Author's Note: In a puzzling turn of events, the birthday girl is handing out a present--this chapter!
Dedications: O_o
EVERYONE! Because I'm in a wonderful mood.
Chapter 12: The File Cabinet
"What took you so long?" groused Dinah, whose arms were crossed. Max played on the lump created by her legs under the covers.
Lily and James entered the room, releasing each others' hand in the process. James stood by Lily's unoccupied half of the bed, smiling at the girls with his hands in his pockets, and Lily sat beside Dinah, allowing the feisty kitten to swat at her hair.
"Sorry, Dinah." She couldn't conceal a smile as she gave her apology and glanced at James. "We didn't mean to leave you and Max alone in here." To rid her of suspicion, she added, "James and I had something to take care of."
"What was it?" she asked.
A lovely rouge crept upon Lily's cheeks. "Never you mind," she said, and pulled giggling Dinah into a hug. "Goodnight."
"Tuck me in," she said, and moved the blanket off her; Max became trapped beneath it. Lily pulled the covers from the kitten, who looked rather disgruntled, and draped them over Dinah.
"Goodnight," she repeated, and kissed her forehead. Lily motioned for James to do the same. Awkwardly, because he hadn't been around a child since the years he was one, James leaned over Dinah, kissed her cheek, and gave her hair a rumple. Because the child seemed pleased at his half of the tucking-in, James felt pleased too. He was learning.
Lily started toward the dresser in which she'd placed her things, but James spoke, halting her.
"Tuck me in?"
They grinned at each other, a little anxiously on Lily's part. She laid her pajamas at the foot of the bed--Max claimed them instantly as his own--and went with James to the door.
"Lily?" Dinah sat in bed. "Where are you going? It's bed time."
"I'll be back in a few minutes," Lily promised. "Go to sleep."
"I'm waiting for you," Dinah insisted.
"All right," muttered Lily.
She and James left the room.
"That was sweet, James," smiled Lily as they walked down the hallway.
James blushed, though he accepted the praise with a grin. "It was nothing, really. You're better at it."
"I think you make a very nice father," complimented Lily, ensuing a deeper blush from her companion.
"F-father?"
"You did adopt her," said Lily.
"But I did that for you," he said, embarrassed now at thinking himself Dinah's adoptive father. "She's yours."
Lily looked crestfallen. "I thought we were going to...oh dear...."
Guilt prickled inside of James. "Thought we were going to what?" he asked, although he knew the answer already.
"Raise her together," said Lily, eyes falling to the hall floor. They stopped outside of James's room. "But if you don't want to, I underst--"
From below they heard a door open and close, followed by the sound of boots clunking around. They came closer--probably to the living room--tempting Lily and James to peek over the stair rail.
James's father looked extraordinarily like him. They wore their wild black hair in the same style, carried themselves the same way, and even dressed similarly. The only differences were the color of their eyes (James's father's were blue), the lines of age and sun on the older man's face, and about ten pounds, in James's favor.
"Lost!" fumed James's father, pitching a set of gloves rather moodily to the ground. "We lost!" He began to pace back and forth and his wife watched him, trying to hide her amusement. "All those practices, all of my pep talks and speeches--wasted! How could they have let the Wimbourne Wasps steal our win? That Ludo Bagman and his foul play...get him for that bludger...."
"Dad coaches the Montrose Magpies," whispered James. "They had a big game tonight."
Mrs. Potter rose from the couch and gave her slightly muddy husband a comforting hug, which he gladly returned.
"It's only Quidditch, love," she soothed. Lily knew at once that she had said the wrong thing.
"Only Quidditch?" Mr. Potter drew back from his wife, gaping incredulously at her. "My wife would never say it's 'only Quidditch'!" Mrs. Potter rolled her eyes. "You know what we lost tonight, Erin? The finals! I come home, crushed, and hoping for sympathy and words of comfort--my wife puts down Quidditch instead!"
"Cut the melodrama. I'm making you a cup of tea." She disappeared into the kitchen.
Mr. Potter kicked off his shoes and snagged the evening edition of the Daily Prophet from the coffee table. He frowned at the front page--which, from their height, Lily and James could not see--and when Mrs. Potter walked back into the living room carrying a tea tray for two, he spoke to her.
"Did you see this?" He tapped the page. "An entire goblin family murdered in Nottingham. Can you believe it?" Mrs. Potter said nothing, choosing to stare in a rather frightened way into her tea cup. "I bet you anything it was that Dolohov you were telling me about (Mrs. Potter worked at the Ministry--the Wizengamot). The one who loves to torture non-supporters; everyone knows he wants goblins on his side. They just won't have any of it."
"That's only the front page, Greg," mumbled Mrs. Potter.
Internally fearful, he turned the page. "Muggle torturing?" he gasped, looking up at his wife. "More Muggle torturing?"
Beside him, James felt Lily shift uncomfortably.
"Th-they supposedly do it for fun," muttered Mrs. Potter, shameful at her knowledge.
Mr. Potter steepled his eyebrows. "How did you hear that?"
"We've had several Death Eaters on trial in the past month," explained his wife. "Out of curiosity, Millicent Bagnold asked one why he enjoys torturing Muggles so; that was his answer."
Mr. Potter tossed the paper unceremoniously to the floor. "Sick. The lot of them are sick."
At Lily's agreeing nod, James leaned to hug her. She gratefully slid into his embrace, not the least bit scared for the moment, and sat herself in his lap.
James grinned. "Now you're cuddly."
She laid her head on his shoulder. "You're warm, that's why. And this is nice, you holding me."
He kissed her cheek, sending pleasant chills down each of their spines. She snuggled closer to him.
"I like this," she declared, a little pink in the cheeks from his kiss. "I like having a boyfriend. You know, I think this may have helped a little; I don't feel nervous or scared at all." James noted that she said the last sentence almost cheerfully.
He kissed her cheek again (quite near the corner of her mouth). "I'm glad you're happy."
Lily let him hold and nuzzle her for a few minutes longer, enjoying the closeness. She felt so comfortable and at ease with him in those minutes as his hands softly rubbed her back and his warm breath caressed her cheek.
'It must have been the approach,' she thought. 'Not sudden, he had a soft, caring expression, he was gentle...everything Malfoy wasn't. Don't be frightened,' she implored herself. 'James won't hurt me.'
She closed her eyes, demonstrating to both herself and James her trust in him. His clothing and chest were so soft...his embrace so snug...she was drifting off. Her fear was screaming, 'Get away from him! Don't you dare fall asleep in a man's arms! Are you mad?'
But, for a drastic change, she ignored its warnings. 'Shut it. I'm tired and James is comfortable. He won't hurt me.'
She was starting to believe her montra. At first, she said it to reassure herself, to perhaps trick herself into abandoning her fear. Now it was a reminder of the truth James proved it to be time after time.
"Lily," he whispered, and kissed her forehead, bringing her from her thoughts. "You're falling asleep. Come on--I'll put you to bed."
Lily moaned in protest and gripped him tightly around the waist. "Stay," she muttered sleepily.
James smiled. "I'll carry you to bed, then."
Compliantly, because he tickled her when she refused, she fixed her arms about his neck and her legs around his waist. He didn't, as Lily had wished, turn into his bedroom. Lily took it upon herself to reach it.
James grunted when she grabbed the door frame and stopped walking. "What was that about?"
"Your room," she requested tiredly, and laid her head once more on his shoulder.
"Are you sure?" He sounded tentative.
The sound of Dinah's soft snores drifted into the hall and Lily knew she wouldn't be expecting her back until morning.
"Yes," she whispered, tiredness overcoming her. "Hold me."
"I am holding you," he replied.
"When I'm sleeping," she amended.
Not wanting to protest in the least bit--not to mention overcome with glee--James carried her into his bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them.
"You've brought a girl?" asked the mirror, shocked. "To your bedroom? What would your mother say?"
James set her in a sitting position on the bed; she was reluctant to release him.
"I have a big T-shirt and pajama shorts you can borrow," he said, and fished them out of his dresser drawers. "Here"--he tossed them in her lap--"I hope you like Snitches."
Lily picked them up and staggered through the open door to his bathroom. She closed the door once she'd entered and emerged a few moments later, clad in his Quidditch wear. James noted her lack of bra and felt his jeans tighten uncomfortably.
As Lily pulled back the comforter and climbed into bed, James fumbled for his pajamas, trying not to show her his front, and darted into the bathroom. Due to her fatigue, Lily took no notice of his odd behavior.
The mattress dipped briefly when James laid down beside Lily. She moved into his arms and yanked the comforter up to their chins. James felt like Romeo Montague laying there beside Lily; having her in his bed was forbidden. She should be back in her room with Dinah.
Dinah. They hadn't resolved the issue concerning Dinah. James wanted to be her adoptive father; he knew that for sure. He only began backing out of Lily's offer for Dinah's sake. What if they raised her as a couple for a year or two and then split up? He didn't want to put a child through such an ordeal. But as Lily snuggled closer to him, he felt stupid for having such little faith in their relationship. They could really have something.
"Lily?" he whispered. "Remember what we talked about in the hall? Raising Dinah together?"
"Yes," she replied.
"You still want to, right?"
She propped herself up on an elbow, facing him. "You mean...you do?"
He nodded. "If you'll have me."
Lily grinned and wrapped him in a hug. "Of course I'll have you. I was worried you'd say no."
"I've wanted to be with you for nearly three years. You think I'd say no?"
She felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him; she acted on it. (Pleasantly) Surprised, James coiled an arm around her and eagerly kissed her back. Neither had the desire to end it for several moments.
That is, until she felt his tongue against her lips.
She snapped backward and sat, covering her mouth with her palm, breathing heavily.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Got a bit carried away, I suppose."
Her hand fell to her side. "It's not your fault," she said. "That was another thing he did. Forced me to...well, you understand."
"I'm sorry," he repeated, feeling awful for stirring those memories. "I didn't know."
"I don't blame you. Everything's fine. Just...give me some sort of warning next time you...you know."
"I will," he vowed.
She inched back over to him and sank again into his embrace. "Let's get to sleep," she said. "I'm really tired."
He gave her a light kiss on her neck before fulfilling her wish.
- - -
The doorbell rang throughout the bottom floor of the house the next morning and Mrs. Potter rushed to answer the door before the sound awoke everyone.
"Oh, hello Remus!" she greeted. "You too, Peter. About time you joined us."
She opened the door wider for them and they entered the foyer.
"Everyone's feeling well again, I presume?"
Remus nodded. In truth, he was feeling better. His mother had thought ahead to stock up on Healing Elixirs for the summer, and after a rough night locked securely in his basement--where he spent all of his home-bound transformations--she'd nursed him back to health, kneeling with a cool rag for his head at his bedside and sharing tired conversation until sleep had claimed him.
"And your mother, Peter?" prompted Mrs. Potter.
"She's feeling much better," said Peter truthfully. "My father took her to St. Mungo's two days ago and she's improving greatly." Peter's mother had contracted a ghastly case of the flu near the start of August. She'd been on bed rest for weeks.
"I'm glad to hear that. Would you boys like something to eat?"
"Sure!" "All right."
They followed Mrs. Potter into the vacant dining room; she entered the next room, the kitchen, which connected to the dining room, and started preparing breakfast.
"Where're the others?" asked Remus, taking a seat beside Peter.
"Still sleeping," called Mrs. Potter from the kitchen. "Bacon, eggs, and toast all right?"
"Yes," they chorused.
"I'm going to the loo," muttered Remus. "Back in a minute."
Peter was alone at the table. Mrs. Potter stepped with a pitcher of orange juice into the dining room. She handed it to Peter and whipped out her wand to summon six plates, cups, and sets of silverware to the table.
"Could you pour the juice and set the table, dear?"
"Yes, all right," said Peter.
Mrs. Potter smiled at him and rushed back into the kitchen to see to breakfast. Peter took this as his opportunity to slip Lily a mickey. He knew James's usual seat and that Lily would most likely take the only available chair beside him. Once the table was set and the juice served, Peter withdrew the potion from his robe pocket and uncorked it. He paused before emptying its contents into her drink, feeling guilty for what he was doing to a girl James cared so much for. The potion fell into her drink, however, when he imagined what Lord Voldemort would do to him if he disregarded his order.
Luckily for Peter, the empty vial was hidden in his pocket and he was in the process of sliding back into his chair when both Remus and Mrs. Potter reentered the room. She layered their plates with thick bacon, scrambled eggs, and buttered and jellied toast. They thanked her and Peter was about to start on a piece of toast when James, Lily, and Dinah entered the room. He excused himself from the table, muttering about needing to use the bathroom. He couldn't bear to watch Lily drink her juice, even if he'd never much liked her.
During his slow trudge up the staircase, he thought about Lucius Malfoy and what Bellatrix had told him about his reasons for brewing Lily the Obedience Potion. A trial. A trial on December nineteenth of last year. A trial he knew virtually nothing about. Then something he should have realized sooner struck him; Mrs. Potter was on the Wizengamot. Well, he couldn't very well ask her about it. Might come off as suspicious and besides, he doubted she'd tell him anything about it if he were to ask.
'Her file cabinet!' he thought excitedly. 'I'd almost forgotten about her file cabinet! She has information on all of the trials in there!'
The second room on the right, Mrs. Potter's office was off-limits to James and his friends. Peter found it to be unlocked, however, and made his entrance as though it was his own office, letting the door seal with a click! once he was inside.
Six feet tall and full of large metal drawers, the file cabinet wasn't difficult to locate. There were thirteen drawers, each containing files for two letters of the alphabet. He searched under Lily's name, Evans, and pulled forward the third drawer. She was the only Evans on file, not hard to find at all. He opened the thin, cream-colored folder bearing her name and withdrew a lone sheet of typed print.
'Lucius served six months in Azkaban? I never knew that. Oh my God...they gave him the ancient Wizarding punishment for rape as well. But he did hurt her...it was his fault....'
Hastily, he jammed the page back into its folder and placed it back between 'Erikson' and 'Fay.' Peter peeked out the window on the office door before leaving the room, and as he headed back toward the aromatic dining room, he trembled with guilt at the knowledge that Lily Evans had only twenty hours left to act freely.
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