A/N: This has been a long time coming. I was drawn into Harry Potter fanfiction by the questions left unanswered, and the biggest one of all is the story of James and Lily.
This story lives in the same universe, so to speak, as Wrath of Merlin and Auror Commander. Neither is not a prerequisite, but I can certainly recommend them. If you're new to my work, I hope you take the time to give them a read too.
Onto James and Lily. Some of the best fanfics do a stellar job of exploring the relationship between two brilliant characters. I want to offer my own take. Those familiar with my writing know that I don't pull punches and I don't cater to the lowest common denominator. Expect a story as much about Voldemort's rise to power and the Order of the Phoenix as it is about James and Lily going on Hogsmeade dates.
PHOENIX RISING
a James & Lily story
—
I. Immortality
"And it's a human need to be told stories.
The more we're governed by idiots and have no control over our destinies,
the more we need to tell stories to each other about who we are,
why we are, where we come from, and what might be possible."
– Alan Rickman
JAMES POTTER is off to Hogwarts.
The Daily Prophet, Sept. 1st, 1971
They are amongst the most esteemed pure-blood families in the world. With influence all over the wizarding world, the largest non-Goblin shareholders in Gringotts Bank, and the owners of the British and Irish Quidditch League team, the Montrose Magpies, and two stadiums, one can see why the Potters are wizarding royalty.
And that's only scratching the surface. No less than five Potters currently serve on the Wizengamot, and three top Ministry departments, (Magical Law and Enforcement, The Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Magical Trade) are practically run by the extended family. The Potters have also been responsible for the introduction of landmark legislation protecting the rights of Muggle-borns and several magical creatures in the last decade alone. In the last century, three Ministers for Magic have had direct ties to the Potters.
With ancestry dating back to the Peverells, the Potters are one of the oldest and most-respected names in Wizarding Britain. Feared by their opponents, revered by their friends, and famed for the parties and functions they host, the Potters bring an entire new meaning to the phrase 'Very Important Wizard.'
And now attention turns to their youngest - only child and heir - James. Today he boards the Hogwarts Express to Scotland. With every single Potter name on record a member of Gryffindor, it isn't hard to guess where he'll be living for the next seven years. Of course, James has to live up to his family's challenging reputation. In the last two generations of former Hogwarts students, three Head Boys, two Head Girls, and no less than eleven prefects are connected to the Potter name.
Of course, one would be lucky to be James Potter. Despite the expectations of greatness heaped upon him, doors will open for the youngest Potter into the Ministry, Gringotts, and the international Quidditch scene, doors usually closed to most but the very best.
Only time will tell, but surely, James Potter is taking his first steps on the path to immortality.
He had read it countless times, of course, and could recite it word for word, but James Potter still enjoyed looking back at the article - one he'd neatly torn from the society pages - on occasion. It reminded him of who he was, of the expectations heaped upon him, and of the prominence his family possessed.
Prominence that could be dangerous.
Just last week, his uncle had been assaulted just off Diagon Alley. It wasn't serious, but an attack on one Potter was seen as an attack on all.
James folded up the article, fingers running along the neat creases in the paper. He carefully tucked it into the drawer by his bed, then paused. A small furrow appeared in his brow as he pulled out a slightly worn photo from the drawer.
He sat back on his bed and studied the picture. It was at a Gryffindor party. Himself, his best friend Sirius, Remus was talking animatedly to an obscured face in the background, Marlene, and a redhead girl, who, as if detecting his eyes on her, turned and glared at him, green eyes as hard as the emeralds to which he likened them.
Those eyes.
It was almost a pity that they belonged to Lily Evans, a girl who famously despised him, and turned down his advances at every turn, usually in a public nature.
He couldn't help that he thought she was stunningly beautiful, even in pyjamas with her hair tied back into an unruly knot...Merlin, her hair. It seemed fitting that a girl like Lily should have hair that reflected her fiery temperament, something James was all too familiar with.
She had more heart than some of the most devout Gryffindors, and a quiet dignity that exuded from her, in sharp contrast to some of the vapid blondes who flitted through James' social circle. On top of that was a wit and intellect that made Ravenclaws weep, and Professor Flitwick rue the day the Sorting Hat placed her in Gryffindor.
She was one hell of a witch.
But she wanted nothing to do with him. He couldn't see why not. He was James Potter.
A thought came to him, and he cracked a rueful smirk. That was exactly why she didn't want anything to do with him - because he was James Potter.
"Prongs!" Sirius called from outside the dormitory.
"Yeah?" James answered.
"You in there with some bird?"
"Nah mate."
Sirius sauntered in, an amused expression formed on his face. "Shame, really."
James raised an eyebrow.
"Really?"
Sirius stood on his bed and looked down at James, spreading his hands.
"Just concerned for you, Prongs."
James shot him a sceptical look as Sirius continued.
"I mean, when was the last time you had a good shag? A month? Two?"
James answered with his middle finger, which went ignored by Sirius
"Hell, James, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd forgotten how–"
"I have not–"
"Wormtail's probably getting more action than you!"
James gave a derisive snort.
"Is Peter getting some?"
Remus Lupin strode into the dormitory with a puzzled expression.
"Moony!" Sirius greeted. "Not only Peter, but I swear there must be third years who are having more–"
"Enough!" Remus said, raising a hand. "Merlin, Sirius, I don't need to hear any more."
"About Peter or the third years?" Sirius replied.
"I don't want to hear anything about either of them! Anyway, it's nearly dinner. We'd best be going," Remus suggested.
"Alright mate. Come along, Prongs!" Sirius jumped off his bed and the three headed down to dinner.
At the Gryffindor table, James did a quick scan of its occupants. No Lily, but Marlene McKinnon as there. He lead Sirius and James to where she was seated.
"Hey McKinnon," he greeted, sitting down.
"Oh, hey," she replied, looking up. Both Marley and James, along with Sirius, played on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team.
James grinned as the food appeared in front of them.
"Where's Evans?" he asked, loading up his plate.
Marlene shrugged. "Said she'd meet me here."
James nodded in acknowledgement.
"Planning on asking her to Hogsmeade?"
Sirius and Remus sniggered.
"Yeah, so they can take bets on whether I get shouted at, hexed, end up in the hospital wing…"
"Odds on her saying yes to him are at a million to one," Sirius interjected.
"Bit too high for me, Sirius."
"Yeah, but you could always start off small - like what hex Lily'll use to say no this time."
They were interrupted by a new voice at the table.
"Hey Marley!"
James' eyes flew to the newcomer, and met the same pair of emerald eyes he'd been thinking about not ten minutes ago.
"Oh...Potter."
His hand went immediately to his hair.
James grinned.
"Evans."
She rolled her eyes and sat down. "So what'll it be today, Potter? The world is ending and the only way to save it is to copulate?"
"No, but since when did we need a reason?" he quipped.
"Potter, I may have said this before, but as I worry about how the things I say filter through the sorry excuse you have for a brain, I'll say it again: No, and not ever."
"You worry about me? Evans, you do care!" he replied.
"Yes, and I'm just playing hard to get," she said, picking up her plate, "Sorry Marley, I'm going to eat with the Ravenclaws."
"Wait, I'll join you."
Both girls left the table, Marlene turning and shooting a look back at her Quidditch Captain. The three Gryffindor boys were silent for a moment, then:
"Fuck." Sirius swore.
"What?" asked James
"I remember where Peter is."
"Where is he?"
"He was sorting out that prank we where playing on the Ravenclaws…"
"…tonight," Remus finished for him.
James looked over at the Ravenclaw table, where Lily had just taken her seat.
"Oh fuck."
As if on cue, all the pumpkin juice pitchers on the Ravenclaw table exploded, sending sticky liquid and glass flying in every direction.
As the hall collectively burst into noisy laughter and cheering, Lily stood and turned around, dripping wet with shards of glass through her hair, and glared daggers at James.
"POTTER!"
James cringed and swore again as she strode over.
"Detention or points off, Potter?"
"It wasn't even me who…" he began, his temper flaring, before giving a resigned sigh. He wasn't getting out of this one. "Fine, detention."
She nodded. "Tomorrow night. I'll let Filch know."
James groaned as she sauntered off. Sirius turned his head and watched her leave, eyes alight.
"Merlin, that girl has a nice arse…"
"Prat."
"She does though!"
"I've noticed."
"I've noticed you noticing."
"Why am I mates with you?"
"I'm loveable, cuddly, and I can play fetch," Sirius replied dryly.
James shot him a filthy look.
"Fuck you're an idiot, Sirius."
Where had it all gone wrong with Lily Evans?
That was easy.
Fifth year.
They'd never been on great terms - something brought about by the fact that they seemed to bring out the worst in each other - but James had never felt that their relationship was beyond repair.
Until the incident by the lake.
The memory flashed vividly through his mind now - Snape, an unforgivable slur, a pair of underpants, and the hatred in Lily's eyes.
He had hoped that the summer holidays would have helped lessen her displeasure, but now, halfway through sixth year, nothing had changed.
Like he didn't have enough on his plate already. The pre-NEWT classes he was taking were a serious step up from his OWLs - he'd already accepted that avoiding study altogether was out of the question this year - and combined with his Quidditch duties, James was finding he had an alarming lack of free time.
He gave a sigh of exasperation, settling back in his favourite armchair by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Still, things could be worse. He was not oblivious to the fact that he was a prince amongst the Hogwarts students - known by all, admired for his magical skill and prowess on the Quidditch pitch - there was even a begrudging respect from a number of the Slytherins.
Hell, even the armchair he was sitting in was testament to James' exalted position. He'd won it off a seventh year when he was only in his second, betting that he could supply more Butterbeer to a Gryffindor party than the senior student.
Already fast friends with his dorm mates, James had enlisted their help and together, they'd pulled off the feat. Sirius had suggested they call themselves 'the Marauders' - and so the legend was born.
James was pulled from his reminiscing by the piercing blue eyes of one Laura Hopworth. He met them and winked. She replied with a delicious smirk, before making her way over to him. She bent close to him and purred into his ear.
"I hear you've been naughty."
Inwardly, he laughed at the absurdity of her words. But to those in the room, his cool demeanour did not slip. He leaned close to her, her perfume flooding his senses.
"I should be punished, yeah?" he replied.
"Fourth floor?"
"Ten o'clock."
"See you later, James," she replied, louder, so that others could hear, before sauntering off.
James had no illusions about Laura Hopworth. She was vain and superficial, but no teenage boy was going to turn her down. If she was satisfied, she made sure people knew about it. And James had a reputation to uphold.
"Hell, Prongs, she's begging for it," Sirius remarked, sitting up from the couch next to him.
Remus made a small noise of distaste at Sirius' remark. Both had stayed quiet during the exchange with Laura.
"Remus, who's patrolling tonight?" James asked.
"Jones and Paisley."
James grinned. A couple of Galleons each, and both Prefects would keep their silence, and skip the supplies closet on the fourth floor.
Remus' appointment as a Prefect had not dampened the Marauders talent for breaking the rules. It had simply emboldened them. The Gryffindor boys had become brazen in their adventures, where before they had relied purely on stealth.
It was, James reflected, a simple matter of knowing who to pay off and how. Everyone had a price, and whether it was money, a favour, or alcohol, there was little he couldn't or wouldn't deliver.
Laura gave a soft moan as he worked his fingers inside her. The wetness between her legs was not unfamiliar territory to him. Athleticism on a broomstick was enough to get noticed and impress, but the real value to the James Potter legend came from what girls talked about in their bathrooms and dorms. Her mouth mashed against his as she worked her hand underneath his shirt, deftly undoing his belt then slipping her hand into his trousers.
Sometime later, James made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, protected by Cloak and Map. The meaningless shag had brightened his mood, and more than made up for the unpleasantness that would be his detention the next day. And perhaps Sirius would stop giving him grief about the Muggle girl he'd met over the summer.
Nevertheless, there was a hollow feeling he couldn't shake. There was an edge to his satisfaction that he couldn't place. But it didn't do well to dwell on something he couldn't name, and he dismissed it from his mind.
The next morning, James pinned up a Quidditch notice in the Common Room. The thought of going flying in the evening crossed his mind, before he remembered he had that bloody detention. Swearing under his breath, he resolved to book the pitch the following night.
"What's that on the noticeboard?"
The voice made him turn sharply. Of course, it was her.
Lily Evans stood in front of him, a hand resting casually on the satchel slung over her shoulder, well-worn from years of carrying an impressive stack of books wherever it went. Striking green eyes glared at him accusingly, and she looked like she'd been awake for hours already.
Suddenly self-conscious about the fact he'd rolled out of bed five minutes ago, he ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to shape it into something that didn't look like Hagrid's beard.
"Alright, Evans?"
"The noticeboard, Potter," she replied pointedly.
"Quidditch. I need a new Chaser for the practice team. Surely that's not illegal?"
"If only."
He smirked.
"But you wouldn't be able to admire my flying nearly as often if it was."
"You're on the team? Why, I had no idea," she retorted, a sarcastic edge in her voice.
She was quick, he'd give her that.
James waved her retort away with another smirk, before crossing to the Fat Lady's portrait.
"See you later, Evans."
Lily watched the portrait swing shut, before double-checking the noticeboard. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she rarely took Potter at his word, and after that notice he'd put up in fourth year, who could blame her for being vigilant?
She pushed the sour memory from her mind. A chance meeting with Potter would not ruin her day. Even if she had four classes with him, including Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts - two classes in which he naturally excelled and was insufferable about the fact.
Making her way down to breakfast, Lily took her usual spot at the Gryffindor table, greeting Marley.
"Good morning!"
Marlene groaned through her piece of toast, looking as dishevelled as Potter.
"Wha' time did you ge' up?" she asked through a mouthful of toast.
"Six."
"Six!"
"I wanted to get some extra reading done before Charms."
"You're mental," she replied between chews.
Lily opened her mouth to reply when a pitcher of Pumpkin Juice and a goblet appeared in mid-air in front of her. The pitcher poured half its contents into the goblet before vanishing, and then the goblet set itself down in front of the redhead.
"You know Lily, I think James is trying to get your attention," Marlene commented with a grin.
Lily gave her friend a flat look. "You don't say."
James finished the last of the silverware, and slid it neatly into place. A glance at his watch let him know that it was at least eleven, but he didn't mind, instead, he was simply thankful he'd finished before midnight.
"Always a pleasure, Argus," James smirked, ignoring the caretaker's retort as he left the trophy room. He'd heard it all before.
James slowly began the walk back to Gryffindor tower. He knew it was past curfew, but he wouldn't get in trouble for returning from a detention.
And it was peaceful in the empty hallways, with evenly spaced torches and shards of moonlight poking through the glass windows providing dim illumination.
He paused in front of a portrait of a long-dead family member. One of the first Potters to go to Hogwarts. The occupant of the portrait was sleeping, unaware of his descendant standing below him.
James stared at the portrait a moment longer, and then moved on as he heard two voices nearby. Probably Prefects.
He paused again at the end of a corridor, waiting for a particularly slow set of stairs to swing his way.
The voices had caught up.
"Stop!"
James sighed and turned around, his solitude broken.
Remus...and Evans. He smirked.
"Evening, Moony. Evans."
"Potter, do you know what curfew means?" Lily asked.
"Haven't a clue," he replied urbanely.
The redhead girl ignored his remark. "Why are you out?"
"Simply returning from your detention," he said, spreading his hands wide. "Filch had me on the other side of the school."
"Detention would've finished two hours ago," she said, suspicion in her face.
"You've never had a detention, have you, Evans?"
"No," she said, puzzled by his question.
"Then you've certainly never had a detention with Filch."
"And?"
"A good detention with Filch is one where he lets you go before midnight," Remus explained.
"But detention's only meant to last until half nine!"
"Filch can't read a clock," James replied dryly.
"Oh! Um, I'll talk to McGonagall about it," Lily offered.
"Don't bother, Evans. See you later, Moony."
The jet-black haired boy sauntered off.
Lily and Remus watched him disappear into the darkness.
"If he takes one for the house, Lily, at least book him in with Hagrid next time," advised Remus.
"Serves him right for pranking the Ravenclaws."
Remus sighed. "Lily, I was in on the prank. So were Peter and Sirius. You can't put all your blame on James. And not one of us expected you to be sitting at the Ravenclaw table."
"Yeah, I guess." She couldn't argue with Remus' logic. Besides, James had served his due.
They continued walking, before she broke the silence.
"How'd you do it?"
Remus grinned.
"Trade secret."
"Aw, can't let me in on a Marauders scheme?" she teased.
"It was fairly basic. I'm sure you can guess."
"Blasting Charm?" Lily asked.
Remus made a face.
"No, too obvious. And too clumsy. You're better than that. A potion," she said, before amending - "a pressurised potion."
"Very good," Remus affirmed.
"But the real question is -" Lily continued.
"- how did we get in in the pumpkin juice?" Remus interjected.
"Yeah."
Remus gave a grin.
"Now that is a secret."
"Joshua Fenwick wants Butterbeer and Firewhiskey for a Hufflepuff party," said Peter, reading a scrawled message from a tawny owl that had flown to their dormitory.
It was the following evening, and the four Marauders were relaxing in their dorm.
"We're low on Firewhiskey. Write back and tell him he'll have to stick with the rum," said Sirius.
"He won't want to pay the same," Peter replied.
"We'll give him an extra bottle. Tell him it's for being a loyal customer," James added, looking over from his bed, where he was lazily tossing a Snitch from one hand to the other.
"I don't see how he can be anything but loyal. We're the only ones trafficking in the school," said Remus.
"It's a gesture of good faith. We can always get extra over the weekend," James said. "Agreed?"
"Aye," Sirius replied.
"Agreed," Remus said.
Peter gave a nod, and after scribbling a reply, sent the owl on its way.
To think that their transformations had been so difficult only a year ago. Now, they transformed with ease.
It had become all too easy. The rat would scurry beneath the thrashing branches of the Whomping Willow, to freeze the enchanted tree, and James and Sirius - hidden from all by the Invisibility Cloak - would duck into the hidden tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, to where Albus Dumbledore hid one of his many secrets: a student gifted with a terrible power.
So they found themselves. The stag cantered through the Forbidden Forest, with the rat clinging to its back, as the great black dog roamed up ahead, accompanied by a werewolf scavenging through the undergrowth.
The brilliant light of the full moon filtered through the high canopy of trees as the peculiar group went about their nighttime adventure.
Two days had passed since the full moon. Remus had left the Hospital Wing that morning, and the Marauders had taken to the rooftop of Gryffindor Tower as the night grew dark.
Gentle Cushioning and Sticking Charms made the rooftop hospitable, and their black robes blended them into the slate tiles. The rooftop visits had become something of a custom following a full moon outing, and tonight was no different.
Between them they passed a cigar, each lost to their own contemplations. The night was dark, but not so much that the lake and the mountains around the castle did not form an impressive vista.
Adventure, violence, sex, and alcohol. They were insatiable hungers for the teenage boys, and bonded the four like brothers. Their reckless pursuit of each made them who they were: the Marauders.
But it was not lost upon each of them, as they sat there, that one day soon these nights would come to an end.
"I'll miss this, once we leave," said Sirius, breaking the silence after a fashion.
"We can always come back," Peter replied.
"We've got the rest of our lives mate," James added.
They lapsed into silence again, reassured by James' words.
"What do you think, Moony?" asked Sirius, after a puff on the cigar.
"I'll still expect you lot at the Shrieking Shack when I'm ninety," the werewolf offered with a smirk.
A/N: And that's the first chapter. Please take a moment to let me know what you think.
