How the Other Half Lives

Chapter 2 - At the Common Room Window

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story was originally written during the fall of 2002, before the release of OotP. For that reason, certain characterizations aren't consistent with new information about the MWPP generation from that book.

The Dark Is Rising is an excellent novel by Susan Cooper. The snow in this story is a homage to Cooper's novel, which is also set during the Christmas season.

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Only three days remained before Christmas. In the solitude of the sixth-year boys dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, James carefully wrapped his presents for his friends. A book for Remus, chocolate for Peter, a fine sneakoscope for Sirius, a silk shawl for his mother, and an antique chess set for his father. He brought his gifts to the owlery, where he entrusted them to his eagle owl Hamlet, who seemed rather put out by the sheer number of things he was expected to deliver.

James knew that he could expect a rather grand gift from his Hogwarts friends. He had returned from a prefects' meeting one night before the holidays to find his three best friends plotting in the common room. From their guilty faces and the few words that he caught--"James", "gift", and "together"--he knew something was up. If it had only been from Sirius, he would have assumed it was Quidditch-related, but he knew that Remus possessed a quirky streak of creativity that could surprise him.

Last year it had been Sirius who received a special gift from his friends. His parents had been killed in mid-November, and he'd been pale and withdrawn for the rest of the fall term. There had been nothing they could do to draw him out of his misery. He had only mastered the animagus transformation two weeks before the attack, but it entirely failed to amuse him. He played Quidditch half-heartedly at best, and Gryffindor had almost lost a key game against Ravenclaw due to his distraction. He had spent an inordinate amount of time simply staring into to space, not talking, not listening, not even plotting pranks against Snape. Such depression was pitiable to witness in anyone, but in someone like Sirius, the most exuberant and cheerful boy in all Gryffindor, it was heart-rending.

Sirius had come to the Potter estate, Fossey Park, for the holidays that year, and James liked to think his friend's healing had begun there, on Christmas Day. Almost every Gryffindor--even Lily, now that James thought of it--had sent something for Sirius--a note, a card, Chocolate Frogs, tricks from Zonko's. Remus, James, and Peter had pooled their resources to get tickets to the English League Quidditch finals. And Sirius, who was not known for being sentimental or sensitive, had burst into tears at the gesture.

Now as James walked back from the owlery, he wondered who would be sending gifts to Lily Evans.

Her parents were gone. Everyone knew her sister was non-magic and rather unpleasant. Though she was well-liked by other Gryffindors, none of them were particularly close to her. She usually worked with Celia Bryce in Potions, but Celia was more interested in her Ravenclaw boyfriend than her Muggle-born Potions partner.

Well, then, he would have to give her a present.

Anonymously, of course. Otherwise she might suspect his pity, and that would never do. Lily might be quiet, but she was still proud. But what could he give her? Even after having dated Nina Finch for almost a year, James hardly felt like an expert on girls. In fact, he distinctly remembered Nina's irritation at the what she termed the "disappointing" nature of his birthday gift to her. And he could hardly go purchase something appropriate in Hogsmeade. It was one thing to sneak out in his cloak to explore, but it was rather hard actually to buy things when he was invisible. No, he'd have to find something among his belongings. Or--

James stopped, turned around, and headed towards the library.

***

Madam Pince pressed her lips into a tight line that might have been a smile when she saw James. The only other student at the library was Eric Bennet, who was evidently studying for his OWLs. James ignored the Ravenclaw boy and began searching the Charms books for something appropriate.

Thirty minute later, sneezing terribly from the clouds of dust he had raised, James staggered over to Madam Pince's desk with four very old and very thick leatherbound tomes.

"Hmm," said Madam Pince, "Charms for Artisans; Decorative Charms; Charming Colors; The Charms of Craftsmen Throughout the Ages. A project for Professor Flitwick, Mr Potter?"

James flushed, remembering the twinkle in Flitwick's eye the previous day when he had interrupted the Patronus lesson. "Er, yes."

"Due in three weeks. Don't let Mr Black near them." Madam Pince had never forgive Sirius for an unfortunate incident involving the Restricted Section during their fourth year.

"He's away for the holidays, ma'am."

"Just as well."

James tucked the library books under his arm and fled.

***

He emerged from his dormitory for supper, tired but proud. He may not have been a Charms prodigy, like Lily, but he was good enough when he put his mind to it. He had taken a medium sized cardboard box, transfigured it into wood, and used a number of decorative charms to change the plain wooden box into a pretty keepsake box. The sides of the box were covered with an intricate pattern of leaves and birds. On the lid there was a lily painted in gold leaf. If you watched it for long enough, you would see the lily grow from a seedling to a bud to a full-blown blossom. That particular charm had been rather tricky, and James had needed five attempts to get it correctly. The inside of the box was lined with white silk--he had transfigured one of his old cotton handkerchiefs to provide the fabric--and the present was completed by a simple unsigned note. "Happy Christmas."

He wrapped the box in silver foil and gave it to Toddy on his way to the great hall. He knew that the house-elf could get it to Lily's stocking on the right morning without any difficulty.

In the great hall, he found Imogen Allen sitting with Lily. Both girls were giggling, and he thought he saw Imogen point at Lew Morris when the older boy wasn't looking. Lew was reading The Daily Prophet. Eric Bennet was picking at his food but not eating, and the four Hufflepuffs were discussing the prospect of snow. James sat down beside Lew with a sigh and reached for the potatoes.

"Where were you this afternoon, Potter? Thought you might want some Quidditch practice."

"Maybe tomorrow."

"Have you seen this?" Lew tossed James his newspaper. James unfolded the paper and read:

James threw down the newspaper, cursed loudly enough to attract the sharp eye of Professor McGonagall, and stabbed his potatoes viciously with his fork.

"Mr Potter!"

"Sorry, Professor." James's face reddened as he realized he had attracted the attention of every student at the table. His gaze fell upon the food on his plate, and his stomach turned uncomfortably at the thought of eating. "I--I'm not very hungry, I guess." He left the great hall quickly, not noticing a pair of green eyes that stared after him.

***

Once in the kitchen, he took off his cloak and drew out his wand. "Lumos," he muttered. The tip of his wand glowed. He bit back a startled cry when he saw Lily Evans sitting at a table in the corner.

"I thought you might come down here," she said.

This, thought James, is the problem with sharing your secrets. "You were waiting for me?"

"We were all a little worried when you stormed out of dinner."

Now that he had got over his fit of the sulks, James was a little embarrassed by his behavior. "Er, sorry about that. I, um--"

"Read something you didn't like?"

"You could put it that way."

"Toddy left some food out for you. He thought you'd be here too." She gestured at some plates on the table before her.

He sat down opposite her, tapping the plates with his wand to reheat the food. Typically, Toddy had left out enough food for five people. As he ate, he noticed that half-smile playing on the corners of Lily's lips again.

"Are you laughing at me?"

She chuckled. "I was just thinking that we seem to be making a habit of missing meals."

"So you are laughing at me."

"Maybe a little."

He ate in silence for a while. He was remembering the day, four weeks earlier, when Professor McGonagall had come to their Arithmancy class and asked to speak with Lily. Professor Vector had tried to continue their lesson, but everyone in the room had heard Lily weeping outside the door. "Lily, can I ask you a personal question?"

"I might not answer it, but you can ask."

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Hold yourself together. I'm a mess, and my parents are still alive."

Lily's eyes flashed, just for a moment, and then she was once again the quiet girl he had known for years. "The moment I fall apart, Voldemort wins." James winced at the name. "I'm not going to let that happen. I won't live in fear."

"Then how do you live?"

"In defiance." Her gaze dropped to her clasped hands. "I won't tell you not to worry about your parents, James, but they are Aurors. They can take care of themselves." She sighed. "I wish I was old enough to be an Auror. Old enough to do something."

"I know what you mean." He swallowed a mouthful of roast beef. An idea suddenly came to him. "Though I can think of one thing we can do."

"What's that?"

"Well, I don't think You-Know-Who would be too happy to know that the Head Girl of Hogwarts was Muggle-born."

Again, the half-smile. "You know, James, I think you're right."

***

They threw themselves into their studies the next day. In the morning, James helped Lily with Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and in the afternoon, she taught him some of the advanced charms she had learned from Professor Flitwick.

They spent so much time together over the next two days, in fact, that it was inevitable that some professors would catch them together, much as Professor Flitwick had. No points were taken off--how could they criticize such diligent students?--but many conclusions were drawn. And in the privacy of the staff room, the teachers shared more than one smile over the subject of the two sixth-year Gryffindor prefects.

***

Exhausted, James and Lily had just climbed through the portrait hole after another study session when they ran into a jumpy Lew Morris. "It's started!"

"What's started?"

"The snow! White Christmas, as promised."

The two sixth-years crossed the common and looked out the windows. Lew wasn't lying. The snow was coming down, thick and heavy, and the lawns were already covered with an inch of white. James thought about his parents, no doubt staking out some house in a lonely corner of England, and shivered. Aloud, he only said, "So much for that letter I was going to send Remus."

Lily stretched out one hand, so it rested on the frosted panes of glass. Her long pale fingers looked very delicate against the window and the storm-black sky, and James noticed with a lurch in his stomach that Lily Evans was a dashed pretty girl. She murmured, "Have you ever read--oh, I guess you wouldn't have--it's another Muggle book." The moment was broken, and she pulled away her hand, glanced at her watch. "I think I'm going to take a nap before the Feast. Will you wait for me before you walk down?"

James realized that he hadn't even considered doing otherwise. "Sure," he said in what he hoped was a light, casual tone of voice.

In a daze, he started towards his own dormitory. On the steps he passed Lew, who gave him a pitying look and said, "Head over heels."

"Oh, shut up, Morris."

But Lew was right, wasn't he? Somewhere along the line he had become utterly smitten. He was as bad as Imogen Allen. Worse, because she was twelve, and it's okay to be silly when one is twelve. He was sixteen, and the last thing Lily needed was the attentions of a love-sick boy when she was still mourning her parents.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed. Two hours before the feast, and he was completely worn out from practicing charms with Lily. His last thought before falling asleep?

***

There was something heavy on James's legs. He kicked half-heartedly at the heavy object in his sleep and flipped over in his bed, burrowing his face into the welcoming softness of his pillow. Then he remembered the date.

Christmas!

He sat up, snagged his glasses from their usual place on his bedside table, and considered the assortment of gifts strewn across the foot of his bed. He couldn't help feeling a little sad. This was his first Christmas without his parents, and he didn't even have Sirius, Remus, or Peter for company.

As usual, he started with the largest box. It was wrapped in expensive red and gold paper. There was a note from Remus attached to the top. It read:

James ripped off the paper, opened the box, and found a large terracotta pot filled with soil. This was their Christmas present? Dirt? What sort of trick was this?

He put the pot on the floor, a few feet away from his bed to be safe. He tapped it four times with his wand and said, "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs!"

There was a flash of yellow light. James blinked. When the spots in his vision finally cleared, he saw something in the pot. A tiny green seedling, shooting up towards the ceiling. It grew rapidly, uncurling new branches, and before long, he found himself staring at a four foot tall Christmas tree. There was another flash. Lights strung themselves between the branches of the tree; colorful ornaments shaped like dogs, wolves, stags, and rats appeared among clumps of tinsel; and finally at the very top of the tree, with another magical flash, there was an angel. She opened her tiny painted mouth and sang:

James had to laugh, for the angel sounded distinctly like Sirius Black.

When the angel finished her song, she bowed with a pretty flourish and waved one hand. And then, below the tiny tree, a little gift appeared, wrapped in more of the red and gold paper. James unwrapped it and found another note and an antique wizarding watch. This note was from Sirius:

Smiling, James put on his new watch and turned his attention to the rest of his things. His parents had sent him some Puddlemere merchandise, new dress robes, and a hefty gift certificate to Quality Quidditch Supplies. There was a tin of fudge from Mrs. Lupin, a book from his godfather, and assorted Honeydukes sweets from various cousins and members of the house team. And last of all, he found a slim paperback book.

It took him a moment to realize that it was a Muggle book, that the illustration on the cover would not be moving at all. The title was The Dark is Rising. On the flyleaf he found the following inscription:

He lay on his bed with a sigh and pondered the red velvet canopy of his bed. Morris was right.

Head over heels.

***

He busied himself with writing quick thank you letters, ignoring the fact that Hamlet wouldn't be able to return until the snow stopped. Then he showered, pulled on some clean clothes, and finally made an appearance in the Gryffindor common room.

Imogen Allen and Lew Morris were already playing chess, though little Imogen seemed more intent upon Lew than the chessboard. Lily was nowhere to be seen. James didn't bother asking Morris where she was--that was just asking to be teased--so instead he sat down in one of the window seats and watched the falling snow. It was still snowing steadily, and he guessed there was a good two feet accumulated on the lawns and Quidditch pitch. For the first time in days he wished he could take out his Nimbus and go flying, but he knew that would be forbidden until the snow stopped. It was a shame. Flying always helped him think clearly, and after obsessing over Lily Evans for the past twelve hours, he felt as if he could use some clarity of thought.

It was ridiculous, he told himself. Adolescent hormones. But even as he tried to convince himself that his newfound feelings for Lily were nothing more than passing fancy, his heart became ever more sure that this was the real thing. He knew he had never felt this way about Nina Finch, not even in the first heady days of their relationship. These emotions were entirely new to James.

In the afternoon, he read a few chapters of The Dark is Rising and decided that Muggle Christmases sounded quite fun. The descriptions of magic in the book were very odd. Wandless magic. Elemental magic. He thought about looking up the subjects in the library, mentally kicked himself for turning into Moony, and decided to finish his book later.

When he returned from putting his book away, he found Lily Evans sitting on the hearth with a bowlful of marshmallows. She smiled up at him and offered him one. "From Toddy. Have you ever had smores?"

"No. What are they?"

"A Muggle treat." She showed him how to squash a hot, melting marshmallow between two graham crackers and a slab of Honeydukes' best. Lily had quite a knack for putting the messy treats together. James always seemed to be burning his marshmallow or breaking his graham crackers, and by the end his fingers were a sticky, chocolatey mess.

Lily picked up her wand and cast a basic cleaning charm on James's hands. "You're like Petunia. She always makes a mess."

He grimaced. "From what you've told me of Petunia, that's hardly a compliment."

"Well, you're certainly not like Petunia in other things," she said with a laugh. "How were your presents?"

"Excellent," James said. "Thank you for the book. I'm, er, sorry I didn't get you anything."

"Well, knowing where the kitchens are has proved rather useful, so I'll forgive you." She gave him a dazzling smile, and James had to restrain the urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss her right there.

"Allen and Morris were talking about going sledding when the snow stops. Would you like to come?"

"Sure, that sounds--" She stopped as someone stepped through the portrait hole. Professor McGonagall. James couldn't remember the last time the stern Transfiguration professor had been in the common room.

"Mr Potter, the Headmaster would like to see you in his office."

James blanched, and he watched the blood rush from Lily's face as well. Both of them were thinking of the same thing.

***

END OF PART 2