A/N: There are some parts of this chapter that I even admit to loving. Hopefully you will agree!
Frank and Alice lovers: fear not, for I, too, adore this made-for-each-other couple! However, all fictional true love deserves drama!!
oh, and there's a scene in here which I feels like maybe I wrote something similar in ITISNS, but I really can't be sure... taking after JKR herself, I'll just hope that no one who read that will actually go through those mammoth chapters and check (I swear, she just MADE STUFF UP at the end of "Deathly Hallows").
Disclaimer: JKR and The Beatles: great, si, but I own neither.
By the way, I NEVER update this quickly, as anyone who read Shaken, Not Stirred can tell you... I ought to be conditioning readers to get used to long waits, but I just didn't have the heart not to update while I had this chapter completely finished. Thank you to the wonderful reviewers!
Chapter 5- "The Shape of Things to Come"
Or
"Revolution"
The night sky stretched out, a regal portrait of diamond studded black velvet. Over the forest, a few milky clouds gathered, and a chilly wind swept through the grounds, every blade of grass quivering, every leaf rustling. Lily closed her eyes, breathing deeply and leaning slightly further over the window frame. The cold, the dark, the stars, the flecks of light in the glassy lake—they were beautiful. They were among the most beautiful things Lily could imagine. She was in love with scenery, but this had to end.
"Lily, are you awake?" came Marlene's voice from her own bed, and Lily turned to see her friend, peering through her bed curtains. She was still mostly asleep. "This is the fourth night in a row."
It was the third, but Lily did not argue the point. "Go back to sleep, Mar."
"Lily..." But the blonde was already obeying, closing the curtains and collapsing onto her pillow, so that Lily could hear the faint thump. She smiled weakly.
The third night in a row.
The third sleepless, beautiful, wearisome night in a row.
The seventh that month.
Two weeks ago, Lily had watched October arrive from the exact same window in the girls' dormitory, and in another two weeks she would—no doubt—be watching it fade in favor of November. Sighing, Lily rested her chin in her hands and closed her eyes, praying for sleep... just five or six hours...
"Lily!" called a voice from the abyss, and Lily turned her head away. She didn't want to heed it. She didn't want to be called away from this... "Lily, it's eight thirty!"
Shit.
Lily's eyes flew open, and Carlotta Meloni was standing over her, hands on her perfectly slim hips, while one brown eyebrow was arched. "You slept on the windowsill again, Lily," said Carlotta, as Lily stumbled to her feet.
"Damn it. Eight thirty did you say?"
Carlotta nodded.
"Where are the others?"
"They went down to breakfast forty five minutes ago. They told me to wake you at eight, but I was in the shower and..."
"No, it's fine."
Lily looked around the dormitory, trying to find her school clothes. Carlotta, with a slight smile on her rosy lips, pointed to Lily's trunk. "Thanks," said the prefect, grabbing her clothes and heading for the vanity desk. She started on make-up.
"You know," Carlotta began, sitting on a bed, "I'd be careful, if I were you."
"What do you mean?" asked Lily, only half paying attention. She hastily ran the mascara brush up her thick black eyelashes.
"Well, I read this book once, and it said that if you're loosing sleep for no reason, it's because your spirit knows that something is about to happen."
Lily looked at Carlotta in her looking glass reflection. "Something bad?"
"Probably," said the brunette. "Something big, that's for certain."
"Oh. Well, this probably has nothing to do with that... I mean, school has been really stressful lately and all."
"Right." Carlotta nodded, running a hand over her smooth dark hair. "I'm sure this is nothing like that." She was quiet for a time.
Lily bit her lip. "What about you, Carlotta? Are you... losing sleep?"
"Oh, no, I'm fine." But Carlotta's voice seemed of a higher pitch than usual. "Nothing serious, considering... you know, what happened in September."
Knowing she was running late, but also knowing that she had some obligation to the girl that had woken her this morning, Lily pressed: "What's the matter, Carlotta? Is something wrong with school?"
"No, no... it's just... stupid. Boy trouble, you know."
"Boy trouble? You? Carlotta... dear... what boy has ever rejected you?"
The brunette laughed (even that was perfect). "I spent some time with this chap over holidays," she began, positively glowing. "He's... sweet and fantastic but... I'm not his type."
"Is he gay?"
"No."
"Then you're his type, Carlotta."
"So you think I should... pursue it?"
"If you like him, and if you think he could like you, why not?"
Carlotta beamed. "Thank you, Lily. I can't talk to Shelley about this sort of thing... she doesn't understand how anybody can fancy a bloke that isn't James Potter."
"That obsession hasn't died?" sighed Lily. Carlotta shook her head.
"I'll see you in class, Lily."
"Right. See you."
"And... Lily... I'm sure nothing bad will happen."
She floated out of the room, and Lily watched her go. Once alone, the redhead looked into the mirror and stared at her sleep deprived reflection. Carlotta had a lot of strange ideas... this "not sleeping" bit was probably just one of those. This was probably just...
Eight thirty four.
"Shit," Lily swore, finishing the mascara on her other eye. If she didn't hurry up, something bad would definitely happen, no mystery about it...
(Something)
"You're late," said McGonagall, as Lily slid into a desk.
"Just barely," pleaded the Gryffindor. McGonagall sent her a warning look, but said nothing else on the matter.
"As I was saying before the interruption," the older witch went on, "Non-verbal transformations are especially difficult. However, while it is easier verbalizing the words, there is less room for error when using a non-verbal spell. Thus, attempting human transformations with vocal spells may be more difficult, but it will be no more dangerous. That is why I have decided that you will start preliminary exercises on human transformation this week and then continue on to non-verbal human transformations next Wednesday. Now, I know that most of you still prefer to lean on the crutch of voicing the spell, but as sixth years, it is no longer practical for this to be your sole means of casting magic. All the teachers will be implementing silent spell casting into their classes, when applicable..." Here, most of the class groaned, "...and it will appear on your N.E.W.T.s next year. Notebooks out..."
She drew her wand and flicked it once—a stick of chalk appeared, and began to scribble on the blackboard. Lily took out her notebook and turned to Mary, with whom she shared a desk.
"Great—I'm rotten at non-verbal spells and now we'll be doing them in all our classes."
"Mhm..." But Mary did not seem to be listening. "Lily, who's that bloke that's been hanging around Adam McKinnon so much lately?"
Lily looked towards the area of Mary's interest and noted the skinny, large eyed Hufflepuff she had encountered outside of Lathe's office weeks ago. "I don't know his name," Lily admitted. "But I think he's the bloke who spotted Adam trying to jump off the Astronomy Tower. I've only spoken to him two or three times. Why do you ask?" When Mary did not immediately answer, Lily added: "He's not exactly your type, is he?"
"No. Oh, God, no." Mary winced. "It's not that... but he sent me the oddest look when I was coming into the classroom this morning."
"Quiet, please," called McGonagall irritably, and every chattering student in the room was silenced. "Thank-you."
When the bell rang in indication of the class' completion, Lily rose with the others and—with the others—battled towards the door. The corridor was predictably packed, but Lily was in no rush: she had a free period and planned to spend it napping in the Common Room. She let out a great yawn and waited for the traffic to lift. She had just reached the sixth floor, when she noticed a large group of students gathered around the notice board.
"Have they finally posted Quidditch try outs?" Donna, who walked beside Lily, wondered aloud. Mary had disappeared to visit a Ravenclaw bloke she was seeing, and Marlene was no where to be found. "Potter's been having us practice for a week with no seeker. C'mon let's take a look."
The two girls pushed their way towards the notice board.
"Someone take them down!" a young girl was saying, in hushed tones. "If Dumbledore sees it..."
"Nonsense, Dumbledore must already know about it," an older boy replied. "Nothing goes on without Dumbledore knowing..."
"Don't be naïve, Bertie," snapped someone else. "We have to take them down!"
"I don't see what's so bad, anyway. It's just someone's opinion, that's all."
"You shut up, Kelly. Take them down, Bertie. You're a prefect!"
"Take what down?" Lily asked loudly, but her question was answered as she reached the notice board. A dozen sheets of parchment were pinned up, covering the entire surface, with bold black lettering the read:
THE DARK LORD RISES.
Lily's heart skipped a beat. Then, breathing deeply, she tore down one of the sheets. She tore another and another, and with Donna's help, had them all down in a few seconds. Turning to the others, Lily said coldly: "If you see any more of these, report it to a teacher immediately, is that understood?"
Everyone was silent. At length, a fifth year prefect by the name of Bertram Aubrey coughed loudly, and said: "Lily, are... are you joking?"
"What do you mean?"
"Haven't you seen...?"
"Seen what?" asked Lily impatiently.
"The... the signs." He pointed to the end of the corridor. The wall, running perpendicular to the corridor in which they stood was covered, floor to ceiling, with the signs. The Dark Lord Rises.
"They're in our Common Room, too," a second year volunteered.
"Why haven't the teachers seen?" asked Lily
"They weren't here this morning," someone told them. "I only noticed them after first period."
"Me, too."
"Yeah, so did I."
"Someone should tell the teachers," said Donna.
"They'll be in class," said Bertram. "The bell is about to ring at any moment."
"Don't you think they might think this is worth missing a little class for?" asked Lily dryly. Bertram blushed. "Alright, everyone—get to your next class. We have a free period now; we'll tell the teachers."
The crowd slowly dispersed. Lily turned to Donna. "I have a job for you, and you're not going to like it, but if it's any comfort, I'm not going to enjoy my job any more than you are."
Donna frowned. "I really do not like the sound of that."
Knock, knock.
Donna's fist wrapped hastily on the office door, and a moment later, a weary voice from within called: "Yes?"
She opened the door and stepped inside. Jack Lathe sat at his desk one hand in his hair and the other flipping through a large stack of papers.
"Can I help you?" he asked, not looking up from his work.
"There's something... er... something that's been happening around the school, that I thought you should know about."
"Does it have to do with the investigation on Miss Meloni, Mr. McKinnon, and..."
"No."
"Then why would I have to know about it?" he asked, looking up and raising his eyebrows. Donna pulled a folded up paper from her pocket and, unfolding it, set it upon his desk. The four black words stared up at Lathe, and he at them. Then he met Donna's eye and asked, quiet seriously: "Where?"
"All around."
Lathe got to his feet, grabbing a cloak and throwing it around his shoulders. "Has someone told Dumbledore yet? The staff?"
"Someone... someone is telling Dumbledore right now."
(Don't Let Me Down)
It was the quietest walk James had ever taken, that trip to Dumbledore's office. Lily's strides were brisk, no doubt with the dual purpose of reaching the Headmaster's office quickly and keeping just ahead of her companion. The silence between them was too thick and uncomfortable to even be awkward. It was just quiet. They reached the statue of the griffin which both students knew to be the entrance into Dumbledore's office.
"Alright, then," prompted Lily, after a moment. "Are you going to... y'know...?"
"Oh, right." James thought briefly. "Peppermint Toads," he said at length. They waited. The griffin remained stationary.
Lily's hands found their way to her hips. "I thought you said you could get in."
"That was the password last week!" James replied defensively. "And don't snap at me. You came and dragged me out of a perfectly good chess match..."
"Remus was creaming you, and this is more important. Plus, you lied to me..."
"I didn't lie to you, Snaps. You asked if I knew how to get into Dumbledore's office—which I do—and if I knew the password—which I thought I did."
Lily shook her head. "Fine. Fine, return to your precious chess game, and I'll go find McGonagall."
James crossed his arms. "You're giving up that easily? Pathetic."
"What?"
"So I don't know the password! So what?"
"So we can't get in."
James cocked his head. "Oh ye of little faith." He turned to the griffin. "Jelly slugs." Nothing happened. "Licorice Wands. Bon-Bons. Chocolate Cauldrons... Vanilla Cauldrons. Er..."
"Seriously, Potter? This is your plan?"
"Stop griping and help."
Lily frowned. "Ice mice," she said. Nothing happened. "This is stupid. I'm getting McGonagall."
"After you've tried so hard to guess the password?" asked James sarcastically. "Cockroach Clusters? Really, Snaps, give it a chance."
"Fine. Sugar plum fairies."
"Not bad. Caramel Quaffles."
"Tooth-flossing Stringmints."
"Gross. Acid Pops."
"Dark Chocolate Dragons."
"Drooble's Chewing Gum."
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."
"Sugar Quills."
"Fudge Flies."
The griffin creaked. Slowly, it began to revolve, opening up to reveal a stairway. James bowed. "Congratulations, Snaps."
Lily smiled. Then she stopped herself. "Stop that," she ordered. He raised his eyebrows.
"Stop what?"
"Being nice."
"You want me to be mean?"
"I want you to be consistent."
"When am I mean?"
"I am not going to dignify that with an answer."
James shrugged. "Fine. Whatever." And just like that, the moody James returned. "I'll see you around, Snaps." Hands in his pockets, he began to leave.
"Aren't—aren't you coming to see Dumbledore?" Lily called after him.
He paused, looking back at her apathetically. "What do I care if some Slytherin idiot is putting up Voldemort propaganda? Sticks and stones, right?" There was a trace of that crooked grin on his face as he started to go.
"I thought it was called 'standing up for the right thing,'" Lily challenged. James shook his head.
"No. You've got it mixed... it's called 'picking you battles.'"
"I guess we'll never end up picking the same battles, you and I," said Lily.
"I guess not."
(A Day in the Life)
"Have you been sleeping alright, Lily-Flower?"
This, from Luke, as the pair sat in the library on Friday evening. Lily looked up at her boyfriend, biting her lip. "Why do you ask?"
"Marlene said you'd been up a lot," he replied, taking her hand.
"Oh. Oh, right. No, yeah I've been going through a little insomnia, that's all."
"Is something wrong?"
Lily realized Luke wanted to talk, so she had no chance at finishing her Transfiguration Essay just now. She pushed the books aside and rested her chin on her hand, her elbow propped up on the table the couple shared. "I suppose it's the stress from school. And with those posters appearing around the school... that was a bit of a scare, you know?"
"Oh, you shouldn't let that get to you," said Luke. "Really, Flower, it's nonsense, what a couple of overenthusiastic, old-fashioned types can get around to." Seeing that the problem was of such little significance, Luke returned to his own homework. Lily was less than satisfied.
"Luke," she began slowly, "The death eater movement is more than a few 'overenthusiastic, old-fashioned types' running around posting paper on bulletin boards... you know that, right?"
"Hmmm… barely. Say, do you know what three potions can be used to sooth the symptoms of Dragon Pox?
"Luke," pressed his girlfriend earnestly, "This Voldemort wizard... he's serious. He has enough support that he could pose a serious threat to..."
"Lily, his supporters are a bunch of rich old wizards and some hot-blooded teenagers. You have nothing to worry about."
"I have everything to worry about," Lily protested. "Luke, these people have serious support. Did you know that before the actual killings started, forty-two percent of the wizard population said they thought Voldemort had the right idea?"
"That's just some statistic, Flower," said Luke, stroking her hand soothingly. "Really, you have to understand that a lot of wizards think that our world would be better if everyone was the same, and you can't exactly blame them..."
"The same," echoed Lily coldly. "Pureblood, you mean? Everyone's not the same, Luke. That's life. What are you supposed to do—kill the muggleborns?"
"No, Lily of course not! No!"
"Quiet in the library!" snapped the librarian, Mrs. Sevoy, stepping over towards their table. They lowered their tones, and Luke went on:
"Obviously it's impossible to make everyone the same," he whispered. "But everything would be simpler if there were some way..." Lily opened her mouth to protest, but he went on: "if there were some way to make everyone pureblood... or so that no muggles inherited the magical trait, there would be no more warring in our world. You have to see how that would be appealing to some people, Flower."
Lily took a moment to find her voice. "Luke," she said, slowly because she had not felt this much anger inside of her for quite a long time, "if no 'muggles' as you put it, could inherit the magical trait, I wouldn't be sitting here right now."
"Well, it's all hypothetical, so what does it matter? You are sitting here now... that's the important thing." He smiled benignly at her.
"It's not all hypothetical—sorry, Mrs. Sevoy—it's not all hypothetical, don't you see? It's in practice... Voldemort, the death eaters... that's the manifestation of those ideas. And you can't make everyone the same... people will always have differences in... intelligence, talents, opinions. That's what being human is... nuance, flaws..."
"But, Lily," said Luke, as though speaking to a young child, "we're not just human. We're magic. We're witches and wizards... that's something different then just human."
"We're still flawed," said Lily, her tone utterly stony now. She rose from the table.
"Where are you going, Lily-Flower?" the Ravenclaw asked, genuinely confused.
"I'm... I'm suddenly very hungry. I'm going to dinner."
"It's not even five thirty!"
But Lily shoved her school supplies into her book bag and hurried out of the library. She walked briskly down the corridors, not quite sure where she was headed. How could someone be so stupid? How could someone completely misunderstand the world? How could he honestly believe that magic had dissolved the faults of the species? How could be so oblivious to everything?
She was nearly jogging by the time she reached the third floor, and it was there that she noticed a large group of fourth years, chatting loudly. The prefect slowed down in an attempt to regain composure, and as she passed the group, she heard her name.
"Lily!" A boy with curly hair, whom Lily recognized as Alice Griffiths' younger brother, raced up to her. "Lily, there are more..."
He pointed to a bulletin board, which had been obscured by the fourth years until now. With the same white parchment and black ink, a new message was spelled out.
THE DARK LORD IS COMING TO HOGWARTS.
When Lily found McGonagall five minutes later on the ground floor, the teacher already knew. "They're all over the castle," sighed the professor wearily. "We're taking them down, now. If anyone panics, try to calm them down or send them to Healer Holloway for a potion. I'm very sorry, Lily, but I must go..."
McGonagall slipped past her, up the marble stairway. Lily had never seen her so pale.
Now alone with a group of other students, the redhead looked about for one of her friends. She located Alice Griffiths and Frank Longbottom near the Great Hall and made her way towards them.
"Frank and I noticed them first," Alice explained. "We were just coming from the infirmary—Frank had a headache—and we noticed them all over the wall outside. We were the ones who fetched McGonagall..."
"How could they just appear all over the castle in the middle of the day?" Lily wondered. Alice was silent, and Frank shook his head. Sighing, Lily followed the pair into the Great Hall. She already knew that sleep would not come tonight.
(It Won't Be Long)
SOON, BLOOD PURITY
"Well you have to admit," James Potter pointed out, reading the newest message, which appeared at lunch on Monday, "It's not as threatening as the others."
Lily looked over her shoulder where James stood, leaning casually against the wall, and she crumpled up the parchment she had saved. The staff was already in the process of removing all the others by magic.
"In fact," he continued, as she started down the corridor, and he followed a step behind, "if you take it completely out of context, it could be a nice little reference to curing diseases or something. Soon, our blood will be disease-less..."
"What do you want, Potter?" Lily asked with a sigh.
"Mostly, I'm enjoying just bothering you," he admitted. Lily said nothing. "Say, Snaps, what's the matter with you, anyway?"
Lily stopped. She smoothed out the parchment, and read aloud: "Soon, blood purity. Merlin, Potter, what do you think is wrong with me?"
"I'm not talking about that... you look like you haven't slept in about a year."
"Have you been talking to Marlene too, then? I wish she would stop telling everyone she sees that..."
"Marlene hasn't said a word to me. You just look like shit, that's all."
"That's sweet."
"I'm just saying."
They rounded the corner, on the other side of which Professor McGonagall and Jack Lathe—the auror—stood in quiet counsel. Lily spotted them before they had any opportunity to see her, and the young witch immediately doubled back, pulling James with her.
"Lord, Evans, you're not even going to buy me dinner first?"
"Shhh!" Lily shushed, peering around the corner.
"What are you doing?" James whispered.
"Eavesdropping."
"Mmm, classy."
"Shhh!"
Lily moved a little closer to the corner. "Minerva, I understand your position," Lathe was saying, "But I really don't think that this falls under the realm of my investigation. These messages are children's games... sick and distorted, yes, but I'm almost certain that they don't pertain to my investigation."
"Almost, Mr. Lathe," said McGonagall.
"I can't. I don't even have a lead on the first investigation..."
"Might not this be a lead?"
"No."
"Mr. Lathe..."
"Listen, Professor McGonagall, if I think that I can somehow find time to look into the matter while I'm..."
"Thank-you."
The click of McGonagall's shoes on the stone floor could be heard, growing quieter and quieter. Lily peered around the corner, just in time to see Lathe heading in their direction. She whipped back around the corner, but Lathe continued walking past, without paying them any heed.
James looked at her. "Usually, Snaps, when you eavesdrop, you're trying to find out information that isn't completely dull and useless."
"Is that why everything you say is dull and useless?" asked Lily sweetly. "To avoid eavesdroppers?"
Sure that neither McGonagall nor Lathe was about, Lily started down the corridor once more. James followed.
"Do you know what I find strange?" he mused, hands in his pockets and as he wore an expression of thoughtful but passing interest. "The fact that these messages appear in the middle of the day, at completely random times, and yet no one is seen putting them up. In fact, they're not even seen appearing."
Lily was silent, so he continued in the same, practically apathetic tone. "It makes me think that they're put up during the night, you know? Yeah, whoever's doing it sneaks around in the middle of the night—dodging the faculty and Ministry patrols, because those are about as complex as Snivellus's hair care regiment—and then vanishing them... timed, so they reappear at the exact moment that he or she or they want them to." James glanced at Lily out of the corner of his eye, knowing that he had her full attention now.
"You've been thinking about this," she accused. "I thought you said you didn't care about a few stupid propaganda posters."
"I don't," he said at once. "Not even a little. Of course, someone who cared even a little would probably want to have a look around after hours."
"That person," Lily responded, ceasing her walk and turning to stand eye-to-eye with Potter, "would have to possess thorough knowledge of the castle and the apparently non-complex patrols, so they wouldn't get caught."
"He or she would, indeed," James agreed.
"I wonder where one could find such a person... a person with both the motivation and the expertise, that is."
"Certainly, it's a rarity."
"But not an impossibility."
"No, not an impossibility."
They stood in temporary ceasefire. At length, Lily continued: "Then again, I find that if someone does possess the expertise, the motivation is fairly easily... incited... in oneself."
"I beg to differ. I think that if one were to have motivation, all they would have to do is ask someone with the expertise for a little education."
"And does someone with the motivation know anyone who has the expertise and is willing to share said expertise?"
James sort of half smiled, then shook his head. "It doesn't look like it."
Lily nodded. "I expected as much."
"Really?"
"Mhm. Such people tend to pick different battles."
(Hello, Goodbye)
Lily took her seat in Potions class on Tuesday, unprepared for anything dramatic to occur in the class. She was, therefore, sufficiently surprised, when it was not Mary Macdonald who took the other half of the desk, but Severus Snape. Lily looked up to see Mary attempting to sneak away.
"Mary."
"Lily," said the brunette, turning slowly, "I think it would be good for you and your... friend..." She barely managed to say the word, "to work things out, for better or for worse."
Lily frowned. "How much did he pay you to give up your seat?"
"Lily, I would..."
"Mary."
"Five-galleons-don't-hate-me-I-really-need-new-shoes." Smiling hopefully, Mary scurried off to find a new seat, and Lily did not make eye contact with her new desk-mate. She began to unload her potions supplies, her expression sullen.
"Lily, you have to talk to me."
"Well, it's flattering to know I'm worth ten galleons, anyway,"
"So, that's it—you're just... never going to forgive me?"
"I've forgiven you. You're forgiven. Move on."
"This isn't like you."
"Well, I hear mudbloods can be downright unpredictable sometimes, Sev."
"Don't say that. You sound like... one of them."
Lily looked at him. "One of whom? What does that even mean?"
"I don't know... just... you sounded... it sounded like something one of the... the Marauders would say." Lily noticed her former friend cast an unfriendly look towards the four Marauders, who were seated across the room. The Gryffindor witch rolled her eyes.
"This is stupid," she insisted. Severus said nothing, and with Professor Slughorn's arrival, the class commenced for some time without need or opportunity for conversation.
Eventually, the lecture concluded, and the potions professor instructed the class to begin work on their Pepperup Potions.
"Listen, Lily," said Snape, as she began to organize her ingredients (It felt like old times, sitting with him so), "I'm just anxious for you, that's all."
"It's convenient that you're anxious about me on the day Mulciber's in the Hospital Wing with a cold."
"It's not that," snapped Severus. "It's the posters that have been going up around school... you should watch yourself, with things like that happening. Just... be careful." Lily was quiet for a time.
"Do you know anything about those posters?" she asked, at length. "I mean, do you have any idea who's responsible?"
"You seem to think I do," remarked the other, somewhat resentfully.
"I wouldn't be surprised if a member of your house was responsible, that's all," replied Lily. "Well... do you know anything?"
Severus's expression was very bitter. "We're not friends, Lily. You keep saying so. And yet, now that you want something, you'll talk to me. Is that right?"
"I didn't realize your doing the right thing was contingent upon our friendship," replied the Gryffindor. "Just forget about it, Severus. There's no point in arguing about this."
Professor Slughorn made his slow way over to their table, his aged face practically glowing with anticipation as he peered into the cauldrons. "Excellent, excellent," he muttered proudly. "It's so good to see the two of you together in Potions again. The dream team reunited at last. Keep up the excellent work." Smiling, he moved towards the next desk ("Really, Mr. Cattermole, you must learn to add your ingredients in better sequence!").
Lily, meanwhile, picked up a container of flakey green leaves, and began to add a small portion of the ingredients into her cauldron.
"You're adding the moonroot too soon," Severus informed her.
Lily shook her head. "It doesn't matter if you let it brew for ten minutes or add the moonroot immediately," she said. "Not for the Pepperup Potion."
"The other ingredients won't steam properly," argued the Slytherin.
"They will, though. I've tried it."
He looked at her, surprised. "You've made the Pepperup Potion before?"
Nodding: "Several times. It's useful. When cold season comes about, you don't have to run to the Infirmary all the time."
Severus nodded as well. He was quiet for the remainder of the class, and though Lily noticed him, trying to catch her eye when the bell rang and she gathered her ingredients, the Gryffindor made no further attempt to speak with him.
(Act Naturally)
"And once again, if anyone believes they have information on these terrible, terrible messages," croaked Professor Babble, the middle aged witch who taught Ancient Runes, "I hope you will come forward."
The latest threat appeared on Tuesday afternoon.
RETRIBUTION APPROACHES THE MUDBLOODS AND BLOODTRAITORS.
The bell rang, indicating the end of the period, and Lily and Donna began to collect their books and notes. "How likely is it that someone in this class has any information about the messages?" Donna scoffed, throwing her book bag over one shoulder. "Besides us, there are just straight-laced Ravenclaws and a few drowning Hufflepuffs. And Lupin, of course."
Lily smiled weakly. "I wish someone knew something, though. I know it's stupid, but I can't help being a little worried about this whole business."
"You're right," agreed Donna, "It is stupid." They started down the staircase. "Well, why don't you ask Snape about it? He might know something."
"Believe it or not, I sort of did ask. He brought it up," she added hastily, "But I threw in a not-so-subtle hint that I thought he might know something."
"What did he say?"
"That I was using him," replied the prefect.
Donna rolled her eyes. "Like he cares."
"I hate men, right now," Lily noted, folding her arms. "You know, I think I'm feuding with just about every male in my life right now."
"Is that why you've been so cold towards Prince Charming?" asked her friend.
"I assume you mean Luke?"
"Yeah."
Lily nodded. "I liked him better when he just didn't talk about politics. Then, with Sev being downright mean during Potions, and James Potter being... James Potter. I really do loathe men."
"Join the club, genius," replied Donna. "What about Adam McKinnon? Frank Longbottom? You can't hate them all."
"I don't," admitted Lily. "Although, I'm none-too-pleased with Frank at the moment. He's been acting strangely. First, I thought he was just having problems with Alice, but at the prefect meeting the other day he was so... jumpy."
"I haven't noticed anything."
"Shocking."
Donna caught the sarcasm and made a face. "Oh, by the way, are you headed to the Common Room?"
"I'm starved," said Lily, "I think I'll just head straight down to the Great Hall... bring my books up to the dormitory later."
"Fine by me." They continued the descent, encountering Marlene, Miles, and Mary in the Entrance Hall, as the group returned from Care of Magical Creatures.
"Thank God," sighed Mary, spotting Donna and Lily. "Sanity!" Lily sent her an inquisitive look, and Mary jerked her head towards her two companions.
"For the sixteenth time," Marlene was saying to her boyfriend, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd already fed him, or else I wouldn't have!"
"Well you should've asked!" snapped Miles. "He vomited all over my shoes!"
"Well I'm sorry! It was an accident!"
"Saying 'it was an accident' doesn't solve anything," he replied. "Christ, Marly, there's a reason you're not in Ravenclaw. I'll see you later." Miles bitterly entered the Great Hall.
The others were silent for a moment. "Marlene," began Mary quietly, but the blonde did not want to hear it.
"Just... just, don't. I'm... I'm not hungry. 'See you up in the Common Room." With that, Marlene hurried up the marble staircase.
When she was gone, Donna looked puzzled. "Are we allowed to say shit like that to Marlene now? Because every time I say something like that, Lily tells me to be quiet..."
"This is mad," grumbled Mary, as the girls started towards Gryffindor table. "Someone has to say something to Marlene. She can't just tolerate this nonsense."
"We tell her that all the time," Lily reminded her. "Well... Donna does, anyway. She's not thick. She has to realize Miles is a prat..."
"Honestly," sighed Donna. "It's like feminism never happened. I don't see why adolescent females feel the need to throw their entire being into these stupid, immature relationships."
"Sex, mostly," Mary told her.
"You don't need a relationship to have sex," replied Donna.
"And you call me a tart."
"I am not a..."
"Stop bickering," said Lily. "I'm starting to think you're right, Mary."
"That Donna's a tart?"
"I am not a..."
"No, about Marlene," Lily interrupted. "Maybe we should say something to her about... oh, hullo, Adam." Blushing slightly, Lily smiled at Adam McKinnon, as he took a seat across from the three girls.
"Hi," he replied. "This... this seat isn't reserved for anyone, is it?"
"No," said Mary.
"No, it isn't," agreed Donna. "In fact, it might be good for you to sit there, because we were just saying how..."
"How we haven't spoken with you in a while," Lily jumped in. "I mean... how are you feeling? How's... life?"
Mary smothered laughter; Donna looked bewildered.
"Oh, I'm alright. Everything's gone back to normal, more or less." He served himself potatoes. "So... er... where's Marlene? She's not skipping dinner on account of that stupid diet again, is she?"
"Yes," said Mary, as Donna tried to say 'No.' "Yes. Marlene and Marlene's... stupid diet. We were... thinking of bringing her some dinner a little later on, actually. Force feeding her... there might be tubes involved."
"We were?" asked Donna.
"The nice ones among us were."
Adam grinned. "Well, I can do it. She's up in the Common Room, you think?"
"Probably," said Lily. He grabbed a plate.
"Do you think she'll want bread?"
"No, she doesn't eat bread," Mary told him.
"What about desert?"
"She doesn't eat desert," Lily said.
"Vegetables?"
"If they're raw."
"That bird is insane," Adam noted, but 'insane' did not sound like the word he wanted to use. When he'd finished compiling a meal, Adam bid his farewells and headed out of the Great Hall.
"Why did you lie to him?" Donna demanded. "I'm so confused by this 'girl language' thing that you two do."
"We couldn't tell Adam that Miles was being a git to Marlene," said Lily. "It would humiliate her."
Mary sighed, resting her chin in her hand. "I don't believe that boy has a single flaw. I think it's possible that he is absolutely perfect. I swear, if Mar doesn't sleep with him soon, I will."
"Tart," said Donna.
"Shut up."
(With a Little Help From My Friends)
"I'm in," said Sirius.
"Me, too," said Peter quickly.
"Well, of course I'm in," said Remus. "We're going to do something useful for once. How could I sit out on this one?"
"Ignoring Moony's condescension," said James, pulling off his cloak and setting a pack of cigarettes down on the dormitory desk, "Good. The only problem is, I'm not quite sure the four of us will all fit under the Invisibility Cloak. We've all grown a fair bit since first year."
"He's right," said Sirius. "We should split up."
"The castle will be dark," Peter put in. "Do you think a disillusionment charm would hide two of us?"
Remus said that he thought it would. "Then, if there's more than one person to follow, Wormtail and I could tail one, while Prongs and Padfoot take the other."
"Excellent," said Sirius. "What time should we leave?"
"Hold it a second," Peter interjected, "how do we know that tonight's the night to look? I mean, it's all been somewhat random, up till now."
James shook his head, unconcerned. "It's tonight. Trust me." He sat down on his bed, leaning over the edge and digging through his trunk for something. At length, the Marauder located the object of his search. He pulled out a folded up piece of parchment. "As for leaving—we don't know when that will be. We'll have to use the map." He waved the parchment demonstratively.
"Like a stake out," said Sirius, thrilled. He snatched the map from his friend's hand. "Sounds like fun. When do we start?"
"This is not fun," sighed Remus, rubbing the back of his sore neck. "Prongs, you didn't mention having to wait in the History of Magic classroom. It smells like a retirement home in here."
"The morgue at a retirement home, really," Sirius threw in, as he lay stretched out on Professor Binns's desk.
"It's the ideal location," James replied. "It's the fourth floor—right near the stairwell. If anything shows up on the map, we'll be able to get there quickly."
Peter yawned. "It's two-thirty in the morning," he said. "Are you sure it's tonight, Prongs?"
"Yes." But his confidence in that statement was beginning to wane. James stared down at the map on the desktop before him. The image portrayed on it was mostly still, with a few exceptions. The dots representing Argus Filch and Rubeus Hagrid continued to roam the corridors (far from the History of Magic classroom).
"No one new has left their Common Room?" Sirius asked, drawing pictures in the air with his wand.
"No," said James. "Missy Lewis and Daniel Strout just vacated their closet on the second floor and are headed back to Hufflepuff."
"Already?" laughed Sirius. "They only went in two minutes ago. Remind me to make fun of Strout for that later."
Even Remus cracked a smile at this. "Listen, Prongs, maybe we should set a deadline. If nothing happens by three o'clock, then..."
"I see him."
"What?"
Sirius rolled off the desk, and the other two Marauders rose to join James by the map. "Where?" asked Peter. James pointed.
"Roland Urquhart?" asked Remus. "Do any of us know him?"
"He's a seventh year," Sirius supplied. "Tried out for Slytherin's Quidditch team during our... what was it? Fourth year? That was the year we spied on their tryouts, which, it turns out, is a bloody waste of time, because nothing interesting happens there. This bloke, Urquhart, he didn't make the team. He was a horrid flier. He also asked my cousin Narcissa out once, but she shot him down."
"Do you know anything he hasn't failed at?" Remus asked, amused.
"Well, so far he's confused the staff a fair bit," said James.
"We don't know that he's doing this," said Moony slowly. "I mean, maybe he's just going for a walk, and..."
"I'm following him," James interrupted, picking up his silver Invisibility Cloak.
"Guilty until proven innocent, Prongs?"
"That's right, Moony."
Remus began to protest, but Sirius pointed at the map. "Look how he's moving, Lupin... he's stopping on the second floor..." The dot labeled Roland Urquhart did indeed pause for nearly thirty seconds, before moving down the corridor in great haste.
"You're right... you should follow him," Lupin relented. "Did you leave the ink and parchment for the letter?"
James pointed to a desk where said articles rested. "You get started at it. And keep one of the two way mirrors with you, so we can tell you exactly where to write, yeah?"
"Right," said Peter.
Sirius helped James flatten out the Invisibility Cloak. "You two will be able to cast the disillusionment spell alright? You don't want us to do it, so you can use the cloak?"
"We're not infants," snapped Remus. "Just go. And take the map."
"You take it," James replied, pushing the Marauders' Map into Moony's hands. "I've been staring at that thing for hours. I've memorized the guard rotation. You'll need it more than we do."
"But you need to track Urquhart. What if you lose him?" James frowned, realizing that Remus was right. "Don't worry, I paid some attention too. I think I've got the rotation down."
"Hurry up," said Sirius. James grabbed the corner of the Invisibility Cloak and threw it around himself and his best friend. They vanished. Seconds later, the door to the classroom opened and closed.
Remus turned to the parchment, ink, and quill awaiting him. "Do you want to write it, Peter, or should I?"
"You do it," answered the other. "In case they check the handwriting."
Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he picked up the quill and began to write.
Sirius and James, meanwhile, crept along down the staircase, careful to stay low so that the hem of the cloak dragged along the ground at the bottom. Sirius kept his eyes on the map. "He's made one last stop on the second floor... I reckon he'll go up to the third floor after that."
"I reckon there's a trick step on that staircase," whispered James, grinning.
Moving as quickly as possible, the pair reached the second floor landing. A skinny boy with sunken eyes and pale skin stood not far off, waving his wand as though conducting an orchestra. In response to his wand, a dozen sheets of parchment danced through the air, eventually landing against the wall in a large formation. Urquhart paused, crossing his arms and observing his work with satisfaction for a moment, before raising his wand again and flicking it once at the wall. The patch of white on the wall suddenly vanished, leaving nothing but the normal stone behind.
"I love being right," sighed James. Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Don't get cocky. We haven't pulled this off yet. C'mon."
While Urquhart levitated a large Santa-Claus-like bag (which James suspected was not filled with presents) and started up the corridor, the two Marauders turned and retreated up the staircase, careful to skip the trick step they knew only too well. They reached the next floor landing, ducking around a corner, just as Roland Urquhart reached the first step.
"Ready?" asked Sirius. In response, James pulled the cloak away, just enough for him to aim his wand. Then, leaning around the corner ever so slightly, James waited.
Urquhart—with a business-like expression on his pallid face—moved up the stairway obliviously. At the fifth step, the Slytherin paused, ready to hop over the trick sixth step, but before he could, James waved his wand, and Urquhart tripped forward. He dropped the sack, and a dozen white papers flew out. Urquhart let out a small cry, but caught himself, before his leg touched the trick step. Sirius swore, but James was undeterred. The Gryffindor waved his wand again, and Urquhart's eyes began to droop. A moment later, he was asleep.
"Genius, mate," muttered Sirius, pulling off the cloak. "I'll tell Moony." He grabbed a silver handled mirror from his back pocket and looked into it, saying: "Remus Lupin."
Remus's face appeared a moment later, and while James raced down the steps towards Urquhart, Sirius said to his more remote friend: "We've got him. He'll be stuck in the trick step between the second and third floors."
"Right," said Remus. "Meet you in the Common Room in ten minutes."
"Good luck."
Sirius replaced the mirror and followed James's movement downward. The ringleader Marauder was maneuvering the unconscious Urquhart's leg into the trick step.
"Need any help?" asked Padfoot.
"Put his hand around the banister, so he doesn't fall through, will you?"
Sirius complied, forcing Urquhart's arm through the railing. "Will he be awake in time?"
"Just barely," replied the other. "He'll think he was knocked out when he tripped, but he won't have any time to figure out an escape by the time he's caught."
"Excellent."
The two boys straightened up, surveying their work for a moment. Sirius picked up one of the loose parchments, reading aloud: "Tourjous Pur." He looked at James. "That's my family's mantra. The Black House motto, I mean." Frowning, Sirius added: "You don't think that...?"
"No."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because Regulus isn't an idiot, that's how. He might not be the nicest bloke, but he's not some creepy loner who thinks he can scare people with poorly worded threats. Plus, he wouldn't leave his family mantra on the parchment unless he wanted to be found out. It would be like signing his initials."
"You're right," agreed Sirius. "Reg's a git, but he's not that stupid."
"We should get going."
"Right."
Sirius set down the parchment. "See you soon, Roland, mate."
They hurried up the stairway, and covered themselves with the Invisibility Cloak once more, before beginning the return trip to the Common Room.
"I'll put it on the door," said Peter. Remus raised an eyebrow (not that his companion could really see this, as they were both somewhat transparent).
"You sure?"
"Well, you wrote it. I should take some risks, shouldn't I?"
"Alright, go ahead."
Peter hurried forward, a folded piece of parchment in his hand and, drawing his wand, he placed the parchment against the wooden door before them. Then, pointing his wand directly against the parchment, Peter muttered a spell. When he moved away, the paper stuck to the door.
"Ready to run?" asked Peter.
"Yes."
"Great." The excitement was evident in his voice. He turned to the door again and pounded against it with his fist. "HEY, YOU! CHECK YOUR MAIL!" Wormtail shouted at the absolute top of his lungs. There was the sound of someone stirring inside, and Remus and Peter, barely holding in laughter, bolted down the corridor and around the corner as absolutely quickly as they could.
There was silence in the hallway for a moment, and then the door to which the Marauders had stuck their letter opened. Lathe appeared, obviously just waking up. He looked around, and then spotted the note. Unfolding it, he drew close to a torch so that he might read the writing.
DEAR MR. LATHE,
IF YOU'RE CURIOUS ABOUT WHO HAS BEEN LEAVING THE THREATENING NOTICES AROUND SCHOOL, HE HAS TRIPPED AND FALLEN IN THE TRICK STAIR BETWEEN THE SECOND AND THIRD FLOOR CORRIDORS. I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW.
SINCERELY,
THE ONE WHO CAUGHT HIM
Lathe darted into his room, returning seconds later with his dressing gown and wand.
(Girl)
Roland Urquhart was to be suspended for the remainder of the fall term.
"I would have expelled him," Marlene stated indifferently, as the news was discussed by a large group in the Entrance Hall the next morning (Thursday).
"Me too," said Donna.
For once, they agreed upon something.
"It was awful stupid of him to get caught in a trick stair," said Mary. "Even I don't get confused by those anymore."
Donna laughed. "Except last Christmas."
"We agreed not to discuss that ever again!" But even Mary was repressing laughter.
Lily laughed with the others, until she noticed Severus Snape across the hall. He was alone, and a sudden surge of pity caused Lily to move towards him.
"Roland Urquhart," she began awkwardly, as she approached. "Who would have thought, right?" Severus said nothing. "He wasn't one of your friends." Again, no reply. "Why didn't you just tell me that you didn't know anything about it?"
"Because you thought that I did, and I was angry," replied Snape. "And you only wanted to act like my friend on the condition that I could help you with that."
Lily shook her head. "That's not true. I didn't want to act like your friend at all."
Severus scowled.
"I was being funny," she informed him. Then more seriously, she continued: "I think you're right about one thing, though. I do have to forgive you. And... I want to do that." She waited. "Now, preferably."
He looked at her, bewildered. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that... maybe..." Was this the biggest mistake ever? "Maybe we could be friends again."
The shock was written across his face. "Really?"
She nodded.
"Oh. Well... okay."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Right."
"So..."
"So, I'll see you around, then."
"Right. Okay."
Lily turned and started back towards the girls. The crowd in the Entrance Hall began to move towards the Great Hall, so as to begin breakfast, and Lily was about to go in herself, when she noticed the Marauders chatting near
the marble staircase. An idea struck the prefect, and she started over there, making eye contact with James some distance away. She had crossed half the space between, when someone caught her arm.
"Luke!"
"Lily," said her boyfriend desperately, and he really did look sweet. "Lily, I'm so, so sorry. Listen, I talked to Marlene last night, and she explained to me why you've been so angry, and... I'm sorry. I'm just... of course you were right about everything. I don't know what I was thinking. I was just..."
"It's okay, Luke."
He smiled (gorgeous smile). "Really?"
"Really."
She really couldn't be angry at him. There just wasn't enough energy inside of her to dedicate itself to anger towards such a boy. He kissed her gently on the lips.
"I'll see you after breakfast, Flower."
"See you, Luke."
Lily beamed at him as he headed into the Great Hall. When he was gone, she looked over to where the Marauders had stood. Three had departed, but James lingered.
"Hi, there, Flower," he said, imitating Luke's low, serious voice.
"Shut up. Luke Harper is the sweetest bloke in the whole world, and you could not possibly understand that."
"Is he a good kisser?"
"Shut up." They stood in silence for a time, then Lily began: "So..." She crossed her arms across her chest.
"Did you sleep well, Snaps?" asked James cheerfully.
"Did you?"
"Excellently, thank-you."
"Funny, Potter, you look exhausted."
"Oh, well, I had a date."
"I see."
"Do you?"
Brief silence, then Lily continued: "So I have a question for you."
"Shoot."
"If someone with the expertise required to detect Roland Urquhart were to also possess the motivation for finding him out, how exactly would they know which night he chose to put up those awful posters?"
"Well, that's easy," replied James. "Such a person, non-existent as they are, would only have to look at the pattern in which the posters were put up. They only appeared on days after the nights Filch and Hagrid were assigned patrols, as opposed to the far more experienced Ministry investigators. A quick discussion with Hagrid would have told this mythical person of expertise and motivation that his next patrol was Wednesday night and then... the rest would be history."
Lily nodded, biting her lip to suppress the smile. "Do you know what I heard?"
"No."
"I heard that Lathe is saying someone tipped him off about where he might find Urquhart. A student left a message for him, apparently. Anonymously."
James looked surprised. "Is that right? Wow. Weird. Who do you think it could be?"
"I don't know," Lily admitted with a sigh. "Undoubtedly someone with..."
"Motivation and expertise?" supplied James.
"A consistent character and something to prove," added the redhead.
"Well, I don't know anyone like that."
"Yeah... me neither."
"I'm sort of jealous of the person, though," James continued thoughtfully. "He or she must have been terribly clever."
"Well," said Lily, "Don't worry about it. Maybe you'll pick the next battle, yeah?"
"Unlikely."
"But not impossible."
"No, I guess not."
"I'll... see you in class, Potter."
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter, because I did. If you're hesitant to review because you just DON'T know what you'll say, write song lyrics. I'm a serious review-whore... anything works. I'm joking--feedback makes my life--but only barely. Much love and happiness to all who review, and to the anonymous reviewers Katie (thank you! I'm so happy that you enjoyed!) and underbabe (gracias--this has a little more Lily-and-James-ness, si?).
Reviews are the days when MTV actually plays music.
Love and cookies,
Jewels