Chapter Eight-Sacrifice, Part II
8.8
Things truly were crazy over the next few days. Details needed to be finalized before the wedding, the house needed to be scrubbed and decorated for the reception, visiting family needed to be entertained, the Christmas feast needed to be prepared, and, predictably, Petunia scrutinized every detail. Her eyes nearly popped when I suggested letting me take care of all of the cleaning by magic, and from then on I was very careful to keep my wand on me but very well hidden, lest I leave it unattended only to find it "mysteriously" snapped in two.
When I wasn't being bothered by Petunia, my Mum innocently insisted on slipping questions about James into our conversations, never minding that every female relative I had was listening, eager to throw in her own opinion-well, every female relative except for Petunia, who looked ready to snap my nose off every time James was mentioned. "He certainly is a nice boy, very well-mannered, very handsome," Mum would say. Were we dating, or just friends? How serious were we? I was very young, did I know not to rush things, realize that most men typically only wanted "one thing"? And, my favorite warning, whispered when my cousins were out of the room: just because there was a war on didn't mean that it had to be "now or never".
I laughed at that one, joking that an elopement in the middle of a war really was how I'd always envisioned getting married-even though thoughts of marriage were absurd at this point. She wasn't amused, but I sated her as best I could without giving myself away, without letting her know how deeply I did care for James. I did like him, I admitted, but we were only friends.
Which is the truth, I thought ruefully as I attached James' Christmas present to Icarus' waiting leg before carrying the owl to the window. We were in love-my heart still thudded remembering the glowing look in his eyes when he'd told me that he loved me too-and had gotten somewhat intimate over the last month at Hogwarts, but so far that was the extent of our romantic relationship.
I want more.
The thought came unbidden to me as I leaned against the glass of my window, watching Icarus fly away before turning my eyes to the shining, multicolored lights decorating my neighbor's homes, their brightness glittering pleasantly against the icicles and snow frozen to the landscaping. Taking a seat on my desktop, I sat with chin propped on hands, staring unseeingly at the lights as I considered this surprising-and somewhat scary-feeling. When we at first began meeting up in private, I was moved by the sometimes frenzied, sometimes slow-burning passion sparking between us; at times it had nearly whisked me away, and at such times I always assumed that we would end up shagging-at some far off point in the future. But such was James' power over me now that I had begun to imagine more and more often what it might be like, had begun seriously pondering my desires to do so, and my eagerness to share the experience with him grew.
Yet I was cautious, unwilling to press into such intimacy too quickly. Suddenly feeling anxious-how in the world could I possibly initiate a conversation over the subject with James?-and needing to relieve this tension by moving, I hopped up from my desk and paced the length of my room before collapsing onto my bed a moment later, burying my head into a pillow and letting out a loud sigh.
I had always been taught that giving up my virginity was supposed to be a sacred, meaningful experience. I wanted it to be so, didn't want to throw it away lightly. And I was only seventeen-well, very nearly eighteen…
But I do love him, I told myself, abruptly rolling over onto my back to stare at the ceiling. And I want to make love with him.
I shivered, finally realizing that this was it-I'd taken the step. I didn't want a shag to satisfy just my body, I wanted this with James to strengthen our relationship. For him to know me that much more, and for me to know him…
My mind settled down as soon as I made my decision. I won't rush things, I told memories of my mother, who had always cautioned me not to hurry into anything, to make a smart decision when propositioned for sex. And I'll be prepared, I added, thinking of the countless talks I'd had with female cousins and friends over the topic: what it would be like the first time, to make sure to have contraception prepared because I never knew when the time would be right, to be open and honest with my partner, not to feel shy…
I took a calming breath and slipped under my sheets, feeling more matured after making this decision. Vaguely, I wondered if James had had similar arguments with himself on the topic, if he was thinking about shagging me as much as I'd begun to think about shagging him, if he was wondering if we were ready to take the step. I snorted as I tucked my wand under my pillow; he was a man, of course he was thinking about it.
When the time is right…
Yet, my mind racing with thoughts of the loss of virginity and sex, relationships and James, it took me quite some time to fall asleep.
8.9
I was finally able to get away to visit James during the morning of Boxing Day. Petunia was satisfied that my blue bridesmaid dress fit just so, and I hadn't botched up the rehearsal, so there was nothing left for me to do but stay out of everyone's way while they made final preparations. I was more than happy to do so, afraid that if I saw Vernon Dersley one more time before the wedding and was forced into entertaining his horrid sister, Marge, he might get a premature lesson about where I really went to school. A demonstration, more like. It's not like I didn't try to be civil, but his falsely genteel demeanor never failed to put my back up.
I practically ran toward the park, hurrying as best I could through the snow. Tossing a look over my shoulder at my home, I laughed, finally feeling free. But as I neared the old swing set, I gradually slowed my pace to a walk, my attention focusing sharply on the person lounging there. I itched to draw my wand from its hide-away in my coat pocket, but didn't dare to reveal it in broad daylight where any of the neighbors could see.
Instead, as I passed, I simply frowned upon Severus Snape, who was learning up against the swing set, arms crossed with one leg propped on the railing, deceivingly like old times. His head was tilted back against the support poles, and he looked bored and idly haughty, as though he had been waiting there for some time. An icy wind pulled at the collar of his long, dark coat and blew it around his ankles, but only at my approach did he stir, straightening nonchalantly to regard me with a level gaze.
"I'm glad to see that you're recovered," he drawled when I had drawn even with him, sounding so uninterested that I questioned the truth of his words. "Of course, it wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for Potter-"
I rolled my eyes at him-of course Snape would blame it on James-and continued on my way. With every step I feared that he might curse me, and my back tingled with anticipation for the blow. But I kept my face smooth, emotionless, utterly uncaring about anything that Snape might have to say.
"Lily, stay away from him." Snape practically hissed the words, sounding insistent now that he'd realized I was not going to engage him in conversation. For a brief moment he seemed like his younger self, confident that I would take his words to heart. The tone, and remembering that we had been best friends once, made me want to vomit. "The Dark Lord wants him," he continued after a hesitation. "…and I don't want anything to happen to you."
"That's a bit hypocritical," I muttered icily, finally annoyed enough to toss him a look over my shoulder, "considering that I'm a 'Mudblood' and you're one of Voldemort's cronies-"
Snape briefly clutched at his left forearm with the other hand, ire crossing his face. "Do not speak His name!" he uttered through teeth clenched with pain, glaring at me. I had barely registered his strange reaction when he was upon me, gripping my wrist with enough strength to twist me around, forcing me to face him. A tingling, unpleasant chill passed through me at his touch, and I narrowed my eyes at the feeling of goose bumps tightening my skin.
"Tell me," gasped Snape as though every word taxed his self control. Thin wisps of steam from his mouth betrayed his agitated panting. "Tell me where Potter is and no one will harm you, I swear." We were standing so closely that I could see tiny beads of sweat popping out on his furrowed forehead, could smell his nervousness.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood at his words. "Are you threatening me?"
"No, I never…." he trailed off, his gaze harsh but imploring. Slowly, he released my arm, and just as I let out a relieved breath, I noticed him begin to reach for the wand stuck in the waistband of his trousers. "Please, Lily…"
"Could you do it?" Feeling sick to my stomach, I stared him full in the face, wondering if he could bring himself to torture me for the information he thought I could give. His fingers played against his wand nervously, and he tore his eyes away from mine, ashamed. As soon as he was distracted, I bolted toward the shelter of the woods; I felt his fingers brush against my jacket as he lunged for me, swearing. But I was faster, and as soon as I had scrambled under the trees, I touched my wand and Disapparated.
8.10
James tightened his grip on my hand as we slipped through the glass entrance to St. Mungo's and stepped, unnoticed by passing Muggles, onto the sidewalk. My follow-up appointment with the Healers-which James had insisted on escorting me to despite the morning's reminder that the Death Eaters were still targeting him-had run late, and the farthest-reaching rays of the setting sun were sinking rapidly behind the surrounding buildings. A bitter cold was setting in with the twilight but the air was miraculously dry, and I enjoyed the brief respite from falling snow as we nonchalantly joined the ebbing flow of pedestrians on the sidewalk.
James tossed me a grin during the act of looking over his shoulder, checking to see if anyone was following us. "Fancy a drink?"
I snorted, but squeezed his hand to ease the sting of my rejection. "Shouldn't we get back to the cottage?"
"We should," James contended, pulling me closer so he could wrap an arm around my shoulders as we walked, "but that would be doing what They expect, wouldn't it? I thought we were avoiding that."
"Nice argument," I said sarcastically, playfully shrugging off his arm even as I shot a suspicious look down an alleyway we were passing. I felt unsettled, sensing that something was wrong, and was eager to get back to the relative safety of Godric's Hollow. "But to tell the truth, I'd like to get off of the streets."
"Right, I understand," he laughingly assured me as we turned down the disused alley, getting out of sight behind an old, rusted-out dumpster. His eyes glowed, and, with a thrill, I was reminded of that happy moment when he'd told me he loved me as we embraced in the falling snow. "You just don't want to be seen with me in public."
I rolled my eyes. "You can make me a drink when we get back to Godric's Hollow, how's that?" Touching my wand under my jacket, I prepared to Disapparate. "Besides, I'm sure Sirius is dying to hear how my appointment went-"
My voice cut off as my brain seized up with horror and the sense of unease exploded into my stomach. Instead of the uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed into a thousand different dimensions, when I had tried to Disapparate, it felt instead as though I had run head-long into a brick wall. Physically stumbling backwards in shock, letting the rough brick of the alleyway wall hold me up, I tried, futilely, to Disapparate once more.
"Lily, what's wrong?" asked James as he stepped over to support me, forehead furrowed with worry. He had his wand out, but didn't seem sure of what his next action should be. I threw out a hand, gesturing for him to keep his voice down.
"We've been blocked from Disaparating. Try it," I whispered, sliding over to lean against the cold, rusty metal of the dumpster, peering through the crack between it and the wall and trying to view the street. My angle wasn't great and I could only see half a block on the other side of the street from my position, but it was better than nothing. Somehow I managed to keep my voice steady; my nerves were already tingling as they recalled the pain of my just-healed injuries.
"I don't see anyone suspicious…" I continued, my voice business-like as I tried to detach my emotions from my body, letting focus and determination briefly override my fear of entrapment. "But I wonder how they found you?"
James shook himself, his eyes narrowed over his own failure to Disapparate. "If they knew about your appointment they could have guessed I'd come with you, for one," he suggested, his voice flat as though he knew he had made a grave mistake. Loose gravel crunched under his feet as he crouched and shifted to peer around the side of the dumpster. "I think we're going to have to run for it-"
He grabbed my hand to pull me into a dash behind him, but I jerked him back against the alley wall; there had been movement down the street, someone darting from one building to another. "Wait!" I hissed just as a Stunner whizzed by, lancing through the space James would have occupied if he'd kept running. A moment later, another Stunning spell rammed into the dumpster from a different direction, penning us in place. "Someone is coming…"
I could just make out a darkly clad and hooded shape detaching itself from the shadows of the deserted office buildings across the street. It walked slowly, almost stumbling, but seemed unconcerned by its lack of cover. Three more people followed the first, heading straight for our alleyway. I frowned at them when they reached thirty paces away; there wasn't a wand in sight.
"James…" I said slowly as he raised his wand to take aim, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. "I don't think they are the ones who attacked us."
"They haven't yet, you mean…" he trailed off, concentrating, and a moment later a Stunner burst from his wand and hit the foremost person square in the chest. He or she stumbled, but continued forward. James swore and fired again, hit and failed, and my stomach dropped as I realized that more had joined the first four.
"What the hell are they?" James muttered, tossing me a quick, intense look as he twisted around to lean his back against the dumpster and began to rummage through his jacket pockets.
"Something bad, I'd imagine." I raised a quizzical eyebrow at him as I swiped a loose lock of hair behind my ear. "What are you doing?"
"Getting help," he answered swiftly, pulling a mirror out of his pocket. It was small and round, barely large enough to fit into his palm. "Padfoot," he told it urgently, ignoring me. Yet James' face peered back at us, his eyes wide, lips pressed into a thin line.
My mouth dropped open. "Are you ins-"
He cut me off with an impatient wave of a hand. "Just try to delay those things, alright?" He turned back to the mirror. "Sirius, answer, mate."
Ignoring James' continuous calls into the mirror, I turned back to the street. The figures were about halfway across, still shuffling slowly, not a threat but for their clearly menacing intent; no more curses had been fired at us and I wondered, with a sinking feeling, what the Death Eaters were waiting for. I shoved that worry into the back of my mind as I rifled quickly through my arsenal of spells, trying to think of something to slow the approaching figures down. I finally decided on a handful of jinxes and narrowed my eyes at the foremost figure as I concentrated on the spell and took aim.
Petrificus totalus!
It hit the person in the face, but the effect was not what I expected. Instead of instantly freezing, the figure slowed even more, fighting something unseen for each step, but still edging forward, one shuffling step every four seconds or so. I frowned, tried again. This time my spell caught its hood and pulled it down around the person's shoulders.
I gasped and grabbed James' arm. "Look!" I moaned, pointing weakly at the pale, greenish cast to the person's sagging face, the dank hair, blank eyes. "He's… dead! It's dead!" My skin started to crawl, and I felt as though I was going to sick up. "They magicked someone's body back to life…"
In that instant, as James and I stared at the creatures in horror, Sirius' voice rang out from the mirror in James' hand.
"Yeah, mate?"
I did a double-take, beginning to feel out of body. Sirius' arrogantly handsome reflection had replaced James' in the mirror; as I watched, he tossed back a shot of what seemed to be Firewhiskey. I mentally shook myself, making sure I wasn't having some sort of odd dream. But I didn't have time to dwell on the magic of the mirror; zombie-like, the creatures were pressing relentlessly forward.
"Magic," I mumbled vehemently as James addressed the mirror. The word was almost a curse. I shook my head, turning back to jab my wand at the approaching figures. I felt numb, as though the reality of what I was seeing hadn't yet hit me. "Bloody Dark magic."
With each word, I shot another spell at the stumbling bodies. The Body-Bind slowed them, but they were still determinedly dangerous. Biting my lip, trying to ignore the alarmed, disbelieving screams of Muggles who had noticed the commotion from down the street and had realized that they weren't seeing fireworks, I tried another spell.
"Reducto!"
I was too shaken to do it wordlessly, but the effect was the same-I blasted one of the foremost creature's legs out from under it, ripping it off at the thigh. It dropped to the ground, began to crawl toward us. I took aim at one if its arms, but in that moment another Stunning spell was shot toward us, narrowly missing my hand, and I jerked back into cover.
Yet I wasn't fast enough to dodge a second spell. A beam of white light nicked the tip of my wand, the force of it knocking me breathlessly to the ground. My wand flew away from my fingertips, and I watched helplessly as it spun away into the darkness, a whirling projectile that barely missed James' face.
"Lily!" James yelped, his voice heavy with the weight of warning that he didn't have time to utter.
At his call I rolled back behind the dumpster, barely dodging several other curses that had followed the Disarming Spell. I watched, wide-eyed, as James quickly Summoned my wand back, impatiently waiting for him to press it into my palm and feeling entirely vulnerable at its absence. I nodded at him in thanks once he had done so, and turned back toward the street.
"I think you made whoever is controlling them angry," commented James dryly as he slipped the mirror into his pocket and began to follow my lead, dodging curses and beginning to maim the creatures so they couldn't physically work their way toward us. It was morbid, dismembering dead bodies, but I gritted my teeth, feeding the disgust to the adrenaline beginning to overcome me. "Try to see where the Death Eater is firing from."
"What did you tell Sirius?" I asked as the first figure finally collapsed into a quivering mass on the street, hardly two paces from the sidewalk. I shivered as its glazed eyes stared into mine, still intent on its target, and had to jerk my gaze away.
"I told him to get dad-Aurors are on the way," said James quickly, felling a second of the creatures. "We just have to hold out here until they arrive."
Curses from a second Death Eater crisscrossed with the first, green light mixing with red with increasing frequency as they grew more eager to bring the conflict to an end. Behind the glow of the curses, I saw several more of the figures begin approaching, moving jerkily, as fast as they could. It seemed as though the Death Eaters were getting desperate.
"Easier said than done, yeah?" I asked him, trying to sound brave as I looked at him intently, still fighting the jumpy disbelief threatening to overwhelm me; even feeling fear would be better than this shaky nothingness. I didn't understand how James could be so calm, but I drew strength from his confidence.
He seemed to sense that I was near my limit, and laid his free hand on my shoulder as he scooted closer to me, offering comfort through his presence. "We're doing fine, love," he said, raising his voice above the spells continuing to rattle against the increasingly battered dumpster.
"No, James." I turned my head to look at him, our faces merely inches apart. From this distance his body betrayed the adrenaline coursing through him: his breathing was shallow and rapid through thinly-parted lips, his jaw was clenched. But there was no obvious sign of fear; reflected in his glasses I saw several curses jetting toward us, but he hardly flinched as he leaned away from them so that they missed him by centimeters. He reacted instantaneously, reflexes controlling his body as they did during a Quidditch match, and I wondered bizarrely if he was pretending that the hexes were bludgers, just annoying obstacles before the target that must be watched for, dodged, and then put from the mind.
But this wasn't a game.
"James," I repeated, my voice sounding far away as my heartbeat thudded in my ears. "We have to get out of this alley, away from Muggles."
He tilted his head at me, considering for a moment before nodding. "All right." He hesitated, sighed, and once again reached into his pockets, quickly pulling out something large and silvery. "I didn't want the Death Eaters to know about this… perhaps they won't realize…"
He pulled me to my feet, close to his side, and wrapped the material around us like a cloak. As he peered around the ledge of the bin, I realized that the Death Eaters had stopped trying to curse us; perhaps they were toying with us, waiting for our next move. The other creatures were still headed toward us.
"What is this?" I whispered, running the underside of the lightweight, silky material through my fingers. The material was thin enough to see through; narrowing my eyes, I peered toward the mouth of the alleyway, searching for our aggressors.
"Invisibility cloak," James murmured simply, taking my free hand in his. Shock jolted through me, though I still hardly had the concentration to marvel at the tricks up James' sleeves. I settled on raising my eyebrows disbelievingly at him as he continued to speak in a low, urgent voice. "Stay close to me… we have to move slowly to keep hidden."
He looked at me intently, his eyes taking in my pale face and the shaking hands I couldn't control. It was obvious I was feeling overwhelmed, and my face burned at the scrutiny and that I had been so shaken by the Dark magic I had never imagined before. I am stronger than this, I thought angrily, refocusing myself. I am a Gryffindor.
"There might be more of those bodies walking around down the street, or more Death Eaters," he continued, turning away from me and raising his wand. "Just keep quiet and we'll walk right by them."
I nodded, clenching my fist around my wand. "I'm ready," I said, my voice tight with determination.
With a sharp motion of his wand, James sent the stack of crates flying toward the still-stumbling creatures; the crates exploded into splinters as they crashed against the bodies, knocking them forcefully down into the street. James tugged on my hand, a gesture for me to follow him, and we slipped through the mouth of the alley and hurried down the road, scurrying around the dismembered bodies in the street and moving as far away as possible from the still-walking ones.
I narrowed my eyes at a cloaked figure which immerged from the shelter of a doorway across from our alley, but it moved fluidly, humanly. Another white-masked and cloaked Death Eater stepped out from behind a parked car, and they both began creeping across the street toward the alley, trying to find out what we were up to. I held my breath as we passed by merely a meter away, but the Death Eater didn't notice us as he or she raised a wand and blasted the dumpster farther back into the alley.
James and I ducked around a building as both Death Eaters swore, realizing we were gone. Abruptly there was a clamor, and when we peered back around the corner, there was a circle of figures surrounding the pair, wands all directed inward. The Death Eaters didn't have time to make a sound before they were Stunned, dropping to the street in a heap. When they collapsed, the several remaining creatures went still, lifeless once more as the magic controlling them disappeared.
I blew out a thankful breath as a young man dashed toward the alley we had been hiding in. James started toward the group, but I gently pressed him back against the wall, holding a finger to my lips, gesturing for him to keep silent until we could confirm that the group of men and women now crowding the street were our allies.
"There's no one here!" called the voice of the man now reappearing from the alley with a piece of twisted, smoldering dumpster in his hands. It was too dark to make out a face, but I recognized the voice as Sirius'. James relaxed under my hands as he, too, recognized the voice, which was followed by Moody's growl as Sirius chucked the metal fragment back to the dumpster with a loud crash.
"Quiet, Black!" Moody nudged the unconscious body of one of the Death Eaters with his shoe. "There may be more of them."
"They probably Disapparated when they saw our numbers," mumbled another voice, Frank's. At his words, several of the other Aurors broke from the group and began searching the surrounding buildings for more Death Eaters.
James and I exchanged a relieved smile before he whipped the cloak from around us, folded it tightly, and stuffed it back into his jacket, obviously wanting to keep it a secret from the Aurors as well. I made a mental note to ask him about that, and the mirror, later, but as soon as we stepped into the street, hand-in-hand and calling greetings, ten wands were trained onto us and the thought was driven from my mind.
"Don't move," directed one Auror, a tall woman I didn't recognize. I shot a concerned glance at James as our wands were Summoned from us, but he simply shook his head resignedly as another spell jerked us roughly apart. My temper began to rise as yet another spell tingled over my body, searching, I assumed, for booby-traps on my person or evidence of Dark magic. Though I knew they were just taking appropriate precautions, I glared at the semi-circle of witches and wizards before us as Sirius dashed over from the alley, his mouth open incredulously. He made to rush toward us, but Fabian held him back.
"Wait," he murmured as Frank began approaching us cautiously, his wand trained on me. My heart was racing faster than ever; surely they couldn't believe that we were imposters?
"There's something wrong," Frank muttered as he approached, tilting his head at me. His eyes were queer, troubled. "Something Dark… on you."
I gasped as, with a quick flick of his wand, Frank seemed to peel the top layer of my skin off of my body, and fire burned through every pore. It was an instantaneous flash of heat, gone before I had truly felt it, but it left me feeling lightheaded, my skin tingling. I sighed as the tightness eased from my weary muscles.
"What was it?" asked James quickly, keeping his voice low so the other Aurors couldn't hear. Looking tense, he seemed to be forcing himself to stay where the Aurors wanted him, to keep himself from running over to me.
Frank pursed his lips. "Seemed like some sort of tracking hex…"
At his words, something snapped in my head, and nausea swopped through my stomach. "Snape…" With a shiver, I recalled the unpleasant tingling sensation that had shot through my body at his touch. I spoke slowly, working out the appalling truth even as I revealed it. "He must have set it on me earlier today when he confronted me… he counted on me seeing James, knew I wouldn't stay away…"
Didn't want to see me get hurt, Severus? I thought bitterly, my lips twisting sourly as James swore extravagantly. You manipulated me right into the middle of it all…
I took a deep breath, to calm both my rising anger and shame. I couldn't bear to look at James upon realizing that this attack had been my fault, and instead stared intensely at Frank through the frustrating tears gathering in my eyes, hoping he would accept the only explanation I could give.
"That could be possible…" Frank said slowly, lowering his wand slightly. "From what I remember, he's certainly friendly with the wrong sort of people…"
I nodded, rubbing my eyes with my palms to dash away the embarrassing release of emotion. "He flat-out told me that the Death Eaters want to ransom James for his father's cooperation…"
"Well, you should have heeded that warning," Frank admonished sharply, shooting a disapproving look at James. "You're not invincible, James, no matter how lucky you are." Sheepishly, James opened his mouth to explain, but Frank interrupted him.
"Never mind that now." His voice was suddenly gentler, more like the Frank I had known at school, the one unblemished by the grit required in war. He smiled slightly. "First thing's first: we've got to prove that you are the real James Potter and Lily Evans…"
The task of proving our identities and truthfulness to Frank-even though James had been the one to call the Aurors for help, leading them to capture two Death Eaters-was arduous. It took ten minutes of rapid-fire questioning by Frank to convince Moody that we were who we claimed. All the while, the Stunned Death Eaters were being taken into custody and the dead bodies were being collected for examination; several more wizards arrived to modify the memories of any nearby Muggles, none of whom had been hurt in the fray.
Finally, and with an apologetic look, Frank handed our wands back to us. "I'm sorry for that," he murmured as we headed toward the main group of Aurors, "but it was necessary."
"You're not to blame," seethed James quietly through clenched teeth, still undoubtedly dwelling on Snape's interference. He cast a quick look at me before turning back to Frank, quickly assessing how drawn I was. "Do you need our statements now, or can we do it tomorrow night?"
Frank bent to pick up one of the Death Eater masks, able to examine it only for a moment before it it dissolved into dust and fell streaming through his fingers. He shook his head. "With evidence like this, he sooner we get your statements, the better."
I blew out a breath, briefly watching my breath rise up into the clear winter sky and wrapping my arms about myself; my adrenaline had subsided, leaving behind the cold chill of disbelief at the encounter. Every so often a shiver would wrack my body, a product of both the cold and weary muscles, but they only served as subtle reminders that I was still alive. Someone patted me on the shoulder, and I turned my head to see Fabian smiling down at me encouragingly, his tired eyes offering friendship and support. I managed to return a weak smile.
"You do tend to get yourself into trouble, don't you?" he asked lightly as he Summoned two scrolls of parchment and two quills with which to take James and my statements. He dutifully handed a quill and parchment to Frank, who was listening intently to James' story a meter or so away, before latching his attention back on me.
I rolled my eyes. "Let's get this over with."
8.11
I still felt iced-through to the bone an hour later, loosely hugging myself as I stared vacantly at the weave of the thick carpet covering James' bedroom floor, trying not to think of those things we had fought and recalling the ease of the entrapment that had been my fault.
James, re-entering the room after sending an owl to my parents letting them know where I would be staying for the night, noticed my disquiet. "Lily," he said comfortingly, crossing his room with quick strides. He laid one hand on my shoulder and used the other to tilt back my chin so he could study my face. I shivered again at his touch though it was warm, and attempted a weak smile. But perhaps the tear sliding traitorously down one of my cheeks dispelled the illusion of calm I was trying to maintain; he grimaced at it before pulling me into a hug.
I could have stood there with him for forever, simply embracing, but far too quickly he drew away from me. "No wonder you're shivering-you're freezing!" he muttered, jabbing his wand in the direction of the bathroom. I heard the shower tap turn on and relaxed somewhat, anticipating the hot water and relaxation that would come from it.
Wordlessly, he turned back to me, his eyes soft. I merely stood there as he traced light kisses over my eyelids, on the lobe of an ear, down to the hollow of my throat, before finally reaching my lips. Goosebumps lifted on my arms at each gentle touch, but I still felt out of body, as though I was too numb for my body to respond with the appropriate fire. But James didn't seem to mind; gathering me in his arms, hugging me to his chest while still pressing kisses into my hair, he seemed more concerned with comforting and protecting me than with seducing me.
"Come on," he whispered, his hands slipping under my shirt and sliding along my spine as he eased it up my back. "Let's get you warmed up."
I didn't protest as he raised the shirt over my head, but sighed gratefully at his endeavors to take care of me. My heart finally reacted, beginning to thud more rapidly as I noticed the love in his eyes, the dampened down desire he was unable to suppress as his gaze took me in.
But I didn't feel shy or modest-those emotions hadn't yet broken through my shaken senses. Instead I merely stepped forward to embrace him, resting my head against his neck as he hesitantly unsnapped the hook of my bra. His breath caught as the straps slipped from my shoulders and down my arms.
"Is this okay?" he asked in a strained whisper, his hands suddenly paused in the act of stroking my back as the thought occurred to him that he might be moving too quickly.
In response, I simply lifted his shirt over his head, and the warmth of our upper bodies touching, unimpeded by any clothing, was nearly enough to drive all feeling back into me. His hands burned as he drew me into him, kissing me deeply but tenderly. It seemed that he had coaxed me back to normality; as my hands clenched on his bare shoulders, my eyes closed against the passion racing through me. Slight traces of fear mixed with the adrenaline pumping through my veins, and I broke out in a light, nervous sweat as I realized that we had just taken a bold leap past any boundary we had treaded before. Finally feeling somewhat shy but determined to persevere, I took his hand.
"Come here," I insisted quietly, pulling him toward the bathroom. Steam from the hot water had fogged up the mirrors and left the air feeling thick, but I craved the warmth. Yet he paused on the threshold, and I turned to stare at him curiously. He was leaning against the door jamb, his free hand in his hair as he stared at me, mesmerized. The muscles of his arms were tensed, strained as he restrained himself, and I blushed at the look in his eyes but reveled in it all the same; despite his hesitation, he was irresistible. "What's wrong?"
"You get in," he insisted, trying to keep his eyes on my face. "Let me go get some towels from the laundry…"
My blush burned even deeper as his hand slipped from mine and he closed the door in my face, and I realized that he needed a moment. Well, we're both new to this, I thought as I kicked off my pants and slipped under the wonderfully scalding spray of the shower. I don't know what the hell I'm thinking…
It didn't take me long to soak myself and lather up, the chill and fear finally beginning to disappear from memory as the soapy water washed them away. My heart rate spiked as I heard James re-enter the room and slough off the rest of this clothing. He pulled back the shower curtain and instinctively I turned in the other direction, watching him enter with my head turned over my shoulder, my hands in my hair, rinsing out the last of the shampoo. He had removed his glasses, and I kept my eyes firmly locked onto his as he grinned at me awkwardly and stepped up behind me, wrapping his arms tightly around my body so that we could both stand under the spray, his chin bent to rest on my shoulder so that he could both kiss my throat and take in the sight of my body.
My heart is going to explode, I thought stupidly as my brain registered how good his body felt pressed up again mine, his skin slick with the water and even warmer due to it. With every roving touch my nerves danced, and I felt that, with this memory, I could never be cold again.
After a moment of revelation, he spoke, his voice hardly louder than the gushing water. "You know, I'd never noticed before now how short you really are."
I half-turned in his arms to glare at him, blatantly eyeing him up and down and fighting a blush as I did so. "Perhaps you're just too tall."
He raised his eyebrows at me, doubtfully amused, but chuckled as I settled against his chest once more, this time facing him. "Perhaps."
I breathed deeply against his color bone, each inhalation thick with moisture, and relaxed as I simply took in the feel of his skin. His hands were stroking up and down my arms as though he couldn't get enough of how smooth they felt under the water, and it thrilled me to interest and arouse him so. I could definitely tell that he was aroused, and, while exciting, it was slightly intimidating. Nearly overwhelmed already, I decided that I wasn't quite ready to take that step tonight.
He seemed to sense what I was thinking about, and I looked irresistibly into his eyes as he spoke once more.
"You're just too much," he smiled down at me, his eyes blazing before he hugged me to him so closely that he lifted me briefly off of my feet. "You're so beautiful."
I smiled, managing an emphatic "I love you" before his lips came crashing down on mine. This time we were absolutely unrestrained in our fervor, touching and kissing fiercely, unable to get enough of each other. Our desire and love for one another was palpable, thicker than the steam in the air, and we lost ourselves in it.
Eventually the lack of hot water drove us, wrapped in towels, to James' bed. I set the alarm clock on his bedside table as he slipped into boxers and found another pair of pants and a soft shirt for me to sleep in. Utterly exhausted by this point-mentally, physically, and emotionally-we fell into each other's arms. Only one thought resonated through my head as I drifted off to sleep, James pressed into my back with his arms wrapped protectively around me, determined never to let anything harm me again. Despite everything that had happened in the past day and everything that would probably happen tomorrow, I couldn't deny that, for now, I was simply, incredibly, happy.