Chapter Six--Intrigue
6.1
Predawn dimness was barely beginning to rim the fog-shrouded horizon as I sat cross-legged under my coverlet with my back to the wall, loosely hugging a pillow to my chest as my mind raced. I had long since given up on sleeping, my adrenaline barely controlled enough for me to remain in bed. The hours that I had been awake had been long, and though my eyes burned and my brain yearned to rest, still, I could not help remembering brief snatches of conversation, banter that had seemed so meaningless at the time it had been spoken.
I could be... teaching myself how to turn into an Animagus, for all you know. I had shrugged that one off, blind fool that I was. ...No, you're right-I'm beyond that level. My stomach clenched with embarrassment and misplaced anxiety at the thought that he had probably been laughing at me the whole time.
Vaguely, I heard the sound of the tap running, and my eyes jarred back into focus as I trained them in the direction of the bathroom. I had half a mind to confront him then and there… but held myself back.
We agreed to wait to talk to them until morning, I thought furiously to myself as the hinges to the other bathroom door creaked. And then: Are you afraid of all Animagi, Evans?
"No," I breathed to myself before scrambling out of bed. Throwing on my dressing gown and stumbling over the robes that I had carelessly cast aside earlier, I rushed into the bathroom. Ignoring my frazzled reflection, I peered through the narrowly opened doorway into James' darkened room. There was no motion; he must have crawled into bed.
I hesitated a moment before pushing the door open and letting myself into his room. Arms out, hands searching, I made my way blindly to the foot of the bed.
"James-"
I recoiled, shielding my eyes, as a dazzling light erupted before me. Squinting to focus, I could make out James sitting up with his lit wand trained on me, looking surprised and slightly odd without his glasses.
"Lily!" he exclaimed in a vehement whisper, lowering his wand arm and instinctively yanking his sheets to cover his bare chest with the other. "What the bloody hell d'you think you're doing?"
"I didn't mean to startle you." I said quietly, before hardening my voice and crossing my arms, looking down at him from the foot of his bed. "But I mean to find out what you think you are doing. And don't say that you can't explain because you're beyond my level."
He squinted at me, mostly-feigned confusion crossing his face. "I have no idea what you're talking about; my concussion, you know-"
"Don't, Potter," I said warningly, cutting him off and forcing myself not to raise my voice. "Don't lie to me. We-we know that Remus is a werewolf."
He flinched and scrubbed a hand through his hair, plainly trying to decide how to react, before lighting the lamp on his bedside table and extinguishing his wand tip. "We?" he asked gruffly as he tossed back his sheet and crawled out of bed, clearly dropping the act.
I started, noticing the rising welts and scratches that marred his arms and back and trailed down even lower. I hesitated a moment before turning away to face the window, not wanting him to catch me staring even though he didn't appear to mind whether or not I had my eyes on him. "Alice, Emmeline, and me," I said, leaning against the wall and staring across the grounds at the falling moon. I shivered suddenly, still half-way unbelieving, as I remembered the gleam in that werewolf's eyes.
Sensing motion in the edge of my vision, I turned to find that James had donned a shirt and pajama bottoms and was now leaning opposite me at the window. His lip had split again, and I couldn't help noticing tension behind his carefully-built mask of stoicism.
"How?" he asked, crossing his arms loosely and giving me a deliberate look.
"We saw him," I said dryly. "We were taking a shortcut back from the lake when we came across…" I hesitated a moment before shaking myself and stabbing on. "Anyway, some animals started fighting and I realized that one of the animals was no normal wolf. Sometime between dashing away from it and arriving back in the Common Room, Alice realized that the werewolf was… Remus. The evidence is quite plain, if you look at it the right way."
"Hm." His face betraying nothing, James turned to survey the grounds. It wasn't until my following words that he stiffened.
"We decided that it was a given that you, Sirius, and Peter know of Remus' condition… but I don't think that either Emmeline or Alice have realized that you three were out on the grounds as well." I paused to let him mull over the implication of my statement. "I didn't think of it until a few hours ago. It must have been some work, figuring out how to become Animagi-I don't suppose you were born one, eh, Prongs?"
"I knew this was coming." He rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands and sighed wearily, as though finally encountering something that he had long since been dreading. Yet now that the moment had passed, he could release the tension in his body and mind the way I had seen him do so many times before. When he finally spoke again, he said, "In a way, I'm glad that you know. I…don't like keeping things from people I care about."
I looked askance at him, relaxing a little with the knowledge that this wouldn't come to blows. "No pleas for secrecy, no justifications?"
"Not today," he said, turning away from the window. I hesitated a moment, watching how the fog formed a halo around the rising sun as it was burned away, before spinning to face him. He was standing in the center of his room looking limp with one hand on his hip and the other hanging by his side, loosely holding his glasses. He stared absently at the floor, apparently deep in thought.
"Why not?" I asked quietly, hardly daring to break into his sudden musings.
He looked up at me, resilience burning in his eyes, and smiled faintly. "Because I don't think you need to hear them."
I frowned as the weight of his trust settled upon me. Trying to suppress the war for supremacy that my tangled feelings were waging-flip-flopping from anger, shock, and humiliation to pride and admiration-I met his glance, letting the heat from the new sun fuel me. "We… have some things to share with one another, James."
He nodded. "Yes-but, not now," he said, his voice somehow light as he placed his glasses on his face and looked me up and down. "Forgive me for the diagnosis, but you look like hell warmed over-it's probably best if you try to get a few hours of sleep before class."
"And you think you look any better?" I muttered with near-annoyance at the dismissal, rolling my bleary eyes as I brushed past him yet knowing that he was right. I was nearly to the doorway when he caught my hand and gently tugged me to a stop. I turned to face him on tenterhooks, my nerves dancing where his fingers pressed into my palm and tension beginning to build as possibilities of what could come next began forming in my sleep-deprived brain.
I didn't give him a chance to speak or do anything else. "Your lip is bleeding again," I ventured tentatively, suddenly and inexplicably afraid of finding out the reason why he had gently demanded that I stay the way he had.
His eyes found mine as he tongued his lower lip. "I reckon it is." He didn't seem to care.
I took a small step back from him, testing to see if he'd let my hand slip from his. He didn't. "You should probably clean yourself up… I imagine that you don't want to show up to class looking as though you just wrestled a troll."
He shrugged. "It'll make me seem more dashing."
I laughed, surprising myself. "Yeah, dashing," I said sarcastically, raising my eyebrows at him. "That's the word that comes to mind."
Still, he was staring at me as intently as ever, a satisfied grin on his face. His grip on my hand was both gentle and insistent, and I feared that if I stayed within his reach for much longer, I might somehow betray myself. A half-formed notion stirred within me, one suggesting that I could either love or hate him for his ability to both inflame passion within me and touch my soul-but that flat out giving into him or refusing to yield at all would lead to both of our destruction, no matter which way I chose. I somehow sensed that without this struggle, this tricky balance between give-and-take, lover and rival, our budding relationship would grow to be worthless and far less than either of us deserved.
"What do you want?" I whispered not unkindly, meeting his gaze and searching freckled hues of green, brown, and blue as I asked.
As though he could read something in my eyes, perhaps a deeper meaning to my words, he reluctantly let my hand slip from his. "Save me some time this Saturday and we'll talk, yeah?" His voice was even, betraying none of the conflicting desires and fears that I knew were running through his mind.
"That sounds… fine." Recognizing the conflicts arising in my own thoughts, I could admit to feeling slightly off-kilter, if only to myself, but amazingly my voice was just as steady and impassive as his had been.
"Looking forward to it," he said softly before inclining his head at me, as if to seal the deal. "I won't keep you any longer…"
"Yes. Well… good morning." Feeling a bit out-of-body-due to lack of sleep, I told myself-I slowly turned away and passed through the bathroom, resisting the urge to flex my hand while berating myself for acting like some Amortentia-sotted first year. James, I growled in my mind, why do I let you do this to me?
"Oy, Lily!" He called wryly, suddenly spry once more. "I never said that `hell warmed over' was a bad thing!"
Smiling slightly, I slammed the door in my wake.
6.2
I stumbled into Potions several hours later without having eaten breakfast, feeling utterly disheveled as I began sorting ingredients for my Veritaserum. I had only been at my table for a few moments before Professor Slughorn ambled by for one of our usual chats.
"Oh-ho, Lily!" he boomed, unwrapping a piece of crystallized pineapple and popping it into his mustached mouth as he smiled down at me. "Did someone slip you a sip of the Six Years' Drought of Living Death?"
"Very funny, Professor." I rolled my eyes at him and dropped my bag under the desk. "Don't you have to go hand-select the next Minister of Magic or something?"
"You watch your tongue, young lady," he laughed, offering me a piece of the pineapple, which I refused. "But speaking of up-and-coming young celebrities, where were you for last night's Slug Club meeting?"
The smile slipped off my face. Right, the Slug Club-a gathering of students who Slughorn felt would really make something of themselves one day. I felt honored that he held me in such high regard, but the meetings were somewhat bland to my tastes, and I took every excuse I could to miss them. "Er, sorry, Professor. After the drama at the match, I-"
I was saved from answering by the arrival of Bertram. Slughorn, who didn't much like Bertram because of his merely average Potions performance (though he tried not to let it show), gave Bertram a curt nod, mumbled something about potion ingredients, and bustled off to the store room. I mouthed a heartfelt "thank you" to the lad once Slughorn was out of sight.
He grinned and began unpacking his bag. "Think nothing of it-the old codger-but, I do have a question for you."
"Yeah?" I asked, my eyes down as I began slicing a crocodile heart.
"So, this Saturday we're free to go into Hogsmeade-though I'm sure you already knew that," he stammered. "And, and I was wondering if you'd like to go… with me?"
My hand jerked, ruining the job I had done on the heart. Damn, I thought to myself, my heart beginning to beat quicker than normal as I glanced up and spotted James entering the dungeon. He met my glance and raised an eyebrow at me in greeting, a private smile on his lips, and I looked hurriedly away before I could begin to blush. Hogsmeade is this Saturday? That means I…
"Er, Lily?"
I realized that I had begun shredding the already ruined heart. "Sorry?"
Grinning, Bertram put his hand on mine, gently working the knife from my grasp and setting it aside. "I asked if you'd like to go into Hogsmeade with me."
I saw the hope in his face fade as I met his eyes. "I'm sorry, Bertram, but I can't…"
He looked abruptly away. "It's fine. I just thought-"
"It's just that James-I mean, Potter," I stammered, trying to justify myself but failing miserably.
Bertram's eyes narrowed over his work. "You're going with him?" his whispered vehemently, and I suddenly remembered that Bertram was one of the students that James and Sirius always used to bully when they were younger.
"No, it's not like that. We have a few things we need to talk about-"
He pushed my knife back to me and bent over his cauldron. "I never thought you'd sink to the likes of him, Lily."
I paused, shocked. This wasn't the Bertram I knew. "He's my fellow Head, Bertram," I ventured, stung. "It's not a date, and even if it was, he's not a horrible human being-"
Bertram snorted disbelievingly. "Okay, Lily. Whatever you say."
I took a breath and opened my mouth to utter some as-of-yet unplanned retort. Abandoning that attempt once it was clear that no words would come, I rose shakily and stumbled from my seat over to the store cabinets; I had never been one to deal well with confrontation. I was rifling through the various ingredients, searching for a fresh crocodile heart, when I heard a low, sneering laugh from the nearby table.
"Did I really hear what I think I just heard? How cute, the two Heads, pairing up."
I straightened, resisting the urge to throw the shredded crocodile heart at Severus Snape's face, and instead tipped it into the rubbish bin. "This really isn't a good time," I said, closing the cabinet doors, intending to pass right by Severus' table without stopping or even looking at him. Which, of course, I ended up doing.
"I never thought I'd see the day, Evans," Snape said, looking up from his potion. I paused at his remark; it seemed almost a challenge. "Though I can't say I'm disappointed-really, a Mudblood like you and a bastard like him deserve one another."
"Oh, I meant to ask," I said airily, ignoring the insults. "How is that batch of detentions going-nothing too hard, right? Still scrubbing the owlery every night?"
Snape bared his teeth at me and I almost began walking triumphantly away before I noticed the fresh spots of ink marring the pages of Snape's Advanced Potions test. With a cursory glance at the open page, I noticed that a handful of the lines of instructions had been blotted out and new directions had been scrawled into the margins.
"Why have you done that?" I asked absently, bending forward for a closer look. I didn't get it; Snape snapped the book closed and pushed it to the other side of the table. Looking up from the desk, reading the defiant look in his eyes, a thought occurred to me. "…You know," I said quietly, hardly above a whisper, "I'm not naive enough to assume that you're stupid just because I don't like you."
"Shove off," he muttered tersely, glaring queerly at me from under his greasy bangs.
I shrugged nonchalantly and turned away, glad to be rid of his company. As I sat back in my seat and began dicing the fresh crocodile heart, I was acutely aware of Snape's brooding glance and Bertram's furtive looks. They were burning holes into me.
6.3
I was still brewing over James, Snape, and Bertram during break several hours later, though I attempted to keep my growing speculations and curiosity bottled in the back of my mind. Taking advantage of the Common Room's near abandonment, I commandeered two tables under a window and spread my work atop them, allowing the bright sunlight to illuminate the various textbooks as I cross-checked references for my History of Magic essay. I worked diligently to keep myself from dwelling on the three men, only stopping when someone paused purposefully aside my table, blocking the light. I glanced up, squinting to see through the sun-cast silhouette.
It was Remus.
My mouth dropped open with wordless surprise as I surveyed him, taking in the shadows under his tired eyes, the slight but haggard slump of his shoulders. Still, his brown eyes were sharp, clear, and he smiled as he gestured to the seat across from me.
"You mind? Personally, I'll take any excuse to have a break from a History of Magic essay."
"Oh, sure," I said nearly breathlessly, shutting a bookmark into the tome in front of me. He nodded, a determined look on his face as he gingerly lowered himself into the chair. He caught me staring at him.
"A trip to the Hospital Wing gets rid of bumps and bruises, but it doesn't always get the ache." He paused to rest his chin lazily on one hand. "So… you know, it's been a long time since I've had this conversation."
I stared at him, not knowing what to say. But he saved me from having to speak.
"I received the bite when I was a boy, so I've lived with this for a while," he said, his eyes slipping past mine to stare off into the Common Room as he spoke. "Though truth to tell, it's not something that I've ever gotten used to."
I snorted at his dry tone, and he smiled ruefully before continuing. "I always expected that I wouldn't be able to go to school-a werewolf, in a school full of children? It was too much to hope, too much to risk. I swore I'd never turn out like that poor fellow who bit me…"
He looked away with a sharp intake of breath, and I simply sat there, my heart pounding. "But you're here."
He chuckled, quietly. "It's thanks to Dumbledore that I'm here, and thanks to my friends that I'm sane. I'm so lucky to have those three blokes stand with me. You might have guessed, Lily, but we…" he trailed off as he brought his attention back to me, crossing his arms on the table. "We have secrets."
I inclined my head knowingly at him as I said, "A few less well-kept than others, though you four did hide the true meaning of the nicknames very well…"
He cocked an eyebrow at me before shaking his head abruptly, as if to clear it. "I didn't come here to talk about that."
I frowned. "Then what-"
"Lily, I came over here because we're friends," he whispered fervently. "Or… were. And I just… wanted to see where you stand, knowing what you know now. Knowing what I am."
Touched, tears welled up suddenly in my eyes at his earnest words and I reached out to lay a hand on his forearm. Squeezing it, I said, "Remus, I may not be an Animagi, and I can't be with you during your transformations-" I suppressed a shiver as I recalled my nightmare-"but I'm not going to desert you or our friendship."
"Good." He smiled before sitting back in his chair, his arm sliding from my grasp. Slowly, painfully, he stood. Before leaving, he paused. "Then please, I ask you to consider one thing: I am different, yes-but only if I am thought of as `different' by others."
With a small wave, he disappeared up the spiraling staircase of the Boys' Dormitories.
6.4
Saturday morning found me in Hagrid's garden, resting my forearms upon a chest-high pumpkin as I leaned into the cutting Autumn wind, eyes closed, not caring that it was whipping my robes and hair into a frenzy. The pumpkin leached cold into my skin and yet I remained there, listening unconcernedly through the reedy wind as the last few students trotted down the path to Hogsmeade.
I was waiting for James. Our task was simple: help Hagrid sort the pumpkins by size, carve the largest ones for the Halloween feast, and, once carved, send the pulp and seeds to the kitchen for use in pies and pumpkin juice. I took a deep breath to stem my rising impatience; James was late, and I wanted this done so that we would be free to find somewhere private to talk.
Suddenly the support from the pumpkin vanished. I squawked and flailed my arms, once, in a futile attempt to regain my balance, before thrusting them before me to catch my fall. My eyes opened just as I landed on the cold dirt that used to rest under the pumpkin. Eyes flashing with anger, I turned toward the sound of laughter and saw James standing not too far off, not bothering to smother his impish smile as he tucked his wand back into his robes.
"I'm sorry," he wheezed though his laughter as he strode toward me, "but that was too perfect an opportunity to pass up."
I glared at him but laughed weakly in spite of myself. In half a moment he had reached me and offered his hands to help me up. Still glaring, but only mildly, I ignored his offer for help and picked myself off of the ground. "You'd better watch your back," I said, my voice half flat, half joking.
"I always do," he said simply, smiling down at me.
Shivering and avoiding his eyes, suddenly feeling nervous, I wiped my hands hastily together to knock off the dirt, ignoring the leaves caught on my robes. "Er, shall we get started, then?"
He nodded and turned away to Summon back Hagrid's prized pumpkin. As he did so the wind picked up, buffeting us for a moment in a whirl of dried skittering leaves. Roughly twining itself through his hair and running along his body, it flattened his robes, contouring them against his chest and legs in a way that seemed almost intimate. I watched, oddly captivated, as James was forced back a step before he steadied himself.
I wish I was the wind.
The thought came from nowhere, and with it came a small smile. Knowing vaguely in the back of my mind that I was going insane, I forced my eyes-and thoughts-away from James. More to distract myself than anything else, I set to work.
6.5
At long last, after all of the pumpkins had been sorted, we began the long walk to Hogsmeade, the noon-high sun offering no warmth to our trek. It was pleasant in a way, though: the utter cold, senses alert to the scarce sounds of our feet crunching down the graveled path and the wind whistling through stiff blades of grass and leaves on its way to stir the gray lake. Each breath was cold and sharp and clear, inhaled almost painfully only to be warmed within our bodies and expelled as steam… but then, I had always found the cold exhilarating.
"…and then the Centaur-Chiron, you said his name was?-just disappeared with the herd?" James asked incredulously, slapping a hand companionably against one of the Griffin statues flanking the Hogwarts gate as we passed by. "Without explaining anything he'd just said?"
"Yeah." I shrugged, crossing my arms and tucking my hands under my armpits for warmth. "I'm not sure he knew what he meant himself. It was like he was foretelling the future by reading the stars. It was strange." I frowned, thinking of the encounter, before looking expectantly at James for a reply, eager for a fresh opinion about the Centaur's words; Emmeline, Alice, and I had rehashed that evening so many times that most of Chiron's dialog didn't even seem to make sense anymore.
"Hmm." James fiddled with the red and gold scarf around his neck, wrapping it tighter again the cold, before tossing me an unreadable look. "Well, I'm sorry that I herded him off before he could finish explaining, in any case."
I smiled grimly at him. "He was leaving anyway. I think the Centaurs have caught on to what you lot are up to."
"I'm surprised they noticed." He chuckled weakly. "Perhaps it was written in the stars?"
We shared a grin before lapsing into silence, our conversation dwindling away. Occupied with our separate thoughts-and I had no idea what James was thinking, glancing back and forth from me to the frozen landscape surrounding us-neither of us spoke until the cottages and shops of Hogsmeade appeared in view.
"So," said James as we ambled slowly down the High Street, "where do you want to start?" He gestured briefly down the lane, indicating the plethora of student-choked stores, before stuffing his hands in his robe pockets to keep them out of the cold. "I don't need to stock up on anything."
"I want to start with how you managed it," I said pointedly, eying him sideways. "I want to know how you managed the magic, and how long you've been doing it. And how the bloody hell you've been able to sneak out of the castle once a month without being caught."
He stopped in the street, turned to face me with a smirk that didn't lose any of its effect despite being viewed with his ruddy nose and cheeks. "We managed it because we're the bleeding Mauraders-"
I rolled my eyes at him. "Don't give me that-you said we'd talk. So talk."
"I agreed to a conversation, not an interrogation." He raised his eyebrows at me, his grin growing at my impatience. "A conversation over a hot drink sounds even more appealing."
I paused as yet another icy blast of air jetted into us. Trying to keep my teeth from chattering and wishing I had brought gloves-my numb fingers were becoming painful to flex-I turned toward him. "Are you buying?"
He laughed, catching my sleeve and tugging me into The Three Broomsticks. "Are you kidding?"
James hustled me good-naturedly through the crowded pub toward an empty booth in the back, or tried-to, but I managed to tug myself free from him halfway across the room. I smiled, devilishly satisfied, at his back as he headed to the bar-I'd be damned if I didn't put up a fight-before stepping toward the booth and colliding right into Bertram Aubrey.
"Bertram!" I yelped, grabbing one of his sleeves to steady our balance while he toggled the fizzing drinks he was carrying, trying not to let them slosh all over the floor. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going-"
"It's fine, really," he said soothingly as he finally restored his balance. He smiled awkwardly. "Enjoying Hogsmeade, even though you're on duty?"
I shrugged, releasing his robes to straighten my own. "We've just gotten here, actually. Hagrid needed help in the pumpkin patch."
"Ah, well…" he hesitated, took a deep breath. "Would you like a drink?"
"Thanks, but I've got one on the way," I said blithely, before it dawned on me how the situation must appear to Bertram. I already told him I wasn't on a date, as if that matters, I thought furiously as I quickly gestured to the bar and tried to think of a way to ease myself out of the increasingly awkward conversation; I knew full well that the heat spreading into my face was not just a product of the blazing fireplace. At that moment, James appeared at the booth and began scanning the crowd for me, a tankard of Butterbeer in each hand. When his eyes met mine he smiled and proffered a drink.
I turned back to Bertram, biting my under lip and hoping to make light of the situation; I didn't want to loose that fellow as a friend, and I feared it might already be too late. "I've got to go, actually. But maybe next time, all right?"
Bertram nodded, his gray eyes finding James as well. "Next time, then," he said, but his voice was strained, brusque, and in the next moment he had brushed coolly by me and was lost in the crowd. I shook my head as I made my way over to James.
"Is it just me, or did it just get a lot colder in here?" joked James, raising his voice to speak over the din as I slid into the booth across from him. Accepting the Butterbeer gratefully and ignoring the bemused looks that other Sixth and Seventh Years shot in our direction, I took a sip before answering him.
"I don't know what's gotten into Bertram lately," I said, reaching into my pockets for a handful of Knuts, buoyed by the warm drink. "Ever since he asked me here today... but I don't want to date him…" I trailed off, surprising myself with this revelation, and after a slight pause, I flipped the coins to James. "For the drink."
He raised his eyebrows at the coins, or maybe it was my statement. "I don't-"
"Keep them."
"If you insist." He sighed and pocketed the money before tilting his head at me pensively, his Butterbeer momentarily forgotten. "You know, about Bertram… I think they call that jealousy."
I choked on the sip I had just taken. "Come again?"
"What's gotten into him," James repeated. "It's obvious: he's jealous."
I quirked an eyebrow at James, hearing the un-uttered "of me" at the end of his sentence. I had to concede the point, though-if Bertram knew a tenth of my thoughts concerning James, he'd be more than simply jealous. If James knew… "Maybe," I finally said, and buried my face in my tankard to hide my blush.
James smiled, but had the sense not to say anything more on the topic.
6.6
We sat in the pub for some time while James explained how they discovered that Remus was a werewolf and figured out what they could do to remain safe around him when he transformed-become Animaji. It had taken a lot of studying and a bit of luck to manage it, he said, but once everything had settled into a routine, sneaking out of the castle and into the Whomping Willow just required silence and timing. I had been staring out of the window as I listened, idly watching various students through the windows of other buildings or as they milled about in the street, but at those last words I turned to meet his eyes.
"Silence and timing?" I asked doubtfully, before taking the last swig of my third Butterbeer and leaning toward him intently. I hoped he felt as though my eyes were boring into him. "That's it? And you've never been seen?"
"Well, I never said that we were never seen," he said slowly, shifting uncomfortably on his seat. "But the castle does offer quite a few short-cuts and get-aways."
I nodded, mulling over his words while images of James as a stag danced around my head. I was still trying to make sense of how mad-and admirable-they were when Sirius sauntered up to the booth. Leaning casually against the table, he crossed his arms and grinned at the pair of us.
"This looks cozy," he said wryly, shooting a congratulatory look at James and grinning as I rolled my eyes at him.
"Yeah, Sirius?" asked James, looking up at his friend with curiosity before downing the rest of his drink in one smooth motion and setting the tankard on the table with a loud clunk, obviously trying to mask his relief that the appearance of his friend had once again kept him from expanding on an answer he really didn't want to give.
"I won't bother you long, mate, but I was wondering if you could turn out your pockets for me? I need to borrow a few Sickles." He stared expectantly at James for a moment before James reacted.
"You know you already owe me," James said smoothly, reaching into his pockets and simultaneously passing Sirius something under the table, attempting to be discreet about it. I caught a glimpse of a folded piece of parchment disappearing under Sirius' robes before James presented his friend with several silver coins. James ran a hand through his hair as Sirius gave him a mock-bow and tossed me a look.
"If you had only listened to me when I told you three to be in by curfew…" He shook his head slowly. "I guess it doesn't matter now." He turned to go, leaving me staring blankly at his back, an odd, anxious feeling washing over my shoulders. That bastard, tried to warn us all along and we had no idea…
"Oh, one last thing," Sirius muttered under his breath, turning back to face me. I looked up at him with full attention, expecting another admonition. But all I got was, "No hard feelings about that stunner you fired at me." And with a grin, he left.
I exchanged a look with James, who simply shrugged, glanced at his empty glass, and said, "Have I answered all of your questions? We should probably see to rounding up the rest of the students and getting them back up to the castle..."
"You've settled my curiosity for now I suppose," I nodded, deciding to bring up the parchment later. As we stood, I narrowed my eyes mischievously at him. "Actually, I do have one last question."
He swiped a hand through his hair. "Yeah?"
"What's it like, being a deer?"
He rolled his eyes and chuckled, giving me a playful push toward the door. "Ask me nicely sometime and I'll tell you."
But as we parted on the High Street, each of us heading in a different direction to round up the students, I could tell by the long, searching look he directed at me that he sensed something was still unsettling me, that I knew he had left too much unsaid.
6.7
Trying to ignore my overly-full stomach-the Halloween feast had been superb, as usual-I tapped my deck of Exploding Snap cards on the Common Room table, evening them out sharply before shuffling.
It was past midnight, and most students, tired from a day gallivanting around Hogsmeade, had gone to bed. A few clusters of students still remained awake to study or play, however, so I kept a sharp eye out for eavesdroppers from our corner of the Common Room, a nook into which Emmeline and I had dragged a small table and Alice had dumped as many pillows as she could find. As I dealt the cards and began to play, we chatted about the day's adventures; Emmeline and Alice had gotten an early start to Christmas shopping, and exchanged knowing smiles when commenting on how awful it must have been for me to spend the whole day with James.
"It was informative," I finally admitted. Pretending to study my hand, I peered across the Common Room toward where the man in question was sitting with his friends before the fire, drinking pumpkin juice and playing idle games of Wizard Chess as he talked, sprawled as he was over an armchair. Satisfied that the four fellows were paying no-nevermind to us, I finally told Alice and Emmeline of my suspicions and the gist of what James had confirmed to me.
"You suspected something like that and never told us-" Emmeline began hotly, but Alice cut her off.
"They're bloody brilliant!" she exclaimed in a whisper, looking over her shoulder at the lot. They didn't look it quite at that particular moment; James had knocked over his goblet and was yelling practically incoherently at his chess pieces to listen to him as Sirius urged his own queen on, grinning mischievously. Meanwhile, Remus and Peter were swapping Sickles; apparently they had put a bet on the game.
I snorted, shaking my head at the sight. "Brilliant? Yeah, model students, they are."
"They're mad is what they are," corrected Emmeline, ignoring my sarcasm, though she eyed the four with some approval. "And stupid, even if it is admirable of them to take such risks for a friend…"
"Well, stop staring," I hissed under my breath, looking pointedly down at my cards. "They'll realize we're talking about them and I'm not sure if I was supposed to say anything-"
"Oh, don't worry," said Emmeline, turning to face me with a grin. She laid down her cards, a hand to trump mine. "I'm sure they expected you to."
But worried or not, she still gasped and jumped just as high as Alice and me when Peter suddenly appeared beside the table, carrying an owl.
"Peter!" I yelped in surprise, chucking a pillow at his head as retaliation for the shock. "Don't sneak up on us like that!"
"Alice," he said hesitantly after sidestepping the pillow, holding out her bird and eyeing us as if we had gone mad. "You've got a letter. Your owl was tapping at the window…"
"It must be from Frank!" Alice exclaimed, jumping to her feet, just catching herself from tripping over the strewn-about pillows. She pecked Peter on the check as she took the letter from the bird's beak. It promptly nipped her fingers affectionately before spreading its wings and swooping out of the still-opened window. "Thanks, Peter!" she said as she broke the seal on the scroll and began pacing the room to read it.
Standing awkwardly alone, Peter smiled at us slightly before shaking light brown bangs out of his eyes and turning to go, but Emmeline stopped him. "One thing," she said with the utmost seriousness, tapping a finger to her lips thoughtfully.
He paused, raising his eyebrows at her expectantly, his beady eyes widening nervously. "What's that?"
Emmeline tossed me a quick look before turning back to Peter, a smirk quirking her lips. "Why a rat?" My mouth fell open incredulously as Peter rolled his eyes.
"Look," he said, splaying his hands. "It had to be something small, so that…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "Oh, never mind." He turned with a long-suffering sigh and stalked back to the fire, Emmeline's interested "Yeah, but why a rat?" following him to his seat.
"Emmeline…" I groaned once he had gone, sliding down into the scattered pillows to hide my embarrassment from the rest of the room. "You have no tact, do you?"
A moment later, the boys began sniggering loudly, and I strained to see James shaking his head amusedly and patting a flustered Peter good-naturedly on the back. Remus was grinning from behind the book he had been flipping through, and Sirius was attempting to speak through his laughter. "Oy," he wheezed in our direction, toasting his goblet in Emmeline's direction. "Good one, Vance!"
She smiled back at him, guiltily pleased at his praise.
"Really, you're just as bad as they are, Emmeli-" I began, before catching sight of Alice, who was standing stock still, staring at the letter in her hands. Furrowing my eyebrows as I noticed that Alice's blank face seemed drawn, I pushed myself to my feet and hurried over to her, a suddenly sober Emmeline on my heels.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my stomach sinking. I shared a worried look with Emmeline, and over her shoulder I noticed that Remus and James had seen the commotion and were frowning concernedly over at Alice.
"Oh, nothing. Frank's been promoted, that's all," said Alice vaguely, folding the letter into sixths with shaking hands and pressing the creases sharp nervously. "He didn't say much, but he did mention that he's being sent to a 'facility in the north' for the next few weeks to reevaluate security." The corner of her mouth trembled and she turned away to face the window. "A facility in the north… that means Azkaban. I'm going to bed."
And with that, she walked slowly toward the staircase; we stared silently after her, not knowing how to react to her abrupt departure, until she had disappeared behind the doorway. As it clicked shut behind her, Emmeline started. "What am I thinking? Of course she needs to talk about it…"
She squeezed me into a quick, one-armed hug, wished me a good night, and vanished in Alice's wake. I took one step to follow, my "Good night" still lingering on my lips, before I paused, realizing that I didn't know what I could say to comfort Alice. Frank was doing his duty and not balking at it; being around Dementors constantly was certainly nothing she'd want him to experience-I read somewhere once that they existed from and craved despair-but was it any worse than something else he could be doing? No, and Alice knew it. She was just worried for him, and nothing I could say would alleviate that concern.
I shivered as another blast of cold air jetted through the opened window, bringing with it bits of sleet and the first tastes of Winter. I darted automatically over to the window and forced it closed, mushy ice peppering my skin and promptly melting, leaving a lingering chill. Sighing, wishing I didn't feel like I constantly had tension in my shoulders, I turned back toward the fire and realized that all four of the Marauders were now staring silently at me, waiting for the news.
"Frank is okay, and he didn't mention an attack," I said softly, smiling slightly at the relief evident on all four faces. "It's just…"
I trailed off with a shrug and stepped closer to the fireplace, hugging myself. James shifted on his armchair so that I could take a seat beside him, but I remained standing, staring into the shifting flames. After a moment or two the others followed suit, abandoning their books and games to sit in companionable silence, losing themselves to their thoughts and the hissing and popping of the firewood as it burned to ash.
"Everything is fine," I mused wishfully after a while, breaking the trance we had fallen into. And then I found, with a thrill of surprise, that I had taken that seat next to James without realizing it. My hands clasped between my knees, I was leaning into him slightly due to lack of space, my shoulders and back tensed to keep from pressing into him too strongly even though his arm was draped across the back of the chair to create more room. Yet though our bodies spoke of being slightly awkward, not-quite-comfortable, I was there nonetheless, close enough to hear him breathing. My heart began racing; it was right where I wanted to be.
At my words, James tilted his head to look down at me for a moment, his glance soft behind the fire dancing on his glasses. "No," he said quietly, finally sliding his arm down around my shoulders and pulling me gently into him. After meeting his gaze for a heartbeat, I gave in. I stopped battling him and allowed myself to relax, to let my head rest against his neck and my arms encircle him in an embrace that felt so natural. James seemed to feel the same way; he sighed contentedly and whispered into my ear. "No it's not. But it will be."
I considered those words as we sat there listening to the storm rage outside, waiting for the fire to burn down to coals. I was distracted only by the feel of James running his fingers lightly upon my arm and his steady pulse driving into my skin.
Everything wasn't fine. But someday, I decided… it would be.
6.8
I didn't confront James about that odd parchment until later in the week; I wasn't sure that it had anything to do with aiding him on his full moon adventures, but after ferreting out one fascinating secret, my curiosity was bent on unveiling the other intrigues I knew surrounded him.
I found him at a table in the back of the library one morning during break, absorbed in finishing an essay over Human Transfiguration. The quick scratching of his quill upon the parchment was enough to hide my footfalls as I approached him from between the shelves of dusty Magic Theory books; he didn't even glance up at me as I dragged over a chair from the table opposite him and straddled it, leaning against his table on my elbows.
"Stop by to help me on this essay?" he asked glibly, pausing in his writing only to flip to a page in a Transfiguration text and study it for a moment before taking up his quill again. He met my eyes briefly as he loaded the quill with ink, a small smile lighting his face.
"Afraid not, though I'd image you'd be the one helping me with the topic," I drawled, glancing idly at the window above James' head, which was rapidly filling with snow. Impulsively sliding James' wand from his bag-his eyes flicked curiously at me but he didn't protest-I conjured two candles and lit them, setting them to float above and illuminate the parchment as I asked, "How is your head?"
He snorted and paused in his writing to legitimately consider my question. "Much better, the potion worked wonders," he finally answered, lightly touching the fingertips of his free hand to his temple for just a moment before he began scribbling again. "Thanks for asking," he added absentmindedly.
"That's good to know." Awkwardly, not quite ready to bring up the parchment, I considered his wand, running my fingers along the polished Mahogany from center to ends before twirling it experimentally and giving it a little wave. Livened under my fingers, the wand spewed red and gold sparks without any urging, and I hastily muttered "Finite Incantatem!" before they could rain down on James' essay. I grinned sheepishly as I noticed that he was watching me out of the corner of his eyes, clearly amused.
"Sorry," I said quietly, looking around quickly to check that the Librarian hadn't seen and slipping the wand back into James bag. "Nice wand-made for a right wand arm, of course, and I'm a left, and it's a little longer than I'm used to, with more give-but nice nevertheless."
He grinned broadly, and from the gleam in his eyes, I knew that what would come next would be baiting and arrogant. I wasn't disappointed. "So did you come here because you were worried about my head, Lily, or to check out my… wand? Either way, I'm flattered."
I ignored the blatant innuendo, deciding to cut to the chase before he got too fed up with my hovering. "Actually, I have a confession."
"Oh really?" His voice betrayed no interest, but I knew that was a lie.
I waited patiently to continue as he flipped through the text once more, couldn't find what he was looking for, and tossed down the quill with a muttered curse. He laced his fingers behind his head as he tilted back the chair, lazily balancing it on its hind legs and looking down his nose at me. "And you choose to tell me?"
"Stop flattering yourself." I rolled my eyes at him. "My confession is that I don't believe you."
He snorted and cocked his head interestedly. "You don't believe what?"
"Well," I said lightly, "the past few nights I've been sneaking out after hours and making my way the best I could to the Great Hall." I paused until realization began dawning in his eyes. "I was caught twice, and only managed to avoid detention by claiming that I was making rounds-which I was then admonished not to do." My voice was flat as I finished. "So you see how it is hard for me to believe that three of you could routinely sneak out of the castle relying only on silence and timing-especially with the increased security on the castle these last few years."
He raised one eyebrow at me. "Come on, Lily, you're far less practiced at it than we ar-"
"James," I said, cutting him off insistently. "I saw the parchment. You can't deny that there is something you're not telling me."
He stared for a moment and let the legs of his chair thump back down to the floor, his momentum pitching him quickly forward until he stopped himself, standing with palms face down on the table top, leaning in so close to me that our noses were almost touching. Intent as I was on the topic at hand, I still had to force an inkling of thought away from the memory of the night when we had held each other before the fire, and how easy it would be to just lean forward and kiss him at last. "You're basing this entire theory on a piece of parchment that you claim to have seen?" His voice was incredulous, though infused with a curiosity that hinted at satisfaction.
"If it wasn't a big deal," I said calmly, folding my arms over my chest and ignoring his sudden intrusion into my personal space, "why did you try to keep me from seeing it as you passed it to Sirius in The Three Broomsticks? What special notes were written on it that you couldn't let me suspect?"
He stared hard at me for another moment, his face all planes and angles, before he relaxed and laughed quietly, almost ruefully. "I always knew you were clever."
My eyebrows furrowed with confusion and I drew away from him. "What do you mean?"
"Lily…" James shook his head and began to pack up his things. "If you think that I don't trust you, then not only are you dead wrong-maybe even dead and wrong, one day-but we've got more issues in our relationship than even I'd hope to overcome." He glanced at me as he buckled up his bag. "To be perfectly honest, you're digging into things that are none of your business. Before you get any answers-and I'm not promising anything, mind-I'm going to talk with my mates." He slung his bag over his shoulder and laid a hand warmly on my shoulder to take the sting out of his words.
I nodded, realizing the awkward position I had placed him in. "I understand that I'm prying, but I just-" I broke off, unable to explain my motivations as I didn't even understand them myself. I shrugged lamely, and he gave my shoulder a brief squeeze before pulling his wand from his bag.
"Tell you what," he said after a moment of consideration, Vanishing the candles that I had created for him with a wave of his wand. "Meet me in the Trophy Room in fifteen minutes-nobody ever goes in there."
I watched him leave, uncomfortable with encouraging him to go out on a completely unnecessary limb for me, but pleased-and flattered-that he was willing to do so. As I headed eagerly toward the Trophy Room, my steps were unusually light.
6.9
Twenty long minutes later, my knees were brushing both James and Sirius' as we made a cross-legged triangle on the Trophy Room floor. The parchment was spread across our laps, and I gazed wonderingly at the detailed map of Hogwarts and the miniscule figures it depicted. "Here we are," I breathed disbelievingly, tapping our dots on the parchment softly with the tip of my finger before slowly tracing the halls, studying the accuracy of the layout of the castle and its grounds. "And here…"
As my eyes wandered corridors and passages that I had never set foot down before, James cleared his throat deliberately. "Are you satisfied?" I could imagine the gleam in James' eyes, the knowing look he shared with Sirius, as he asked.
I reluctantly tore my eyes from the parchment and looked up and him, brushing stands of my hair out of my face as I did so. "Well, I've thought of about a million more questions, if that's any sort of answer." The parchment was brilliant, but I didn't want to stroke James' ego any more than my interest in him already had, especially not with Sirius listening amusedly. As I offered a smile at the pair of them, Sirius laughed.
"She's not going to be satisfied, mate, until she pours over it for three days straight, has it memorized, and walks down every passage herself." He winked playfully at me. "Despite all of the secrecy and subterfuge, may we finally present," said Sirius proudly, "The Marauder's Map."
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