Unofficial Portkey Archive

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~ A Sparrow's Requiem ~

By: Oy! Angelina

Beta By: jkit10

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James had abandoned the pitch stumbling for balance and gasping for air. He thought he had heard his teammates calling out behind him but he couldn't have been too sure. He was running and everything was so dizzying. James vaguely remembered returning to the school, and he had somehow managed to find his way into one of the forgotten corridors in the castles.

Bumping into every wall and column along the way, finding no support for his uncooperative legs, James felt as though he was swimming… or at least his head was. His breaths passed through his lungs too quickly. He was only remotely aware that he was clutching the binder Lestrange and Tudor had sent him, white-knuckled in his hand.

James didn't know where he was heading, but soon he found himself in an alcove where no light was permitted and no warmth was welcomed. It was dusty and damp and seemingly condemning of any life within it. Everything was so claustrophobic at the moment, making James feel like he was buried alive in a catacomb of stone.

It was like a tomb.

James found a disturbing comfort in such a thought.

He heard an odd, strangling noise. Glancing wildly around, James realized it had come from him. His back pressed against the cold, uneven bricks of stone behind him as his legs began to slide out beneath him. The sharp thud of the book dropping from his hand and to the ground interrupted the sound of his frantic breathing. Even though it was completely dark, James was certain that his vision was fading into black.

It was then James passed out.

* * *

Since acquiring Winifred Wilkes's diary, Mary Tudor had been completely consumed with unlocking the secrets guarded within it by the other girl's projected ego. As of the moment, Mary was completely without luck in getting the book to open to her, and it left Mary taxing her wits to get it talking. Having no interest in returning to watch his girlfriend drive herself up a wall and recognizing he had no means of talking her down from it, Aaron decided to abandon the Slytherin dorms for a bit as he returned from the Owlry.

Seeking out Tristan Travers and Evan Rosier, the pair of Hufflepuffs that had served as reasonable company to keep during his isolated days in Slytherin, Aaron decided to make it an evening with the chaps as the three toured the halls purposelessly. Tristan seemed content just to be walking around in Aaron's company while Evan offered the impression that he was mostly just going along with his friend. Still, they engaged in a casual conversation as they navigated the corridors and ended up seated in the courtyard at the heart of Hogwarts castle.

They exchanged dialogue over the otherwise trivial things that preoccupy a young wizard's mind: music, Quidditch teams, and witches (mostly witches), in the usual casual manner that most seventeen year-old boys discuss such things.

That was until they were interrupted.

"LESTRANGE!" A voice shouted from one of the archways.

Expecting Potter or Black, possibly even the unlikely chance of either Lupin, Pettigrew, or Evans, Aaron was slightly surprised to see Cassidy Kinkade, the Gryffindor team Beater and an otherwise unimpressive specimen of what some wizarding families allowed themselves to carry on as. The Amazonian girl was trailed by Gwen McGinnis and Bronwyn Weaver, a couple of Muggle-borns who required no further classification in Aaron's mind.

"What do you want, Kinkade?" Aaron asked dismissively.

He was saving his energy for dealing with Potter and his little group and didn't feel like wasting his breath on a handful of Gryffindor girls and their hissy mood swings. Aaron was just grateful that no one but they were currently occupying the courtyard otherwise he would have been more cross.

"Where's yer lesser half?" Kinkade spoke while grinding her teeth as she stomped right up to the spot Aaron had taken on a bench with Evan and Tristan.

Rising to his feet, Aaron's stormy eyes narrowed on the black girl who was just a bit shorter than himself.

"I'll thank you NOT to refer to my girlfriend in such a coarse tongue." Aaron reprimanded while taking note of Tristan and Evan joining him at either side.

"Always a hot button with ye, isn't it, Lestrange? That fussy little shrew who's got a leash so tightly coiled around yer neck ye barely notice how much she's choking ye with it." Kinkade taunted with her usual barbed words, "Doesn't matter. I can deal with just ye now."

Without any further words, Kinkade disrobed from the outer part of her Quidditch uniform and tossed it off to Weaver along with her broom then began to take of her wrist bracers with the intent to pass them to McGinnis. Evan and Tristan exchanged a set of uncertain looks and shrugs while Aaron felt his eyebrow rise.

"What are you doing?" Aaron demanded of the girl's bizarre actions.

"What does it look like, ye git?" Kinkade laughed without humor as she rolled up her sleeves, "I'm getting ready teh throw down with ye."

Wagering this meant that the Gryffindor girl intended to fight him, Aaron's mind began to process this absurd notion.

"You're joking," Aaron snorted, but looked more than uncomfortable with the suggestion. "I don't fight with my fists and if I did it most certainly wouldn't be with girls. . . even ones as unladylike as you, Kinkade. Now quit embarrassing the both of us."

Cracking her knuckles before bringing her fists up in front of her, Cassidy kept her eyes fixed on Lestrange.

"Yer about teh get embarrassed by a girl stomping on yer arse if ye don't put your hands up right now," Kinkade warned through her teeth.

Realizing that Kinkade was very serious, Aaron's eyes began to shift uncomfortably as though he expected some solution to present itself.

"Tell her to back down," Aaron ordered at McGinnis, who could only shrug while holding Kinkade's Quidditch gloves.

"Like she'd listen to me," McGinnis shook her head. "Besides, I want to see her bloody your nose."

Obviously recognizing the lack of help that the other two girls were going to provide in the situation, Evan placed himself between Aaron and Kinkade to keep blows from being traded.

"Let's sort this out civilly," Evan pleaded, mostly to Kinkade. Both he and Cassidy Kinkade had grown up with only a moor separating their homes in Ireland and were familiar with one another before either received their acceptance letters to Hogwarts. The girl had been a hot-head then - just as she was one now - but Evan knew that Kinkade wasn't a bully in the least. "Why are you all riled anyway, Cassidy?"

"Ask yer boy here!" Kinkade urged nodding toward Aaron, "I'm dying teh know what ye did teh James Potter."

In spite of the tension that was thick in the air, Aaron's eyes lit up as he smiled to Tristan with unsuppressed glee. Tristan looked equally amused if not twice as pleased as the Slytherin boy.

"Oh bloody hell!" Tristan chuckled, "Potter must be sobbing like a girl with a skinned knee if he's got everyone as riled as this!"

Aaron sputtered laughter at the thought of this being Potter's reaction to his prank while Evan watched the two other boys, an obviously ignorant expression plastered across his lightly freckled, fair face.

"What's this about?" Evan questioned.

"Just a little collection of mementos we thought Potter might appreciate." Aaron grinned wickedly.

"Then ye helped them with whatever that was?" Kinkade glared at Tristan. "Guess I know who'll be tasting the heel of my foot next then. Don't want teh spend too much time on Lestrange, since I'm sure Tudor's got him liking a bit of the rough and tumble by now."

Aaron bristled against Kinkade's comment.

"What?" Aaron spat the word.

"No secret on who's driving the broom in your relationship, Lestrange," Kinkade gave off her own wicked grin. "Maybe it's Tudor's ears I should be boxing. Hate teh see what sissy hair pulling ye got up yer sleeve fer me."

"I've got nothing to prove to a crass tomboy who wouldn't know pureblood if it was spilling from her veins." Aaron snarled as though it were a threat.

Even stood his ground between the Slytherin and the Gryffindor as he was sure it was the only thing keeping them off one another at the moment.

"I really fail to see how this is going to solve anything," Evan groaned.

"Get out of the way, Evan," Tristan urged, "they don't need a referee in all this."

"Tristan! You should be helping me separate these two!" Evan glared at his instigating friend.

"Yes, it's not as though boxing one another is really going to make anything better," Bronwyn Weaver agreed, seemingly as uncomfortable with the impending violence as Evan. "This is really just childish."

"If anybody wanted a mudblood's opinion, one of us purebloods would have told you what it was," Tristan glared at Weaver for her interjection.

Kinkade took her eyes off Lestrange so they could burn into Tristan's just before she socked him full-force on the jaw. Tristan barely knew what hit him as his eyes rolled into his head and he fell backwards, sprawled across the ground unconscious. Everyone around Kinkade stood with wide-eyes and in mute shock.

"Now you've done it." McGinnis broke the silence with a stunned whisper, "Your kids will be serving detention because of this, you rampaging cow."

"I doubt it." Kinkade shook out her hand, still glaring at Tristan, "That would mean he'd have teh admit teh a girl pummeling him flat."

"Probably, but it's still very stupid even for a hard-headed lass like you," Evan snapped, as he went over to Tristan's side and casually inspected his friend's injuries. "You might have really hurt him, Cassidy!"

"What ye doing hanging around these vipers, Evan?" Kinkade shook her head disapprovingly. "Ye've always been a pretty nice boy since I've known ye and that was long before Hogwarts."

"I'm not the one punching people, Cassidy." Evan gave his own critical look as he returned to his feet with his fists to his side.

"That's true," Kinkade relented, "Of course I have teh wonder why ye haven't beaten me teh it."

Evan refused to look at Cassidy any longer.

"Just get out of here before someone notice this - this senselessness," Evan demanded.

* * *

Shooting one more menacing look at Lestrange so as to promise some sort of future reckoning, Cassidy turned around and walked back the way she came. Once she was sure that the boys couldn't see her, Cassidy sighed and relaxed her tense posture ever so slightly. Reaching between Bronwyn and Gwen, Cassidy began to pull her discarded sections of her Quidditch uniform back to her.

"You didn't have to punch him, you know," informed Bronwyn softly. "They're just words."

"Yeah, well words can still hurt," Cassidy grumbled, as he pulled her Quidditch robes back on.

"Probably not at much as that right jab," Bronwyn waged with a grin.

Cassidy raised her eyebrow with an entirely amused expression.

"Probably not," Cassidy chuckled.

"Thank you," Bronwyn said gratefully.

"Get on with yerself," Cassidy said dismissively, looking a bit embarrassed by the praise.

"Don't mind Cassidy, the tall stump she is," Gwen spoke in a scolding manner, "Never could take a thank you or compliment even though she's always showing off like some knight on a white horse. I swear she needs to learn that if she's going to throw down gauntlets for beauteous young maidens like ourselves, she's just going to have to learn to accept the occasional handkerchief as a token of gratitude."

"Well, modesty is an endearing quality," Bronwyn noted helpfully for Cassidy.

Looking more than a little uncomfortable from all the commentary, Cassidy swatted at Gwen for her chatty mouth with her broom. Gwen ducked out of the way, giggly merrily over her agitation of her best friend.

"What are yeh, my biographer?" Cassidy demanded. "Get lost before I kick at yeh. AND WHO ARE YEH CALLING A STUMP, YEH HOBGOBLIN?"

Gwen continued to cackle as Bronwyn produced a handkerchief and passed it into Cassidy's hand.

"A token for your good deed," Bronwyn offered in a teasing voice.

Cassidy accepted it with a laugh.

"I should choke you with this for encouraging that raving brownie over there," Cassidy informed.

Instead she placed the token in her pocket.

"Well, I should be off so I can get started on my studies for the evening," Bronwyn announced, as she took a fork off in the corridor. "I'll see you later Gwen, to work on our project. Good bye Cassidy, and thank you again!"

With that the brunette Ravenclaw trotted off in the direction of her dorms, leaving Gwen and Cassidy to finish the rest of the walk on their own. With Cassidy no longer taking wide swings at her, Gwen joined her friend by her side.

"So you like Bronwyn, huh?" Gwen asked innocently.

"What? Why do yeh think that?" Cassidy sputtered with a surprised look she couldn't hide.

"What the hell is wrong with you, you antisocial flubberworm brain!" Gwen shouted, "You seem to carry on with her just fine and talk with her normally, or what passes for normal with you anyway, as you do with me, Millie, `Bella, or Lily. God, you act like it's a crime punishable by obnoxiousness to like anyone outside of Gryffindor!"

"Oh," Cassidy said, "I - never mind, I like Bronwyn fine enough."

"Good, because she likes you too," Gwen beamed approvingly.

"Yeah?" Cassidy eyed her friend curiously.

"Yeah," Gwen nodded, "she talks about how grand she thinks you are all the time. She swears you're more posh than half the boys at this school."

"We'll I am," Cassidy replied with a hint of a smile.

* * *

James's eyes fluttered open, wide and alarmed.

He glanced around, attempting to recall where he was. It took a few strings of fuzzy thought to bring James back to where he had been before he had fainted. He was still breathing heavily, but nowhere near as rapidly as he had been before passing out. Uncertain of how much time had lapsed between his states of consciousness, James wasn't particularly worried. Adjusting his position against the bare, granite walls, James sighed as he worked himself into something that didn't so incredibly resemble slumping.

"Lumos," James rasped dully into the air, bringing light to the tip of his wand.

It was barely worth the effort of the words as there was nothing to see but narrow wall leading back the way he had charged through and another passage leading off to what was probably the dungeons. Putting his hand down to help push him off the floor and eventually head back to where ever it was he was supposed to be that hour, James felt the binding of the book he had received against his palm.

Every muscle froze in place on James as though his mind, body, and soul required a moment to restart themselves. Slowly drawing the homemade binder into his lap, James positioned his wand under his arm so he could use both of his hands. They shook visibly in the enchanted illumination, and were entirely uncooperative in opening the book, as four years of carefully and redundantly instituted conditioning prohibited such a thing.

James wondered if he would pass out again if he continued on with this action. Willing to risk it, James pushed the cover off to the side and stared at the first page. He was looking at a section of parchment from the Daily Prophet, yellowing slightly with its four years of age.

POTTERS MAKE FRIENDS IN THE MINISTRY AND ENEMIES OF VOLDEMORT WITH MULTIPLE ARRESTS OF DEATH EATERS

It was the front page, with both his parents smiling through the picture on it. His eyes paused on their faces.

His mother adjusted a set of glasses on her nose not unlike his, and her jet-black hair was moving around her. His father, whom James had always been told he greatly resembled as most men in his line had a tendency of doing, ran his hand through his untidy hair out of nervousness or a vain effort to smooth it out for the picture. A quote was beneath their photograph.

"We don't fear any wizard who hides their tyranny beneath revolution and their face behind a mask. With every person willing to let Voldemort step over them there will be two more willing to stand up to him." - Mister Potter commented with much verbal support of his wife when asked on whether the Auror couple was afraid of so openly protesting the Dark Lord.

Finding himself staring far too long and far too hard at the faces of his parents, James urged himself to turn to the next page.

PURE-BLOOD WIZARDS FIGHTING FOR CHANGE - POTTER FAMILY MAKING WAVES IN THE MINISTY WITH MUGGLE-BORN POLICIES

His eyes scanned the article that spoke of his paternal aunt and a few of his elder cousins' outlines for raising consciousness making muggle-borns no longer such second-class citizens in the eyes of the public.

"I'm often asked how I can be so concerned with such trivial politics while dark sorcerers are coming out of the woodwork, and I often say that if we put an end to such ignorance and bigotry we'll be cutting Voldemort and his puppets off at the knees!"

POTTER PATRIARCH PHILANTHROPIST HELPS PAY MUGGLE-BORN WAY

James read on about how his grandfather gave a small fortune of galleons to Hogwarts to be sure that any muggle-borns accepted who couldn't afford their magical education would have the means to pursue on anyway. Like the articles before his, it had a quote:

"Not even the most venerable of witches and wizards can hope to grasp the potential and possibilities of magic that a child is capable of. I do not think of this as a donation, since it is simply an investment in all our world's future."

Turning the page, James felt his blood run cold all over again.

POTTERS DIE NOBLELY IN SERVICE AS AURORS - AN EMPIRE AND A FAMILY MOURNS

James attempted to continue past the headline but his eyes began to sting so sharply with welling tears that he couldn't right away.

Placing his hand in between the pages to mark his place for when he was ready to return to it, James heard his sobs cut through the air and linger as echoes in the corridors as he openly cried for his loss in four years.

* * *

Taking advantage of the usual solitude the Hogwarts conservatory had to offer when not in use, Sirius and Winifred were seated upon the piano bench in the center of the room with their charms texts in front of them. Losing interest in working on their assignment for Defense Against the Dark Arts, the two attempted to complete their homework but found that something or another managed to continuously distract them from the task and leave the two chuckling over school gossip or sarcastic jokes.

No longer capable of even putting up the pretense of studying, Sirius shut his book and began keying the piano listlessly to occupy himself.

"See? Isn't this more entertaining that working with Snape?" Sirius insisted without any modesty.

"Amusing, yes. However, it's not productive in the least," Winifred sighed, "You're horrible at getting off topic."

"Actually, it's because I'm so good at it that we're not getting any work done," Sirius corrected literally, inspiring Winifred to chuckle some more.

"Fair enough," Winifred contested, "I wonder why Meeks asked Severus to work with her. Is it because they've been partnering so much in potions?"

"I'd imagine that's why she agreed to it, but I doubt Millicent asked Snape," Sirius contributed to Winifred's train of thought, "Millicent isn't the forward type in the most remote sense of the word. She typically waits for someone to offer to work with her since she's so shy."

"I wonder if that's the girl Severus may fancy," Winifred mused, causing Sirius to make an ill face.

"I certainly hope not," Sirius scowled, "I think of Millicent almost like a sister. I'd probably die if those two started seeing one another."

"Well I doubt anything will come from it," Winifred reassured, "For as shy as Meeks may be, Severus is doubly reclusive. I believe he'd find the constant presence of someone, romantic or no, to be a major intrusion on his life."

"Thanks Win, you just gave me hope that Snape will die alone," Sirius replied gratefully.

Winifred chose not to comment to avoid contributing to the outstanding feud between the two boys. Suddenly curious of the time, Winifred investigated her wristwatch.

"It's near ten," Winifred announced as she closed her book and placed it in her bag.

"That would be the hour of sequestering us to our house commons," Sirius rolled his eyes as he mimicked Winifred's actions. "You'd think that they would be able to trust us older years to get to bed on our own."

"I've always said there was a lack of trust going around in the world," Winifred shrugged, as she took route towards the dungeons. "Anyway, this would mark the end of our evening so I suppose I'll say my goodnight to you and see you tomorrow."

"It's alright, I'll walk you a bit," Sirius offered nonchalantly.

Climbing down from the tower and entering into the third story corridor, Sirius and Winifred began to place distance between themselves and the conservatory. A pair of Ravenclaws hurried past them towards their dormitories. Sirius kept up alongside Winifred with a lopsided grin as he stretched out, more than sore from being hunched over books for a majority of the evening.

It occurred to Sirius that he didn't really know a whole lot about Winifred Wilkes. He knew things about her, sure, like trivial facts and passing thoughts, the sort of unimpressive awareness any person could have about anyone, but he really didn't know much about her as a person. What her thoughts or feelings were like. Consumed with interest in this, as most things that occurred to Sirius had a habit of doing, Sirius recalled a technique Aurora used in her work as an analyst when working with small children.

"Well if it's the end of the night, then how about you tell me a fable?" Sirius requested.

"Pardon?" Winifred turned towards Sirius, eyeing him curiously.

"You know, it's customary to tell someone a story before bedtime. Why not have your hand at spinning one," Sirius encouraged, "We could use something entertaining after all that studying."

"You mean procrastinating," Winifred corrected.

"You and your cleverly minced words," said Sirius, still grinning. "Come on, tell us a tale."

Winifred's smile grew awkward, evidently uncomfortable with Sirius's suggestion.

It wasn't Sirius's intention to make Winifred uneasy by his prompting, but Aurora had explained that people express themselves in subtle ways through things most people never pick up on. A person's art or the way they keep their room, even how they tell a story, could say so much about a person's soul that they would never otherwise mention.

Sirius wondered what stories Winifred knew.

"Darling, the only fictional stories people like myself know how to weave aren't enchanting or romantic anymore than they are popular," Winifred shook her head, "We know masterfully worded webs of lies that ensnare all those that hear them so tightly that they can't even feel us spider our way into them to begin to suck out everything worthwhile inside, until all they have to show is the hollow promise of something they never could have."

Sirius blinked in response to this, chilled by the morbid turn of the conversation. Still, he managed a supportive smile and placed one of hands atop the girl's shoulder.

"It doesn't matter if a story starts out grim, luv," informed Sirius gently, "The real reason people keep on hanging about is to see if there's a happy ending in spite of it all."

Winifred bit her lip as she inhaled deeply, considering Sirius's words. Keeping her eyes fixed on a section of windows as they strolled through a walkway, Winifred saw a flock of birds pass across the moon calling out to one another as they passed. Straightening up slightly, Winifred threw up one of her usually coy smiles Sirius was beginning to assume was as default as his own broad ones as she carefully parted her glossy lips.

"Once, in a time and a land far from this, there was an egg that fell from a tree and out hatched a little sparrow who couldn't get back into her nest," Winifred began in a smooth and knowing voice. "She could hear her mother and her father and her brothers and sisters chatting to each other so high above but she never heard her name. She would spend all her days looking up and watched her family fly up and away but soon the little sparrow realized that they never looked down."

"They forgot about her, then?" Sirius felt his smile shift from his face as he listened, but his eyes never left Winifred.

"That's what the little sparrow assumed," Winifred continued on, "so she decided she didn't much feel like being a sparrow anymore as sparrows are so easily forgotten. So she spied a mouse nearby and decided that is what she would be and she turned into a mouse. She clung to the shadows and watched everyone in silence. She learned and saw many things without anyone ever knowing that she was there."

"Was she happy as a mouse?" asked Sirius.

"No," Winifred replied softly, "because the little mouse soon realized that mice were always caught and always harmed by bigger things. So the mouse became a wolf and no longer needed to be quiet and unnoticed because she was strong and dangerous. The wolf preyed on everything beneath her to make her even stronger and even more dangerous; however, none of this made her happy either."

"Why? She didn't have to worry anymore, did she?" Sirius continued to question.

"No, but she realized she was a lone wolf and that made her sad. So she saw some humans and decided that's what she would be like because there were so many of them and they all lived together. So the wolf became a human, walking, talking, and living just like all the other humans did."

"And then she found some friends." Sirius guessed at the outcome.

"No," Winifred corrected. "She found that humans only pretend to be close to one another because they are really nothing but lone wolves who hunt the weak, or timid mice who spend their lives worrying if they'll be noticed, or forgotten sparrows who can't find their way back to their nests and have no one to look for them."

Sirius felt a knot twisting like a thorny vines within the pit of his stomach as he almost was afraid to ask:

"So what did she do?"

Winifred smiled at Sirius thinly as she met his eyes. Sirius knew she wasn't crying and knew she had no intention to. It was probably for the best because the tragedy he could see behind them was the sort that no amount of tears could ever do justice to. Sighing, Winifred blinked and the tragedy was gone.

"She turned back into a sparrow," Winifred revealed.

"Why did she do that?" Sirius wondered.

"Because the little sparrow discovered that she could become anything in the world, only to eventually realize that everything is miserable. At least, if she stayed a sparrow, she would know what she was. And even though that might not always be the most ideal thing, she would always have the certainty of knowing who she was underneath it all," Winifred explained almost with a happy hint to her voice.

"So the little sparrow took flight for the first time in her life and flew up the tree she had fallen from only to find there had never been a nest to return home to. She had never had a mother or a father or brothers or sisters; she had always been the one and only sparrow. And knowing that she was something that unique unto herself made all the difference in the world."

Sirius felt himself sigh, almost in relief at the end of the story as he found himself smiling once more at Winifred.

"That sounds like a happy ending to me," Sirius decided.

"I suppose it does," Winifred agreed before thoughtfully adding, "or at least it has the potential of finding one."

"Well, it's a little bit different from the stories I used to hear as a lad," Sirius confessed, "My dad would tell me marvelous tales about gallant adventurers and my eldest sister would give me fairy stories about lovely princesses being saved by dashing princes."

"I never heard those as a child," Winifred divulged.

Sirius looked slightly taken aback by this.

"Really? Those are the best sorts. It's all about how these decent women find themselves in a horrible spot and a noble chap comes along, utterly vanquishes what's been haunting the maiden, and they are both free to fall in love with one another and never have a care again," said Sirius fondly.

Winifred placed a hand on her hip with an amused look.

"And how does riding off with some boy on his white steed actually solve the princess's problems?" Winifred demanded with a chuckle.

"Perhaps I'm not explaining the `vanquishing' part of this all that well," Sirius laughed.

"No, what I mean is, if the most a woman is expected to do is wait around for some prince to happen by and save her when it occurs to him then she'll be in a lot more trouble than any supposed peril she's presently facing," Winifred clarified with a chuckle. "That's why I never heard those stories."

"Okay then," Sirius gave up, "what stories did you hear?"

"Severus's mother used to tell me about how she'd duel or hex anyone who ever dared to cross her and she never learned how to accept failure, only how to accept setbacks," said Winifred.

Sirius made a face at the mention of such life lessons but simply shrugged it off when he realized that they had arrived at the dungeons.

"Well, I guess this is goodnight then," Sirius observed the obvious, for both their benefit, "Want to get together tomorrow for some more studying or whatever?"

"That'll be fine, but if you want a story then I'll expect you to make up one for yourself," Winifred agreed conditionally.

"Fair enough," Sirius nodded.

Sirius might have questioned if there was something more he had wished he would have said or done with Winifred that moment but the sense of an additional presence compelled him only to glance over his shoulder and observe Snape making his way directly towards himself and Winifred. Sucking in a breath to ready himself for the usually fury of words, Sirius felt his eyes narrow and placed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't be tempted to use them.

"Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for being out past curfew," Severus informed Sirius with a superior expression that grew even more satisfied as Sirius's became indignant.

"Bullocks to that! I've got three whole minutes by my watch," Sirius argued.

"Perhaps it's fast," Severus offered mockingly before turning to Winifred, "Go to bed."

Winifred crossed her arms with a slightly annoyed expression.

"Is that really necessary, Severus?" Winifred questioned.

Severus glared at Winifred with a cold set of eyes.

"Five points from Slytherin for questioning my authority as Prefect," Severus answered.

"It wasn't your position as Prefect I was questioning," Winifred's voice lowered.

"It's disappointing that you could select no other member of our year work with on this project aside from him," Severus spoke as though Sirius were not still present, "The last thing you need to have his poor influence rubbing off upon you. Now kindly retire to your dorms for the evening."

"Yes Winifred, you'd best be off to bask in the positive influences of your Slytherin housemates," Sirius interjected sarcastically, never taking his eyes off Snape. "I can see how your concerned cousin here would greatly prefer you following in the grand footsteps of Mary Tudor and her bunch."

"Did I ask your opinion, Black?" Severus sneered.

"I don't really need your permission to give it, Snape," Sirius replied haughtily.

Growing uncomfortable as she stood between the crossfire, Winifred adjusted her bag over her should.

"Goodnight, the both of you," Winifred extended before she abandoned the boys.

They barely noticed she had left.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Snape hissed through his teeth.

Sirius smirked mockingly.

"Aren't you the touchy sort," Sirius decided, "I was just seeing her back. Certainly nothing worth you spitting venom over."

"I would be far more put out by all this, Black, if I didn't possess an immense amount of confidence that Winifred wouldn't ever lower herself to sharing your presence past that of a passing amusement," Snape smiled coldly.

"I don't know, mate, you seem pretty put out by a whole lot of nothing to me," Sirius smiled back, "Besides, even if there was anything, it's not your place to be bothered. You don't have the same righteously indignant leg to stand on as you did with Florence."

Returning to a deepened scowl, Snape leaned in closer towards Sirius. Sirius didn't budge from his spot on the tile and swore to himself that he would knock Snape a few sections back if he got any closer to him, Prefect badge or no.

"And why should I, in any way, approve of someone I consider to be practically a sister sneaking about with the loathsome likes of you?" Snape inquired.

"Because, first off, she's not `sneaking with me'," Sirius started off, "But, most importantly mind you, my complete and genuine dislike of you does not extend to Winifred. So, my self-absorbed fiend, THAT would mean that it has absolutely nothing to do with our bad blood and that would make it none of your damn business to protest against."

To Sirius's surprise, Snape began to smile in response to his declaration.

"You know something amusing about your little speech, Black?" Snape questioned, a little too happily.

"What?" Sirius spat out the single syllable of the word, tired of the Slytherin's games.

"Well. . .perhaps you'll find as much humor in your words on some later day," Snape grinned like a viper before turning on his heel and striding down the halls back towards the Slytherin dorms.

"I'll look forward to that, you daffy bastard," Sirius muttered under his breath, uncertain of how to react to his nemesis's peculiar behavior.

Heading back to Gryffindor tower, Sirius spied a single bird dart across the sky and wondered what kind it happened to be.

* * *

When James reentered the body of the castle he found the torches were lit in the corridors and night had fallen. He kept the book of clipping at the side of his Quidditch robes as he walked through them. Judging from the lack of students and faculty passing by about, James could guess it was near curfew if not past.

A voice from confirmed James's suspicions.

"It is a little late for you to be wandering about, isn't it James?" Professor Dumbledore asked over James's shoulder, "I fear you would be in a small amount of trouble if you were caught by someone with disciplinary authority."

James turned fully around. He hadn't been aware that Dumbledore had been behind him but, then again, that wasn't all that much of a surprise to James. In spite of his position as Headmaster, he addressed James without any hint of chiding to his words and made them nothing more than a simple observation as he moved closer. James kept the binder held firmly to his side, attempting not to draw any unnecessary attention to it and hoping Dumbledore would not comment upon it.

"So… do I have a detention then?" James questioned with a somewhat indifferent voice. He was far too worn to truly care about such trivial things at the moment.

"Oh no, my boy," Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled from over his half-moon glasses. "I have never considered myself to be much of an authority on discipline, not when it appears to me that people are in more need of a tender hand than a firm fist. In truth, I have found that many people are often far better at punishing themselves than any other soul could manage. . .tragically and ironically, these types of people are rarely the ones who deserve such harsh treatment."

"I don't know about that, Professor," James disagreed. "I think there's plenty of perfectly wretched people who have little trouble sleeping after all the horrible things they've done in their day. They leave everyone else to worry about the weight of their deeds without a second thought."

"This is very true for some individuals James; although, we cannot allow ourselves to feel responsible for the choices others make otherwise such empathy would consume us whole," the venerable wizard spoke in a gentle voice. "Is that what is troubling you, James?"

"I'm just… just having one of those lives, Professor," James smiled the same shallow smile that he had been offering everyone else at Hogwarts for nearly a week now.

It didn't seem to want to hold so well with Dumbledore.

"I see," Professor Dumbledore nodded sympathetically, "You know, a great many people have expressed considerable concern for you. Your withdrawn disposition as of late is most uncharacteristic of you, James."

James shrugged as he placed his hands into the pockets of his robes.

"Everyone's entitled to a bad spell now and again, I suppose, sir," said James, "It's nothing to worry yourself with, considering how much you must have on your mind between the school and Voldemort. I'll be alright, honest."

Pacing off a bit, Professor Dumbledore approached a window and stared out it with a thoughtful expression that could peek the curiosity of the world. James cautiously approached the Headmaster, avoiding anything that could resemble eye contact.

"Did you know, James, that some witches and wizards have begun to shun the use of Voldemort's name?" Dumbledore inquired curiously.

"I know children and some of the muggle-borns have taken to calling him You-Know-Who or something of the like," James commented. "I figured it was mostly out of ignorance, you know. Superstitious belief and all that."

"Adults are just as capable of ignorance as children, in fact I believe more so," Professor Dumbledore divulged, with a slight frown over his face. "With every person afraid to utter Voldemort's name, he is triumphant in a minor victory for his unscrupulous cause. It shows just how much power he has over our world and many aren't even aware that they are providing him with it."

James moved to join Professor Dumbledore at his side, staring at the profile of the wise mentor of Hogwarts.

"How are things going, Professor? The war, I mean," pressed James. "So little is said in the Daily Prophet and I know Hogwarts is safe but I feel cut off from the outside world at times. I'm curious to know how we're fairing against Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

"Things are quiet for the moment. Voldemort's campaign has cost him many dark wizards, rewarded with death or Azkaban for their service to him. He chose some very powerful… very beloved families to act against and the resistance and repercussions of such attacks has greatly thinned his ranks," explained Dumbledore, as he turned his eyes on James and found the young man staring at the floor.

"So… things are good then?" asked James.

"I said things are quiet James, as they always are before the storm," Professor Dumbledore gently corrected, "Lord Voldemort has lost many of his senior supporters. He had been looking to replenish his ranks with young blood, namely witches and wizards who only just recently finished their training. He exploits their eagerness to prove themselves and their ambitions or resentment for the established order. So many lost and naïve people barely older than yourself are following a tyrant's vision."

James thought of people like Tudor, Macnair, Lestrange, and others he shared classes and corridors with, people who would be all to thrilled to hide behind masks as pale as bone and robes as dark as death dispensing torment and carnage as though they were walking, childish gods. An ill feeling seized James's stomach as he briefly pondered the damage his own peers could possibly inflict or had inflicted upon him and those he was close to.

James wondered how many people he would call friends would perish to those he had resented since his 1st year. He additionally wondered if there would be friends who would betray him and people who he had misjudged strive to be redeemed.

"And what would the Ministry have done?" asked James in a hollow note.

"In anticipation for the inevitable strikes Voldemort is rallying to make against us and our ways, the Ministry is entertaining a variety of solutions and measures to come to our aid," Professor Dumbledore informed, "Some are promising. . .others are concerning. It concerns me to know that several prominent members within our own faction would resort to means as atrocious as Voldemort and his Death Eaters to assure his downfall. Becoming the things we fear and despise most is never a wise solution."

James felt his head shaking as though it were independent of the rest of hit body.

"Death Eaters are nothing more generous that fools and sadists," James spat hatefully. He knew he had heard everything Dumbledore had just said and he wanted to agree with it, but James just couldn't muster the will. Four years of his life felt as though they had been ripped from him and replaced with some dark and twisted rendition of the way everything was meant to be.

"The first thing I'll do after Hogwarts, after I become an Auror, will be to round up every last one of those death dealers and that monster leading them. I'll make sure they pay with interest for all the hearts they've broken, souls they've torn, and lives they've stolen. They want to eat death? I'll give them enough to choke on!"

James's breathing was ragged through his mouth as he just kept glaring at the floor in front of him. He didn't want to look at Professor Dumbledore or anyone he respected or loved. The rage and malice he was feeling was something he couldn't bear for those he cared most for to see reflected in his eyes. James hadn't realized he had been trembling with his seething anger until Dumbledore placed a hand upon his shoulder.

"Myself and the Ministry will have a great use for your intelligence, skill, and determination in the future James, however, I can find no value in your vengeance. I realize how hard it is to maintain honor when it appears we have too little to remain righteous for, but you do have things, James. A good name, loyal friends, fond admirers, and at least one person who genuinely loves you," Professor Dumbledore reminded James of the sorts if things that should never remain long forgotten, "The pain you feel will never leave you James, but it will diminish. And I fear that it will never do so simply on its own. The most you can ever do for these sorts of feelings is repress or ignore them until they resurface at inopportune occasions for inappropriate amounts of time."

"So you think I should talk to someone about… about my family's death?" James wondered in a voice that showed he didn't sound all that fond of pursuing such a suggestion.

"Yes, I do," Dumbledore nodded as a show of agreement, "However, I think you need to talk to someone who is willing to listen to what you have to say as I suspect that you haven't always found this in the past."

"Someone like you?" James guessed.

"I would be willing to if that is what you desire James, although I feel there are people aside from myself who not only wish to share your life but its burdens as well. That sort of rapport… those sorts of people are the ones who help us meet each day and find something worthwhile to be had from it. They are the ones who support us when we find ourselves not strong enough to support ourselves." Professor Dumbledore spoke in genuine heartfelt belief.

"I understand what you mean, Professor," James replied, in a soft voice. "You wouldn't be offended if I returned to Gryffindor Tower now, would you? You see, I think there is someone who has been waiting far too long and far too patiently to listen to me."

"Not at all James, provided you promise to seek solace somehow in the sorrow you carry," Dumbledore smiled to James, in a mixture of encouragement and sympathy.

"I intend to," James promised. "Good evening, Professor."

"And a better one to you, James."

* * *

Lily was fairly confident that the last of her charges were on their way back to the dorms before curfew when Sirius sauntered into Gryffindor Tower five minutes past the hour.

"Hullo Lily," Sirius greeted, "seen James about?"

"No," Lily's expression drooped. "I was hoping you might know. He's not in the tower and the last anyone saw of him was during Quidditch practice."

"Isn't that a funny sort of thing," Sirius apparently refused to share Lily's distress on the matter, but taking note of his he kindly added, "I wouldn't worry about it luv. I didn't see him at dinner so he might be wrangling some food from the kitchen or went out to Hogsmeade for a break in routine. He's been like some super-student this week. Might be taking the edge off."

"Maybe," Lily considered, without enthusiasm. "He was supposed to meet up with me, though."

"I'm sure he's on his way," Sirius smiled, as he ruffled Lily's long hair. "James isn't thick enough to leave a pretty girl waiting. He knows that's an invitation for me to just snatch her clean up."

"Fresh," Lily said dryly, but found herself smiling a bit at Sirius's always playful show of flirting.

"Well I try," Sirius nodded. "See you in the morning."

"You too, Sirius."

He disappeared up the stairs, and Lily trailed in a dragging pace up to the girls dormitories. Entering into the 6^th year area, Lily motioned for Cassidy to join her in the hallway for a moment. Obliging, the tall girl followed Lily out in her baggy dress pajamas.

"What's up?" Cassidy questioned as she tightened the drawstrings of her pants over her hips.

"I just wanted to apologize for not being able to investigate that thing you asked me to last week," Lily said, purposefully cryptic, "I've just been very preoccupied with… well, I don't want to make excuses so I'll just say that I intend to put my efforts into it straight away."

"Huh?" Cassidy stared at the rambling Prefect dumbly before she caught on. "Oh, yeah, yeh can forget about that."

"Pardon?" Lily asked.

"Yeah, never mind," Cassidy said as she patted Lily on the shoulder, "Don't put yerself out."

"What - it's not a problem for me, really," Lily rephrased, "I'm more than willing to help you out - "

"And yeh'd be doing that best by not helping me out," Cassidy clarified. "The thing of it is Lily, is I just probably made myself very unpopular with some Slytherins and Hufflepuffs this afternoon, and the last thing I need is them getting wind of any sensitive underbelly I might possess. I shouldn't be looking fer anything now… not with my marks being so mediocre, and if I decided teh I should be woman enough teh look fer it myself."

Lily scratched her head as she wondered when this all came about.

"What about Wilkes?" Lily inquired. "Did something happen to discourage you there?"

"No, I still think she's pretty interesting, but I don't really know her so there's not a whole lot of love lost there. If something happens, it will, but there's no sense in me leaping out on limbs until I know what I'm reaching fer," Cassidy shrugged ambivalently. "I just want teh have something worthwhile if I'm going teh make a spectacle of myself. Maybe that's with Wilkes… maybe that's with someone else."

Lily felt herself smiling at this epiphany of Cassidy's.

"That's always been something endearing of you, Cassidy," Lily remarked, "You're honest with everyone, most of all yourself."

"Yeah well don't pat me on the back too hard," Cassidy smirked, "If I was so bloody honest we wouldn't be whispering in the hall like a couple scoundrels in the night."

"Fair enough," Lily chuckled, before she got something of a serious expression on her face. "You haven't seen James have you? I mean, since Quidditch?"

Cassidy's expression became suddenly stony.

"Ah, no one mentioned it teh yeh yet, yeh poor lass," Cassidy sighed, not wishing to be the harbinger of bad news.

"What is it?" Lily pressed.

"Tudor and Lestrange had some help from Travers in messing about with James," Cassidy explained through a frown, "They sent him something that really upset him."

"What?" Lily demanded, eyes wide.

"Dunno," Cassidy admitted, sounding a bit disappointed with herself. "I think yeh should talk with him though, if yeh don't mind my saying so."

"We were supposed to… " Lily divulged. "I should probably wait for him in my room."

"Okay," Cassidy replied simply as she and Lily parted ways.

Taking the steps quickly to the Prefect's chambers, Lily opened her door and found James standing off by her dresser flipping intently through some sort of makeshift book. He was only aware of her presence when she shut the door behind her. Looking up, James placed the book down on the dresser.

Lily had never seen James look more horrible in all their time together, even when he had stayed awake for three days straight and was completely ragged over the future of their relationship. His eyes had dark circles and were puffy as though he decided to cry for a week in the stead of sleep. He was pale and his hair was horribly unkempt, even for James.

"Hey," James greeted weakly.

"Hey," Lily returned softly.

"We should talk," James decided.

"We should," Lily agreed.

* * *

Peter exited the bathroom connected to the 6^th year boys' dorm and found Remus and Sirius pulling their pajamas on while trading various tales concerning their day. Giving them matching dirty looks, Peter stomped over to his corner of the room and placed his sundries into their appropriate places. Remus evidently caught the glare as he took his attentions off Sirius to eye his friend.

Sensing Remus's amber eyes, Peter addressed his roommates.

"Well I hope the pair of you are satisfied," said Peter in a low voice. Both his arms and tone were completely cross as he stared at Remus and Sirius.

"What did we do NOW?" Sirius laughed to Remus, as he kicked his book bag off his bed. Remus shrugged in response while kicking off his slippers.

"Don't tell me you're still mad at us because YOU decided it would be right fun to set off a crate of filibusters in a brush and got a detention for it," Remus muttered.

"That's not it at all!" Peter shook his head with a scowl. "Since I have the luxury of not being distracted by anything or anyone, I'm just irked beyond cause because I'm the only one who's been able to notice just how sorry a state our supposed friendships are in!"

Sirius stopped laughing as the smile fell off his face like a flat note on the piano. Remus's brow began to knit itself in mounting concern. Peter managed the full attention of the two other Gryffindor boys rather effectively.

"Peter, is this because the lot of us have girlfriends and you don't?" Remus questioned in a sympathetic voice. Sirius shot Remus a standoffish glare.

"I don't have a girlfriend," Sirius remarked.

Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"No, the only thing you DON'T have is a lack of denial," Remus insisted. "You're just being your usual cheeky self on the matter of Wilkes. We're all just waiting for you to get the Owl along with the rest of us. My guess is Wilkes also."

Sirius threw his arms into the air and began to stomp about like a child throwing a tantrum over everyone ignoring what he was saying.

"Nous sommes seulement des amis. Wir sind nur Freunde. We. Are. Just. Friends. I can't get any more bloody clear than that since I don't know any other languages!" Sirius announced in a riled and sarcastic voice with a gesture in Peter's direction, "Now drop the subject before you get ol' Wormtail off and running on his usual rant of Winifred being Medusa with flattering make-up."

Peter raised his wand and emitted a sharp crack of sound along with a flare of light to catch both Remus's and Sirius's attention.

"Bugger off, you narcissist! This has NOTHING to do with the ASTOUNDING life and times of Sirius Black," Peter barked at Sirius shortly, before turning his eyes on Remus, "And this isn't about getting you all to put on a pity party for poor, pathetic Peter Pettigrew!"

Sirius gaped at Peter with an impressed expression.

"Bloody Hell! Say that ten times fast, mate!" Sirius grinned, but abruptly stopped once he saw Peter's scowl.

"This is about James," Peter finished, evidently not too happy with the frequent interruptions.

"But James has a girlfriend," Sirius pointed out dumbly, missing whatever Peter was going for with this.

"ARE YOU NATURALLY THIS THICK OR DO YOU PRACTICE IN YOUR SPARE TIME!" Peter began pitching anything close to him, from pillows to books, in Sirius's direction. Jumping around to avoid being pelted, Sirius stared in surprise at Peter's outburst as Remus crossed the room and began fighting Peter for an alarm clock he was aiming at Sirius.

"KNOCK IT OFF!" Remus commanded, as he won out in the struggle. "You're acting mad, Peter! What are you going on about?"

"I'm just GLAD James does have Lily," Peter's face was red and his breathing labored as the started to storm about the room as he ranted. Sirius and Remus kept their eyes glued to their friend just in case he decided on making some more makeshift projectiles out of the items in their room.

Stopping suddenly, Peter pointed accusingly at Sirius

"As of this moment, Prongs could have greatly used his best friend to get him to crack a smile or otherwise take his mind off his troubles, but you were too busy getting that - that BLASE HARPY to cackle to even notice!" Peter shouted, before turning his finger on Remus. "And YOU, you're so content on creating a reputation for public indecency with Arabella, so as to fill the hedonistic void Sirius left when he started chasing down snakes, that your much needed insight and comforting words are completely lost to James!"

Sirius blinked, stunned by these words so much that he was compelled to silence for the moment. Remus's expression would have probably been much the same if Peter had decided to slap him in the face. After a brief pause, it occurred to Sirius and Remus that they should be outraged.

"HOLD ON THERE!" Remus felt his temper waning, "Where do you get off talking to EITHER of us like that?"

"YEAH!" Sirius leapt in, "And we all know there's not a THING IN CREATION large enough to challenge my colossal ego when it comes to women. Now what the HELL has gotten into YOU?"

Peter upturned his nose with disgust.

"Did it thoroughly slip both your minds as to what this time of the year means to James?" Peter demanded with a mixture of exasperation and disappointment.

Sirius and Remus exchanged glances before each slowly dawned a realizing expression. Promptly after, the two boys looked as put out and ashamed as Peter.

"That's right," Peter nodded bitterly, "James's whole family died four years ago around this time. Every last Potter killed off in one short week . . . starting with his parents."

In a show of frustration, Sirius kicked his foot into the closest wall and made a feral noise. Remus sank onto the nearest bed, putting his head into his hands in order to cover the suddenly nauseous expression on his face.

"Haven't either of you noticed James has barely slept lately?" Peter questioned. "He just sits up, staring out the window, or he'll sneak down to the commons to read or just pace. He's been killing himself with grief!"

Sharing a chalk white complexion, Remus and Sirius turned to one another.

"Bloody hell," Sirius moaned through clenched teeth, "Do you have any idea where he is now?"

Peter shook his head. Remus pushed himself onto his feet and began to ransack the room.

"Where did we put that damn map of ours… " Remus demanded, as he rummaged through his drawers.

Peter and Sirius joined their friend in his scouring until the found the single piece of parchment next to James's invisibility cloak. Activating the paper with Sirius's wand, the layout of the castle showed that James Potter was with Lily Evans in the Gryffindor Prefect's bedroom.

"So what do we do? Try to talk to him now?" Sirius asked with uncertainty.

"I don't know. Maybe he's talking with Lily," Remus commented, "If he is, then she deserves to be with him more than any of us does. Arabella mentioned to me that Lily's been pretty concerned about him this afternoon, but I haven't even seen James since then."

"At least you had good intentions. I've been so busy listening to Winifred's problems and quarrelling with Snape I didn't even notice," Sirius admitted with a kicked dog expression, "Not that it's an excuse for either of us. Peter's right; we've been just ignoring each other in favor of our own lives. God, I knew people said that growing older and getting girls changes your friendships but I never thought it would happen to us. At least we have Wormtail here to remind us of what it means to be a good friend to someone, otherwise we'd still be fishing our heads out of each others arses on this."

"Never take friendships for granted," Peter sighed. "Not like they grow on trees."

"Well, at least someone here gets that," Remus nodded mournfully.

* * *

Lily and James stood facing one another in silence. It was as though they were so out of the habit of speaking that they had forgotten how to start. It was James who finally remembered.

"You know, I haven't been all that nice to you lately," James confessed self-consciously.

"No, you haven't," Lily agreed gently. "But I'd like to suspect you had your reasons."

"Sort of," James hung his head, "If - if it makes any difference at all, it's not as though I was setting out to hurt you. Just sort of ended up that way."

"I guessed as much," Lily nodded as she approached him, "So are you going to tell me what's been bothering you?"

James nodded in agreement but said nothing. Starting to bite his nails, James paced the room, growing more rigid and anxious with each lap. It was as though he believed something bad would happen if he attempted to relax. Lily crossed over to him and attempted to hold him in place physically by the shoulders while looking into his face.

"James, what is it? Why are you wound up like this?" Lily's voice trembled.

She hadn't seen James this distraught, this beside himself and restless, for such a long time. It seemed like Lily should have a better memory of this, but she couldn't quite grasp what it was she seemed to be recalling.

James took in a sharp breath that sounded like he was close to hyperventilating. Lily kept her hands on him in case he collapsed, hoping she would be able to support his weight if he did. She could feel him shaking beneath her grasp.

"I'm just… I thought I could handle it, you know… I thought it was like all the other times… if I just was on my own for a while… and tucked it away, then… then I'd go back to normal," James spoke with loud gasps of air splintering his sentence, "But it's not… I just kept feeling worse… and then it was a week and… and I didn't know what to do anymore. And then I got that and… "

James thrust his hand out towards the book he had carried in with him, not bothering to finish his sentence. It was more than obvious the effect it had had upon him.

"James, please sit down," Lily begged as she attempted to lead James over to her bed.

He didn't resist her efforts but he was far too agitated to be particularly helpful in going along with her. Sitting stiffly on the edge, Lily left him there so she could retrieve the binder he had indicated. Opening it to a random part, Lily read.

FORTUNE ASSURED BUT FATE UNCERTAIN FOR SOLE -SURVIVING 12 YEAR OLD POTTER HEIR - WHERE WILL IT END?

Lily felt her breath literally stolen from her as she stared blankly at the book.

THIS was what Lestrange and Tudor decided to send James? Lily was flabbergasted and close to seeing red. She knew the couple was cruel to the point of being utterly unconscionable but this was beyond anything Lily would have given either the credit of.

It was in such poor taste Lily could retch.

If either Tudor or Lestrange had been there, Lily was sure she would have seriously attempted to hurt the both of them. Attempting to tame her rage, Lily doubted that seething over and ranting about the scrupulous Slytherins would do nothing to help James, as it was obvious he wasn't angry.

He was traumatized.

"James, I'm so sorry you had to look at this," Lily apologized, even though she wasn't at fault, "This… it's just horrible."

"It certainly wasn't what I expected to encounter," James admitted, finally finding an even spacing to his breathing, "but I'm sort of glad I did. It forced me to acknowledge something that I really don't like to whenever I'm confronted with it."

Lily set the binder back down on her dresser and joined James on the bed.

"You mean… talking about what happened to your family," Lily guessed in a careful voice.

"Yeah," James nodded.

"I rarely speak of them… and when you actually do, you're always so quick to get off topic," Lily observed. She hoped that this was encouraging James rather than giving him the impression that she was attempting to badger information out of him. She pulled his clammy hand into hers and squeezed it supportively.

"It always felt so empty when I did. People would always tell me how sorry they were and make guesses at how hard it was on me. After that they would start going on about how upset I should be… it was always too hard for me to try and keep on talking. It was like they wanted me to say what I was thinking and feeling but when I did, it became so uncomfortable for everyone, they just wanted to hurry it along," James rationalized in a faltering voice. "It got to the point where I didn't want to bring it up because I thought no one really wanted me to. That they just wanted me to grin and bear it."

"I'll be here for you however you need me to be, James," Lily vowed, unsure of what else to say.

"Could you… could you listen to me?" asked James softly, looking at Lily straight on. Tears brimmed within his eyes, just behind the frames of his glasses, as he bit into his lip to keep it from quivering uncontrollably. "Could you listen to me and not tell me how sorry you are or how much you admire me for handling it? Could you not express any sympathy or offer any words meant to comfort me? I'd like it very much if you'd just listen to me for a while."

"I can do that for you," Lily agreed, willing herself not to start crying as well. This was about James, and she feared that if she began shedding her own tears for James he would attempt to comfort her, and that was not the point of this moment.

This was James's moment.

"I was at school when my parents died, during out 2^nd year," James began the obvious story from his often neglected perspective. "It was right after spring holiday. I had just seen them not even a week before. It was impossible for me to believe. I just remember packing up some things for the next few days with Sirius, Peter, and Remus talking about how sorry they were and how they wanted to help me in any way they could. The thing was, I was carrying on as normal. Cracking jokes and making dull conversation. That's how impossible it all seemed to me at the time. I seriously got on the train back to London thinking that this wasn't really happening. Like it was a dream or a mistake and everything would sort itself out once I was in London."

James closed his eyes for a long period.

"Funny how the mind plays tricks on you like that," he sighed.

The events of the end of 2^nd year replayed themselves for Lily's benefit. Everyone in Gryffindor had learned of James's loss and everyone attempted to lend their support as they could. Lily was mostly socializing with the other girls in their year as was the usual arrangement for most children their age, but she had still known James and liked him enough to worry on his behalf. Lily remembered how numb James had seemed as he left. Not sad or broken… but not entirely there either.

Shaking his head, James picked up with his story.

"My aunts and uncles and cousins all took me back to my family manor where my grandparents were waiting for me. My parents' bodies were there as well, in our family crypt where all the remains of Potters are placed to rest with words and pictures honoring their lives. This way our family could pay final respects to our loved ones before they were placed on a consecrated pyre."

Lily remembered that wizards almost always favored a ritualistic form of cremation to deal with the dead. It prevented any flesh or bones of loved ones to be desecrated or used for dark magic. Reanimating corpses, demonic possessions, tormenting souls, and other countless atrocities were possible if a dark wizard had access to person's departed body. Nothing caused a bereaving family more grief that they were already experiencing than not being able to properly disposing of a corpse and being left to wonder what was being done with it.

Somewhere in the front of Lily's mind, James continued to speak.

"I'm not entirely sure I said anything while we were in the house and waiting for everyone else to arrive but the rest of my family wouldn't stop talking. It was like some horrible white noise that just wouldn't end. I just sat in the room listening to the senseless, meaningless talk around me until I couldn't stomach it any longer. I excused myself for the bathroom or some other lie and went out the crypt without saying a word of it."

James swallowed hard with a glazed look to his eye.

"I wanted to be where it was quiet and I knew my parents wouldn't say a single word to me again."

Lily realized that she was holding her breath. Forcing her lungs to work again properly, Lily felt a cold sweat running down her back and shivered from it.

Or, possibly, from something else.

"My parents were laid out and dressed up properly. There's always an attempt to make the dead appear decent and peaceful before they leave this world completely. We couldn't even do that for my parents," James recalled in a hollow pitch. "There wasn't a mark on them, but their expression… it was like their souls had been pulled from them and they knew it was happening. Someone had used an unforgivable curse upon my parents and there was no magic that could reverse any part of that. Still, I sat between the slabs they were laid out upon and held their hands. I don't think I cried then… I don't really think I did much of anything then… I just sat with my Mum wondering what it would be like never to hear her hum while she read the paper in the morning or trying to decide how much I'd miss my Dad attempting to tell me boring and dated stories about what things were like for him at Hogwarts."

James shifted on the bed as he struggled with the simple act of breathing in and out.

"After a few hours, the rest of the family finally tracked me down and we burned the bodies of my parents. I cried throughout the entire ceremony and didn't stop for several days. Not to eat… not to sleep… nothing."

Lily felt a few stray tears run off her cheek. She quickly swept them away with one of her hands so James wouldn't notice as she continued to listen.

"After that incident, my aunts and uncles didn't want me to be there for the will reading so I came back to school. They thought I couldn't handle the process of redistributing my parents' belongings and determining who would take custody of me," James recollected himself and continued on, "In truth, they were probably right. I don't think I could have handled it. It would have been so. . .so absolute. Like the final confirmation of how my parents were dead and I would never see them again."

James licked his lips as he hesitated.

"The Prophet called what happened next the `methodical assassination of a predominant line'. You see, my parents' deaths were only meant to be bait. To draw out every last Potter into one location and then… then blow that place up with all of them together. It's really quite clever if you think about it. I mean all the adults of my line would be at the law offices so it was a way for those Death Eaters to make sure that everyone was gone in one single swoop when no one was expecting it. Who would be so awful and heartless to murder a room full of people just after a funeral? Death Eaters, it seems."

James chuckled without humor, then he paused again.

"But I think… I think the worst was when my cousins were killed. The younger ones I mean," James said finally.

He stared out emptily at the floor in front of him. A fresh collection of sweat beaded his forehead. Lily sat silently, waiting for James to continue when he was comfortably enough. Finally blinking after the longest time, James picked up where he had left off.

"I was the only one receiving my formal schooling at Hogwarts. Those who had left before me died at the will reading. The ones who would have been admitted were at their preparatory schools and with their tutors. The Ministry had so little time to react. Investigating my parents' deaths… their murders… trying to figure out what had happened at the will reading and who had been there… in a day, Death Eaters swept across Britain and killed every last Potter and the only reason they missed me was because I was at Hogwarts. I had fourteen cousins who were no older than eleven."

It appeared as though James stopped breathing all together for a moment before he added on.

"They slaughtered children who didn't even have wands."

Lily could think of nothing to do other than squeeze James's hand supportively and stare at him without an idea of what else to do. All Lily could think of was to keep listening in silence, as it was all James had asked of her and any words that came to her mind at that moment were hollow and trite.

"When I heard that everyone in my family was dead, I was so angry," James admitted in a barely audible voice, as though it were some shameful secret, "Not so much because they were all taken from me… no, I was furious because no one saw fit to finish the job properly. I wanted to die with the rest of my family."

Lily's jaw dropped.

She was fairly sure that she was going to say something to this but James cut her off before she even had the chance.

"IT WASN'T FAIR!" James spat out in a rage that died like a candle in the wind. He relaxed slightly, evidently without the will to keep hold of that instant anger, before repeating himself.

"It wasn't fair. They killed everyone who had ever mattered to me… everyone who loved me without my ever having to earn or work for it. All but me died. It was like I was being punished worst of all because I was the only one left to mourn everyone else that the world would turn on without. It's like the fact that no one has seen fit to come along and kill me off too in four years makes me think that this is just what they set out to do. Just to be the last Potter and have that knowledge… I'd welcome death to that."

Lily felt herself blinking back tears in violent precession. She felt completely ineffectual at the moment, as she knew there was nothing she had to offer James that would ever repair the damage of this situation. All of her love and support could never deliver James from his past and Lily couldn't be sure it would ever be enough to help him through it. She knew James wasn't intending to make her feel any of these things, but it was inevitable when as she sat there and listened to the man she loved carry on about his preference of death.

"James, I never knew you felt any of these things… how do you do this?" Lily softly asked in concern and admiration. "How do you carry all this inside you and go on?"

Instead of answering her, James began to shake as though he were suddenly freezing. He hugged himself so tight Lily thought for certain that he was bruising himself. James began to make odd noises, as though he were about to be sick.

"I SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH THEM!" James sobbed as he started to break down at the seams, "Sometimes it feels like I can't breathe and I would hope I'll just stop altogether so I wouldn't have to realize how alone I am. But I'd just keep going on and all these people, Dumbledore, the Longbottoms, the Blacks, they watch out for me and protect me and I wished they would… THEY WOULD JUST LET ME DIE!"

Collapsing into himself, James covered his faced with his hands. Tears spilled over his glasses and his body shook violently as choking noises came out as broken and weak as the boy emitting them. Lily couldn't contain herself anymore either. Silently crying, Lily draped her arms around James's body, placing her head against this back. If he felt her presence, he didn't acknowledge it. James just continued to cry and Lily continued to hold him.

Lily felt foolish for ignoring this part of James. He always passed himself off as so carefree and on top of the world that it was hard for Lily to remember just how hard and cold life could be for James. She guessed a part of her wanted to believe that James was adjusted to his being orphaned, that he had made peace with his misfortune. After all, it wasn't as though he acted like he was plagued by it. She was ashamed for believing such an absurd notion and that she allowed James to just bury his loneliness and suffering underneath some merry façade.

James was tearing himself apart from the inside out and Lily was smiling along because it was simply more convenient for her to have a happy boyfriend than a human one.

After what could have been minutes or hours to Lily, she felt James touch her arm with his hand. Pulling away slowly, Lily looked towards James's face and waited for him to look back at her. James removed his smudged and soaked glasses and focused his blurry, wet eyes on hers.

"I don't… I don't feel that way anymore. Every year after… it got a bit easier to cope with… to live with. I mean, at least I want to live," assured James, as be brought his hand to Lily's face. "This year especially, and I think that has a lot to do with you."

"I haven't done anything," Lily's splintered voice insisted, wet and dry all at once from her own emotions and crying, "I never even bother to ask you about things like your family or how you feel about all of it."

James just started to shake his head to this.

"That's not what I want… it's not what I need," James explained. "I haven't just been filling my hours with senseless pranks and redundant lessons this year. I spent half of it falling in love with you and the other half appreciating just how wonderful that is. It's a better reason to want to live on than some stupid surname or bloodline."

Lily felt herself begin to cry again but not for the same reasons she had started out with.

James smiled.

It was the first smile he hadn't forced to the surface in days.

The kind of smile only a person who meant as much as Lily Evans did to James Potter could ever have a hope of drawing out.

"Sometimes… one person can be enough to make you want to make everything keep on going if even for just one day," James decided.

Although she questioned whether or not it was appropriate, Lily brought her face closer to James's. He sighed and closed his eyes, preparing for the imminent kiss. Not wanting James to feel as though she were trying to silence him, Lily pressed her lips softly to him, so gentle their presence was barely noticeable. She lingered in that position, unwilling to advance things. She wanted James to lead since he was the vulnerable one and she couldn't bear to do anything that might be considered a pressure to him.

James appeared to be content with the simple, casual embrace as his lips caressed her own in gentle, uncertain efforts. After a moment of this polite kissing James seemed to grow either comfortable or confident enough to part his mouth and take Lily's in the manner she was more accustomed to within their relationship.

Holding each other in a grasp best described as anxious, Lily and James remained locked at the mouths with time escaping them as it had when James had collapsed into sobs. There wasn't the usual passion or playfulness of any other time the two had found themselves in one another's arms, mouths, and hearts. Everything was slow and purposeful, painfully considerate and expressing the entirety of their need for one another at that moment or any other.

Under different circumstances it would have been astonishing.

Under these circumstances it was still astonishing.

Finding themselves laying side by side, prompt up on the pillows against the head of the bed, the kissing slowly began to taper off as Lily and James found themselves mostly holding and gazing upon one another in a comfortable silence. Tracing his fingers across her face and trailing them down her long neck, James found the chain to the locket he had given her earlier in the year. Gently he tugged it free from beneath her blouse and reread the inscription he had placed upon it without the benefit of his glasses which he hadn't bother to replace after removing.

"To Lily Evans; Prefect, train riding poet, and gazer of stars ~ Officially and unofficially yours, James Potter"

"I always wear it," Lily breathed against the silence.

James smiled slightly. It was obvious that meant a great deal to him.

"I don't think I ever told you what Deperire meant," James stated thoughtfully, still looking at the face of the locket.

"Oh yes." Lily recalled him mentioning the word a few months ago but it never occurred to her to ask about it. It sounded like a meaningful word the way James spoke of it.

"I means `to be hopelessly in love'," James said as he looked away from the trinket and upon Lily's face.

"I am, you know. That's what it feels like. Just this… this force upon me that's completely irresistible and utterly irreparable to everything in its wake. My parents told me it was the only way people in my family knew how to love someone, and it would be so overwhelming and completing. It wasn't until this moment that I really could understand what they meant by such a thing taking hold of my life. But here I am, hopelessly in love with you and it's the only way I know how to do it."

Fondly James kissed Lily's forehead.

"I guess we're just both going to have to live with that."

Lily nodded as she squeezed James tighter to her body, burying her face into his shoulder and neck.

"I love you so much, James, just know that always, no matter how bad things may seem or whatever else is going on in your life. Just know that there's no magic strong enough in the world to change that and no person powerful enough to take it away," Lily assured in a soft voice, as she pulled away to look upon James's face. "In the meantime, is there anything I can do to make this night and all the ones that have troubled you make you know that you're not making your way thought this life alone?"

With his hand still cradling Lily's locket and his eyes meeting hers, James wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell her to be there for him always. To love him and comfort him in moments like these. To allow him to always be close to her and always have the opportunity to care for her. To let her be everything worth valuing in his life.

He wanted to ask her all these things but mainly he wanted Lily to allow him to make love to her. It was a chance to forget his grief and let something meaningful to consume him and retreat into pure bliss with the woman he loved and the only reason he could think of at times that gave life a purpose to live on for.

James said nothing.

He knew if he asked, Lily would agree and then he would never know if she had expressed it out of love or had accommodated him out of pity. Even James would not be certain if he had sought such an intimate embrace in the name of love or for the sake of escape. Though his desperation called for it, James refused to indulge such a simple solution that would invite only more complicated problems after.

"Could you tell me a story?" James wondered aloud.

He adjusted himself to rest his head upon her shoulder and hugged her desperately toward him. It wasn't as intimate as he had originally desired to be next to Lily's form, but it was still wonderful. He relaxed slightly as he felt Lily's warm gentle hands tenderly caressing him as a show of comfort as Lily hugged him back.

"What kind of story?" Lily asked as she brushed James's black bangs from his face. They were soaked with his tears.

"Something happy," James murmured his plea into the folds of her clothing and waves of auburn hair.

"Okay," Lily agreed, thinking quietly to herself as she sought a happy story to tell in spite of how much sorrow she felt.

"Once upon a time, I met you. You were brilliant, talented, charming, and funny. I always liked you as a friend because you were wonderful. I wasn't old enough to appreciate how handsome you were or how grand it would be to snog you. Then, one day between 5^th and 6^th year, I no longer looked at you as a friend but as someone who made my heart skip out of beat every time we crossed paths after a summer day outside a Quidditch store on Daigon Alley. I came to like you more and more every day and even began to cherish all your flaws as much as I would your virtues. It was only a short time later before I couldn't help but fall in love with you and still love you now. But I can't tell you the ending."

"Why not?" James asked as he placed his hand to Lily's chin, turning it gently so he could see her face as she spoke.

"Because there isn't one," Lily smiled with a shrug, as she gazed lovingly at James through emerald eyes. "I'll just keep on loving you as much as I do now until I find a reason to love you even more… which will probably happen every day. And some day from now, I'll love you so much that the only sane thing either of us can do is get married and make it so we never have to worry about us being apart again. And you won't be the only Potter anymore because I'll be with you. After that, just when I thought it wasn't possible for me to love you anymore, we'll have a child that will be an embodiment of the very best either of us could hope to manage and proof of our love with every breath it takes. Then there will be more Potters who all love each other and will never be left alone again. So there is no ending, because everyone keeps on loving one another so much that no one could ever put a stop to it no matter how hard they tried. And those who die will not be alone and will always be remembered with love and those who live will never be alone and will always be looked upon with love as well. So that's all there is to it, really."

"I like that story. Would you tell it again?"

"I love you, James."

"I love you, Lily,"

"It sounds really good when you tell it, too," said Lily as she kissed James again.

* * *

* * * * * *

* * *

Okay, these past few have been a bit of bummer chapters but I think every once and a while a heart n soul story is needed to remind us of what it really means to be there for someone and love them with everything you got.

I've been getting a couple comments concerning the dark turn the plot has been taking lately so I thought I should respond. Yes, I'm aware that Pensieve isn't as humorous as it has been in the first days of writing it but, well, `tis life. . . even fictional ones. I plan on getting back to a more fun feel. Chapter 35 - "A Sirius Perspective" will be completely from Sirius's point of view which should be a charming tale in and of itself and the other ones I have planned are meant to get some of the laughter rolling as well as a few tender moments and somber ones.

Never fear, the humor hasn't left old Oy! Angie's spirit but it should fairly warn that things are going to get darker as the story goes on. It's what comes with growing up, especially in a time like that of Lily and James's lives.

And yes, I'm still planning on doing a chapter from multiple perspectives, I just feel that Sirius can hold his own show all by his lonesome.

Also I'd like to know what people's favorite quotes are from Pensieve. Any chapter. I just thought it would be fun to put them up on my site and the fan group so people could get an idea about some of Pensieve's appeal if they didn't already know.

Now for a song that I think really describes poor James in this chapter

* * *

When the World Ends

By: Dave Matthew's Band

* * *

When the world ends

Collect your things

You're coming with me

When the world ends

You tuck up yourself with me

Watch it as the stars disappear to nothing

The day the world is over

We'll be lying in bed

I'm gonna rock you like a baby when the cities fall

We will rise as the buildings crumble

Float there and watch it all

Amidst the burning, we'll be churning

You know, love will be our wings

The passion rises up from the ashes

When the world ends

When the world ends

You're gonna come with me

We're going to be crazy

Like a river bends

We're going to float

Through the criss-cross of the mountains

Watch them fade to nothing

When the world ends

You know that's what's happening now

I'm going to be there with you somehow, oh...

I'm going to tie you up like a baby in a carriage car

Your legs won't work cause you want me so

You just lie spread to the wall

The love you got is surely

All the love that I would ever need

I'm going to take you by my side

And love you tall, `til the world ends

Oh, but don't you worry about a thing

No, 'cause I got you here with me

Don't you worry about a

Just you and me

Floating through the empty, empty

Just you and me

Oh, graces

Oh, grace

Oh, when the world ends

We'll be burning one

When the world ends

We'll be sweet makin' love

Oh, you know when the world ends

I'm going to take you aside and say

Let's watch it fade away, fade away

And the world's done

Ours just begun

It's done

Ours just begun

We're gonna dive into the emptiness

We'll be swimming

I'm going to walk you through the pathless roads

I'm going to take you to the top of the mountain that's no longer there

I'm going to take you to bed and love you, I swear

Like the end is near

I'm going to take you up to

I'm going to take you down on you

I'm going to hold you like an angel, angel

I'm going to love you

I'm going to love you

When the world ends

I'm going to hold you

When the world is over

We'll just be begi...

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