His footsteps echoed gloomily in the Great Hall. He sighed. There was obviously no one there, why were they even required to do this?
He went down towards the dungeons, where he would patrol around the Hufflepuff quarters then meet Lily in Gryffindor Tower to report his findings. Then they'd repeat this stupid routine for another hour and a half.
He walked past the painting of the bowl of fruit. "This is stupid. There's no one," he muttered to himself. "Why am I talking to myself?" he mused aloud.
In response he heard a muted laugh that most definitely hadn't come from him. James paused. He looked around and saw no one. "Hello?"
No giggle responded. James concluded that it must have been his imagination, and began once again fantasizing about going to bed.
He walked briskly forward, before hitting into what seemed to be an invisible wall. James felt the wind being knocked out of him and he grappled blindly at the mass he'd apparently run into.
He felt a supple material in his hands and as he tugged, Sirius' face appeared out of thin air. He wasn't controlling his laughing anymore, and was throwing his head back in pure mirth.
James, not amused, pulled the rest of the invisibility cloak off. "This is mine," he half-whined, hearing Sirius coughing for air while he laughed.
Sirius hiccupped. "Why am I talking to myself?" he said in a poor, high-pitched imitation of James.
"What are you doing here?"
Sirius pulled out a mound of chocolate bars he'd wrapped in a linen napkin. He'd obvious just gotten them from the kitchens. "For Moony?" James asked, knowing full well about his friend's strange chocolate infatuation.
"Lost a bet," Sirius shrugged.
"Remus doesn't bet."
"Oh yes, he does," Sirius answered, an annoyingly knowing smile on his face.
James sighed. "Disappear before I have to report you," he said in a resigned voice. Sirius nodded and saluted, disappearing again under the cloak. Ten minutes later he was back up at the Gryffindor Tower meeting point.
"Nothing to report," Lily said very officially.
"Nothing to report," James repeated, lying with utmost ease. He hesitated. "What if we… go to bed? I think there's nothing left to patrol now."
Lily paused. She'd be ending an hour early—this would be disobeying direct orders, and on the first day of class no less, but the idea of sleeping was ridiculously tempting.
"Yes, I suppose it won't make a difference," she said, more for her own benefit than James'.
James nodded with relief and spoke to the door. "Ginger Root."
Severus breathed again when James stepped into the door. The moment they'd been waiting for was there at last.