Welcome back!

Let's keep chugging along, shall we?

Chapter Nineteen

James Potter Must Die

James Potter was an idiot, but I had to admit, he was a self-preserving one.

In the week since the disastrous Halloween party and me almost puking up my love for Remus right in his lap until James's horrid timing, the ringleader of the Marauders had taken precautions to avoid me and my wrath. Attending different mealtimes, sprinting away down the corridors in between classes, pretending to be an armchair or a lamp whenever I entered the common room… As I said: a self-preserving idiot.

I didn't actually want to kill James, of course. In fact, after the first three days, his antics just became annoying instead of mildly amusing. Even Lily was getting fed up with his behavior. I had already gone through the five stages of grief upon realizing I would probably never get a chance with Remus like the one I had after Halloween, so my desire to throttle James and watch the light leave his eyes eventually evaporated as I threw myself into schoolwork and rehearsals instead.

The play was in a fortnight, as were the winter holidays, and the pressure within the school was mounting so high it was only a matter of time before we all exploded. Midterms, Christmas, the play – everyone in Hogwarts was stressing about something.

Everyone except me.

I had entered an eerie sense of calm ever since Halloween. Perhaps resigning myself to my fate of unrequited love had made me completely numb, or maybe it was something else, but I felt…nothing. I had my lines for the play memorized. I was caught up on all my coursework and homework, and for the first time in five years, I was going into exams with good standing in all my classes. Even the dread I typically felt over having to go home for the holidays was muted and dull. I still hadn't spoken to Archie, and it was obvious my brother had no intention of approaching me first. And despite constantly being surrounded by my friends, I had never felt so alone.

In the days following Halloween, Remus acted like nothing happened. He still talked to me, of course, and we still joked and laughed together, but it was like that almost-moment we had in his dorm never existed. And maybe it hadn't. Maybe I'd been too hopeful, just seeing what I wanted to see. Maybe I was desperate. Maybe I—

"Oi! Earth to Piper!"

A spoon rapped me smartly on the back of my knuckles. I glared at Dorcas, cradling my now-throbbing hand. "What, you batty witch?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're pining again, sweetheart. I was just trying to spare you from any embarrassment before the whole school noticed."

I scowled, but Dorcas was right. I'd been staring longingly down the Gryffindor table where Remus sat with Sirius, Peter (James was suspiciously absent), and the seventh-year girls. My friends and I had decided to have a rare meal alone together, which I guess I should be grateful for. At least I didn't have to sit next to Remus and pretend not to be madly in love with him. Or avoid Sirius's gaze for fear of flashing back to That Night.

I glanced down at my porridge and took a bite that I didn't taste at all. When I looked up again, Dorcas, Emmeline, and Becca were all staring at me sympathetically. (Benjy, JJ, Alfie, and Dom were too engrossed in their discussion of what would happen if the giant squid mated with an actual giant to give me the Pity Stare as well. I decided not to waste my breath on telling them how anatomically impossible that would be, and that they were idiots.)

"Stop looking at me like that," I said. "Let me be miserable in peace."

"Good Godric, Pipes," Becca said, shaking her head. She'd dyed the ends of her black hair blue, and they rippled like waves when she moved. "Here's my advice: either get over Lupin and continue where things left off with Black" —I cringed at the mention of Sirius – I knew I shouldn't have told them about that— "Or stop being a pansy and tell Lupin what's really going on in that airhead of yours."

"Thanks," I said. "Anything else from the Bitch Doctor?" I glanced at Dorcas and Emmeline. "Or the peanut gallery?"

"Yeah," Dorcas said. "Please get laid. A good shag should put an end to all your bitchiness."

I narrowed my eyes. "Who are you calling a bitch, bitch?"

Dorcas smirked. "You, bitch."

"I hate it when you two use that word," Emmeline said, frowning. "It's so…archaic. And demeaning."

I tapped my temple, grinning. "Can't be demeaned by it if you don't care."

"Wait, where are you going?" Dorcas said as I stood from the bench and swung my bag over my shoulder. "Lessons don't start for another half-hour."

I waved her off, only saying "I'll see you later" before exiting the Great Hall.

In truth, I really had no idea where I was going. I'd just been so…restless lately. And I'm sure that if I sat there at breakfast any longer, trying not to make eye contact with Remus, Sirius, or my brother, I'd go absolutely mental.

A walk. That was what I needed. A long, solitary walk around the grounds to clear my head and get some fresh air. Never mind that it was ass-numbingly cold. At least it was better than pining.

I crossed the threshold into the entrance hall, making my way to the great double doors and the courtyard beyond when a sudden blur of color caught my eye. I turned, but I was alone in the hall. My eyes narrowed in on an innocent suit of armor that stood flanking the Great Hall. It didn't move.

My fingers twitched toward my wand. Cold sweat prickled under my arms, on the back of my neck. Were there Slytherins in the shadows, waiting to finish what Rabastan Lestrange had started?

Once again, my gaze found that suit of armor. I stepped closer to it, my hand reaching into my pocket and grabbing hold of my wand. There was something off about the whole thing. There was – there. Near the pedestal it perched on. A glimpse of black that vanished instantly.

I paused. What the—?

"Oh, give me a break, Potter," I snapped, reaching out until my fingers brushed against something silky smooth and light. I ripped off the Invisibility Cloak that covered James, revealing the sheepish boy underneath. The material flowed like water in my hand, and I tried not to marvel at it. How often had I seen the boys using this to pull off their fiendish pranks when we were kids? How often had I disappeared beneath it to help them? "I'm not going to kill you. Stop being so dramatic."

"Really?" He snatched back the cloak from my grip. When I scowled, he stuck out his tongue. "That's not what your face said when I barged in on you and Moony after Halloween."

"What's done is done." I turned away from him. "No use in worrying about what might have happened."

I started for the doors again but his voice held me back. "Piper!"

He grimaced when I looked over my shoulder at him, rubbing his hair so it stood up in every direction.

"I really am sorry," he said. "For interrupting whatever was going on."

The question sat in his eyes, but I waved him off. "Don't worry about it, James. Seriously," I added when he opened his mouth. I pointed to the Great Hall. "Now go snog Lily or something. Don't stand here talking to little ol' me."

He closed his mouth, nodded, and then opened his mouth again. "I know hearing this from me might not be the best thing, but…don't give up on him, Piper. Not yet."

I didn't say anything, feeling like I'd just been punched in the stomach. He went into the Hall, leaving me alone in front of the suit of armor with my jumbled thoughts.

Of course, I didn't want to give up on Remus. Especially not before I'd even told the bloke how I felt about him. But with seemingly everything in the universe stacked against me, I couldn't help being a tad hopeless about it all.

I shook my head. I needed that walk now more than ever, or my head might actually burst and splatter my brains across the walls.

I slipped through the doors and into the courtyard. There was no snow yet, but it was only a matter of time. It was bitingly cold, though. I wrapped my scarf around the lower half of my face and shoved my hands into my armpits to escape the worst of it, but the temperature was exactly what I needed. The cold leeched away every thought I had as I walked slowly through the columns, my feet dragging until I found myself in the secret alcove Remus had shown me.

I looked out at the mountains, swathed in misty grey clouds, and just listened to the wind. It was so peaceful here. So quiet. I never wanted to leave.

"Everlark."

I plunged my hand into my robes and whirled around, my wand ready. Regulus Black held up his hands.

"Relax, Everlark." His grey eyes – darker than Sirius's bright silver – were as cold as the air around us. "I just want to talk."

I kept my wand pointed at him as I walked in a circle, sweeping the perimeter and making sure there weren't any Slytherins hiding nearby. Once I was sure we were alone, I fixed my gaze back on him and curled my lip.

"Did my warning not stay in that thick skull of yours, Reggie?" I said. His jaw clenched at the nickname, but he didn't say anything. "I probably should have made myself clearer. See, when I told you to stay away from Archie, that also extended to me, too." I flicked my wand at him. "So, bye-bye."

His eyes narrowed. "Archie was right – you are annoying."

I hated the way he said my brother's name – so coolly, so casually, like they were actually friends.

"Piss off," I snarled. "I'm not in the mood to deal with Death Eater scum like you today."

"Is that what you think I am?" He had the gall to laugh in my face. "Just some future Death Eater?"

"Well, it can't be because I saw you and my brother talking to Rabastan Lestrange." My voice dripped with sarcasm. "A known Death Eater who tortured me because I'm Muggle-born. The same thing as Archie – yet for some reason my idiot brother thinks he can join up with the Murder Club anyway."

Black laughed again. My grip tightened on my wand.

"Merlin, no wonder why you're so furious," he said, shaking his head. "You've got everything completely wrong."

"What the hell are you raving about?"

When he looked back at me, his eyes glittered with mirth. "Archie sent me to speak to you. To explain. He was afraid you'd act…irrationally if it came from him."

My eye twitched. "And he thought sending you to do his bidding would go any better?"

Black shrugged. "I never said he was the brightest. But I told him I'd try."

"What is there to explain?" I hissed. "You're manipulating my brother into dealing with a group that wants to kill him because of his blood status. And I'll be damned if I let that happen. Over my dead body will Archie become a monster like the rest of your disgusting family."

"That's just it," he said. He took a step closer but rethought his move when I angled my wand. "Think, Everlark. I know you have a brain somewhere in there. What you just said is precisely what you refuse to grasp."

I stared at him. He sighed.

"Why would Archie want to be a Death Eater if he's Muggle-born?" he said.

"That's what I'm asking you," I retorted. "You're making him turn on the people who are just like him—"

And then it hit me.

Turn.

I stared at Black, eyes wide. "Oh."

"Do you understand now, Everlark?" His voice was quiet, his eyes intent on my face.

"You—" I was struggling to form words. "But you— Your family— I…"

"I used to believe in it," he said softly. "The cause. The superiority of pure-bloods." He hesitated. "Our second year, Archie and I got paired together for a Potions project – for the whole year. I was livid. Disgusted. I knew his blood status. I couldn't believe I'd have to spend the rest of the year working with a Mudblood."

I winced at the word. But slowly, my wand began to lower.

"Slughorn refused to let us change partners. I did everything I could think of – I bribed him, flattered him, threatened to write my parents and get them involved. But for whatever reason, he still didn't let me switch. So I got stuck with your brother.

"I learned a lot of things that year. That I was rubbish at Potions, while your brother was brilliant at it. That while I sat there and stewed in my hate, your brother was becoming a far better wizard than I was. And little by little, I learned more about him, too. About your mother, who works so hard to ensure a better life for her children; about your deadbeat father, who couldn't care either way what his children did; about you, and how much your brother looked up to you. How he'd always admired your confidence, your ability to not care what people thought of you."

My throat began to burn as Black continued.

"And I learned about him: what made him laugh, what angered him, what made him happy. And I began to see something I'd never thought before – that maybe Muggle-borns weren't leeches, siphoning off our magic and tainting the wizarding world with their impurity. That they were exactly like me. That they could be better than me." His throat bobbed when he swallowed. "Not just better at magic. But better people, who could see past blood status and just see the character beneath – the worth of someone.

"I still don't know how Archie tolerated me. But he did. He was patient as I struggled with what my parents taught me and what I was experiencing firsthand. He was kind when most people wouldn't give two shits about someone with the last name Black." He almost spat the word. "After that year, my worldview shifted. Became wider. Your brother and I reached a truce, of sorts. A strange friendship." He looked like he was going to say something else, but he just shook his head and sighed. "He learned from me, too. About the Death Eaters and their ideology. He wanted to put a stop to it – fight against it. I told him he was a fool for thinking of standing up to them. But he insisted and asked for my help. And against everything, I agreed to it."

"Why?" The word rasped on its way out of my mouth.

Black stared off at the mountains, his face twisting into an expression of utter disdain. "Any man who has to hide behind the specter of a name to inspire fear and violence shouldn't be the one to lead a revolution."

My wand hung limply by my side now. "You're not one of them."

He shrugged. "To everyone else in my house I am. Their perfect pure-blood prince."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Black only fixed me with a level stare. "Archie hasn't been able to reconcile with himself since Hogsmeade. He blames himself for what Lestrange did to you." He sighed. "He's beyond torn. He can't even bring himself to face you yet for shame. So I told him I'd talk to you – get the shock out of the way so when you both go home for the holidays, he can give you the rest of the story."

My mind was back to a chaotic mess. Regulus Black and my brother were working together against the Dark. Two fifteen-year-old boys had been stupid enough and reckless enough to take on the world by themselves. I just couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that Archie – my immature, self-absorbed git of a brother – was doing something that most wizards twenty years older than him were afraid to do. Worming his way into You-Know-Who's inner circle to spy.

"Go away," I said to Black. His eyebrows ticked up – the only outward sign of surprise he'd show me. "I need to think."

"Take your time. I know it's a lot to process." Those cold iron eyes were back on me, then, piercing my chilled skin. "And I trust you not to speak to anyone about what I just told you." He hesitated. "Especially my brother."

"I won't make you any promises." I held up my hand before he could object. "But for now, yes; this stays between us until I talk to Archie."

He closed his mouth and nodded once. "Then I'll see you 'round, Everlark." He checked to make sure the coast was clear before stepping out of the alcove but turned back to me at the last second with a smirk so reminiscent of Sirius's I was momentarily struck dumb. "I look forward to seeing you in the play, by the way."

And with that, he was gone.

The last Quidditch match of the term before the holiday was between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and the entire school was simmering with anticipation when the day dawned grey and cold, but clear – perfect flying conditions, according to James.

Remus and Peter left the Great Hall with James and Sirius after breakfast, the latter two Marauders receiving thunderous applause and catcalls from the Gryffindors as they headed to the Quidditch Pitch.

"The Ravenclaws are dead," James said as they made their way across the grounds. "If they aren't splattered with their own blood and crying in the mud after this match, then what's the point of winning?"

"The Quidditch Cup?" Sirius raised a brow at James. "I mean, that's literally what we get if we win. You've known this for a while now."

James waved him off. "Forget the damned Cup. What about everlasting glory? Our names going down as Hogwarts Quidditch legends for eternity?"

Sirius shared a glance with Remus and Peter. "Right. Which we get by…winning the Cup."

The other three snickered as James got into it with Sirius. Sirius caught Remus's gaze and rolled his eyes, grinning, and Remus smiled back, trying not to feel like it was too forced.

Since Halloween, Remus had been at quite a loss when it came to Sirius. They were still brothers, of course – nothing could ever change that – but knowing that Sirius and Piper had done…well, whatever they'd done together – kept prodding him. Neither of them had given him much details about the encounter (something he was equally grateful and frustrated about) but just the knowledge of it made his insides twist painfully.

He knew he was a bloody idiot. Everything had aligned so perfectly the day after Halloween. Having Piper there in his dorm, wearing his clothes, flipping through their old memories together – it'd been the opportune moment to confess everything. How he'd felt about her when they were kids; how it'd been to not have her in his life for the past five years; how it was now to have her back and to realize that his feelings had never gone away, that they'd just grown stronger, more intense, until the point where it felt like he couldn't breathe.

And James had gone and ruined it all.

Remus couldn't help glaring at the back of his friend's skull as they approached the Quidditch Pitch. It wasn't as if James had destroyed Remus and Piper's friendship, but when he thought about that moment when he'd almost confessed it all to her, it was hard not to be upset with James.

They reached the pitch, and James and Sirius peeled off, heading for the changing rooms. Remus and Peter wished them luck as they walked up the stands, taking their usual seats at the top, where the view was the best.

The stands started to fill as more and more students finished breakfast and the start of the match crept closer. Remus cast a simple heating spell that kept Peter's teeth from chattering, and the blond boy shot him a grateful look just as Lily, Mary, Marlene, and Alice showed up, with Piper and all her friends in tow.

Remus's heart skipped a beat when he saw Piper climbing the stands toward him. Her hair was loose that day, flowing around her shoulders in graceful curls, and her face was flushed pink from the cold, making her even more unfairly pretty.

"Hey." She smiled when she reached them.

Peter waved unenthusiastically, but Remus smiled back. "Hey." He patted the space next to him. "Best seats in the house right here if you want in."

"Don't mind if I do." She sat and sighed in bliss when his heating spell hit her. "That feels nice."

"Ah, yes," Becca said as she took the seat on Piper's other side. "We can finally practice burning in Hell together, Pipes."

Piper laughed, and the sound made Remus's bones ache.

"Ready for the match?" she asked him when Becca turned around to talk to Benjy Fenwick and the other sixth-year boys. "Emmeline was freaking out earlier, but I told her not to sweat it."

He nodded. "It's gonna be a tough one. Ravenclaw put a solid team together this year."

She quirked her lips, her eyes scanning the filling stands. He followed her gaze out of curiosity and saw her staring intently at her brother, who sat with his friends a few rows down from them.

"We'll see," was all she said, and Remus had the sudden feeling that she wasn't referring to just the match.

The match was short and brutal.

Remus lost track of how many fouls were called after the tenth one, when one of Ravenclaw's Chasers was allowed a penalty shot after Sirius took a swipe at them in a moment of anger for blocking his Bludger that he'd sent hurtling toward a Ravenclaw Beater.

The field was a blur of scarlet and blue, the players darting and soaring at dizzying paces that made Remus's head swim just watching them. An hour in, Ravenclaw was up by fifty points – two-ten to one-sixty – and the aggression was only getting worse. Remus had never seen such rage from a Quidditch match before.

But the fury radiating from the pitch was nothing compared to when Bertram Aubrey – Ravenclaw's Seeker – caught the Snitch and secured Ravenclaw's victory. Remus thought his skin was going to melt from his bones as the Gryffindors swarmed the field to support their team and offer them words of encouragement, their bitter rage was so palpable.

He was aware of Piper walking beside him as they shoved their way through the crowd to reach James, Sirius, Emmeline, and the rest of the Gryffindor team. James's face was red from exertion and anger while Sirius stood fuming next to him, stoic and silent.

As Piper embraced an upset Emmeline, Remus clapped James and Sirius on their shoulders. "Better luck next time, lads. You both played great, though."

Sirius grunted. "Tell that to Bighead Aubrey."

Indeed, Bertram Aubrey and the rest of the Ravenclaws stood nearby, and Remus narrowed his eyes as Aubrey crowed "Fuck Gryffindor!"

The Ravenclaws took up the chant, shouting "Fuck Gryffindor!"

James scowled. "I'm going to jinx those sorry bastards if they don't shut it."

But Remus was still staring at Aubrey, his vision clouding with crimson as the Ravenclaw bolstered the vulgar chant, his face split into a wide, smug grin. Remus wondered if he'd looked like that after what he'd done to Piper in the library last year – if he'd even thought about what he'd done to her at all.

He didn't remember what happened next. One moment, he was seeing nothing but red, and the next, Aubrey was on his knees, clutching his nose as it spurted blood, and Remus was staggering back, his right hand smarting.

Everything after was absolute chaos. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors started brawling right there on the field, everyone confused as to who had thrown the first punch, but no one willing to let it slide.

Remus was shoved away from the inner circle as pandemonium erupted. The professors were descending on the pitch with shouts and cries while Madam Hooch's whistle blew in short, frantic bursts. But the fight raged on, turning into a suffocating pit of flailing fists and foul curses, until he was suddenly released and fell back onto the grass, his hand screaming in pain when he threw it out to catch himself.

Piper stood over him, her lips white and quivering in rage. He realized that she'd been beside him the whole time and had seen everything, and that she was the one who'd removed him from the riot behind them.

Wordlessly, she yanked him to his feet and marched him to the now-empty stands. The students who'd been there before had all either fled the pitch when the fight started or rushed to join in, which left them alone as she shoved him onto the bench.

When she still didn't say anything – instead choosing to pace back and forth angrily – he looked down at his hand and winced at the bruises already blooming across his knuckles. He prodded at his middle knuckle and hissed at the pain that shot up his arm. He must've broken it on Aubrey's nose, hitting bone against bone like that.

"Let me see it."

He looked up. Piper's eyes were on his mangled hand. She held out her own expectantly, and, deciding it best not to argue with her right then, he put his hand in hers as she drew her wand.

"Episkey," she muttered.

His knuckle groaned back into place. He swore loudly at the pain, but it quickly faded to a dull throb. He rubbed at his newly-healed knuckles. "Thanks."

"What the fuck did you hit Aubrey for?" she burst out.

"He was being a gloating prick," he retorted. "Git was asking for it, in my opinion—"

"Don't," she said, her eyes flashing. "Don't pretend like that was the only reason why you did it, Remus. I've seen the way you stare at him when you think I'm not looking – like you want to pulverize him."

"I'm not going to apologize." Remus gritted his teeth. "After what he did to you, a punch on the nose is a light sentence—"

"I don't need you to get involved!" she snapped.

"I don't care!" he shouted back.

Both he and Piper blinked, stunned. When was the last time he'd raised his voice like that? Probably after Sirius had pulled that prank on Snape last year, trying to convince the Slytherin to go down the Whomping Willow's tunnel while Remus had been transformed… He shook his head. It didn't matter.

She breathed deeply through her nose, her nostrils flaring. "Don't ever do something as idiotic as that again," she said. Her tone was sharp and clipped, but the angry bite she'd had before was gone.

He smiled weakly. "No promises."

Her lips twitched – and then she burst into tears.

She collapsed before him, sobbing, and took his injured hand into both of her own. She cradled it like it was a fragile baby bird as Remus watched, utterly confused and shocked. She bent her head over their hands and wept, her tears falling onto his skin and into his lap.

"Piper," he said, finding his voice again. Not knowing what else to do, he began stroking her hair in an attempt to comfort her. She cried harder, pressing her face into his lap, but he didn't stop pulling his fingers through her dark curls. "Piper, hey. It's all right."

"I don't want you to hurt because of me," she sobbed. Her voice was muffled by his legs and he had to bend down to hear her better. "I don't w-want anyone to hurt because of me!"

"Piper, no," he murmured. "No, it's not that. You did nothing to hurt me. I was the idiot – I did this myself. Not you."

When she didn't look up, he used his other hand to grab her chin and tilt her head until she met his gaze. Her eyes were teary and so vividly blue it momentarily took his breath away. Tears clung to her lashes and cheeks, sparkling against her freckles, and if she hadn't looked so devastated, he might have kissed her right there.

"I want you to listen to me, Piper," he said. He was hyperaware of her face resting in his hand, and his other still clasped between hers. "You can never do anything to hurt me. Do you understand that?"

"But—"

"No." He gripped her chin tighter. "Nothing. You can never hurt me. I promise."

She dropped her head again, and his heart nearly stopped when she kissed his injured hand, right on the knuckle she'd just healed.

"I'm sorry," she said, her warm breath fanning across his skin. She huffed a laugh. "That was pretty dramatic of me."

"You're fine," he said and meant it. He dragged his fingers through her hair again, and he felt her smile against his knuckles. His insides twisted painfully, especially as he became aware of their intimate position and what it might look like to outsiders: she on her knees before him, her head bent over his lap.

Unbidden, the image came to him. How he wished she wasn't crying, terrified of hurting him like he was afraid of hurting her; but instead what it would be like to have his fingers knotted in her curls, her mouth wrapped around his—

He forced the thought away as he felt himself harden, and he prayed to Merlin that she hadn't noticed as she continued messing with his hand, her head splayed on his thighs and his fingers drifting lazily through her hair.

Dead puppies, he thought frantically to quell the rising heat in him that was occurring mere inches from Piper's face. Mangled kittens. Peter naked.

Her gaze slid to his face. Seeing her so close to him, her face so open and innocent and beautiful, had the beast inside him roaring for release. Desire crept up his throat and down his body, making every part of him tense and hot.

He couldn't do this. There was no way he could manage to get a word out without breaking down right there. Fuck, he had to get away—

He bolted upright, startling her. He opened his mouth – to say what, he had no idea – but fortunately, Madam Hooch's shout cut across the madness on the field just then.

"EVERYBODY OFF THE FIELD NOW! ONE HUNDRED POINTS FROM EVERY HOUSE! BACK TO YOUR COMMON ROOMS THIS INSTANT!"

"Oh, shit," Piper said, leaping to her feet. She grabbed Remus's wrist. "Let's go before she comes over here and sees your hand."

"Good idea." He sprinted after her as they dashed for the castle, Madam Hooch's shrieks following them all the way there.

Is this even enjoyable anymore in the year 2023? I feel like so many things have changed since I first posted this chapter in 2018 or so. Just curious.

Thanks for reading! Until next time!