Outrunning Our Shadows

Disclaimer:  All characters (but those I've invented) belong to JK Rowling and the respective publishing houses.  No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made on this story apart from the personal enjoyment I get in writing it.

 

A/N:  Here we have Ch. 8, which is a absolutely smashing chapter with all sorts of magnificent writing and acting, and particularly good directing. (Sorry, felt a bit in the Monty Python mood there. A Chocolate Crème Puff to anyone who can tell me where exactly it's from.) Alright, alright, “getting on with it.”

 

Outrunning Our Shadows

 

Head On Collision

 

Waking up the next morning, I knew right away that something was a little off. There was no Sirius above me with makeshift cymbals, no Chinese Water Torture devices rigged to drip freezing water on my forehead one drop at a time, no fanfare. Realizing this, I came to the one logical conclusion. It was too bloody early to be awake. Looking at the other beds, I saw all had bodies in them of my friends, each lost to their slumber. I saw that Lily had left sometime after I fell asleep, and wondered how long she'd been in the room the night before. Glancing outside, I saw the roiling clouds, gray and heavy with rain. Perfect. I can't even go outside and fly for a bit.

 

I watched the leaden clouds roll in for a few minutes, pondering the storm that was coming, both outside the school and within our group of friends. I thought that Lily had said something to me while I was sleeping, about wanting to talk to me. Knowing that she wanted to talk to me privately, I imagined the worst - that what she had told the guys was only to reassure them, and there was something more significant and menacing that she brought back to school from her weekend at home. Shuddering again at the fear I felt in my dream, I thought that perhaps the storm that was coming was just in me - perhaps Lily's situation is dredging up memories that I'd hoped to forget, perhaps I still had some things to deal with. Shaking my head at how selfish that sounded, I dragged myself back to thinking of possible things that Lily was going to tell me after classes today. As I dressed and got ready for the day, since I obviously wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep, I vowed to watch her during our classes, so at least I'd be a little prepared for what might come. Even if I'm not a genius at all my subjects, I would get the highest marks in Lily's Body Language 101.

 

I used to sit and watch the pouring rain

I used to wish to be back home again

Hadn't the strength then

Hadn't the chance to reveal

That it's all in your head

When do we begin?

 

Deciding it was useless to sit around and wait for my mates to wake up, as Sirius normally didn't sound the alarm for another forty-five minutes, I opted to go down to breakfast and twiddle my thumbs there. In actuality, my stomach was wrapping itself around my spine and groaning in emptiness. Grabbing my books and rucksack, I shut the door of the dormitory, and left the Tower. The halls were deserted, and I savored the feeling of freedom and invincibility that came with being the only one where you are - you can do anything, and there's no one around to stop you. I chatted with several of the portraits as I walked by, for they were used to my after-hours roaming about the castle, and often liked to catch up on whatever mischief I might have gotten away with. Giving them the concise list, I waved goodbye as they tipped their hats, and I continued on to the breakfast my insides were screaming for.

 

The room was all but empty when I first arrived, with only two people sitting at the Ravenclaw table, hunched over a thick textbook. They looked up when I arrived, and I recognized them as Silena Davies and Cassiopeia Sinistra, two fifth-years who were known for their love of astronomy. As I greeted them shortly (for I still wasn't sure about Cassie's ulterior motives for striking conversation), I wondered to myself whether they'd been up all night, trying to make sense out of the balls of gas burning millions of miles away. I shook my head, scoffing silently at the impact that any of those stargazers and Centaurs would have on the Wizarding world. I found myself much more interested in the substantive studies of magic: Transfiguration, Charms, and … even Potions was more real than Astronomy. “The only use for that damn tower?” Sirius's voice interrupted in my head. “Stargazing. Not the one's outside the window at night, but the ones in your eyes after a particularly spectacular snog.” I smirked to myself as I sat down to eat at the Gryffindor table, far away from the two Ravenclaw girls.

 

~~~~~

 

A little while later, the Hall was about half-full, and people were starting to mill about, greeting friends from different Houses. I was finishing the third tower of my sugar-cube castle when I was joined by Lily and the guys. Adding the last tier and murmuring a quick-stick spell to keep it attached, I turned my attention to the rest of the group. Sirius cuffed me on the shoulder, whining about how he was worried about me, I could have been lost, and yadda yadda yadda. I felt for a moment like a five-year-old who'd been out all night before Remus smacked him on the back of the head and said, “He's just a little off because he couldn't finish his grand wake-up ceremony. That's some castle you've got there, Prongs. Been here long?” Everyone looked at me amusedly, even Lily, with a small smile on her face.

 

I mumbled something about “couldn't sleep anymore” and busied myself with pouring a refill of pineapple juice.

 

Getting the message, the subject was dropped, as they all began to eat their own breakfasts. As I watched them wolf down their food, it occurred to me that the full moon was coming up. Glancing at the clock at the end of the Hall, I gathered from the whirling planets that it was going to be on Friday. I turned my attention back to the group, saying quietly, “Full moon Friday. Do we have any plans?”

 

Remus grimaced, as if not wanting to be reminded. He, Sirius, and Peter all shook their heads, eyes glinting as if eager for another midnight adventure. Lily looked thoughtful for a moment, and then furrowed her brow slightly. “Uh, James,” she said worriedly. “That's the 10^th. We've got a Prefects' meeting at 9 that night. It's the one about Halloween?”

 

Right. I'm a Prefect. Prefects have meetings. Gah. “There's no way I could get out of it? Play sick?” I really didn't want to go to this meeting, especially if there was marauding to be done.

 

Lily smiled slightly, obviously interpreting the look on my face. “Fine, but only this time,” she conceded, in a mothering tone. “But make sure that you act sick during the day. I don't want McGonagall down my throat again for covering your ass.” I grinned, happy that Lily was back.

 

My happiness, however, was very short-lived. A voice broke over our heads and off to one side, sneering, “And what, exactly, is so important that Mr. Potter needs to play sick to avoid our Prefects' Meeting?” Severus Snape stood behind us, arms crossed in a sinister way, acting as if he were a Professor, and not just an eavesdropping student. His hair was pulled back in its normal fashion, and black robes were spotlessly clean - evidently, he'd gotten over his bout of clumsiness and was back in his normal bad mood. He swept his gaze over all of us, as if our faces alone could spill our secrets. “Hmm?” He added, prompting.

 

I pulled out the oldest excuse from my back pocket. “Well, Severus,” I began, trying to buy time to not seem quite so nervous, “I decided to be a good friend and take my friend Remus to the train station in Hogsmeade on Friday. He has a sick family member, and he's going to visit them in the hospital. Of course,” I continued, eyeing his Widow's Peak deliberately, “with none of your family members ever getting … sick… you wouldn't know what that's like.” Our group always had a running joke that with as pale as Snape was, and with his temperament, he must be at least part-vampire. While we knew it wasn't true, since we've seen his reflection in passing mirrors, it was hard to justify his bad mood and constant skulking in dark corners as anything else.

 

His eyes narrowed, obviously getting the jibe and clearly not amused. Sirius, Remus, and Peter bit back giggles, and Lily just shook her head, smiling indulgently at our childish antics. Voice hardened and having dropped several degrees in tone, Snape continued. “Amusing, Potter. Now, Lupin,” he said, changing to a tone of saccharine sweetness, “your family seems to be sick all the time, yourself included. Is this some sort of condition you all share? Do you all have the same, shall we say, affliction?” He watched, eyes trained like a hawk on Remus, as my friend shuddered slightly.

 

Recovering quickly, Remus glared back at Snape as Sirius retorted, “Leave off Snape. It's none of your damn business.”

 

Seemingly considering Sirius for a moment, Snape shook his head. “It most certainly is my business, as a Prefect, Black. After all, if this disease, as we may call it, is contagious or is spread around easily through personal contact, I have a right to know so as to inform the proper authorities.” Taken as an aside comment, it might have seemed that he cared for other people, but it was plain that the goal was to expose Remus, not protect the populace.

 

Swallowing down ire, Remus looked straight at Shape. Calmly, he commented, “You might not want to stick around then, Snape. You wouldn't want to risk being susceptible, now would you?”

 

In response, Snape smirked a little, and bent low over Remus's chair. Whispering next to his ear, but loud enough for us all to hear, he remarked, “Ah, he bites back. Very good, Lupin. It's nice to see that you're finally getting some teeth to you.”

 

Rat bastard. At this, even Lily made a sound of protest. Seeing our reactions, Snape smiled and turned away, heading back to his own table. As if in reaction to our feelings, the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall flashed a giant streak of lightning across the entire length of it, and a thunderstorm began to pour, raining down on us, but stopping about halfway, disappearing in a feat of magic. The sky seemed able to rain all day, and the same went for us - Snape had set the mood.

 

~~~~~

 

After breakfast, Potions was the first class of the day. We shared the class with the Ravenclaws, and it was a nice respite from Snape, who we all knew would be giving us knowing and vicious glances throughout Charms, which followed. The Potions dungeon was lit by torches which ringed the room, giving the room a yellowish cast. The professor, Arsenius Jigger, was strict about his subject, but was well-respected by the students and staff alike. It was said that he was working on a comprehensive potions textbook, since our current book had been in use since 1847, and was missing information on the twelve uses of dragon blood that Professor Dumbledore recently discovered. Once his book was finished, it was assumed that he would leave teaching, but I hoped that the generations after us got as well-read a professor as we had. Professor Jigger might have been serious about Potions, but he knew how to apply this knowledge in everyday wizardry, which made the class worthwhile.

 

We filed in, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, and sat where we were assigned, partnered with a member of the opposite house, of the same gender. Jigger was under no illusions about what he called “the romantic atmosphere created around a softly simmering cauldron.” My partner was Dennis Boot, a serious guy without much of a sense of humor. It worked in my favor, however, because there were times when I didn't always want to be chatting about how my life was. Today was one of them.

 

Leaving the taking of notes for today's potion to him, I set up the cauldron and flame, and focused my attention on Lily. By now, everyone in the school was well aware of her situation, and her partner Chun-Yin Xing, a pretty Asian girl who was the female Prefect of that House along with Vijay Patil, tried to make polite conversation. I watched as Lily deflected each attempt at congeniality, politely but curtly, until finally Chun-Yin nodded in resignation, and turned away. Catching her eye, I gave her what I thought would be a sympathetic smile. Her eyes questioned me back, challenging, Well, what are you going to do about it? My mouth set in a grim line, I mouthed back, I'm working on it. Nodding, she returned to her work. Following suit, I quickly set up our potion with Dennis, adding the necessary ingredients to our Hair-Raising Potion. Seeing what was the last ingredient to be added, I glanced over to where Peter was working with his partner, and saw him grimace as he added the rat tails to his mixture. I would never understand his affinity for the things, but evidently they were interesting creatures. Dennis, feeling the same aversion that I did, added ours quickly and without any ceremony, causing our cauldron to slosh up the sides a little before settling and turning an astonishing shade of magenta. Since our cauldron now had to simmer for twenty minutes, Dennis took notes on the effects of this solution, and I jotted makes hair grow into my notebook. Thus finished with the necessities, I went back to studying Lily.

 

At the moment, she was being entertained by Remus and Sirius, who sat somewhat close by with their own partners. Vijay Patil, who was Sirius's partner and sat between the two, had his head buried in a book and was ignoring the two as they waved their hands around energetically. I imagined that they were telling some story, but, as much as I wanted to know what they were talking about, I watched Lily's reaction instead. When she smiled, it didn't reach her eyes, even though she seemed to smile normally. She didn't seem as dynamic as she normally did, but I had to count this as an aftereffect of her weekend. Watching her body language, however, I saw that her hands were tangling in her lap, wringing themselves out in an old habit that showed up whenever Lily was stressed or uncomfortable. Lily, uncomfortable with being regaled with stories of Snape's humiliation? I blew out my air in one big breath, seeing that Lily was nowhere near healed from her trials. Before I could think on it anymore, Potions was winding down, and we had to clean out the cauldrons and store our potions in the refrigerating cabinet for analysis in the next class. Quickly copying down the homework from the chalkboard with one hand while wiping down the table with the other, I rushed to be out the door at the same time as Lily. Sparing a moment to be proud of my multi-tasking skills, I jogged to catch up with the group as they walked toward our next class.

 

Charms was our second class of the day, and in this one, I sat right next to Lily, and so would have a good opportunity to gauge her real feelings. After all, this subject was her bailiwick, and if she could be comfortable anywhere, it would be in Filius Flitwick's class, demonstrating a difficult charm for the rest of us. The class was noisier as it entered this one, and the Slytherins clustered themselves in one corner of the room as we took over another. Professor Flitwick, a small-statured little man with a squeaky voice and a high-on-life aura, knew that his class would never cooperate with mixed-House seating, and so allowed the segregation. As he entered and began class, I again did the minimal work required and watched Lily instead, out of the corner of my eye. The more the class went on, the more off-color Lily looked, and the more worried I became.

 

When asked to demonstrate a simple Maturing Charm on a seedling, Lily paled, shrinking back in her seat, shaking her head vehemently. Flitwick looked alarmed, and it occurred to me that Lily had never refused to demonstrate before. Before anyone else could react, or the Professor could ask Lily what the problem was, I volunteered. Still looking mildly surprised, Flitwick nodded, asking me to stand so the class could see. Hoping that I'd studied the correct pronunciation in my flurry of study the afternoon before, I swished and flicked at the seedling, muttering, “Engorgi maturus!” To my profound relief, the seedling started pulsing, and within seconds, had grown to a respectable height of four feet, and had sprouted flower buds. Professor Flitwick applauded, gave me 10 points for Gryffindor, and commented that, the stronger the spell, the more the plant would mature. I imagine that, had Lily done the spell right then, it might have grown an inch, no more.

 

Throughout that class, she refused to pick up her wand, as if it was poison. She pretended to take notes on what Flitwick was saying, but instead kept her quill poised over her parchment, ink dripping slowly onto the otherwise blank page whenever her hand quivered. She seemed withdrawn from the lesson, as if she were afraid of it. The memory swam in my brain of class right before the funeral, when Lily seemed to be almost afraid that her magic; in Charms that day, she'd winced as she performed a spell, and it appeared that she had been more apprehensive of its success than its failure. This development caused me to frown - no one and nothing got away with scaring my best friend of her own magic. That was like being nervous about your eyes blinking. It's not something you can just ignore.

 

Lunch was a silent affair. I knew that I was going to talk to Lily following the classes for the day, and the only comment that passed between us was an agreement to use the Prefects' Lounge, which would be deserted during the day on a weekday. To others, Lily outwardly seemed calm and attentive to their comments, but her hands continued to wrestle with each other below the table, and most of her food remained on her plate even after every one else had eaten their share. Looking around the table, I saw that Remus, Sirius, and Peter were acting in the best way they knew how: cheer up Lily, make her think of something other than that weekend. They continued to tell her all about what we'd done to Snape, as well as several embellished stories from old pranks that we'd included in the album-scrapbook. While she laughed politely at the reminiscing, I could tell that Lily's mind was elsewhere. I was getting impatient for our talk. I knew there were something seriously wrong.

 

Another tragic case of feeling

Bruised and broken

From your head on collision

I've never seen this side of you

Another tragic case

 

The last class of the day, Muggle Studies, proved no better than the first two. The Professor, Mordicus Egg, was in the same position as Professor Jigger. He was writing a book on Muggles, and was serving as a temporary professor at Hogwarts until his writing was finished. Normally, Lily served as his assistant in this class, being the only Muggleborn of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Houses who had decided to take Muggle Studies. She found it interesting, she always said, to look at Muggles from a Wizarding perspective. I suppose it wasn't for the humor of it, though there was some, but perhaps it helped her better understand Wizarding society, since Hogwarts offered no class in Wizarding Studies. Professor Egg always called on Lily to clarify some matter of Muggle society, be it the function of the light switch or for an explanation of the uses of a vacuum.

 

Today, however, Lily might as well have been a statue. She took no notes, she answered no questions, and I ended up mentioning to Professor Egg as he came around that Lily wasn't feeling well today, but should be feeling more up to classwork by the next class or two. Nodding worriedly, he took my excuse, mumbling about how was he supposed to find out what an 8-track did without Lily to help him? I ignored him, watching instead the face of my watch, as it cycled through messages of Hold your horses! and No, it's not time yet. By the time class was over, I was tapping my fingers in patterns on the desk, feeling jumpy and anxious about the upcoming conversation.

 

~~~~~

 

I closed the door of the Prefects' Lounge with a secure locking and sound charm to ensure that no one would interrupt while we were talking. Lily was sitting next to the dying fire, making no move to re-ignite the flames, but content to stare out the window at the rain which was battering the sides of the castle. Preparing to cast another sound charm to block out the roaring wind, Lily's voice broke in quickly, “Don't. I like the sound of the rain. It reminds me that I'm alive, and this isn't all one bad dream.”

 

A little confused and a lot concerned, I moved back to where she was, taking a chair facing her. Neither of us spoke for a moment while she continued to stare outside. Unable to stand the silence, I opened with, “I've been worried about you. All day today you seemed withdrawn and out of it. What happened last weekend?” I figured, direct approach was best. After all, small talk with Lily was always a failure. She knew me as well as I knew her.

 

Her eyes hooded, she furrowed her brow as I regarded her expectantly. Twice, she opened her mouth as if to begin and closed it again, not ready to disclose that thought. Knowing she would crack if I just waited, I tapped my fingers on the side of my armchair in patterns, settling on the beat of the latest song by the Clash, one of Lily's favorite Muggle bands. I deliberately flubbed the beat at one specific point in the song, and the repeated the pattern, waiting for her to react to my actions.

 

As predicted, she caved within moments of my mistake, saying, exasperated, “Fine. Fine. I'll talk. But you've got that refrain all wrong.” She met my eyes with her darkened green ones, and grimaced slightly at my knowing smirk. “Urg, you got me. I hate it when you do that.”

 

Glad that she'd said something, but frustrated that she didn't continue, I prodded, “Well?”

 

Looking off into some distance beyond my left shoulder, she began. “It wasn't just the weekend. Since their death, I've felt really out of place in the Wizarding world. I mean, it was my parents who were the most staunch supporters of my magical abilities. We even hid it from my grandparents and relatives. I remember them thinking for years that I went to St. Beatrice's Boarding and Finishing School in Wales. They were always astonished by my lack of manners when they heard from Petunia how I brought home nose-biting teacups as a present for my parents. Honestly,” she said, looking at me with a resigned frustration floating in her eyes, “it's not as if I said, `Here, Petunia, why don't you have some tea and let this hang off your overgrown beak for a while,' you know?”

 

Having remembered the incident when it had happened, I nodded. I continued to watch her body language as she talked, and was relieved to see that she wasn't wringing her hands or avoiding anything, but truly seeming to open up to me. My heart swelled at the sight of her trusting my friendship so much that she'd share these private thoughts with me. She relaxed as she talked, as if the effort of getting these feelings and worries out was the most painful part of the process. “At the funeral, I was approached by my aunts and uncles. They all seemed so sad at my parents' deaths, but it occurred to me how carefree their lives were. They didn't have to worry about a dark lord who was coming to power - until then, he'd never affected them in any way, not even superficially. The most they were concerned about was that the grass wasn't as green as their neighbors, or that the roof had a hole that would need to be patched before the next big rainstorm. After that, I haven't been able to stop thinking about how much easier life is as a Muggle. There's no worrying about someone coming to get you because you don't have generations of blood behind you,” she spat out the word with bitterness. “Hell,” she swore, “even Petunia lives a more peaceful life than I do. She goes to her cooking classes, frets about her boyfriend, and takes care of her dog, Fitzwilliam. Even after they died, Petunia was able to keep a normal schedule, because my parents had taken care of everything in advance.”

 

What does this have to do with…With a swift intake of breath, I realized what Lily was alluding to. “Are you saying then,” I said, voice shaking a little at the enormity of this possible development, “that you want to leave Hogwarts?” Please say no, please say no.

 

“No,” she said slowly, and I let out all my breath in relief. “I was thinking more along the lines of leaving the Wizarding world. Altogether.” She looked at me, almost fearing my reaction.

 

Look straight through me these eyes

Seeking more wisdom than I have to give away

Realize, realize what you are

 

I felt as if someone had punched me. Leave the Wizarding world? But that's like cutting off an arm! “You think you can just disown us all?” I growled, tone harsher than I planned. “You can't just decide whether or not to be magical. It's not something you can have on Fridays as a special treat. It's what you are. You were born with this gift of magic! You can make things fly, and you can fly with them, and you can make your bed with a swish of a wand! I mean, even if you left the Wizarding world, you'd still have accidental magic. How would you explain that? And Voldemort wouldn't leave you alone. He'd still come after you, because you're still one of the most powerful witches in this entire school. You'd be leaving us all, basically telling us that we're not enough for you anymore, that our society and company are too risky for you. Is that it?” My voice raised, I looked with distain at my best friend, who had basically just told me that I wasn't a good enough friend for her to stick around for.

 

Lily's hand flew up to cover her mouth, and her eyes widened in horror. “No, no, that's not what I meant!” she wailed. “You don't understand! I feel so much guilt about this! I mean, Petunia said, if it weren't for me, our parents would never had died, and she was right! If I weren't magical, then they wouldn't have ever become a target for Voldemort. If I had turned my back on my magic right away, we could be at a picnic, for God's sake! I could be home with a sister who would love me again, instead of acting like I was a dangerous creature! When I go home, she walks on eggshells around me. Even before they died, she would never invite her friends over when I was home. She'd have them pick her up, and she'd go to their houses. She was so afraid that they would see me and think badly of her! As if I'm some sort of abomination! And I'm starting to think she's right!” Her voice breaking, she started to cry as she added softly, “What kind of a gift is it that causes your parents to die? What kind of abomination of a daughter would I be to keep being as I am, when all I bring to those who love me is pain?”

 

I shut my eyes in shared pain, opening them after a moment only to move over to where Lily was sitting, and to wrap her in an enveloping hug. She struggled at first, trying to fend me off, but I persisted, and finally, she put her head on my shoulders as her tears leaked out like the rain outside. I freed one hand to smooth over her hair, and thought carefully about how I was going to piece my broken friend back together.

 

“Wow,” I began, “I never knew this was so hard for you. And,” I wanted to hold in these words, but choked them out anyway, “if you want to leave, I'll not stop you. But,” and here I gave her a little squeeze to emphasize this, “I will fight for you to stay. You belong here, Lil. You can't turn your back on something that you've been gifted with. It's a part of you, and your parents were the biggest supporters of your magical education. I think that if you turned your back on magic now, you'd be hurting your parents more than anything else. After all, it was their support of your abilities that kept you going with Petunia started feeling alienated.

 

“It's not just your parents who would be let down if you left,” I said, changing the topic slightly. “You're a Prefect, and you are the only one who is a Muggle-born. You are so good at helping the Muggle-born first years when they first arrive, you should see it. They always talk about how you give such great advice, and you have seen for yourself how they integrate better after they've talked to you a bit. The guys and I would sure miss you,” I added in a soft tone. “You should have seen us while you were gone this weekend. Almost every other statement was about how we wished you were ok and coming back soon. Even if you don't get along all the time with your dorm mates, they do respect you, and so do your professors. You saw how much Egg wanted to have your opinion in class today. And Flitwick prizes your Charms skills so highly. Even Dumbledore talks about you all the time when I go to speak to him. Besides those Slytherin gits,” I said, enticing a watery chuckle out of her, “you have the respect of almost everyone at this school. Your friends are here, you have a great career in Charms ahead of you if you want it, and I think that you could make a significant contribution to the Wizarding World, Miss Lily Evans. And you can't make that contribution if you're not a part of it.” I patted her on the nose twice to both prove my point and to get her to consider my points.

 

She leaned into me slightly, and I pulled her closer. “I just don't know, James,” she said, “I feel as if there's nothing I can give. It's so hard to pick up my wand because I'm afraid of being able to do something that normal people can't do. I've just felt so out of touch lately, as if I don't belong.”

 

“Now Lily,” I began again, pleadingly, “you're better than this. No one is normal, not even Petunia. And, even if she were, would you want to be like her?” A noise resembling a snort came from the person curled into my side, so I took that as a no. “Why be normal? You're so much better than normal. Heck, you're so much better than most of us. Did you see all the stuff in that album? Everyone in the House got together to make that for you, and it all says one thing: We're here for you. You belong here. And,” I paused, wiping her eyes of the last little tears that had seeped out, “I'm here, to lean on, if ever you need someone to pick you up after a rough day. It won't be easy, but at least promise me that you'll give yourself some time to get back in the swing of things. At least,” I said, as I made her look at me, “give us some warning before you swear off magic altogether?” I gave her a small smirk, which she returned in the first real smile I'd seen all week.

 

No more words were said. We maneuvered our chairs to watch the rain until it was time for dinner, and I sat, rubbing Lily's arms as I held her, relieved that I finally knew what was bugging her and worried about what to do. I knew that it would be rough for her, and that she wouldn't be able to “snap out of it” in a matter of days. Resolving to talk to Professor McGonagall about lightening Lily's load until she was comfortable taking it up again, I also thought about a trip to visit Hagrid, the school's Gamekeeper, who might be the only other person who might understand. I knew I wouldn't go to Sirius or Remus with this information, but maybe Hagrid, who himself was something unusual with his relative giantness compared to other students, would be able to talk to Lily about how he learned to adjust. Hagrid was one of my favorite non-students, apart from Dumbledore, because he gave candid and honest opinions, and was always ready with a hot cup of tea and a bear hug. At that thought, I tightened my hold briefly around Lily, thinking that perhaps hugs were what Lily would need most in the next few days and weeks. If anything else, she could use the support, and I knew I'd be there.

 

Bones sinking like stones,

All that we fought for,

Homes, places we've grown,

All of us are done for.

 

Oh, all that I know,

There's nothing here to run from,

`Cos yeah, everybody here's got

Somebody to lean on.

 

~~~~~

 

A/N: There we go. I like this chapter - has some passion, some anger, some wit, and some worrying.

 

Music from this chapter was brought to you by: Guster, with their smashing song “Mona Lisa” from the Parachute LP; New Found Glory, with their fantastic single “Head on Collision” from the Sticks and Stones LP; the fabulous Dave Matthews Band, with the magnificent cut “What You Are,” from the Everyday LP; and, CERTAINLY not least, the brilliant, the always a favorite Coldplay, with their lovely song “Don't Panic,” from the Parachutes LP.

 

Things to Expect: Life doesn't fix itself that easy for our favorite redhead. Doubts, fears abound. James finds himself wishing he could major in “Lily Studies,” because that's one subject in which he is completely secure. Even if his methods work, however, Lily may not thank him for his efforts. Oh, and, there's a full moon.

 

What'd you think? Good? Bad? Cliché? Let me know!