Chapter 14: A Tragedy and a Realization
Halloween managed to be more enjoyable than James would have expected. He and Lily had taken to naming the girls who pursued him, as most of them were younger and neither James nor Lily knew who they were, even with Lily's uncanny knowledge of people.
"Ursula," Lily said, watching a girl with red hair several shades lighter than hers stalk away after her proposal of marriage had been awkwardly refused. "I definitely think her name is Ursula."
James grinned.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "I thought of her as a Ginger."
"You know, that's so unoriginal for a redhead that I really do think it could be her name. Parents can be rather unoriginal, you know."
"Is that an insult to my name or a compliment?"
"It's what you make of it."
The day passed quickly, and, aside from Professor McGonagall shouting at a group of girls who had gathered outside the Transfiguration classroom to serenade James, it managed to pass with minimal incident. There were, of course, audible snickers from the Slytherins, but James had expected that. It went so well, in fact, that that night in the common room Lily was able to ask James with some semblance of seriousness,
"So, are you going to miss them?" She gestured towards the girls, who were trying to comfort themselves as they began to reluctantly acknowledge defeat.
"I don't know," he said, rubbing his chin and mock frowning, "I really could get used to a fan club…"
Lily smirked.
"But really," she continued, ignoring what he'd said, "do you want my opinion?"
"If I say no, will you still tell me?"
"Of course, but I wanted you to feel you still had a choice in the matter."
"I never do."
"Come off it. Anyway, I don't think it's worth being angry at your friends for. It's just a bit of fun."
"It's--that's not everything."
"From the way you said that, I take it that you don't want to tell me what `everything' is."
"You know already."
Lily averted her eyes.
"Nobody else knows that. It's not my place to say anything about it. Besides, I don't know if I heard everything or not. I mean, I thought I did, but it wasn't as though I was pressing my ear against a door to hear every word…"
James thought for a moment, then said, slowly,
"You…you could tell Remus you know about him, you know."
Lily smiled as she continued to stare at the armchair.
"What good would it do?"
"He'd know you knew."
"There's a lot of things people know that they don't have to tell."
"What?" James felt that she meant something more by that, and felt particularly dim for not having caught it.
Lily finally looked up, directing her smile at him.
"Tell you what. When you decide to forgive Sirius completely, not just whatever sort of forgiveness you've got now, then I'll tell Remus what I know."
"How did you know Sirius and I…" He trailed off, allowing his surprise to be obvious.
Lily laughed.
"Haven't you figured out that I know everything?"
"Right," James said dryly.
"Come along," Lily said, standing up and patting his arm. "We have a feast to attend."
***
It was the first week of November, and the flurry of owls brought in not only the first signs that snow had begun, but also the sense of dread that said that today was the day that James was going to receive his monthly letter from his parents.
His father never actually contributed to the effort of writing it, but his mum always made sure to make it look like he'd at least glanced over at it as she wrote. This was so James would think he's made some comment or other, whether it was agreeing with her or telling him to stay out of trouble. No matter what it was, it was completely uncomforting and James dreaded feeling obligated to read about his mum's latest escapades in the social world.
Just as he suspected he would, he soon spotted a familiar gray owl, Aristotle, carrying a lavender colored letter. He groaned. He hoped that, just this once, his mum would forget to be herself and write a normal letter.
He had no such luck. His mum had continued to write about Madame Delacour's sister just as she had in September and October's letters, and midway through, after informing him of her preparations for the Christmas ball, she wrote,
She's so sweet--we've been corresponding regularly, and would you believe that she's absolutely fascinated by Quidditch? I thought that that would please you. I look forward to you two finally getting to meet. I really do think you'll like her, and I hope I'm not getting to far ahead of myself saying you might just change your mind about marriage!
"You damn well are getting ahead of yourself," James growled. "Bitch." He set the letter on fire then looked up, hoping that he would get another opportunity to scare the owl, but Aristotle had gone, replaced only with a disapproving Lily.
"James," she said wearily. "Honestly. That sort of name calling is really unnecessary."
"You didn't read it," he reassured her. "It deserved it."
"Are you sure?" In spite of what she had said, though, James thought he could see the tiniest of smiles.
"Morning, James, Evans." Sirius had come, along with Remus and Peter.
"Hello, Sirius," Lily said. It was clear that, even if he insisted on calling her by her last name, she'd continue to use his first name.
"Feel free to call me Black," Sirius said, sitting down across from James. "I'm used to hearing it from Snivelly."
Lily visibly tensed, and James remembered that Lily had heard Snape talking to Dumbledore--most likely, she knew what Sirius had done. By his name calling and showing that he hadn't learned his lesson, James was afraid that the animosity between them would become so thick that they would never get along, even if Lily had been the one to tell James to forgive him.
"Sirius," James said, glancing at Lily's face, "maybe--er--could you be nice?"
Sirius gaped at him, and James figured out very quickly that he'd just broken some unspoken rule.
"What?" Sirius's voice came out in a whisper.
"Well…yeah," James said, shifting around in his seat. "I mean--you know that Evans is friends with him."
"Evans?" Lily asked, raising her eyebrows. He knew she was highly amused, but he became nervous and felt that they were both putting pressure on him.
"Lily, sorry, Lily." James was beginning to sweat, knowing that things were only getting worse and thinking quickly as to how to get out of the situation. Sirius was glaring daggers at Lily, but she was completely unaware of it, instead watching an owl fly toward her.
"That's odd," Lily said. "Petty and everyone owled me the other day…"
Sirius turned towards James.
"So you're defending her now?" he sneered. "That's really great, James. Put a girl before your best mate. You know, just because she snogs you doesn't mean you have to take her side."
"We do not snog!" James said, his face turning beet red. "You know, you're just a fucking arse, is what you are!"
"Oh, an arse, am I? Well, let me tell you I'm not the one who was turned into a chicken by a girl who he doesn't even get a snog from!"
James was about to reply furiously when Lily made a choking sound. All four of them turned to look at her.
"What the hell?" Sirius asked, bewildered. "Why's she crying, Prongs? Is she that much of a girl? Is she honestly crying just because of what I said?"
James ignored his babbling.
"Lily?"
Lily grabbed at her heart, looking as though she was having a hard time breathing. Then she started to make odd sounds, the horrible sounds James expected a dying person would have made, then put her head in her hands and shaking horribly.
"Lily?" he asked again, standing up. But he could already tell, having seen it happen numerous times before. He'd seen it when Remus had gotten a similar letter. Realizing that other people were beginning to notice and knowing it could only make things worse, he quickly grabbed her, ignoring all qualms he had about touching girls, and dragged her out, letting her lean almost completely against him as she sobbed as though her body was breaking in half. He kept going, ignoring all questions and jokes from people who didn't realize how serious the situation was until they were in an empty classroom.
"She's dead. She--my mum--" she bawled, crying so hard that the sobs were barely recognizable. She sounded as though her heart was being ripped into tiny pieces. It hurt James just to hear it, and, instinctively, wrapped his arms around her in an awkward hug. At once, Lily clutched his robes and buried her face into his chest, clinging to him like life itself.
"I c-can't--" she wheezed, choking and hiccupping. "Ohhh…"
She grabbed him around the waist and sobbed heavily. James felt strange; he knew what his personality would dictate in a situation like this, but something inside him was shifting and it was telling him exactly what to do and say. He found words, words that didn't even seem to make sense, tumbling from his mouth before he could even think.
"Shh," he said. "It'll be alright…I won't leave you Lily, I promise…" He knew that things wouldn't be alright for her and that his presence could hardly make up for whatever happened, but she nodded quickly and for so long that he began to realize she couldn't make herself stop. Gently, he took her chin in his hand, and she stopped at once.
"You promise?" she sobbed, pulling away slightly and looking at him. Her face was splotchy and her nose was runny, and James found his heart filling with pity and tenderness, two things he didn't find there often. He nodded, and she put her head back in his robes, shaking and sobbing silently until, after what could have been a minute or an hour, she ran out of tears.
"We should leave," she said thickly. "Someone will want this classroom."
"Who cares about them?"
Lily gave him a weak smile, but he could tell she could barely hear him. He sat her down in a chair and sat next to her. She was staring at the floor, as though it caused her too much pain to look anywhere else.
"D'you want to read it?" she asked weakly, putting her head down on a desk.
"Do you want me to?"
Lily shrugged, and he could see, from the trembling of her shoulders, that she had begun another bout of sobbing. He wondered something suddenly--had her mother been killed by Voldemort? Curiosity and dread filling him, James picked up the abandoned letter and read,
Lily,
I'm not quite sure how to write this--do I tell you straight off or say something first? I know how you hate when people inch around a subject, so I'll just tell you straight off. Your mummy died last night, love. She was in a car accident, and the doctors say she probably died at once.
Needless to say, this was unexpected, and things are hard. Petunia, especially, is having a hard time adjusting; you know how close they were. She's angry, but know that whatever she says she doesn't mean.
I'm sorry to have to interrupt your school studies to tell you this, and I'm sorry to disrupt the happiness that you've written about. The funeral is on the seventh, and it's your decision whether you come or not. Petunia and I will understand either way.
Love,
Dad
James could see several wet spots and scribbles, as though Lily's father had been crying as he wrote and had made several mistakes--whole paragraphs were crossed out. Somehow, though, he was relieved that it hadn't been Voldemort. He didn't say this aloud, because he knew that it didn't make a difference to Lily right now. She'd be crying just as hard even if Voldemort had been the source of her mother's death.
"D'you--d'you want me to leave you alone?" James asked awkwardly. Lily stood up at once and grabbed his hands.
"Please don't," she said brokenly. "No matter what I say--don't leave me alone. I can't--" She broke off, and James felt immensely stupid for having even suggested it. Lily lowered herself back into her seat, and as she alternated between stunned silence and hiccupping sobs, James tried to comprehend the reality of the situation. Thinking about it, it didn't seem right. He'd met Lily's mum, he'd talked to her. It seemed like only a moment ago she was threatening him with a knife jokingly. And now, she'd died, died in some silly Muggle thing that he'd barely understood in Muggle Studies. At least, when Remus's mum had died they'd had some warning. She'd always been sick, ever since he'd met her. Lily's mum, though, she had life and energy. How could she just…
When James looked at Lily again, she had lowered her head to the desk, but it was tilted up just enough so that he could see that she had fallen asleep. He studied her face. Tears lined the blotchy surface, and even in her sleep she looked desperately unhappy. It unsettled him and, transfiguring a feather laying on the floor into a handkerchief, he wiped the wetness off her face gently, trying hard not to wake her. She moved and her eyes fluttered, but she didn't wake up.
James found it odd that he could watch her so easily. He'd known since the day he first saw her that Lily was pretty, something that he rarely acknowledged girls to be. And yet, even when he'd seen girls who were prettier than her, some of the most beautiful girls in the wizarding world, he'd soon grow tired of looking at them, their sheer beauty overwhelming and exhausting him. Lily, he realized in that moment, was one person he'd never grown tired of looking at. Even now, when her face looked haggard and swollen, he could barely look away.
"Shit," he whispered. "I fancy her, don't I?" Saying it aloud sounded ridiculous, but the truth in it shook him. He slumped in his seat--yes, he had fancied her for a while now. He'd just been too thick to admit it to himself. The feeling of admission was strange and it made him a bit lightheaded--he'd fancied so few girls, but now the attraction was undeniable, and the more it sunk in, the more a stream of affection that he'd dammed up came pouring out, until he had to tear his eyes away from her to keep from waking her up and telling her, right then and there. But then, something hit him.
"Shit," he said again. How could he tell her? Even in the best of times, he couldn't just tell her that he'd decided he fancied her. For one thing, what if she didn't fancy him? And for another, what if she did? Now it would be even worse. He couldn't tell her something like that when she was mourning for her mother. It would be awkward and strange for everyone. James stood up and began to pace, running a hand through his hair. Much as he didn't want to admit it, he wanted to talk to Sirius about it. Sirius had always been the expert on all things girl-related, and now he needed him more than ever.
He was about to rush out when Lily stirred in her sleep. At once, James's knees buckled and he sat down next to her. Having discovered this, he didn't want to leave her, as though someone else would discover that they, too, fancied her and tell her before he did. No, it was better not to leave her, he decided. Besides, he'd promised not to leave her alone, and he intended to be there when she woke up.
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