Warning, serious content ahead! This fic goes to a dark place for a few chapters. But there is hope!
Chapter Twelve: In Which There are Schemes and Counter-Schemes
"Okay, is she completely insane, or what?" Luther asks, unable to hold back the words anymore. Lily has flounced off to recruit her cousin Louis to the cause, and he and Vulpecula are sitting slumped in armchairs, trying to assimilate what just happened.
"I think it might work," Vulpecula shrugs. "I mean, sure, it's tremendously dangerous and could backfire completely, thus destroying all our efforts so far and then some, but what's life without a little risk?"
"Gryffindors," moans Luther, not caring that there isn't anyone to commiserate with. He's alone with Vulpecula, who sounds like another crazy Gryff, just like Lily. Lily never would have thought of this suicidal plan if she hadn't been living with Sally Simpkins for six months.
"It's okay," Vulpecula says gently. "Luther, really. I have a piece of my cousin's hair, Louis is really good with Transfiguration, and I honestly don't think any of them will tell. Well—it'll be weird if Louis doesn't, because he's Head Boy and all, but then, he's not her brother, so it could be worse."
"That's right," says Luther bitterly. "Not only is this completely illegal, highly unlikely to succeed, and downright nuts, but it'll probably destroy the Potters, too."
"I don't know," says Vulpecula thoughtfully. "I think it would take rather a lot, to destroy the Potters."
That week is surprisingly normal, for everyone who isn't in on Lily's plot. Even for her trusted co-conspirators, things seem…surprisingly sane. There are fewer duels in the dungeons, and people start whispering and eyeing the known Gryffindor leaders, Hamilton and Goldstein and Corner, and even Wood, askance. They don't dare do as much to the known Slytherin leaders—Bree, Magnus, Tairi, and the other seventh year Slyths are suddenly being ignored and avoided.
Lily is too busy to notice, of course, even when Rochelle Rider of Ravenclaw comes up to her during break and whispers, "I don't care if I am being hopelessly biased and unfair, I hope you make Rich Hamilton wish he was never born!" and stomps off, flipping her hair and carrying an Encyclopedia as heavy as she is.
Still, as Luther points out, it isn't a good sign, the way the Gryffs have stopped hexing Slyths and first-years in the corridors. They have to be planning something too. Bree, who isn't in on Lily's scheme, is especially worried.
"I'm telling you, Potter," she whispers in Lily's ear, while Professor Longbottom explains Shield Charms in the Room of Requirement, "Hamilton's up to something. I asked him to pass the salt the other day, and he did, without a single hex or comment! He barely even looked at me. Something is going on."
"Relax, Bree," Lily says softly. "Melanie's on it."
Bree doesn't look entirely reassured; she's aware that Lily and several of the other younger Slyths actually look up tremendously to Melanie Jordan, but personally, she's never liked her. And besides, she's a Gryff. Bree doesn't trust anyone in red and gold, these days. You can never be too careful.
Finally, on Friday, the tension has reached a snapping point. Luther stares around the Potions classroom, waiting for his cue from Dana.
There's steam and oddly colored smoke rising from everyone's cauldrons, and Luther can hardly see all the way to the front of the classroom, and Professor Joshi-Yap. Still, he figures that's all to the good.
He's not sure even Joshi-Yap would approve this particular extracurricular.
"Come on," he mutters under his breath. Dana said she could do this!
Suddenly, there's a loud fizzing, and bits of Delia Park's potion scatter all over the classroom. Girls shriek and Joshi-Yap makes her way through to the heart of the commotion, while Luther slips past the just-open door into her office, giving Dana a significant look—the closest he can come to a conspiratorial wink. Slytherins, after all, do not wink. Ever.
It doesn't take long to find the potion—everything is really organized, nice and neat—and Luther slips it under his robes, and returns to class without mishap.
"Phase One complete, L," he murmurs under his breath.
Tairi smiles at the assembled house-elves. She knows better than to explain what she's really doing in the kitchens right before dinner, but coming up with a believable story is harder than she expected.
Of course, if it weren't for Lily's Aunt Hermione, she would've grown up tricking house-elves into helping her prank Grandfather, but ever since that whole every-house-elf-is-entitled-to-a-salary-and-sick-days-and-pensions-and-all-the-rest-of-it Act, Grandfather has absolutely refused to employ any in the Manor. He claims it's on principle.
"See, my boyfriend really likes this special spice mix I make for him," Tairi explains. "And it would mean so much to me if I could put it in his pumpkin juice—as a special treat, you know, because he's turning eighteen today." Behind her back, Tairi crosses her fingers.
"What about Mr. James Potter, Miss Malfoy?" asks an old, female house-elf with hollowed eyes and a very dirty shirt and skirt set.
Tairi freezes. Are details of her love life just passed around like—well, like gossip, thus completely undermining her personal privacy?
"No," she lies quickly. "We're just really, really good friends." Such good friends, in fact, that here she is, lying about their relationship for his baby sister—who had better be grateful. James gets jealous easily, and if he hears about her non-existent boyfriend-who-likes-spice-mix…
"Please?" she begs, widening her eyes and doing her best impression of her baby sister Vulpecula when she wants something. V's pout can win over even Grandfather, something Tairi has never understood.
"This way, miss!" squeaks one of the house-elves, luckily not the smart one who knew all about her and James—Tairi supposes house-elves get Witch Weekly same as anyone else.
And, with a graceful flick of the wrist, it's done—her 'spice mix' is in the pumpkin juice about to be sent up to the Gryffindor table.
Tairi grins to herself. How's that for going above and beyond, she thinks. Whatever Lily's plan is, Tairi's happy to support James's little sister. And if it means causing trouble for the Gryffs, well, she's not one to shirk her duty!
"Did I ever tell you how much I loathe Tranfiguration, Cincy?" complains Rich Hamilton to his latest girlfriend, Cincy Adams, who transferred from America, hardly ever speaks, and carries around bulging bags with names no one has ever heard of, like Gucci and Prada.
"Mmm," says Cincy.
"I mean," says Rich, taking a swig of pumpkin juice, "Longbourne is so—" but then he happens to glance down at his hand, and lets out a high-pitched shriek. His skin has turned a bright, merry green, and little tendrils of what might be grass, or possibly Devil's Snare, are sprouting all over him. It doesn't hurt, but it is highly unsettling.
Rich's gaze sweeps the rest of the Gryffindor table. Almost everyone is suffering the same fate he is—Corner, Goldstein, Wood, even Potter (Albus)…Cincy is unaffected, probably because she's American and hates British food of all kinds, even Butterbeer, and consequently hardly ever eats anything.
And—yes, Rich has spotted Potter (Lily). She's laughing and chatting unconcernedly with the younger Malfoy girl, the brunette one, and drinking coffee. Her skin remains a normal color and texture.
"POTTER!" Rich roars, getting up and striding toward her. Those he passes blink; he looks like nothing so much as a walking, very angry bush.
"Oh, Godric, oh Godric, oh my Godric!" Anissa Goldstein is saying over and over, staring at her arms in horror.
"POTTER!" Rich shouts again, shoving Potter (Albus) out of the way and heading for that disgraceful little girl, still laughing—he'll show her!
"Settle down!" Several teachers are heading for the Gryffindor table now, Beaumont, Longbottom, Parkinson-Bulstrode…
Rich doesn't care.
"You—you—" he says inarticulately.
Finally, Potter (Lily) gets up, swinging her legs gracefully over the bench and then breaking into a run. "Help!" she screams. "Help, he's going to kill me!"
Rich thinks it's an awfully good idea, and he can feel at least half the Gryffindor table's agreement. Behind him, Ken Corner, a seventh year, actually growls.
Before Beaumont, Longbottom, or Parkinson-Bulstrode can rush to her rescue, Lily Potter has dashed out into the Great Hall, running at full tilt, chased by green, sprouting fifth, sixth, and seventh year Gryffindor boys.
In the uproar, no one notices Vulpecula Malfoy and Louis Weasley slip out and down to the dungeons by the back way.
Headmistress Beaumont can't remember being this irritated. She's about to go crazy and start Stunning the entire student body, she can feel it.
She and Professors Longbottom and Parkinson-Bulstrode are racing after the crowd of green Gryffindors who are racing after Lily Potter. At first, it was just Rich Hamilton, but Headmistress Beaumont is positive she's spotted the Head Girl, Melanie Jordan, and even Roxane Weasley, trying to race ahead of Hamilton, Corner, Goldstein, and the rest, screaming about how, if anyone's going to murder her cousin for this, it's going to be her.
Honestly, Headmistress Beaumont admits to herself, she would far rather murder Dave Montague, and whoever else came up with this lunatic plan to abolish Slytherin House, staring with the Minister for Magic and working her way on down.
She's even too out of breath to scream, "Detention!" at every single member of that leafy horde, and she only hopes she can get to Miss Potter before anything too terrible happens.
Why, oh why didn't she retire and open a Charm shop, instead of agreeing to this horrible job?
"Come out wherever you are, Potter!" cries Rich Hamilton gleefully. Ahead, everyone has come to a stop. Headmistress Beaumont does a quick count—Hamilton, Corner, Goldstein, Potter (Albus), Jordan, Weasley, Breckenridge…but gives up when Hamilton tugs on the door of the classroom, and then he and half a dozen others disappear.
"STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!" she shouts, having regained her voice, after being stationary for a few minutes. "DETENTION, ALL OF YOU!"
But before she and Professors Longbottom and Parkinson-Bulstrode can restore order, the door opens, and Headmistress Beaumont hears a gasp.
Suddenly, there is absolute silence, and the leafy students don't protest as she pushes her way through them to the open door.
Hamilton and his friends are standing in a rough semicircle just outside the dark room, staring at the body at their feet.
Something in Headmistress Beaumont's chest grows cold. The body is Lily Potter—unmistakably dead.
Remember, it's not over! Stay tuned for the coming chapters!