Chapter 1: Unspoken Shadows
The Great Hall buzzed with the usual clatter of breakfast—forks scraping against plates, owls swooping in with morning letters, and students chattering about everything from exams to summer plans. Yet, at the Gryffindor table, James and Sirius sat unusually subdued.
James idly poked at his eggs, his usual appetite absent. Across from him, Sirius tore into a piece of toast with exaggerated enthusiasm, as though trying to mask the tension simmering between them. If anyone noticed their silence, no one mentioned it.
"Prongs, pass the marmalade," Sirius said, his voice unnaturally bright.
James handed it over without a word, staring intently at his goblet of pumpkin juice. His mind churned with images he couldn't escape—Snape's pale, strained face; the glow of the blood pact; the weight of last night's revelations. He shook his head, trying to clear it.
"You've been staring at that juice long enough to make it curdle," Sirius remarked, smirking. "What's wrong, mate? Thinking about asking it to the end-of-term ball?"
James snorted despite himself, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. "Just tired, that's all."
Sirius raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, he leaned back, scanning the room with a casual air that didn't fool James for a second. His gaze landed on Mary Macdonald as she slid into a seat across from them, her expression unreadable.
"Morning, lads," she said, biting into a roll. "You hear the latest?"
James tensed, and Sirius's smirk faltered. "What's that?"
"Snape," Mary said, lowering her voice. "Apparently, he didn't show up to class this morning. Didn't come back to the dorms last night, either. Slughorn's asking around—seems he's worried."
James nearly dropped his goblet, but Sirius shrugged. "Maybe he finally brewed himself out of existence. Wouldn't be surprised, honestly."
Mary frowned, her gaze darting between them. "Right. And here I thought you two would be the first ones celebrating if he disappeared."
Sirius laughed, though it sounded hollow. "Too early in the day for celebrations."
James forced a grin, but his stomach churned. Across the hall, he spotted Lily sitting with her friends, oblivious to the weight pressing down on them. He felt a surge of frustration—how could she sit there so calmly, so carefree, when everything had changed?
Later that day, James and Sirius found Lily in the Gryffindor common room. She sat in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, her Potions textbook open on her lap. Her red hair caught the firelight, making her look almost serene, though James and Sirius knew better.
"Lily," James said as he approached. His tone was careful but firm, though his posture betrayed his tension.
She looked up, surprised but unbothered. "Potter. Black. What's this about?"
Sirius didn't waste time. "The blood pact," he said, his voice sharp.
Lily frowned, tilting her head. "The what?"
James hesitated, glancing at Sirius, who stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "The one you made with Snape."
For a moment, Lily simply stared at him, her expression blank. Then she laughed—a bright, casual sound that grated against James's nerves. "Oh, that! You're joking, right?"
"Does it look like we're joking?" Sirius snapped, his voice icy.
Lily shook her head, smiling faintly. "Honestly, I'd forgotten all about that. It was just some silly thing we did when we were kids. We saw a couple of classmates in primary school do it with sewing needles—said it would make us best friends forever or something."
James clenched his fists, frustration bubbling to the surface. "It wasn't just a game, Lily. You used blood. A single drop is enough to bind magic. You might not have meant it, but it was real. And now Snape's gone because of it."
Her smile faltered, but only for a moment. "Gone? That's ridiculous. Look, I'm sure Snape's fine. Maybe he's just...off sulking somewhere."
Sirius's laugh was short and bitter. "Sulking? Lily, he's dead."
Her eyes widened briefly, then narrowed as she shook her head again. "You're being dramatic, as always. Snape's fine—he'll turn up, I'm sure."
James stepped closer, his voice lower now. "He won't. We saw what happened. The pact—it demanded his life, Lily."
She waved a hand dismissively, leaning back in her chair. "Honestly, Potter, do you expect me to believe that? A silly promise I made when I was nine magically kills someone years later? Please."
Sirius's patience snapped, and he leaned forward, his gaze cold. "Fine. Keep brushing it off. But don't come crying to us when magic catches up with you."
"Sirius," James muttered, but his friend was already turning away, his shoulders tense with barely contained anger.
"Lily," James began, his voice softer. "Just...don't ignore this, okay? You might think it's nothing, but it's not. Trust me."
She gave him a long look before nodding curtly. "Sure, Potter. I'll think about it."
Sirius threw up his hands dramatically as he walked off, muttering, "Can't wait to see this bubble burst."
James sighed, muttering something under his breath as he followed Sirius. For a moment, the common room was quiet again, save for the crackle of the fire.
Lily sat back, shaking her head with a faint smile. "Boys and their drama," she said to herself, reaching for her textbook again. Though she felt a faint twinge of unease in their words, she dismissed it quickly.
There were far more pleasant things to think about.