Disclaimer: You all by now its JKRs.
Chapter Title: Five; Choices
Chapter Summary: An answer, quidditch, destiny, and Lily Potter.
~*~
I've had my choices
I've chosen today
I've had my choices
The choices remain
--Living is Simple, Switchfoot
~*~
He looked so lost, standing before with that desperate, longing look in his eyes. This was a James she hadn't known existed. A James who was kind, and gentle, and wanted more than anything to protect those he cared for. It came as a shock to Lily, this realization that maybe he wasn't just being like this to annoy her with his infatuation, that maybe he was sincere when he told her she looked pretty, or merely defending people when he performed his curses on various enemies. Maybe, just maybe, James was good.
Giving him a small, wavering smile, Lily reached out a hand to grasp one of his. She wove her fingers within his, causing him to glance down unbelievingly at where she now held his hand. "Don't worry Potter," she whispered, "I'm not going anywhere soon."
His face rose, hazel eyes wide and incredulous. Then, he too smiled in response, a smile filled with an emotion kin to hope. Giving her hand the smallest of squeezes, he replied gratefully, "Good."
~*~
The rest of the week sped by. While Lily was not openly friendly to James, she was far from her usual hostile self. On occasion, they traded greetings, or perhaps a flickering smile in the hallway, but for the most part their interaction was private. Even then, there wasn't much to be said. They discussed things such as classes and family, trading light jokes and amusing stories. The pair did not dare move towards more complex topics, like death, threats, or emotions. However, within a week James grew closer to Lily than he had ever been, and by that Saturday the two might have been described as friends.
Saturday dawned with brilliant sunshine, streaming through the windows of the head dormitories unwanted. Light flickered over James's eyelids, and at last, once it became simply too aggravating, him drew himself from bed. Glancing at the clock, he noted with surprise that it was well past eight. "Damn," James cursed, leaping from bed. Quidditch practice began at nine, and there was no way he was going to be late to their first practice.
He hopped frantically through his room, tossing on his quidditch uniform and not even bothering to comb his hair, it was useless anyway. Dashing into the common room, he was halfway to the door before an exasperated voice spoke from behind him.
"Potter, aren't you forgetting something?" Lily asked.
He squinted, trying to make out her form, and swore mentally. "Glasses, yea, have you seen them?"
"No," she replied, "I assume they're in your room."
James nodded and hurried into his room, before spending five minutes hunting for the damn pieces of glass. At last, when he determined his hunt to be fruitless, James poked his head into the common. "Hey Lily, er, would you mind lending a hand? I can't," he motioned to eyes, "see them. Since I don't have them."
Lily chuckled and stood, strolling leisurely to his room. "Why don't you just put them somewhere every night, so you don't have to worry about this?" Lily scolded gently, admitting privately that it was too humorous to see him dashing blindly here and there.
James scowled, "I'm not that bloody organized. It's stupid anyway, you need the glasses to see but you have to be able to see to find the glasses. Whose idea were they anyway?"
Lily brushed past him to enter his room. "I think most people can find them." She glanced around at his pigsty of a room, shaking her head. "In here though, anybody would be lost."
"Just help, please? The team will kill me if I'm late, and I'll have to endure Sirius's mocking little lectures for a week."
She sighed, and glanced around, making her way slowly through the piles of parchment and laundry. It was like wading through knee-deep mud, and she tossed things higgledy-piggledy in her search. After less than two minutes, she drew something from the top of his dresser. "Potter, you really are an idiot. They're in your glasses case."
James blushed as she tossed him the glasses, and stuck them stubbornly on his nose. "Well, it's not as if I expect them to be where they're supposed to be. That's too confusing!"
Lily laughed, and he grinned cheerily at her before dashing at an amazing speed from the room. She, however, made no move to leave. Instead, she frowned disapprovingly at the mess at her feet, and then brandished her wand. Pointing to a large pile of robes, she muttered a quick charm, and they were suddenly directed to the laundry basket in the corner of the room. Pointing again, various other items in the mass of destruction began to find their way to wherever they belonged.
While Evans was beginning to straighten his room, James was dashing madly onto the pitch. Arriving at last, he halted on the field, bending over as he wheezed out breaths. "Prongs," Sirius called as he strode toward James, "you were almost late!"
James sighed, "It's a bloody longer run from the head rooms. And that was after the twenty minute hunt for my glasses."
Sirius laughed. "How did you find them, mate? Normally you have Peter searching everywhere for you."
"Lily found them."
"Lily, is it?" An elegant eyebrow rose. "What are you two, married? She's finding your glasses now? Was she there when you lost them?"
James glared at his best friend, but Sirius merely smirked. "No, Padfoot, she wasn't. You're twisted."
"Nope, I'm Sirius, seriously!"
James sighed and rolled his eyes at the ancient and rotting comment, but who could expect less from Sirius? Sirius beamed back, and then called to the assembled team, "C'mon everyone! Up in the air!"
James hurried to the lockers, grabbing his broom and leaping onto it before even reaching the field. As soon as the open air his him, he was soaring towards the shimmering sky.
James had always loved flying. It was like nothing else. Once on a broomstick, he left all of his troubles on the ground. Gone was the threat of Voldemort, past was the difficulty of NEWT classes. When he was flying, life was perfect.
"Prongs, the snitch is out!" He heard Sirius call from below. For a moment, James ignored his friends, twisting in a lazy loop. He didn't want to come back to the game just yet. For another moment, he wanted to be free.
That thought was blasted out of his mind when Sirius sent a bludger hurdling towards him. James dropped instantly, even though his brain hadn't fully caught the action. Reflexes were all a part of quidditch, and James had reflexes in a store several times more enormous than most.
The bludger had broken his reverie, and James's hazel eyes now sought the snitch. Diving lower, he writhed in serpentine motion around the goal posts. Around him, he could hear Sirius shouting plays, but James ignored the sound. The seeker was a solitary player. Seeking was not something that could be taught in a series of practices, or learned in a few dozen plays. It was an art, a born talent that few possessed.
It had always been James's art, since long before he arrived at Hogwarts. However, James had played Chaser on the team as a second and third year, as the position of seeker had already been filled. Then, in fourth year, growing tired of an endless match against Slytherin, he had stolen the snitch from where it hovered inches beyond the Slytherin seeker's fingertips, and had passed it to the Gryffindor seeker. The captain, asking loudly why James had never mentioned he could play seeker before, had switched his roles with the seeker. It had turned out better for both of them.
Out of the corner of his eye, James noted the tiniest flicker of gold. A moment later, he was speeding at a frantic pace towards it, hovered low over his trusty broom. It may not have been the most new and prominent broom at that time, but it had weathered storms and snows, frustrations and exhaustion, and it had never failed James. To him, the battered broom was just an old, dear friend.
A split second later, he was reaching for the snitch, realizing only then that Sirius had just slammed a bludger in his direction. Cursing his friend's belief that challenges would make him better, he swung upside down and his broom and let the bludger hurtle past the exact spot his stomach might have been. Still upside down, he removed a hand from he handle, and stretched to clasp the small ball in his fingers.
Almost immediately following, he flew smack dab into a chaser, and tumbled twenty feet to the ground.
He hit the pitch with a loud grunt of pain, snitch still clutched in his palm. Mentally reviewing his health, he determined that nothing was broken, but his back was going to be very, very sore tomorrow.
Sirius's head popped jovially into his view, and Padfoot grinned down at him. "Good work, mate."
"Bloody hell, Padfoot," James groaned. "That hurt."
"Good for your character," Sirius replied. "Now, c'mon, let's see if you can't catch it faster!"
~*~
Lily Evans quickly discovered that James's bedroom was very. layered. Pile after pile of junk was thrown everywhere, and, getting frustrated, she finally flopped unceremoniously onto the floor. She landed on a notebook, which she dragged out from beneath her, and flipped idly through the pages.
They were charms notes and, judging by the tattered quality of the pages, getting quite old. Opening to a page towards the end, she scanned quickly over his sloppy handwriting. It was a tiny scrawl, but somehow legible all the same. However, it was all shorthanded to the point that it was practically code. Sighing, she ruffled through a few more pages, and halted when a small image caught her eye.
Drawn on the page was a snitch, perfect in every detail, down to the feather wings. Scrawled elegantly in the middle, complete with flourish, were the letters L.E. Lily blushed, scanning over the rest of the page. This one had clearly begun as notes, but a third of the way down the page became something quite different.
Evans hates me. I know she does. And she thinks I'm terrible for making her angry. But it's fun! And she looks so pretty when she's angry! Her eyes light up, and they glow and. She's so pretty. I told her that yesterday, and she told me to 'Sod off'. Bloody girls and their mind games!
Flipping to the next page, she found a handful of new notes, accompanied by a handful of comments about her.
I think Evans's hair is made of fire. Like her eyes. If glares could do magic, I'd have been through ten 'incendio's by now. But really, her hair is so red! The other day she-
"What are you doing?"
Lily glanced up at the sound of James's voice. He was standing in his doorway, lightly coated in dirt and sweat. Leaning on the doorframe, he inspected her with suspicion.
"I-I was straightening up your room," she stammered, waving at the piles around the area.
James glanced around, then turned his gaze back on her. "You cleaned my room?"
"Well, I started, but it's worse than I thought."
There was a pause, and then he strode to lower himself on the bed about a foot away from her. Leaning over, he plucked the book lightly from her fingers. Glancing over the page, Lily found that she couldn't read his expression, and it worried her. She had been prying, and if he accused her of it.
James laughed softly, "Fifth year. Merlin, you hated me back then."
"You were a prat," she replied stubbornly.
"Yea, I suppose I was. We all were though, didn't have anything to worry about. Now it's all on us, because we're the future." He sighed, tossed the book carelessly on his desk, and stood slowly.
As he hobbled towards his bathroom door, Lily noticed that his walk was shuffling and awkward. "Are you okay?"
He turned around and grinned sheepishly at her. "I fell off my broom."
Lily winced. "Flying is risky Potter. You should be more careful."
"What, worried for my safety?" James teased.
Lily met his hazel eyes, "Yes."
~*~
Lily made a decision when she entered the library that day. Huddled in her hidden corner was Crystal Howling, exactly where she always sat. Taking a deep breath, Lily strode towards the small table. She set her books gently on the table, before taking the seat across from Crystal.
Howling glanced up, narrowing her eyes. What, two Gryffindors in one week? Is it drive Crystal crazy month?
Lily met the glare calmly, before speaking softly. "Hello."
"Go away," Crystal replied grumpily, diving back into her book.
Lily sat silently for several long minutes, then whispered into the quiet, "Mrs. Meadows died."
Crystal's head jerked up before she stop it's movement, and the word was out of her mouth before she could stop it. "What?"
"In the attack," Lily said slowly. "She died in the attack before school started. Dumbledore told me."
Howling blinked. "But. I met Mrs. Meadows. She was so friendly."
"I know," she whispered, blinking back tears. "I. I owled Dorcas. I hope she's alright."
"Me too."
Lily gaped at Crystal, having not expected this reaction. A sneer perhaps, or a cold look, but. maybe there was something of the old Crystal, hidden somewhere within this emotionless girl.
"You do?" Lily asked softly.
Crystal paused for a long moment, considering. "Yea." She drawled slowly, "I guess I do."
~*~
Sunday found Crystal back in the library, once more skimming lightly through her book. She was quite unsurprised when a rustle of movement informed her that her table had a visitor. They had been quite frequent lately. She idly finished her page, before raising her eyes to meet brilliant blue ones.
"Morning Crystal," Sirius greeted her with a grin.
"On a first name basis, are we now?" She asked, disinterested.
"I'm on a first name basis with every lovel-I mean, every beautiful girl in the school."
"Yea," Crystal drawled, "because you've shagged them all."
He smiled charmingly at her. "Clearly not the Queen of Beauty, though."
Crystal sighed in aggravation, returning to her book. A minute later, he was pestering her with questions and sappy comments again, but she took no notice. Instead, her eyes traveled over the page, though her brain did not fully process the information.
After so long, even Sirius gave up, and stood to move from the table. He was pushing in his chair when a soft, sorrow leaden voice stopped him. "Do you ever think about it?"
He turned around, to where Crystal's eyes still stared at the page, but her words were clearly directed at him. "Think about what?" Sirius questioned, leaning on the table on his elbows.
"Life. Why we're here, and what we're supposed to do with it. How things affect us, how the tiniest word can change our entire destiny. Do you ever think about it?" Her words were so soft that he had to crane forward to hear her, but their meaning hit him with sudden importance.
Slowly, Sirius slid back into the seat, frowning in concentration. "We control our own destinies. No one can change our choices, they make who we are. We're here to make them, to fulfill our choices, which created out fate. Life is ours, ours to live and ours to control."
"But it isn't," Crystal insisted. "It's not ours. Our life is. It's everyone's. If we die, then our death is part of the life of others. If we live, then how we live affects those around us. Things we create, things like authority, they push us towards where we go. How do we know that, without that authority, we wouldn't have turned out different?"
"You don't have to obey authority. Just because it says something doesn't mean you have to follow. If we did, then how would we live in our world today? If everyone listened to Voldemort just because he's powerful, then how would we live?" Sirius's tone was soft, and yet brimming with feeling.
"But you have to obey the rules. It's. it's the rules."
"Damn the rules. If I followed the rules, I'd be a Slytherin Death Eater still living with my demonic mother. I got put in Gryffindor, and I thought it was the worst thing in the world. I was going to follow the Black Family Law, and hate Gryffindors to eternity. But I couldn't. The moment I met James, we were brothers. It didn't matter that our families had loathed each other for generations. Something in us didn't accept it. It's why I prank, why I turn the world upside down. To me, the rules are just words. Maybe someone, five hundred years ago, said they shouldn't be broken. But I'll break them anyway. For freedom. For life."
Crystal stared at him for an eternal moment, gazing straight into those sincere, sapphire pools. They flickered with a passion she didn't know he possessed, glinted with a conviction that was entirely heartfelt. For a moment, a mere heartbeat, she felt something. Something beyond anger, and ice, and wild bitterness. It was something deep, and ancient, and everlasting. It was something she liked.
A smile couldn't grace her features then. It was too complex a subject. But when she looked at him, Crystal inwardly came to a conclusion, and he read it on her face. I'm a Slytherin. But I don't have to be evil and empty. I can live. For life.
~*~
Remus lay on his bed that night, staring at the moon. It was still half-grown tonight, but it would be full next Saturday. Next Saturday, he would be a monster again.
And yet, it didn't bother him.
At most times, he loathed being a werewolf. He could spend days cursing lycanthropy, blaming it for the awful transformation that he was forced to endure so frequently.
But not tonight.
Tonight, he felt. connected. It came, ever so often. This feeling of understanding, of focus. It made him realize that maybe this wasn't such a bad thing. That he was a part of something. That it created something.
It created a bond.
They had been close, James, Sirius, Peter and he. Then they had discovered he was a werewolf. They'd accepted him anyway.
It made them stronger.
Most friends were close through talking, and sports, and studies. They could smile and laugh and argue. But the Marauders were different.
Because of the werewolf.
Nobody else would ever understand it, but the werewolf made them better. They saw him at the absolute worst point in his life, and they joined him.
They were inseparable.
His friends had become anamagi for him. It meant that, even at the lowest point, they were there for each other. Not even a monster, a howling ferocious beast, could tear apart their friendship.
Who else could say that?
Nobody faced difficulties like this. Those that did failed. But his friends, they defeated it. They worked through the problem, and they solved it. Maybe he wasn't cured.
But he was happy.
And wasn't that what mattered? He may have turned into a werewolf once a month, but he didn't mind. Not if it meant that he had friends who were his blood. He didn't need anything more than that.
They were the Marauders.
Nothing could change that.
~*~
Lily was lounged on the sofa, her Defense Against the Dark Arts book propped in front of her, while her chin rested on her folded arms. She sighed, flipping tiredly to the next page while letting out a huge yawn. "Potter-" She began sleepily.
"It's James," he interrupted her.
"What?" Lily asked, her exhausted brain hardly functioning.
James glanced up from his own book, a volume on Grindewald, and glanced over to where she was still staring sleepily at her book. "James. My name is James," he repeated, shifting on the armchair.
Lily paused, then nodded. "Alright, so-"
"Say it," James broke in once more.
"Say what?" She questioned innocently, turning her head to flutter long eyelashes at him.
"James. Say it," he commanded with a small smile.
Smirking herself, she teased, "Why should I?"
He stared at her for a long pause, before a wicked grin spread over his face. Lily's smile faded, for he looked entirely mischievous, hazel eyes twinkling. "Because otherwise," and in an instant, he was out of his chair, book aside. A split second later, his hands were drifting over her, tickling her mercilessly.
She squealed, pulling away from him and attempting to run to the opposite side of the room. However, his arms quickly engulfed her as he continued his cheerful tickling.
"Stop!" Lily cried between giggles.
"Say it," he insisted, avoiding her light slaps.
She laughed harder, writhing as the giggles erupted from her. "Stop!" She shrieked again, knowing it was useless.
His grin, behind her, broadened. "Only when you say it," he whispered, head now bent so his breath whispered over her neck, causing her to laugh harder and the gentle sensation.
She hardly had the breath for words, and though she protested several more times, he simply ignored her. At last, being able to stand it no longer, Lily gasped, "Stop James!"
He laughed gently at her, relinquishing her from his grip. She stepped dizzily, then went to the sofa, quite out of breath. Smiling, he sunk into the cushion beside her. "Now," he said cheerily, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"
She smiled, and then turned her eyes towards him, though not her face. Smiling, she whispered under her breath, "Potter."
"Lily," he whined, drawing out the vowels as he spoke.
"Potter," she repeated swiftly.
"Lily," he tried again.
Just as he was finishing the "y" she cut in, "Potter."
He paused, tilted his head, and then smirked. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Lily Potter."