Blackmail, Secrets & General Mischief by everblue3 Rating: PG Ship: Lily & James Canon: Books 1 - 4 Genre: Humor, Romance Status: Complete Length: 3,828 words in 1 chapter Published: 25 Mar 2005 Last updated: 25 Mar 2005 A 6th year incident in which James hears secrets, spills secrets, and learns what happens with a healthy dose of nonchalance. A Companion Piece/Epilogue for "Outrunning Our Shadows" From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/4070/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 1. Blackmail, Secrets & General Mischief Dislaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling and the respective publishing houses. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made on this story apart from the personal enjoyment I got in writing it. A/N: This one-shot occurs post-Outrunning Our Shadows, but is in line with that plot. If you don’t understand the references, I highly recommend reading OOS, though it shouldn’t be absolutely necessary. Blackmail, Secrets, & General Mischief The February wind had swept through the halls of Hogwarts, sending chills through students and teacher alike. Despite the warming charms on all the classrooms and dorms, it had been nearly impossible to escape from the arctic blasts coming from every window and door. Now that March was beginning, it seemed that the Winter weather was beginning to dissipate; while my friends and I bemoaned the loss of the snow around the grounds, we couldn’t help but be thankful for the end of the Deep Freeze, as Peter termed it. As happy as I was to see the end of winter, I was a bit wary of the change of seasons. While I was thrilled that I no longer had to wear thick robes to play Quidditch, I worried about what the warmer weather would bring. There hadn’t been many attacks over the colder months; apparently even the Dark Lord preferred a warm fire to frostbite. The Wizarding World had begun to get complacent since Christmas, seeing as no one had been kidnapped for months, the Prophet hypothesized that Voldemort had called a cease-fire. I didn’t buy it and neither did Dumbledore, and I dreaded what horrible events the thaw would bring. There was another reason I wasn’t overjoyed at the possibility of finally seeing the witches without three extra layers on their appealing figures. I had committed one of the cardinal sins of cross-gender friendship; over the Fall and Winter months, I’d gone and fallen in love with my dearest friend, Lily Evans. Of course I wouldn’t act on it, especially since I couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen to our friendship if she didn’t feel the same way. Still, I had found that I loved her, for the way her eyes lit up when she learned a new charm, for the devious mind that crafted so many clever pranks, and for the way she smiled at me when we were just talking, in one of our rooms, laughing about nothing. I loved her as I had never expected to love anyone, and it was killing me to be so close to her, knowing that I couldn’t have her. Life’s a bloody mess. The Hogsmeade trips were starting again soon, and no doubt she’d be asked by some berk of a student to go as a date. Thank Merlin she’d gotten away from Amos Diggory after the Yule Ball, but I wasn’t thrilled at the idea of her continuing to date people who were totally ignorant of who she really was. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do anything rash (though I’d happily break that promise if some little sod went and broke her heart) and that I’d be grateful to have her around at all. Bloody unpleasant, consciences. My friends were nearly as clueless as Lily about my latest crisis of emotion. Sirius may have thought I was having girl issues, but he generally chalked that up to my being repressed; he often suggested that I follow his lead and find a pretty witch to snog. Likewise, Remus, oddly enough, seemed blissfully unaware, and seemed to think my melancholy due to the rise of Voldemort. Peter, though, was a problem. I could tell, from his beady little eyes, that he knew something was amiss right after Winter holidays. I think he’d been tempted to ask me about it a few times after he saw me with Lily, but I’ve managed to forestall his accusations so far. That boy’s far too perceptive for his own good…one of these days it’ll get him…or us…in trouble. Since then, I’ve thrown myself into three things: school, Quidditch, and making Snape’s life miserable. It’s really what we do when our lives are awry; through no obvious fault of his own (though we usually blamed it on his bad attitude, greasy hair, and overall swottiness) Snape had become the unwilling target of our frustrations and excess energy for years. I’d learned some disturbing things about his family over Halloween, and after seeing him in Hogsmeade with apparent Death Eaters, but it was still hard for me to fathom someone like Snape turning Dark. In my opinion, he just didn’t have the balls. ~~~~~ In Potions that afternoon, we finished brewing our samples of the Nectar of Nonchalance, a sweet-smelling concoction used by the Ministry when interviewing job candidates and interrogating prisoners; the potion had the effect of lowering reservations and “inspiring truth,” making it one of the most common of the Verity potions. According to Professor Jigger, the potion wouldn’t force you to spill your darkest secrets, but it would encourage the drinker to be honest and frank, which made it useful when finding out someone’s true intentions for employment in the Veela Liaison Office at the Ministry of Magic. “Alright, students,” announced Professor Jigger. “The Nectar should be finished in the next 25 minutes, and then I want you to write me a report on the brewing process and how it differs from the making of the other Verity potions, the Truth Tonic and Veritaserum, which we will study next week. I know this is your last class today, so, once your potion has been inspected by me, I want you to drink 40 milliliters, each. No more, no less. Then, you will write a report on how the potion makes you feel, and its effects. This report is due on Tuesday, and should be no less than 2 feet.” Looking at us over his thick glasses, he commented, “You are all responsible, and I am certain you will not abuse the potion for personal reasons. Begin.” As I worked with Sirius in the still-frigid dungeon, I skimmed the book for any details the Professor had left out. Can’t force the truth if the drinker has Giant blood or has recently ingested more than two ounces of spleenwort…first used in 1816 by a witch to determine the fidelity of her husband…that’s a lovely thought…effects take 10 minutes to manifest…effects last between 3 and 6 hours depending on dosage…combination of ambrosia and asphodel tend to produce memory loss of events under the influence… I stopped reading for a moment, considering. If someone told the truth under this potion, and then lost all memory of it, how would they know what they’d said? I was somewhat shocked by this realization, imagining what could take place in the space of 3 to 6 hours. Elbowing my partner, who was lazily shooting sparks from his wand at Grecius Goyle’s back, I muttered, “Remind me never to apply for a Ministry desk job, yeah?” Sirius didn’t look up. The only indication that he heard me was a slight nod while he aimed another spark at Goyle. Looking closely, I could see a bare spot on Goyle’s head where the hair had been singed off; somehow, Goyle hadn’t even noticed. Sirius’s projectile hit its mark, sputtering until it fizzled, sending up acrid fumes as it ate through Goyle’s frizzy mop of hair. Smiling, Sirius glanced over at me before stirring the potion again. “Why would you even want a desk job, Prongs? Wouldn’t that be too tame for you?” “Well, of course,” I said quickly, “you know I want to get out there in the action as much as you do. But this potion causes memory loss for the time of its effects, and that’s a bloody long time to have to tell the truth.” Sirius grinned widely. “It is, isn’t it? Think of how many secrets you could get out of people…who they’ve snogged, who they fancy, where they hide their lingerie…” His eyes rolled toward the ceiling, imagining the possibilities as only Sirius could. “Not like you’d remember any of those secrets,” I replied. “The potion makes you forget what you say and hear, for 6 whole hours. Who knows what could happen if anyone asked us about Remus? Like, oh I don’t know, Snape?” Even if he couldn’t remember, I’m sure he’d find someway to record it, stupid git. If anything, Sirius’s grin got wider. “Why James, I don’t think you’ve read the text properly.” He grabbed the book and glanced over it for a moment before pointing to a line toward the bottom. “Voila.” …Memory loss may be avoided with ingestion of 5 milliliters of armadillo bile, one of the primary ingredients of a Wit-Sharpening Potion… I could feel my lips forming a smirk. Oho. “So all we have to do is get some arma—“ I was promptly cut off by the appearance of 2 vials from Sirius’s robe pocket. “I was going to save these for finals, when I needed to have a clear head,” Sirius sighed, then smiled, “but…now’s as good a time as any. What shall we toast to?” He handed me a vial, which clearly held the viscous bile. “To blackmail, and secrets, and general mischief,” I intoned, holding the vial as I would a glass of wine. Grinning, we clinked our vials together and drank the armadillo bile, sputtering from the bitter taste. Ugh, but that’s disgusting, I thought, firmly commanding my stomach to stay put. As we were at the back of the class, we could see that no one else seemed to have reached the same conclusions as us, though we continued to look around carefully as people finished their potions and began decanting the solution into larger vials provided by Professor Jigger. Passing by our desks, he stroked his short black beard, noting, “Good color, good consistency, yes boys, I believe you’ve done it right. Full marks to each of you. Now, do remember to jot down the assignment now, and write down your reaction to the potion immediately, before you, ah, forget.” He smiled slightly at this last bit, gave a brief chuckle, and continued across to Remus and Peter, whose potion looked decidedly off-color. Jigger frowned a bit, clearly disappointed. Sirius quickly piped up, “Oh, Professor? We’ve plenty here, if you’d like us to, uh, share with anyone in the class.” He attempted to act like a responsible student, but it was clear that he merely wanted to forestall any reprimand Moony and Wormtail would receive. When Jigger gave a curt nod, Remus glanced over, mouthing Thank You, and Peter gave us a thumbs-up sign. We poured our strained solution, which ended up a rosy color, into the vials provided, and waited for Jigger’s signal. At his command, all the 6th year Gryffindor and Slytherin students drank. Since we knew the potion’s effects would not be manifested for 10 minutes, no one expected anything to happen to them immediately. Still, it was somewhat anticlimactic. No dizziness, no buzzing in the ears, just a pleasant sweet taste, almost fruity. Many of the students shrugged off the non-event and began to clean up their stations. I had a feeling that few had really read about the effects of the potion, and merely thought it would be a conversation-enhancer. Sirius and I traded grins and snickers while we cleaned our cauldrons, planning silently who we would approach and what we would ask. At the ten-minute mark, the world began to spin and my head felt heavy. Whoa…I tried to bring the room back into focus, and found that many of my classmates had either fallen or sat down, obviously feeling similar effects. As suddenly as the dizziness came, it left, leaving me with a sense of calm and amity. It’ll be an interesting afternoon, to say the least. ~~~~~ Good thing Lily didn’t drink any of that armadillo bile, I thought, later in the evening as I lay in bed. Sirius had finally gone to sleep after cuffing me in the shoulder and laughing a good bit at my expense. Peter and Remus were oblivious, having passed out hours ago. The whole of the Tower was silent, save for Peter’s snores and my skull, hitting the headboard of my four-poster repeatedly in annoyance. Or Snape, for that matter. That potion was certainly potent, I had to admit, and for a moment I was proud that I’d made it correctly. We’d switched our course with the Hufflepuffs after Christmas, and now had Potions with the Slytherins; while Jigger was fond of mixing the Houses, he knew better than to force Slytherin-Gryffindor cooperation, and allowed us to segregate ourselves. Thus, Sirius became my Potions partner, and we often spent more time flicking sparks at Goyle than concentrating on classwork. My mind wandered. Soon after the potion had taken effect, Jigger released us from class. It was slightly odd to see the Slytherins spark up conversations with Gryffindors, but the potion appeared to quiet the normal inter-House rivalry. I had packed up my bags and walked out the door, only to be pulled aside by a rough hand. Sirius had rushed out of the room, trying to catch up with Cytherea and Dierdre, and Remus, Peter, and Lily were walking together, chatting amicably. The hand remained on my arm until all the students had left the corridor, and soon I was left to face Severus Snape alone. In any normal situation, I might have cursed him into oblivion or expected a hex, but instead I just waited patiently. Snape asked me, politely, to follow him, and he led me to a small study room off the Potions corridor that I knew to be part of the Slytherin House wing. We sat and faced each other for a few minutes before Snape broke the silence. His voice seemed strangely light. “You don’t like me, and I certainly don’t like you. But we’ve got to be honest here, and I have a question for you.” I remembered what I’d said to Sirius earlier. “Hold on now, you have to promise me you won’t ask for secrets about my friends. This is just between you and me, right?” Snape nodded. “There will be time later for me to talk to your beast of a friend Lupin. For now, I’m going to take advantage of having an honest audience.” I leaned back in my chair, oddly comfortable with the idea of Snape grilling me with questions. “Fine with me,” I drawled, “what’s on your—“ “What have you told Dumbledore about my trips to Hogsmeade?” he interrupted, voice still light. I thought for a moment. “The ones where you go on family business?” I asked. Snape nodded. “Nothing, actually. I think he already knows you go and have tea with Death Eaters on a regular basis. You probably have Voldemort for dinner when you go home for hols.” Snape raised his eyebrows. “You’ve told him nothing? You’re sure?” He leaned forward, as if to catch me in a lie. “The potion inhibits lying, Snivellus,” I reminded him. “Besides, why does it matter?” Snape looked disturbed. “Because it does!” He seemed to be grappling with his words, and then he continued, in a conversational voice that belied his actual feelings. “I don’t want him thinking what you’re thinking. You know nothing about my family, and you know nothing about Voldemort!” He rubbed his eyes with his hands in frustration and leaned back in his chair. “If he finds out, you will be sorry, Potter.” “Why’d you go Dark in the first place, Snape?” I found myself asking, slightly surprised. Snape seemed to spit out his words. “Do you think I have much of a choice, Potter? Look at my family, look at my House. Do you think I’ve ever been given a choice about my future?” He seemed to laugh for a second. “Hell, I’ve already got a job lined up for after graduation. Even if I don’t care for the Dark Lord or his crusade, it’s better than anything I could get at the Muggle-loving Ministry.” Whoa…did not expect. I started a bit, taken aback. “You mean, you wouldn’t have chosen to be a Death Eater?” Snape shrugged. “Then…why?” I was boggled. “Just because I think Mudbloods and Half-Breeds are inferior or that misguided purebloods like you should be ashamed of yourselves doesn’t mean I like killing or torturing people.” “Just me and my friends, is that it?” I inquired, highly interested by this conversation. Snape scowled. “You invite it, you know.” He seemed to realize that he’d been more truthful than he meant. Standing, he commanded, “Get out. This conversation’s over.” And with that, I’d left, knowing that even if Snape had drunk bile before the potion, I’d still have the upper hand. Grinning slightly, I almost hoped that he’d been as smart a Potions student as I expected and prepared himself, if only to remember that he’d poured his heart out to me, his most favorite Gryffindor. It definitely gave me some questions, though. Snape didn’t like Voldemort? Then, why was he just accepting the stigma that came with membership in Slytherin House? Didn’t he know he could get out? I planned to speak to Dumbledore about this, if only to give Snape the option of an out if he chose it later; even if he was a slimy git, Snape wouldn’t just accept this fate, would he? Could he be that spineless? My mind drifted for a few moments, reflecting on that conversation and the rest of the afternoon. It had been amusing, watching his year-mates casually mention who they fancied and what they’d had little fantasies about (Sirius had actually taken notes for a few of them, grinning widely as Nanke mentioned her interest in a snog session in the library. “I’m in there so often, I suppose it would just be nice to have that kind of memory, you know? And knowing that everyone was so nearby, I guess that’s pretty thrilling…” she’d said, blushing a bit). I’d had the opportunity, right after dinner, to talk with Lily in my room, just the two of us. I felt a little nervous about being alone with her, but like Nan, found myself excited by the risk of doing something daring. It had been about 4 hours since the potion went into effect, and so we were in various stages of coming out of its grip. Being somewhat small, Lily likely had another hour to go, and I had probably drunk more than my share, so I was still feeling obscenely open and honest. “So, what have you done today, James?” she asked, resting her head on the back of her armchair. She wiggled around, trying to find a comfortable spot. “Talked to Snape, laughed with the boys, nothing much,” I replied, still watching her try to situate herself. Feeling slightly bold, I patted the seat next to me on the loveseat and said, “Come here, you…I’ll be your pillow.” Smiling, she grabbed the blanket from the back of her chair and sat next to me, covering both of us and leaning her head on my shoulder. “Everyone is so free and open, it’s kind of weird, isn’t it?” she asked, yawning. I laughed, agreeing. “But then,” she added, “you and I have always been able to be open and honest, so this isn’t much different.” She snuggled further into my shoulder, and guided my arm around her to keep her upright. She was so close I could smell her hair, and I had a hard time not kissing her right then. I settled for a slight shrug, not wanting to continue. Still, I found myself saying, “For most things, maybe, but I still keep secrets from you.” “What kind of secrets?” She raised her head to look at me with those soulful green eyes, genuinely curious about what I’d been hiding. “Well, I love you, for one.” And that was it. Whether I’d wanted to say it or not, there it was. I blinked hard and looked down to see her reaction, but I couldn’t see her face. “Oh.” She was silent for a few seconds. “That certainly is a secret. For how long, James?” She didn’t look at me, but she hadn’t pulled away. Her hand had begun playing with my fingers that curled around her right arm, but she hadn’t moved away from me or seemed surprised. “Since before the Yule Ball,” I said quietly. “Is that OK?” She didn’t answer for a minute, instead making soft hmming noises. Her fingers stopped playing with my arm, and, leaning over, I noticed she’d fallen asleep. She looked so beautiful with her hair framing her face. I thought she looked beautiful lying in my arms, even for a brief time. I gently extricated myself from her, putting a pillow underneath her head and tucking in the blanket around her. Unable to resist, I kissed her cheek, and then, feeling reckless, I kissed her on the lips, barely touching her mouth with mine, savoring the opportunity. As I stood up, she stirred and I heard her say, “It’s always OK, James.” She yawned and murmured, nearly-asleep, “You’n me, we fit good.” I smiled at her, knowing with an ache in my heart that she’d forget this all in the morning. I whispered “I love you, Lily” one more time before turning to the door. Even hours later, long after the potion had worn off, I could still feel her lips on mine, and I knew I was lost. Of course, as soon as I had opened the door to leave, Sirius had been outside, obviously listening, to judge from the look on his face. He had been surprised that I had such feelings for Lily, and, oddly enough, annoyed that I’d kept them from him. We traded stories of what had happened, though I kept my information about Snape to myself, saving it for Dumbledore. After much teasing, Sirius promised not to tell Lily, and offered to keep her boyfriend-free until I was ready to ‘get off my sorry arse and tell her.’ Sirius then went to bed, still chuckling. I’m not sure how much sleep I ended up getting, since I couldn’t stop hearing her voice in my head as she had lain in my arms: “we fit good.” Well, I couldn’t vouch for her grammar, but I agreed wholeheartedly. It was just a matter of time before we could have that conversation for real. An interesting day, indeed. ~~~~~ A/N: This plot bunny grabbed hold of me and didn’t let go until 4:30 in the morning, so here you are – the fruits of my labor. I hope you’ve enjoyed it! OOS will continue to be updated periodically, so check back to see what happens to James and Lily! Please be a responsible reader and review!