From Ashes

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Disclaimer: All characters and events taken from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I have made no money from this, and am extremely grateful to Ms Rowling for allowing us to play about in her magical playground.

A/N: I owe a big thank you to my beta readers. First, Birgit, my official SQ beta, deserves a hand for her helpful comments and unfailing encouragement with the first drafts of this story. And also for her guidance with regards to html! The first version of this story is currently archived at The Sugar Quill.

Acknowledgement also goes to my Perfect Imagination beta, jamc91, who not only spotted and corrected my technical errors with a kind eagle eye, but also offered much valuable input on characterisation, and questioned me on plot relevance.

This story is for all L/J fans who would like a plausible explanation for how Lily’s attitudes towards James changed.

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In every history book in the wizarding world, it is written that the Dark Lord first rose in 1970, gained power and supporters in the subsequent years, but was brought to his downfall by little Harry Potter in 1981, ending what was known as the Years of Terror. During those eleven years, heinous acts were carried out, both by the Light and the Dark sides, for war had blurred the lines between good and evil, and right and wrong.

The Christmas of 1975 was a day which would go down forever in wizarding history as Ash Christmas. It was a day when the distinctions between Light and Dark were severely tried, and the means to an end were put into question.

It started with an attack by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters a week before Christmas. Clancy Darlington, a distinguished member of the Wizengamot, was found tortured and killed in his family home, along with his Muggle wife and their son. Only his daughter escaped, being away at school. The murder of such an important official set the wizarding world on edge. Pressure was on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, both to avenge the Darlingtons, and to finish this business with He Who Must Not Be Named.

And so, having worked hard to track down the Death Eaters, the Aurors gathered at the small seaside town of Folkestone based on a tip on Christmas evening, waiting to ambush twenty Death Eaters on a festive Muggle-torturing spree.

They waited until the Death Eaters arrived, drunk and ready for a night of Muggle-hunting fun, and they set up barriers, including Anti-Apparition wards and physical Containment Charms around ten of the houses, to be sure all the Death Eaters were properly surrounded. Under the orders of the Head of Department, Bartemius Crouch, a magical fire was set. It could not be put out with a wand.

They burned down the houses, along with the Death Eaters, who never had a chance to escape. The few that survived by pure chance were taken, badly burnt and half-dead, into custody. None survived to see the next year.

The horrifying part was that the Muggles in the houses did not survive either. A necessary sacrifice, it was called. The response to this was varied. Albus Dumbledore criticised it heavily, but there were many others who supported it, seeing only the dead Death Eaters and rejoicing.

Perhaps it was forgotten, in their thirst for revenge against the Dark side, that their means of vengeance did not fall far from Lord Voldemort’s.

The repercussions of Ash Christmas were to spread beyond anything the wizarding world could have imagined. Indeed, few know that it was actually a beginning to the end – an end which would arrive six years later. For among the people of the wizarding community were a group of students in Hogwarts who were touched, in some way or another, by this horrible tragedy: a group of students who were destined for greatness.

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December, 1975. Twelve days to Christmas …

Winter had come late this year. It had crept in subtly, a pernicious chill which spread slowly through the castle, silent and unnoticed – until the soft white flakes arrived as a gentle reminder that the seasons had changed.

The first snowfall had finally arrived, the light flakes twirling as they tumbled towards the ground, catching the diffused rays of wintry sunlight to create a pretty, sparkling effect. A sudden whirl of feathers caused the dancing snowflakes to spiral as they fell, as a tawny owl took flight from one of the numerous turrets of Hogwarts.

Lily Evans watched appreciatively as the owl bearing her letter soared across the snowy grounds, a charming addition to the portrait of winter before her.

It was certainly therapeutic, standing at the window watching the fresh, clean, pure snowflakes swirling in their own graceful ballet as they made their descent. How easy it was to think happy thoughts as she basked in the morning sunlight streaming in through the Owlery window!

Such as cheerful Christmas decorations adorning the hallways. The Hogsmeade weekend approaching. The end of term. Going home for Christmas. Mum. Dad. Pet.

She wouldn’t have to return to the Great Hall and see the post owls bringing the Daily Prophet bearing more gruesome news of death and destruction, wouldn’t have to think of the terror that had been spreading as insidiously as the winter cold …

And she sighed, because even here, in the Owlery, with the sun lighting up every corner, the few owls present hooting gently and the pretty picture of winter before her, she couldn’t get away from the ugly reality outside of Hogwarts.

The sudden arrival of the mail owls through the open window announced the end of breakfast downstairs in the Great Hall. Lily turned away slowly; she had lessons to get to.

Lily Evans wasn’t in the Great Hall when James Potter arrived for breakfast. A pity, he thought, as his glance across the Gryffindor table turned up no pretty redhead.

Sirius Black noted his searching gaze and nudged him.

‘Don’t even start, Black,’ said James, pre-empting his best friend’s teasing remark.

‘I wasn’t going to say anything,’ said Sirius in an airy but utterly unconvincing tone. James shook his head and took a seat next to Remus Lupin. The other two girls in their year, including Remus’s girlfriend Alice, were directly opposite.

‘Where’s Evans?’ James asked nonchalantly.

Across the table from him, Dorcas Meadowes replied, ‘Left earlier – I think she’s in the Owlery,’ without looking up as she searched in her money bag for some Knuts to pay the owl delivery her newspaper.

‘Tough luck, Prongs,’ grinned Sirius.

‘Shut it,’ James told him. ‘Pass the toast, Peter, would you? Thanks –’ He caught the stack of toast that the podgy, mousey-haired boy sent sliding in his direction and relieved the plate of its generous load.

‘It might help, James, if you quit calling us all by our surnames,’ observed Alice Moody.

‘You know you think it’s cool.’

‘Calling a girl by her surname is not particularly endearing,’ remarked Remus wryly.

‘Exactly,’ said Alice, nodding in agreement. ‘At best, it makes you sound like a professor. But at worse –’

‘That’s precisely it, Moody,’ James interrupted. ‘Like a professor – it’s mature. She’s always on to me about that, isn’t she?’

Alice smiled and shook her head, looking torn between amusement and exasperation. Next to her, Dorcas let out a little gasp and slammed the Daily Prophet down on the breakfast table.

‘What, Meadowes? You disagree?’

‘What happened?’ Alice leant over the page Dorcas was reading. ‘Oh no … no …’

‘What’s going on?’ demanded Sirius. Remus’s face paled.

‘Another attack?’

Alice seemed shocked into silence. Dorcas raised her head and nodded.

‘Clancy Darlington,’ she said.

‘’Oo’s zat?’ said Peter through a mouthful of eggs. Dorcas gave him a scathing glance.

‘Have you been living in the Muggle world, Pettigrew?’ Peter swallowed and choked as he attempted to come up with an indignant retort.

‘He’s the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement,’ explained Remus. ‘And a member of the Wizengamot too.’

‘My family hates the bloke,’ said Sirius darkly. James understood the unspoken insinuation of this statement – Sirius’s family was as Dark as they came. An enemy of the Blacks was highly likely to be an enemy of the Dark Wizard Voldemort.

James stole a glance at the newspaper. An eerie black and white photo of an enormous skull with a snake emerging from its mouth glared at him. The Dark Mark – Voldemort’s notorious sign. He gazed at it for several seconds, during which a chill ran up his spine, then turned away. The mood at the table had suddenly turned uncomfortably sombre. His first thought was to diffuse the seriousness, but the picture of the Dark Mark seemed to have wiped his mind temporarily blank.

He had reckoned without Sirius, however. A well-launched morsel of oatmeal projected itself from Sirius’s spoon – James ducked and it landed on Dorcas’s Daily Prophet, splattering over the Dark Mark. Dorcas looked up indignantly. Sirius gave her his best I’m-not-guilty expression.

‘This isn’t funny, Black, this is serious news.’

‘And that’s Sirius’s oatmeal,’ supplied James innocently. For a moment, Dorcas looked like she might explode – and then she did; she started to laugh, along with Alice.

‘Oh – boys –’ gasped Alice. ‘This really isn’t a laughing matter – but – oh, honestly, the two of you are the limit!’

‘Sorry, Meadowes,’ said Sirius cheerfully. ‘I’ll clean your paper, look, Scourgify!’ The oatmeal cleared off the front page and Dorcas quickly folded it away before he could do any more damage. James chuckled softly; the image of the splattered oatmeal obscuring the Dark Mark was a comforting one.

And if he could laugh about it, then it really wasn’t so bad, was it?

The halls were abuzz with shocked and fearful whispers. There wasn’t a single corner in the school where students weren’t discussing the horrible news that had appeared in the Daily Prophet that morning.

Dorcas Meadowes, who had the Prophet delivered, showed Lily the paper before class. Splayed across the front page was a blown up picture of the gruesome Dark Mark: a treacherous skull with a snake spilling out of its mouth. The rest of the front page, and the first five pages inside, were devoted to the attack.

Clancy Darlington was a respected member of the Wizengamot. He had been attacked, along with his family. The Dark Mark had been found hovering over his ancestral home. Inside had lain three dead bodies: Darlington, his wife, and their nine-year-old son.

It had been a brutal murder. Magical autopsies revealed that the child had been tortured to death, presumably in front of his parents. Mrs Darlington was next to go, and finally Clancy Darlington himself.

There was a girl – a daughter who escaped by virtue of her absence from home. Annemette Darlington was a third-year Ravenclaw. Lily didn’t know her personally, but her heart went out to the girl.

When will this terror stop? she wondered. It had been five years since You-Know-Who came to power. It had started with inexplicable disappearances … whispers of a grand scheme to purge all magical peoples … an upsurge in Muggle-hunting … soft, chilling fear of the mysterious being fashioning himself as Lord Voldemort – people said that it was dangerous to speak the name, for it could incur his wrath. And then the attacks. They had started out as isolated cases in the Prophet – brutal murders though they were, they seemed to have no relation to the carefree students at Hogwarts.

Then, suddenly, the problem had escalated.

There was a moving colour photo of two fifteen-year-olds on Lily’s bed stand. Lily herself, waving and winking with her arm around a small golden-haired girl with clear blue eyes. It made Lily’s thoughts fly back to King’s Cross Station, last summer. That was the last time she had seen Aura Banning.

Lily’s best friend never returned to Hogwarts this year. Over the summer, Aura had disappeared, becoming a statistic of the rising number of casualties of You-Know-Who. Lily hadn’t been able to shake off the fear and anxiety since; You-Know-Who wasn’t something that happened to other people anymore – he was a real, terrifying possibility.

She feared for her family, Muggles with a magical child. Everyone knew that Muggles and Muggle-borns were top of You-Know-Who’s list, thanks to the purity of blood doctrines he had perpetuated during the first few years of his rise.

Her watch told her that she had ten minutes to get to Care of Magical Creatures. Lily shook her head, trying to clear away the gripping fear, and retrieved her textbook. As she left the room, there was one last desperate thought running through her head.

I’d give anything – anything – for this to stop.

Care of Magical Creatures was always an interesting lesson, not least because of a pair of Gryffindor boys who always tended to wreak havoc wherever they went. Last lesson, Professor Kettleburn had ended up with his finger bitten off by a Murtlap which had been provoked by a nose-biting teacup that had dropped out of Sirius Black’s pocket.

Today, the lesson seemed to reflect the dark mood of the wizarding world. Kettleburn led the N.E.W.T. class in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. There were dark looks exchanged between a few students; creatures that were kept near the Forbidden Forest were almost always certainly the more dangerous kind. However, no magical creatures, dangerous or not, awaited them when they arrived at the edge of the Forest.

‘We’ll be going into the Forest today,’ announced Professor Kettleburn in his wheezy voice. There were several gasps of alarm; most students looked thunderstruck. James Potter and Sirius Black, however, merely looked excited. Potter caught Lily’s eye and winked.

‘Scared, Evans?’

She didn’t deign to reply him.

‘I’m here to protect you, if you need,’ he grinned. ‘If you’ll go out with me to Hogsmeade …’

Lily felt a twinge of exasperation. Potter was probably the only person who could carry on in such an ignorant and insensitive manner after the morning’s news. And she was sick of him asking her out. As if she hadn’t refused every request since fourth year, when he first started!

‘No, Potter,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m not going out with you. Not now, not ever!’

‘Quiet over there!’ Professor Kettleburn called, before continuing with his lecture. ‘The creatures we will study today are generally taught as a theory lesson only, as they are formally classified by the Ministry of Magic as “dangerous”. But since we have a trained herd here in Hogwarts, I thought it would be a good opportunity to actually observe … well, not quite observe, but you’ll see what I mean.’

‘Hey, Hagrid!’ said Black suddenly. The rest of the class turned to behold Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts Keeper of Keys and Grounds, stomping towards them, carrying a dead carcass (which was still dripping with blood) in his massive arms. Several girls turned pale. Lily felt slightly apprehensive – whatever they were to study certainly appeared to fit the description of ‘dangerous’.

‘’Lo, James, Sirius,’ said Hagrid. ‘All righ’, Lily?’ He beamed at her, and she managed a grin in return. Hagrid had always been friendly to her, ever since she’d found and brought him an injured puppy back in first year.

‘Hagrid will be – ah – helping me in this lesson,’ said Professor Kettleburn. ‘Lead on, Hagrid.’

‘Righ’ – in here, everyone!’ said Hagrid cheerfully, heading into the Forest. ‘These creatures prefer the dark.’

Hesitantly, the class followed him. They walked for ten minutes or so before arriving at a dark, woodsy area, which the falling snow did not seem to affect. Hagrid dumped the carcass on the ground, and, following a nod from Professor Kettleburn, gave an odd, shrieking cry.

Lucinda Stebbins pointed to the sky, her eyes wide. The rest of the class, on the other hand, were bemused.

‘Today’s lesson is on Thestrals,’ said Professor Kettleburn, who was also looking edgily around and standing well away from the carcass. ‘Can anyone tell me –’

He was cut of by a loud shriek from Jade Heaney, as something invisible started tearing the bloody carcass apart. It seemed as though bits of flesh were being stripped off the bones of the dead animal, and disappearing into thin air. Lily watched, with a sort of horrified fascination.

‘Beautiful, aren’ they?’ said Hagrid proudly. ‘Can anyone see ‘em?’

Lucinda nodded, her eyes still wide and terrified. Potter gave a quick nod. Everyone else shook their heads, gazes still fixed on the quickly disappearing carcass.

‘Yes – Thestrals,’ said Professor Kettleburn, waving his hand in the direction of the carcass. He jumped, as though something had brushed past him – which a Thestral probably had. It was evident that he couldn’t see them any more than the students could. ‘The first question is, what are they?’

‘Winged horses,’ supplied Potter, no longer bright and bumptious, but – amazingly – serious.

Black, however, was his usual self at least. ‘I think I’ve got one here!’ he called with glee. He had his hand stretched out, as though stroking something firm.

‘That’ll be Tenebrus,’ said Hagrid, beaming. ‘Firs’ one born here in the Forest – my special favourite, he is –’

‘Are they invisible? Like the Diricawl?’ asked a Hufflepuff girl, surveying the stripped carcass with new interest.

‘No – only people who’ve seen death can see them,’ said a Ravenclaw boy knowledgeably. ‘It’s supposed to be really bad luck …’

A solid form brushed past Lily, as another invisible Thestral approached. For a moment, she wished she could see it, then checked herself as she realised the implications of her momentary wish.

‘Five points to Ravenclaw,’ said Professor Kettleburn approvingly. ‘Yes – Thestrals are visible only to those who have seen death, which accounts for their association with bad luck. However, whether they are indeed a bad omen remains to be proven. The Thestrals here at Hogwarts are rather useful – I’ll leave Hagrid to tell you about that, then …’

‘Righ’,’ said Hagrid. ‘Er – yeah … they’re – well, they’re ’mazin’ at findin’ their way, anywhere, but they most’y won’ do what yeh say. But this herd here’s a trained one – I reckon it’s the on’y one, too. Don’ know anyone else in Britain who’s managed ter do it!’ He grinned proudly around the class, some of whom were looking dubious, others in awe. Sirius Black gave him a thumbs-up.

‘Anyway … they don’ have much work aroun’ here, jus’ pull the school carriages for yeh, or sometimes Dumbledore don’ want ter Apparate long distances …’

‘So that’s what makes the carriages move!’ said Jade Heaney, looking a little less terrified.

‘What do they really look like?’ asked Lily, intrigued.

‘Black,’ said Potter, staring directly at what was probably one of the Thestrals. ‘With wings, and really white eyes that sort of shine. And its face looks something like a dragon.’

‘Quite an accurate description,’ agreed Kettleburn. ‘At least, according to most books. Hagrid, would you like to tell the class about how you bred this herd here?’

‘Oh, yeah … yeah, we started with a male an’ five females, an’ Tenebrus here was the first baby. It sorta jus’ built up slowly … they take abou’ a year or so to breed. We’ve got abou’ tweny or so now, an’ five o’ the mothers are expecting babies in March. There’ll be even more in a few years, though some won’ live past the next few – on’y live fer ten years, Thestrals.’

It was altogether a very informative lesson. When it was over, Hagrid strolled with them as they trooped back across the Hogwarts grounds, alongside Lily, telling her stories about how he had found the first six Thestrals and raised Tenebrus and other Thestral babies. He had a name for all of them; apparently each had its own distinct characteristics. The way Hagrid put it, Lily could almost believe that raising Thestrals was something commonplace … like keeping a cat or dog. Until she thought about their association to death.

‘It’s jus’ the death thing, yeh know? They’re not really unlucky, like people say.’

‘What does it mean, actually, when you say people who have seen death can see them? You mean you actually have to see someone die?’

Hagrid nodded. ‘S’why so few people can see ‘em. Like today – on’y two in the whole class.’

Lily prayed she’d never see the Thestrals. And then she thought about what Hagrid had just said. Two people in her class – two students her age had actually watched someone die.

It hit her like a gust of wind. She didn’t know why – usually she never thought of arrogant, bullying, trouble-making James Potter if she could help it. But now she realised …

Potter could see the Thestrals.

‘Potter.’ The name flew out of her mouth before she could stop it. Hagrid looked at her in surprise.

‘Of course – his sister. Ever so nice a girl – died when he was abou’ eight.’

‘Potter has – had – a sister?’

‘Didn’ yeh know? Nice little thing she was – I remember when she was at Hogwarts …’

‘What happened to her?’

‘S’not my place to tell. If James wants people ter know, he’ll tell ‘em,’ said Hagrid firmly.

Lily knew better than to pry. She thanked Hagrid, and let herself be caught in the stream of students entering the castle. Imagine, Potter watching his own sister die! If Pet …

Lily squashed the thought immediately. She wondered if Potter missed his sister. He’d been unusually quiet during the lesson. Maybe he was thinking of his sister.

Instinctively, she glanced around when she was inside.

Neither Potter nor Black was around.

They didn’t turn up at lunch, but were back in Transfiguration, more boisterous than ever, and Lily was angry at herself for worrying. She should have known that nothing could affect Potter. He probably didn’t even care about his sister. When did he ever think of someone else besides himself?

Oh, he might have, once – but that was years ago. He had changed since then, and the likelihood of him ever becoming something other than the contentious, self-satisfied prat that he was now was less than zero.

She didn’t even notice that, in her anger and frustration with him, her fearful thoughts about the morning’s attack had been pushed out of her mind.

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December, 1975. Nine days to Christmas …

A hundred mail owls whooshed into the Great Hall just as Lily entered, delivering the letters and parcels between their talons to the respective students. Lily spotted the other Gryffindor girls, and settled into a seat next to Alice. Directly across the table from them, Dorcas was busy paying a delivery owl for her subscription to the Daily Prophet. Lily carefully averted her eyes away from the newspaper; if there were more news of attacks, she didn’t want to know.

‘Did you see the notice on the common room notice board, Lily?’ asked Alice. Lily shook her head as she reached for a slice of toast.

‘No – why? Should I have?’

‘Well, it’s nothing really important. But the last weekend of term will be a Hogsmeade weekend – Dorcas and I are planning to do our Christmas shopping then. Maybe you’d like to join us?’

Lily swallowed a mouthful of toast and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the arrival of a small fluffy owl. It dropped an envelope in front of her and chirped.

‘For me?’ Lily opened the envelope curiously. Who could have sent her a letter?

‘That’s –’ Dorcas began, peering at Lily’s letter from over the top of the Prophet. Before she could finish, however, the letter in Lily’s hands burst into song.

‘Your eyes are green as emerald seas
They make me go weak at the knees
Your hair is enchantingly red
I see it and blood rushes to my head
Beautiful Lily
Around you I go silly
Fulfil this letter’s aims
And come to Hogsmeade with me, love James’

Lily felt herself turn a delicate shade of crimson as all those around her dissolved in helpless giggles. Alice gave her a sympathetic look, but the edges of her mouth were quirking upwards. Lily glared at the offending piece of parchment.

‘Incendio!’ People around her shrieked and edged away as it went up in flames.

‘Miss Evans!’ Professor McGonagall stalked angrily to their table. ‘Ten points from Gryffindor! I would expect you, as a prefect, to maintain a higher level of discipline in your conduct.’

Lily glowered at the pile of ashes before her. Confound Potter and his ridiculous ideas! She’d be damned if she let him humiliate her yet again.

‘Bad luck, Prongs,’ said Sirius, grinning as the boys walked out of the Great Hall after breakfast. ‘Flames in this case certainly don’t signify passion.’

Remus raised an eyebrow – a feat which he was exceptionally good at and well-known for. ‘I’d say they do, Sirius. I think she hates him with a passion. James, maybe you should –’

‘That’s the ninety-second refusal,’ groaned James. ‘Why won’t she just agree? What does she want from me?’ He wrinkled his eyebrows worriedly. Evans hadn’t liked any of his previous attempts. She’d refused his flowers, his sweets, his letters, his polite requests, his begging, his offhand tries to ask her out – and now, his poetry. It was humiliating, to say the least. But that wasn’t the big thing – the problem was, he really did like her. She was different from the other girls: they bored him; she intrigued him. He knew he could talk to her, and she’d like him if they just went out once. They’d been good friends before and he hadn’t forgotten, although he couldn’t really remember why they’d fallen out. Why wouldn’t she give him a chance?

Remus turned to stare at James seriously. ‘James, maybe you need to – oof!’

They turned the corner and Remus walked straight into another student.

‘Watch where you’re going, you oaf!’

‘Sorry,’ said Remus apologetically.

‘You.’ Only one person in the school spoke to Remus in that oily, despising voice. The person who both James and Sirius detested more than Cockroach Cluster (and both boys hated Cockroach Cluster with a passion).

‘Sorry is right, Lupin,’ sneered Severus Snape. ‘I don’t need the likes of you dirtying my robes.’

‘And just what do you mean by that!’ roared Sirius.

Snape glared back at him coldly. ‘I told the filthy half-blood to stay out of my way, Black. I –’ He didn’t get any further, as Sirius lunged at him and grabbed his collar roughly. Snape plunged his hand inside his robes, but James was quicker.

‘Relashio!’ Sparks shot out from his wand. Snape hissed as they hit his wrist and promptly dropped his wand.

‘Apologise.’ James held his wand eye-level with Snape.

‘James – Sirius – I don’t think –’ said Remus hesitantly. James ignored him.

Snape’s face was pale – paler than usual, at least – but his voice was calm. ‘I’ll call him whatever I want.’

‘You’re the filthy one around here, Snivellus,’ growled Sirius, tightening his grip on Snape’s collar. ‘Don’t you dare insult Remus.’

‘You don’t learn, do you, Snivellus,’ said James. How many times would they have to teach Snape to keep his mouth shut?

‘We’ll teach you a real lesson this time.’ Sirius clenched his fist tighter, causing Snape to gasp. James ran through a list of spells mentally, trying to find one that they hadn’t used on Snape before.

‘Stop that! Expelliarmus!’

Five wands sailed away from their owners (even from Peter, who hadn’t said a single word during the entire exchange) and landed neatly in the hands of Lily Evans. James gulped.

‘Hi, Evans!’ He meant to say it brightly, but his voice came out as a squeak. Lily ignored him. Snape gave a derisive snort.

‘Magic in the corridors is prohibited, as you should well know,’ said Lily sternly, with a pointed look at Remus. ‘And I’ve had enough of the three of you. Potter, Black – leave Snape alone. Snape, why don’t you make things easier for yourself and stay out of their way.’

‘Don’t tell me what to do, Mudblood,’ snarled Snape. ‘Give me back my wand.’

That was gratitude for you! James would never know how Lily could stand there calmly and look Snape in the eye.

‘Don’t call her a you-know-what!’ he yelled. He could never bring himself to say the word.

‘Shut up, Potter,’ snapped Lily. She held out Snape’s wand to him; he snatched it away and immediately polished it on his robes, as though her fingerprints on it were filthy. James gritted his teeth. This wasn’t justice!

‘Move along, Snape. I don’t want to see you in another fight.’

He glared at her, but stalked off all the same.

‘Evans, I –’

‘Professor McGonagall will hear about this, Potter. You too, Black.’ She returned the remaining four wands.

‘He called you a you-know-what!’ James burst out angrily. ‘How can you just let him walk away like that?’

Lily fixed him with a seething glare. James thought she was about to yell at him some more (he admitted grudgingly that she was paying him some attention now, at least), but she simply stood there, her narrowed eyes unfathomable. Finally, when she opened her mouth to speak, it was in a soft, but icy-cold tone.

‘You’ll never understand, will you, Potter. You think you’re so cool, but you’re no better – just because you don’t dare say the word Mudblood doesn’t make you any less despicable.’

And she turned sharply on her heel, leaving James to stare after her open-mouthed.

She hated him.

She really, really hated him.

How dare he strut around and pretend to be all righteous and condescending just because everybody believed him to be the golden boy of Gryffindor! How dare he fashion himself as the defender of all Muggle-borns!

He was just as bad and every bit as prejudiced as those who detested her for her blood. The only difference was that instead of ‘Mudblood’, he called them ‘Slimy Slytherin Snakes’. Or worse insults.

Lily couldn’t stand it. Especially when she knew that it could have been different.

If he hadn’t been such a star on the Quidditch pitch. If he hadn’t let all the attention go to his head. If everyone hadn’t pampered and spoilt him and given in to his every whim. She was probably the only one who bothered to stand up to him. Not that it did that much good in deflating his swollen head. No matter how many times she put him down, he just bounced back up like an India rubber ball.

When she thought about the boy he had been, the boy he could have been, and the boy he was now, Lily couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss. Potter hadn’t been all that bad in their first two years at Hogwarts. In fact, they’d been near best friends. She’d first met him on the train, after being scared off by a full compartment of Blacks (including Sirius Black) who had called her ‘Mudblood’ and told her to go home.

Potter had found her first, borrowed a handkerchief for her from Remus (not having had one himself) and charged into the compartment to demand an apology from the Blacks. He’d emerged with a black eye and a letter to Professor McGonagall which earned him a detention upon their arrival at Hogwarts.

Come to think of it, his nature hadn’t changed that much; even now he still had that hero complex. Except now he got into fights for the fun of it. And he didn’t limit his hex-hurling to the ones who deserved it. He picked on just about anyone in the corridors, just to show he could, to show he was cool, to show he was invincible.

And no one ever said anything about it, because he was a Quidditch star, and had been ever since third-year, when he’d been made the youngest Quidditch captain in a century. It didn’t help that girls swooned over him left and right when they weren’t eyeing Black. In fact, that was how they’d fallen out – even if Potter’s thick head probably couldn’t remember something so insignificant. Lily still remembered that day at the beginning of third year, when a bunch of fourth-year girls had entered their compartment, giggling and blushing as they invited Potter and Black to join them. ‘You don’t have to sit with this boring lot,’ one of them had whispered just loud enough for Lily to hear.

It had hurt, terribly, when Potter and Black both left the compartment with bemused but excited expressions. When they returned later, the train was pulling into Hogsmeade station, and they were boasting to an appreciative Peter and a mildly interested Remus about their popularity with the fourth-years as they pulled on their robes.

Lily had only listened in disgust. She continued to be disheartened throughout that year, as Potter and Black rose to the top of the Hogwarts popularity charts; Remus and Peter were relegated to their loyal side-kicks.

It made her sick. And sad too, because she’d thought – hoped, even – that James Potter could have been more than a conceited git.

But he had chosen not to.

‘She hates me,’ moaned James. ‘She hates me.’ He buried his head in his hands.

‘It’s all Snape’s fault, James, you know it.’ Sirius patted his back awkwardly. ‘He’s always up to no good; I bet he’s laughing away now. Stinking git.’

‘Yeah,’ Peter piped up. ‘He’s always insulting us.’

James groaned and turned away. The cold fury in Lily’s tone and eyes were haunting him now – he found himself wishing that she had just yelled at him as usual. ‘You’ll never understand, will you, Potter.’ Had there been disappointment in her voice? But she had never believed him to be good enough to meet her standards, had she?

‘That’s it!’ cried Sirius suddenly. He pushed past a bewildered Peter and exited the common room at a run. James dragged his mind away from Lily and gave Peter a questioning look.

‘He had a brainwave, I expect. He was muttering about Moony having the honours to get back at Snape. Perhaps he’s gone to find Remus?’

‘Remus has lessons, Peter.’

‘Maybe it’s urgent,’ shrugged Peter. ‘Want to play chess?’

‘Er – all right.’ James tried to concentrate on the game, but ended up losing spectacularly.

Lily didn’t even glance in his direction once during Potions. She had already set up her cauldron at a table with Dorcas, Alice, and a Ravenclaw when James entered the classroom. He tried in vain to catch her eye the whole lesson, the result being that the Draught of Peace he was supposed to be making started emitting copious green fumes that caused Professor Slughorn to choke as he came around to inspect their potions.

‘You need to pay more attention to the process of addition of hyacinth roots,’ admonished Professor Slughorn. He moved on to the Slytherin table, where Snape was smugly corking a bottle of perfectly-brewed Draught of Peace.

‘Excellent, Severus – I couldn’t have done it better myself … Not too far off, Miss Reading …’ Slughorn weaved between cauldrons, inspecting the contents of each. He stopped at Lily’s and smiled fondly. ‘Well now, Miss Evans. What have we here? It does smell heavenly.’

‘Peaceful, you mean, Professor,’ corrected Lily with a grin.

‘Of course, of course, how appropriate.’ Slughorn held up her flask and peered curiously at it. ‘May I ask exactly how you achieved this effect?’

‘I scented it with heliotrope nectar,’ explained Lily. ‘It’s inert when used in potions … I thought I’d just try it out.’

‘With excellent results!’ beamed Slughorn. ‘I must write that down, for future reference, now …’

Hoping Potions had put Lily in a happier, more forgiving mood, James made a last futile attempt to meet her gaze. Unfortunately, Slughorn called her and Snape to the front of the class after dismissing the rest, and James resigned himself to following Sirius out of the classroom disconsolately.

Back in their dormitory, Sirius repeated himself three times before James registered that he was talking to him.

‘Come again?’

‘I said,’ said Sirius impatiently, ‘that Snape’s going to get it this time.’

James dragged his mind away from the enchanting topic of Lily Evans, and tried to focus on what Sirius was trying to tell him.

‘What’s the plan this time?’

‘We’re sending him to the Shrieking Shack tonight.’

James blinked. Sirius was joking. He had to be. He laughed.

‘You almost had me going there, Padfoot. Can you imagine? Snape against Moony … he wouldn’t survive ten seconds!’

‘That’s the idea,’ said Sirius, looking pleased. ‘After all, old Snivellus always picks on Moony. Let him get his own back!’

James considered this seriously for a moment. It was a tempting idea, sending Snape to face a werewolf … if he’d even dare, old coward that he was. But …

Snape could get killed.

Which was good, wasn’t it?

NO!

He hated Snape. But he didn’t want him dead.

‘Not a good idea, Sirius. Imagine the consequences … Moony could kill him, you know how he is …’

‘Good riddance!’ sniffed Sirius. ‘Anyway, you don’t need to worry about the details – I’ve sorted him out. He ought to be heading down there –’ Sirius glanced at his watch ‘– about now.’

‘What?!’ James yelped. ‘Sirius, you’re not serious, are you?’

‘Of course I’m Sirius, who else –’

‘Sirius! We can’t just send him to get killed.’

‘He’d do it to us,’ argued Sirius.

You’re no better than them.

The full meaning of Lily’s words sank in there and then. He really wasn’t any better than those he despised. No wonder Lily despised him.

But he didn’t want Snape dead. And – the chilling thought hit him – he didn’t want Remus to be a murderer. Killing was … evil. It was what the Dark side did.

‘No. Sirius, we’ll be murderers. Remus will be a murderer. Did you even think about what’ll happen to him then?’

‘Ah … old Snivellus won’t have the guts to go in … he’ll balk at the Willow …’ But Sirius’s voice didn’t sound convinced.

‘And if he doesn’t?’ James furrowed his brow. ‘Sirius, what exactly did you tell him?’

‘I – I told him how to get past the Willow,’ said Sirius miserably. ‘I didn’t think –’

‘Of the consequences,’ finished James. And there would be consequences.

Snape would meet Moony in the Shrieking Shack.

Moony would attack Snape.

It would kill Remus when he found out.

The Ministry would kill Remus when it got out.

Snape couldn’t be allowed to go in the tunnel. It took only a split second for James to make up his mind. Sirius was still sitting, horror-struck as the full realisation of what he had done hit him. James didn’t care. Sirius was an idiot. He’d deal with him later. Now, there were more pressing matters. He got up and sprinted the length of the common room.

‘Where are you going?’

James almost didn’t answer Sirius’s shaky question. When he did, it came out as a single statement charged with anger and fear and, for once, conviction.

‘To do the right thing.’

---

A/N: My beta, jamc91, deserves a big thank you for drawing my attention to a big error in this chapter. If it weren’t for her, James and Sirius would have been shouting about Remus’s lycanthropy all over the Great Hall!

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December, 1975. Seven days to Christmas …

Lily had been a prefect long enough to know, instinctively, from the echoes that reverberated in the corridors, that yet another fight had broken out. Little did she expect to find a fist-fight between two most unlikely culprits.

James Potter and Sirius Black were engaged in a serious brawl, rolling around on the floor, each tackling the other with all their might. Their angered pummelling was only punctuated by loud and furious insults, none of which were fit for civilised ears.

‘What on earth is going on here?’ yelled Lily over the din they were creating, once she’d got over the shock of finding Potter and Black – best mates Potter and Black, mind you – in a punching match.

No answer save more punches and breathless expletives.

‘OK, that’s it. Stop it, both of you!’ Lily grabbed Black’s shoulder and tried as hard as she could to wrench him away from Potter. Black simply shoved her aside and the two continued to wrestle. Lily gritted her teeth in frustration.

Students generally weren’t allowed to use a wand in the corridors, but Lily decided that this counted as an exception. Two carefully aimed full Body-Binds worked wonders: both boys’ arms snapped to their sides and they fell rigidly apart from each other. Both looked very beat up; Black’s nose was bleeding and he had bruises all over his cheeks, and Potter had a black eye and various bumps on his face and arms.

‘I’m sorry about that, but it really was a last resort,’ said Lily. ‘I’m going to do the counter-curse now, and I trust you won’t start fighting right away – or I’ll just have to do it again.’ Having delivered her warning, she performed the counter-curse and handed Black a handkerchief to stem his bleeding nose. He took it wordlessly and applied it to the bloody organ.

‘Now. Would one of you please explain what that was all about?’

‘It’s none of your business,’ said Black gruffly, staring determinedly at the floor. Potter looked pained, but he kept his mouth shut in a drawn line.

‘Fighting in the corridors is against the rules, I might remind you. I’ll have to take points and report this…unless you have a good reason.’ She arched her eyebrows at Potter, who was usually so quick to come up with a defence of himself whenever she caught him baiting Severus Snape. He avoided her gaze, however, and remained mute.

‘Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance, then,’ said Lily huffily. ‘I’m sorry to do it, but ten points from Gryffindor. And I’ll have to report this to Professor McGonagall.’

Still, both boys remained silent. Lily felt highly discomforted.

‘Er – you’d better go to the hospital wing too,’ she said, eyeing the black and purple marks on their faces, as well as her handkerchief in Black’s hand, which was now drenched in blood. Her comment seemed to hit a sore spot with the boys; Black’s countenance darkened, while Potter turned red and gave a violent shake of his head.

‘Been there,’ he said flatly, as if that explained anything.

‘Suit yourself,’ shrugged Lily. But she frowned at Black’s bloody nose. That she could fix, at least. ‘Let me do something about that nose, at least, Black.’

Black glowered, but didn’t flinch when she tapped him lightly with her wand and said, ‘Episkey.’ He nodded by way of acknowledgement and silently handed her handkerchief back to her. Grimacing slightly at its sodden state, Lily held it between her fingers and cleaned it with a quick ‘Scourgify’, though she mentally noted that she was going to have it well scrubbed and disinfected before she ever used it again.

Lily looked back up at both boys, lost for words. She couldn’t remember an encounter with this pair that didn’t result in her stalking off, livid. A minute passed, in which the silence was as loud as an Augurey’s screech. Finally, unable to stand it, Lily warned them not to start up again once her back was turned and left them, praying they wouldn’t indeed continue their fight.

She should have felt thankful that no further noises showed any indication of it. But Lily felt only apprehension and unease.

There was an aberrant silence in the boys’ dormitory.

Sirius stared moodily at the bedpost, not daring to meet the other boys’ eyes.

James, his face wrinkled in an anxious frown, was fiddling with his wand.

Peter gaped openly at his friends, not knowing what to say, but clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere.

Remus was packing very methodically. He had already stacked all his books neatly at the bottom of his trunk. Now, he was painstakingly folding every article of clothing he owned.

Fifteen minutes passed.

He finished packing his clothes.

‘Damn it!’ exploded Sirius. ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry, all right? You don’t have to go anywhere. Stop packing!’

Remus slammed the lid of his trunk down.

‘I highly doubt that decision should or will be left up to you, Sirius Black,’ he said evenly. He stood and made to lift his trunk.

‘Remus,’ squeaked Peter uncertainly, ‘they haven’t even held a trial.’

Remus hesitated – in an instant, Sirius knocked him backwards onto his bed.

‘You’re not going anywhere, Remus. I don’t care what the entire bloody board of governors say. They can’t expel you!’

‘You’re really dense, aren’t you, Black?’ James finally spoke up. ‘You think this is all a game still? Some prank that we can do detention for? Damn it, these are real consequences – this is what some stupid words out of your mouth caused!’

Sirius narrowed his eyes. For a moment, both boys glared at each other.

‘I’ll bloody set it right, then,’ snarled Sirius.

The dormitory door slammed as Sirius stormed out, leaving three motionless boys staring – one in confusion, another in a mixture of anger and anxiety, and the last with an impassive expression.

Four days to Christmas …

‘The confession of Sirius Orion Black being upheld, this court finds Remus John Lupin not guilty of the charges brought upon him. The school governors hereby leave the punishment of Sirius Orion Black in the hands of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster. This hearing is adjourned.’

The look in Orion Black’s eye as the Head of the Hogwarts School Governors concluded the expulsion hearing clearly suggested that whatever punishment dealt by Dumbledore would be tenfold in his hands. James noticed the look, and shivered involuntarily – Sirius wasn’t going to have a good time of it at home. Then he remembered that it was Sirius’s fault that they were here in the first place and he scowled.

‘Does my evidence count for nothing?’ hissed Severus Snape, a few seats to James’s right. ‘The werewolf and his friends tried to kill me –’

‘Enough, Severus, please,’ said Dumbledore quietly. ‘And I should like to remind you that you are sworn to secrecy on this matter.’

James and Sirius both jumped to their feet as Remus approached. He glanced at them – and walked straight past, heading for his parents, whose relief showed plainly on their faces.

‘Remus, stop,’ said Sirius. Remus turned to regard him with his calm, unblinking gaze. ‘I’m sorry.’ James had never heard Sirius sound so sincere.

‘It’s a big thing to forgive,’ said Remus levelly.

‘I know. I understand.’ Sirius hung his head.

‘I don’t know, Sirius.’

Mrs Lupin placed an arm around her son. Mr Lupin thanked Dumbledore, and they left without a single backward glance from Remus.

‘He isn’t going to forgive me, is he?’ said Sirius morosely. James considered him seriously, torn between anger at his best friend’s actions, and sympathy for the turmoil that he was going through now.

‘I don’t blame him, you know,’ he finally said fairly.

Sirius grimaced. ‘I know. This is all my fault.’

‘Sirius.’ The stern voice of his father accosted him. Sirius held his head up and met Orion Black’s eyes bravely.

‘We’re going home. Now.’

James watched as Sirius swallowed hard and followed his father out of the courtroom.

Peter Pettigrew boarded the Hogwarts Express alone. Lily pondered over this for a few moments as she watched him from the platform. It wasn’t because Potter, Black and Remus were staying at Hogwarts over Christmas; quite the contrary, in fact. They seemed to have left earlier. But why?

‘Don’t you think something odd’s going on?’ she asked, as she followed Alice and Dorcas onto the train.

‘With Remus?’ said Dorcas.

‘Well, Black and Potter too. They’re all three missing.’

They entered an empty compartment and Alice slammed the door shut before throwing herself moodily into a seat.

‘Something’s definitely wrong with Remus,’ she said dejectedly.

‘We know you’re worried, Alice,’ said Dorcas soothingly.

‘Of course I am! First he’s in the hospital wing sick again, only this time the only thing he says to me is, ‘Go away, Alice,’ and then after that he disappears – never mind that we were supposed to go to Hogsmeade together on Saturday – and I haven’t had word from him since …’ she trailed off, looking anxious.

‘It could be a family emergency,’ suggested Dorcas.

‘Doesn’t he at least trust me enough to tell me, then? And why wouldn’t he speak to me when he was in the hospital wing?’

‘Anyway, why would Potter and Black be gone too, then?’ said Lily. ‘I mean, it could be all unrelated, but I highly doubt they all have family emergencies.’

‘It could be something else with James and Sirius …’ considered Dorcas. Lily shook her head firmly.

‘Remus was in the hospital wing three days back, wasn’t he?’

‘Yeah …’

‘And Potter and Black were fighting in the corridors as if it were one of them against Snape that day –’

‘You don’t say!’ ejaculated Dorcas.

‘Potter mentioned that they’d just come from the hospital wing; that was about all I could get out of them … so the three of them were in the hospital wing together, and after that they all disappear at the same time … it’s definitely related,’ concluded Lily.

‘But how?’ said Alice.

None of them had an answer.

James stared at the ceiling of his bedroom and brooded.

It seemed like all he had done this past week was think. Besides rushing down a dark tunnel at the end of which lay a werewolf to save his nemesis. And beating up his idiotic best friend the next day. And attending a trial in order to save said werewolf who was also a very close friend.

OK, so he had done a lot more than just think. But there had been a lot of reflecting among all that too.

It was hard to get his thoughts straight.

Remus wasn’t a murderer. Remus was safe; the case had been dismissed.

Snape wasn’t dead, and he was sworn to secrecy about Remus – a promise that would no doubt irk him as much as the fact that James had been the one to save his life.

Sirius was an idiot. If he’d only kept his mouth shut in the first place, they’d be going along their merry way, without all this trouble. Remus wouldn’t have been in any danger of expulsion and the silver bullet, and Snape wouldn’t be any wiser about his condition.

Yes, there was no question about it. Sirius was an idiot.

But Sirius was also his best friend. And he had done his best to fix what he’d broken. If it hadn’t for his testimony at the trial … James didn’t even want to think about what would have happened to Remus had Sirius’s confession not absolved him.

James made up his mind as his eyes bore a hole through his ceiling. He couldn’t keep blaming Sirius. When they went back to school, he’d let Peter know, he’d make it up to Remus, and forgive Sirius.

The Marauders would all get through this. He would see to it.

Lily, Dorcas and Alice tired of discussing what could possibly have happened to the boys after three hours of brainstorming turned up thousands of scenarios, ranging from the mild (a bad prank gone wrong that had befuddled their brains) to the absurd (Potter was deadly jealous because Remus had chosen Black as an accomplice to murder Severus Snape). The wildest suggestion came from Dorcas, that Remus and Black were secretly in love and Potter had just found out.

‘That’s not funny, Dorcas,’ said Alice. ‘My boyfriend is certainly not gay!’

‘Neither is Black,’ put in Lily, after her initial horror at the images that such an idea conjured up. ‘He must have dated half the girls in the school already – remember in third year, when they had a new girl hanging off each of them each week?’

‘It was just a joke, Alice. All right – let’s stop wondering about this. We’ll likely find out soon enough. Shall we play Exploding Snap?’

Lily agreed immediately, and they coaxed Alice, who was still worried about Remus, to forget about it and join them. The rest of the journey was pleasantly spent trying to avoid the Queen of Hearts, which exploded six times in a row on Lily in the first five minutes.

It was six in the evening when the Hogwarts Express rolled into King’s Cross Station. Platform nine and three-quarters soon became a bustle of activity as students poured out of the train. The barrier separating the magical platform from the Muggle world turned into a bottleneck, with students queuing up to get through. The three Gryffindor girls watched each other soberly for a moment, suddenly remembering that the last time they had said farewell on this platform, one of their number had never returned.

‘Take care of yourself, Lily,’ said Dorcas.

‘Stay safe,’ agreed Alice, shaking Lily’s hand vigorously, as though to emphasise her point. Then they were gone, running through the barrier to greet their parents on the other side.

As Lily waited her turn to pass the barrier, she shook off the anxiety that had fallen over her while saying goodbye to her friends. She was home for Christmas. With her family – Mum, Dad, and Petunia. A smile automatically brightened her face and her steps felt light as she crossed the barrier to the Muggle world.

They were there, waving cheerfully to her as she appeared. Her father, grinning broadly; her mother, holding her arms out … Lily ran straight into them, into the warm embrace.

‘Lily!’ Her mother stroked her hair fondly.

‘I’ve missed you, Mum.’

‘What’ve you done to your hair!’ asked her father, staring as the singed ends of her ponytail. Lily fingered the ends of her hair ruefully.

‘We were playing Exploding Snap on the train,’ she explained. ‘I lost quite badly.’ Her father laughed and ruffled her hair.

‘Exploding Snap … that sounds dangerous, now –’

‘It’s just cards, Dad. It’s nothing to worry about.’

Petunia shook her head in disbelief. Lily turned to her sister, grinning.

‘I could teach you to play, Pet –’

Petunia shuddered. ‘Don’t even think about it, Lily.’ She changed the subject. ‘Where’s that crazy admirer of yours, then?’

‘Ah yes,’ chipped in her father. ‘What happened to the infamous James Potter? What new anecdotes have you to share with us, Lily?’

‘Oh, honestly, Dad …’

Her father wagged a finger at her. ‘I doubt any of us is likely to forget how he asked you out right on the platform, even if it was two years back.’

‘He had awful hair,’ sniffed Petunia. ‘Don’t they have combs at Hogwarts?’

‘Evidently not in the boys’ dormitory,’ said Lily. ‘Look – let’s start home, shall we? I’ll tell you more about my term on the way.’

As she walked comfortably by her parents and sister, and later piled into the old family car, the mystery of Potter, Black, and Remus’s absence pricked shortly at her mind again. But it was easy to push it away, lost in conversation about her schoolwork, and discussion about Petunia’s college studies. Her curiosity would no doubt surface again soon, but now, here, with her family all around her, it wasn’t the place for it.

---

This story is rated PG-13 and the reason for it is this chapter. Warning: it contains violence that some readers might consider disturbing.

For a less descriptive version of the event for more squeamish readers, a tamer version can be found at The Sugar Quill.

---

Christmas, 1975

‘Can you quit?’

The question came out of the blue. Lily raised her head from her homework and stared at Petunia in surprise.

‘Quit what?’

‘That school of yours.’

Lily was even more confused now. ‘Why would I want to quit Hogwarts?’

‘Because it’s not normal,’ said Petunia seriously. ‘Lily, I’ve thought about this – you’re nearly seventeen already. That magic stuff is done – I mean, it’s time for you to think about the real world soon, isn’t it?’

‘Pet, it’s not a game. My school is serious.’

‘Of course it’s not. Look, you can leave and enrol in a proper school, take the A Levels. I know Mum and Dad haven’t got much to fix you up in a good school, but I’m finishing college soon, I can help once I get a job. You could come to my school, although without your O levels it’s probably not possible to get you a scholarship like I did –’

‘Oh Pet … I can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’

Lily sought around for the right answer. ‘Because … because … I belong at Hogwarts, Pet. Don’t you see? I’m a witch – I have to be at Hogwarts to learn how to control my magic.’

‘Control it? Lily, you don’t even have to be like that. Come on, don’t be so stubborn.’

‘I’m not the one being stubborn!’

‘Lily, calm down – think about this logically.’

‘Speak for yourself, Petunia!’ Lily snatched up her wand and directed it at a teacup. ‘Look at this –’ The teacup wriggled, and then became all furry as Lily transfigured it into a rat. It was really quite useful that, in light of the threat of You-Know-Who, the Ministry had lifted the ban on Underage Wizardry.

Petunia shrieked as the rat dashed under her bed. ‘Lily! Stop it! Stop that at once!’

‘I’m a witch, Petunia! I can do things like that! I’m not going to leave Hogwarts and go to your old prissy school or be a boring secretary like you plan to be –’

‘A boring secretary! That’s nice of you; I’m trying to help you here, all right? You don’t need to learn all this weird stuff, honestly you don’t –’

‘Yes I do!’ Lily shot back. She was on her feet – she wasn’t sure when she’d actually risen – and fuming at Petunia. The sisters stared at each other, until a squeak at Petunia’s feet broke the silence. Petunia yelped and leapt onto her bed.

Suddenly, the situation seemed too absurdly funny. Lily couldn’t help herself – her anger faded as quickly as it had built up and she burst out laughing. Petunia looked at her incredulously.

‘Sorry –’ gasped Lily. ‘Sorry, Pet, I got carried away there.’

Petunia sniffed.

‘Really – I shouldn’t have said all that – about your school. I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful secretary and all. But I don’t think I would like it.’

Petunia sighed and shook her head. ‘Think about this, Lily, OK?’

She looked so concerned that Lily agreed. But privately, she knew that she wasn’t even going to consider giving up magic.

James folded his arms and leaned against the door, a frown line etching itself on his forehead as he watched his parents argue.

‘I’ve got a job to do.’

‘It’s Christmas, for God’s sake, Patricia, can’t they spare you this one day to be with your family?’

‘Maybe the Darlington murders didn’t mean anything to you, Andrew, but the wizarding community wants the ones responsible to answer to their crimes–’

‘At your expense. Maybe you don’t realise, Patricia, but you’re essentially neglecting us in favour of those damned Death Eaters.’

‘And just how do you make that out? We’re in a war here, Andrew, a –’

‘A war that’s distracting you from the true purpose. It’s all a game of revenge and power consolidation for Bartemius Crouch and you’re being dragged into it –’

‘We’re saving lives, Andrew! You don’t know what these Death Eaters are capable of –’

‘I know perfectly well, Patricia. So do you. And you want revenge too. For Harriet.’

There was a sharp intake of breath, from James as well as his mother. His sister’s name was taboo in the house; they all knew that. Patricia Potter stared hard at her husband, who met her gaze levelly. Without a further word, she Disapparated with a furious pop.

Andrew Potter kept his eyes trained on the spot where his wife had been, a wooden look upon his face.

James left the room and entered the dining room. The house-elves had prepared a veritable feast for three, and the table was laden with dishes. He seated himself at his customary chair and reached for a plate.

And he ate his Christmas dinner.

‘Have some more pudding, Lily darling,’ coaxed Mrs Evans. ‘You’ve eaten positively nothing!’

‘Just a little, Mum, really, I’ve had plenty,’ insisted Lily. ‘Pet, do you want more pudding?’

‘No, I’m full. Mum – why don’t we help you clear up, we’ve really had enough.’

‘Why don’t we do the dishes, Mum – we’ll join you and Dad in the living room when we’re done.’

‘Girls, that’s sweet of you, thanks.’ Mrs Evans kissed both her daughters’ cheeks.

The kitchen window over the sink looked out onto the wintry street. Lily gazed out contentedly as she rinsed the plates and handed them to Petunia. It was wonderfully cosy, being home for Christmas, her mother’s delectable Christmas dinner filling her stomach and the love of her family warming her soul.

Outside, things were getting pretty warm too, it seemed. A few blocks away, a steady blaze was growing.

‘Pet – I think there’s a fire; ought we to call the fire brigade?’

Petunia peered out of the window, and then stared at Lily strangely.

‘You’re not seeing things, are you?’

‘No – look, there –’

Petunia continued to look at her blankly. Lily felt a chill run through her.

‘Can’t you see it?’ Panicky thoughts were beginning to invade her mind. There was indeed a fire: a third look confirmed it. And if Petunia couldn’t see it, it was highly likely that it was of magical origin.

The first thing that came to mind was Death Eaters.

If they were attacking, here in her own street … Fear gripped her heart like an iron fist. It couldn’t happen. Her family …

Her mind was made up in an instant. Ignoring Petunia’s questioning look, she dashed out of the kitchen and into the room that the girls shared. Her wand lay on her bed table; she snatched it up and gripped it tightly, trembling.

What did she do now? Stay here and wait for Death Eaters to arrive? Wards, she thought. Shields. Anything to deter Death Eaters.

She hurried outside and began casting all the Shield Charms and defensive spells that she could think of. She spent five frantic minutes trying to secure her house against any attack before logical thinking overtook her and she realized that it wasn’t likely that she could resist the Dark magic that You-Know-Who’s followers undoubtedly wielded.

Another glance at the fire in the distance revealed that it seemed oddly concentrated in an area, with no sign of spreading.

Maybe it wasn’t her family in danger. Maybe it was some other Muggles at the mercy of Death Eaters and You-Know-Who. Lily started running towards the fire; if she was the only one who could help, then she would do what she could.

As she got nearer, Lily could see that it wasn’t just one house ablaze but an entire row. And spaced at regular intervals around them were grim-looking people in cloaks …

Lily halted and clenched her wand so tightly that her knuckles went white. One of the cloaked wizards turned halfway towards her direction and yelled, ‘Dawlish! I need you here; the Death Eaters are going to break through the containment barriers –’

Another cloaked wizard pushed past Lily at a sprint and joined the other. Lily caught a glimpse of the badge glimmering on his chest as he passed. Magical Law Enforcement – Aurors. She felt a huge sense of relief. The Ministry was here; they’d catch the Death Eaters.

She had to be sure, though. Slowly, she edged towards the invisible line around the houses where the Aurors were stationed.

The first thing that struck her was the screams. From inside the houses. With a chill, she realised there were people trapped inside, people who couldn’t escape because of the enchantments being held up around the burning houses. People who were burning alive inside. People…who didn’t sound like Death Eaters.

It was as though an invisible wall was separating the Aurors from the people inside: Muggles and Death Eaters alike seemed to be flailing their arms in mid-air, frantically trying to escape the flames licking at their feet.

Lily clutched her wand tightly. Why didn’t the Aurors do something to save the Muggles inside? And what could she do?

How would a sixth-year Hogwarts student, even one whom Professor Flitwick, the dwarfish Charms teacher, proclaimed had an extraordinary natural feel for the subject, manage to save anyone alone?

Yet she couldn’t turn away; nor could she watch this go on.

Lily thought fast. Maybe, if she tried, if she concentrated, she could reverse a part of the wards … enough to let the innocent people through …

Focusing harder on the spell than she had ever done before, training her wand straight ahead, she imagined a hole being formed in the invisible magical barrier.

‘Finite Incantatem.’

There was no sudden explosion, no rush of sobbing Muggles from a hole, nor was there (thankfully) a horde of Death Eaters emerging. In fact, nothing seemed to have happened at all … until a few moments later, her wand still held out, she began to see a shimmer before her that seemed almost tangible.

Behind the wards, Muggles had jumped away as the air in front of them took on the appearance of melted glass. They stared through it at her, screaming for help, eyes stricken with fear and imploration.

And then, the glassy texture of the air disappeared.

Lily felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Was it possible she’d weakened the spell? She hadn’t been able to cancel it, but she might have affected it. If she tried again …

Maybe with another spell?

The Reductor Curse crossed her mind briefly, but what if it worked too well and someone behind bore the brunt of it?

‘You’ve got to figure what sort of Containment Charm it is before you can attempt to break it, girl. And I highly doubt you’ll have any chance of figuring that out, especially now, Death Eater.’

Lily started and turned, her heart racing. Another wizard dressed in Auror garb had his wand pointed straight at her face. The first thing she noticed was that he had only one leg; where the other should have been was a crudely-shaped wooden stump.

Then the fact that he had called her a Death Eater sunk in.

‘I’m not a Death Eater!’ she protested.

‘Prove it,’ growled the one-legged wizard. ‘If you’re no Death Eater, what are you doing meddling with Auror work?’

‘You Aurors are letting innocent people get burnt alive, if you didn’t know!’ Lily pointed out hotly.

‘Aye,’ said the wizard, eyeing her shrewdly. ‘What’s your name, girl?’

‘Lily Evans. And I’m not a Death Eater. Would you mind putting your wand down?’

‘As a matter of fact, I would, Miss Evans –’

‘Wait!’ The Auror that approached them was an elderly witch, her face looking pained. ‘The girl, she –’

‘Could be a Death Eater.’

The female Auror stared hard at Lily’s face. There was something remarkably familiar about the shape of her features, but Lily barely registered this. Her throat felt dry; if they believed her to be a Death Eater, would they chuck her into the fire along with the ones they were currently burning?

‘I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,’ said the witch finally. ‘To breach that Containment Charm, we’ll certainly need a strong counter-cha –’

‘Hold it, Patricia!’ barked the wizard Auror. ‘You’re basing this on the off chance that she isn’t some Polyjuiced Death Eater!’

Patricia rounded on him, breathing hard. ‘Dawlish refuses to reveal which charm he and his team used when they first got here, and damned if I’m to spend the rest of the hour running through every bleeding one of them! If this girl can do the Revealing Spell – and I saw that spell work of hers – then I say let her.’ She whirled back to face Lily, and said in a low voice, ‘Those people need to be evacuated – especially the Muggles. But it’ll take a powerful Revealing Charm first to uncover the spell web; it’s not something many people are capable of. Do you understand?’

Lily looked from Patricia’s frantic face to the wizard’s harsh one. He still had his wand trained on her, and mistrust was clearly written across his face. Slowly, she turned around, and trembling, she cast the most powerful Revealing Charm she could think of.

An amazing thing happened: the air before her began to shimmer, as before, but this time it didn’t disappear. A golden criss-cross pattern was beginning to form. It spread out several centimetres from the point at which her wand was focused, and she could feel her wand tingling from the effect.

A circular web of radius approximately five centimetres shone brightly for ten seconds, then faded off slowly, but it was enough for Lily to see that the Containment Charm was comprised of a strong Anti-Apparition ward as well as a physical impediment barrier and a few more scattered blocking charms which she hadn’t time to place before their visible essence faded away.

She hadn’t known it was possible to see magic in this form.

‘Anti-Apparation, modified. Damn Dawlish,’ muttered Patricia. She closed her eyes, as though concentrating on a problem.

‘I certainly hope you’re telling the truth and you’re no Death Eater,’ said the wizard grimly. Lily turned to face him, and saw that he still hadn’t lowered his wand.

‘I’m not. Really, I’m not! I’m not even out of Hogwarts yet! And I’m – I’m Muggle-born.’

‘Polyjuice,’ growled the wizard. ‘Wait out an hour and we’ll see.’

‘I’m really not a Death Eater in disguise …’

A dry sob from Patricia made Lily turn back to the fiery scene. ‘Too late,’ Patricia whispered, clenching her fists. ‘It’s spread too close …’

It was worse than the most awful horror film Lily had ever seen. The fire was at its peak now, consuming everything within the barrier. There were people on the ground, unconscious – were they even alive? – the flames toasting them to a crisp. And they were probably the lucky ones. Standing among them were others choking and coughing, asphyxiating in the thick, sooty smoke. One little girl had caught on fire – she was running around, wailing at the top of her lungs, flames streaming from her nightdress.

But there was nothing that any of them could do anymore – the fire had reached the edges of the Containment Charm, and to break that down would be to unleash the inferno within and set the other unaffected houses down the street ablaze.

By now the fire was catching those closest to the barrier already, and their panicked screams were escalating in volume. Lily clamped her palms over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear watching. But she couldn’t drive out the terrified screams of tortured, dying people.

It might have taken a minute … half an hour … a full hour. Lily had no idea how long she stood there, frozen with her eyes firmly closed and her hands covering her ears tightly. The screams never seemed to fade, even though fire must have consumed everything, including the very oxygen that supported it, and died of its own accord.

Even when it was over, and the Aurors were beginning to remove the charms in place, the cries were still ringing in her ears. She felt like weeping, yet her eyes were shocked into dryness.

Next to her, Patricia had collapsed to her knees, her head in her hands. She was breathing raggedly, her shoulders shuddering.

‘Patricia,’ said the wizard softly.

‘Merlin,’ she said, in a hoarse voice. ‘I didn’t think – I helped to … Merlin help me …’

‘Patricia Potter!’ Through the smoky haze that seemed to be clouding her mind, Lily registered the use of the name ‘Potter’. At any other time, perhaps, she might have latched on to that. But now, her thoughts were pre-occupied with the horrors of what she had just witnessed. The Aurors were now entering the houses, clearing away the ashy remains of their arson …

‘I can’t go in there,’ breathed Patricia. ‘This is … in all my years, I never … oh, Merlin …’

Her colleague gripped her shoulders tight. ‘Pull yourself together.’

Patricia closed her eyes for several seconds. When she opened them again, there was a hollow look to them, but she seemed to have tightened something within her mind. She grit her teeth and walked away, towards the rest of the team of Aurors, without a word to Lily or the wizard.

Lily followed Patricia with her eyes, and then looked up to see the wizard watching her, with tears in his wizened eyes. He had finally lowered his wand, and his gaze was both regretful and sorrowful.

‘They didn’t deserve that,’ Lily found herself saying, her voice shaking. ‘None of them.’ Even the Death Eaters.

‘No,’ agreed the wizard. ‘None of them.’ He glanced at his watch and back at Lily. Evidently, the Polyjuice hour must have been up, because his gaze softened and he patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

He walked her home, his wooden leg thumping in a gloomy rhythm as he strode along. Lily wasn’t sure how long they took to get back; her parents received her angrily when they arrived – anger that gave way to anxiety when they saw Lily’s closed expression, and the grim one-legged man accompanying her.

Suddenly, Lily felt numb: she wanted nothing more than to run up to her bed and collapse there. Petunia was staring, her face a puzzle. The wizard was talking to her parents in a low voice. Lily made for the bedroom she shared with Petunia, but the wizard called after her.

‘Miss Evans.’

Wearily, she turned to acknowledge him.

‘I apologise for accusing you of being a Death Eater.’

She nodded brusquely. ‘;You were right to be suspicious,’ she told him coolly.

‘Alastor Moody,’ he introduced himself. ‘I’m sure our paths will cross again, Miss Evans.’

Lily shook his hand, and excused herself. She opened the door to the bedroom softly, and closed it gently behind her. Lying down on her bed, she closed her eyes.

Even in her sleep, she heard the screams.

---

A/N: My betas, jamc91 and Birgit, deserve a big hand for their input in this chapter. Birgit helped me to sort out Moody’s characterisation, and jamc91 helped me in a rewrite with more ideas to bring the event more to life. A HUGE thank you to her as well for pointing out a big plot hole!

---

December, 1975. The day after Christmas …

Patricia Potter came home at four in the morning on Boxing Day and went straight to bed. She didn’t see her son watching her from the couch in the living room.

James hadn’t slept much on Christmas night. His father had gone to bed around midnight, and James had taken over his spot in the living room, watching the fire in the hearth burn to ashes as he dozed off on the couch. Four hours later, the coals were smouldering, and his mother came home. James heard the pop as she Apparated into the hallway and knew she was tired; otherwise, she would have gone straight to her room.

‘Mum?’

She was lost in her own world, dragging her feet as she climbed the stairs. She didn’t hear him.

James went back to watching the glow from the coals fade into darkness. But by the time they went out completely, the sun had begun to rise and there was no longer darkness.

Lily woke up at six though she’d barely slept three hours. Every time she managed to doze off, she’d been dragged back to consciousness by the horribly vivid memory of people trapped, screaming and begging, behind an invisible wall. People who had been burnt alive.

In the bed across the room, Petunia slept peacefully, her slumber untrammelled by horrible nightmares. Lily tossed and turned fretfully, wishing that she could be her sister just this once.

If only she hadn’t seen; hadn’t gone and found out about last night’s events …

Then she’d have heard about it when she went back to Hogwarts.

Would she have cared so much, if she’d only learnt about it at Hogwarts?

It was a difficult question to answer. She would have liked to say yes, she would have been just as appalled, if she had read in the Prophet that innocent Muggles had been killed during the quest to hunt down You-Know-Who’s followers. But the truth was … most likely it wouldn’t have as much impact as seeing it with her own eyes.

She wouldn’t have believed such cruelty and heartlessness was possible from the very Aurors who were meant to be saviours of the wizarding world, delivering them from harm.

Briefly, she thought of Alastor Moody, who had agreed with her that the Death Eaters hadn’t deserved it, and the Muggles had even less. She still believed it; even Death Eaters, no matter what awful crimes they had committed, even if they had murdered and tortured countless others, didn’t deserve to be burnt alive.

And to allow innocent Muggles to be sacrificed just for the purpose of killing Death Eaters …

How different from You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters were they?

Lily squeezed her eyes shut, as though the action could close her mind against this disturbing realisation. She tried hard to shift her inner train of thought in a different direction.

It could have been us.

The chilling thought struck Lily like a bolt of lightning. If it’d been just a few streets down, she would be dead now. Her parents would be dead. Petunia would be dead.

It was completely nerve-wracking to think about it.

Softly, so as not to wake Petunia, she got up and tiptoed down to the kitchen.

Usually, Lily didn’t drink coffee, not liking the bitter taste. Today, she made herself a cup and sat at the table, sipping it. She felt as bitter inside as the hot, dark liquid going down her throat.

It was hard to believe that the world continued to turn, after yesterday night. But the sun was still rising, slowly casting its golden rays over a world that seemed to be all burnt to ashes.

It was front-page news for the Daily Prophet: Necessary Sacrifice to Capture Death Eaters.

James was the first to read it; the owl had delivered it at sunrise and he’d paid the five Knuts for their subscription.

So that was what his mother and the rest of the Aurors had been doing last night. James’s blood ran cold as he read the rest of the article.

Ten Death Eaters killed or captured. Thirty-six Muggles dead.

The Aurors had done this. His mother had done this.

The Prophet called it revenge for the Darlington murders.

Revenge was what his father had called it, yesterday.

Revenge was his reason for hexing and cursing Slytherins in school.

Revenge was what had nearly got Remus expelled.

Revenge had killed thirty-six innocent Muggles who probably hadn’t even been involved except to be so unlucky as to become random casualties.

What was the point?

He’d been heading down that path himself. James realised this with a chill. Would he become as ruthless as Bartemius Crouch, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, if he went on the way he did, with his hexes and jinxes and petty vengeances?

Lily had been right about him all along. And he’d been too arrogant to see it.

Lily.

James felt his insides twist with sudden anxiety as a single sentence from the article caught his eye: ‘The Aurors gathered last night at the seaside town of Folkestone.’ Folkestone. He scanned the paper again to be sure he had read correctly.

Because Lily lived in Folkestone.

Had Lily been in that fire? Had she been … was she …? His mind faltered at the word ‘dead’. Surely not – not Lily, of all people!

His heart raced as he carefully scrutinised every last detail of the paper, praying that he wouldn’t see anything confirming that she had been a victim, one of the thirty-six Muggle casualties – not that she was a Muggle, but it’d be assumed so, if she’d been – if she was …

It was inconclusive; James couldn’t be sure if Lily had been involved or not.

Please don’t let her be, please let her be safe.

He didn’t know what he’d do if she was gone. A world without Lily seemed bleak and dreary.

‘James.’

His mother, looking worn and haggard, framed by the doorway, was watching him. Her eyes flickered towards the Prophet in his hands, and her face sagged even more.

James felt a burst of anger surge through him. How could his mother actually be part of something like this? After all she’d taught him, after he’d believed in her, looked up to her …

‘James –’

‘I don’t want to hear it,’ he said. He was aware of his mother’s pleading eyes on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet them. He didn’t want her to explain herself to him, to mitigate this horrific thing that she had done, didn’t want to believe that it was any less wrong because of whatever reason she had.

Finally, she left him alone. James heard her footsteps echo down the hallway.

What was he to do now?

Lily crossed her arms and met her parents’ eyes defiantly.

‘Whether you like it or not, Dad, I’m already a part of the magical world. I can’t just leave.’

‘Lily, your father and I are worried about your safety,’ pleaded Mrs Evans.

‘From what Mr Moody told us, this – Dark Lord character, this war the magical world’s in … it isn’t something you should be involved in,’ said Mr Evans.

‘And you think I’ll be safe away from Hogwarts and magic? Dad, I need to learn how to use my magic even more because of this! Do you know what Death Eaters do? They torture and kill Mug – non-magic people for fun! I need to go to Hogwarts, Dad; I need to learn how to protect us!’

‘And what if something happens to you in school, what if these – Death Eaters attack you there?’

‘Dad, Hogwarts is the safest place possible in the magical world!’

‘I really don’t think you should go back, Lily. It’s far too dangerous.’

‘But I have to, Dad. Mum! Don’t you agree with me? I need to go back to Hogwarts.’

‘I really don’t want you involved in all this …’

‘Mum, we’re all involved in this…it’s a war concerning you too, even if you don’t understand it.’

‘A war where they treat people like us, your family, as cannon fodder, if I understand it correctly,’ interjected Mr Evans.

Mrs Evans sighed. ‘Why don’t you tell us more, Lily?’

‘It’s not easy to explain, Mum.’

‘Try.’

‘Well … it starts with a Dark wizard … like a criminal? He went bad and used his magic in wrong ways. And – there are some people in the wizarding world who think that Muggle-borns like me shouldn’t be allowed to use magic, and that Muggles are inferior because they don’t have magic. And the – the Dark wizard thinks that way, and he’s got a lot of followers so they’re trying to gain power. And the Ministry of Magic – that’s the government – is fighting against him, trying to stop him.’ When she put it that way, it sounded so simplistic. And yet it was so much more complicated; Lily wasn’t sure herself whether it was a fight for Muggle and Muggle-born rights. Or a case of revenge against the other side for the deaths they had caused. Or simply a fight that had to continue because it had been started.

Her mother, thankfully, seemed to understand enough.

‘So you’re saying … this Dark wizard would like to wipe us out?’

‘Something like that.’

‘To tell the truth, it sounds rather fantastical.’

‘It’s not a fantasy, Mum. It’s magic – and it’s my world now. I’m a witch.’

‘I know, I know … it’s just … it’s just hard to accept, that you’re part of this something … a war which is so hard for us to understand. But I suppose … I understand that you can’t just leave either ...’

Lily nodded hard. Her mother sighed once again, and turned to her father.

‘She’ll have to go back, David.’

‘You couldn’t … try to adapt to a life without magic, Lily?’ asked Mr Evans.

‘It’s not a matter of adaptation, Dad. I am magic. I couldn’t ask you to adapt to a life as a girl, could I?’

Slowly, her father nodded.

‘You can’t just let her!’ Petunia, who had been silently watching the argument, suddenly leapt to her feet.

‘Pet –’ started Lily.

‘You’re going back to that school – after you saw what your people do? Knowing how dangerous it is? I can’t believe it!’

‘Pet, that’s where I belong!’

‘You’re just going to get yourself killed there and then what are we going to do?’

‘Pet, I’m not going to be killed!’

Petunia stared at her with blazing eyes. ‘You’re a fool, Lily,’ she said, in a soft, deadly voice. Then she walked out of the room.

Mrs Evans put her arms around Lily. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll come round.’

‘I hope so,’ murmured Lily.

He hadn’t spoken to his mother the entire day. He’d gone out, with his trusty Nimbus 1000, to do some very steep dives. James might be a Chaser, but he’d always admired and loved Seeker-style dives. The house-elves had packed him sandwiches for lunch, which he ate when he was good and hungry.

The rest of the afternoon he’d spent polishing his broom, as sleet started to fall outside.

Patricia Potter didn’t join her husband and son for dinner. It was a quiet affair; they sat and ate – Andrew Potter slowly; James gulping down enormous bites.

Eventually, his father spoke.

‘You need to talk to your mother, son.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘You hurt her, James.’

James’s eyes flashed. ‘Do you know what she did?’

‘You owe her a chance to explain herself, at least.’

‘I don’t want excuses.’

‘You’re going to listen to her, regardless.’ His father’s eye had a steely glint, the kind that meant ‘you had better do as I say’. Recklessly, James decided not to heed it this time.

‘Give me a good reason.’

‘You owe her that much respect, James!’ Andrew Potter rarely raised his voice; James wondered that he didn’t quail before it this time. Without noticing, he was on his feet, glaring in defiance at his father.

‘No,’ said a quiet voice. ‘He doesn’t.’

‘Patricia, I thought you weren’t hungry.’

‘If he’s not ready to accept me, then he’s not.’ She spoke to his father, but her eyes were on him, half hopeful, half disappointed. James felt his insides squirm. His mother turned around and walked out stiffly, as though on leaden legs.

And then, the doorbell rang.

A few minutes later, James found himself staring as a wet, shivering Sirius followed his mother into the room.

‘H-hey, James,’ said Sirius, through chattering teeth.

‘Sit down, Sirius,’ said Mrs Potter.

‘I’ll tell the house-elves to make him a warm bath,’ said Mr Potter immediately.

James continued to stare at Sirius, dumbstruck. His best friend looked at him pleadingly.

‘I couldn’t think where to go – I was going to go to Andromeda, but I think she and her husband are away, and there’s no one else –’ Sirius’s voice broke and he blinked furiously. After a few moments, he asked, ‘Are you still mad?’

‘I’m – surprised,’ said James, finally finding his voice. ‘What happened to you?’

‘Ran away. I’m not staying another moment with – with them. I’m not taking anymore of their bigoted crap.’ Sirius’s chest was heaving with anger and frustration. ‘I had to climb out the window; I haven’t got anything, they locked away everything but my wand, and they’d have to kill me to take that from me. They were going to send me to Durmstrang, when I said I didn’t believe in all that stuff – I won’t believe in all that rubbish –’

‘Oh, Sirius,’ said Mrs Potter, cutting him off in the middle of his almost incoherent tirade She wrapped her arms around her son’s best friend. ‘You can stay here for as long as you want.’

James watched them, and something exploded in his chest. Sirius had done something awful; he was still trying to make up for it. But James’s mother, knowing about everything that had happened, was willing to welcome him anyway.

Why shouldn’t he forgive them both?

‘James, would you take Sirius up and lend him a change of clothes? The house-elves are drawing a bath for him.’ Mr Potter re-entered the room.

‘C’mon,’ said James. Sirius followed gratefully.

‘Thanks, James – I really didn’t know where to go, you know, and I hoped maybe you could forgive me for … you know …’

‘S’all right, mate,’ said James, clapping him on the back. He dug out a set of robes from his cupboard and chucked them at Sirius. ‘Go get that bath now, you dog. You can tell me about everything when you’ve got your fleas washed away.’

With a grin, Sirius caught the clothes, and headed for the toilet.

James sensed his mother standing behind him.

‘I’m ready to listen, Mum,’ he said.

Midnight, December 31, 1975

Lily Evans watched the hands of the clock move into position.

Please let this fighting stop.

James Potter clinked his glass of champagne against his mother’s and downed it in one gulp.

Please let me make things OK.

1976 arrived.

---

January, 1976

There were voices echoing along the dimly lit corridor.

Lily frowned as she strode briskly through the halls, towards the source. Although there were still fifteen minutes before curfew, most students should already be back in their common rooms by now.

Plus, the snippets of conversation – ‘confrontation’ would be a better word for it – sounded like something she ought to put a stop to.

‘What do you want from me?’

‘You’re a nasty piece of work, aren’t you?’

‘Slimy git.’

‘Don’t think we don’t know what you are.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

It sounded like a typical Potter and Snape argument. Except the voices did not match Potter’s arrogant tone or the icy sneers of Snape. One of the students did sound like Sirius Black, but the defensive words issuing from his mouth were certainly not typical of Black.

‘– all Dark wizards.’

‘Vile snakes, the lot of you.’

God forbid that other students were following in Potter and Black’s footsteps. Another set of supercilious troublemakers was not what Hogwarts needed.

‘Don’t insult my family!’

‘Your family. I know what your family’s like.’

‘Heard your brother ran away from home. Only one of you with any sense.’

‘He’s not my brother. He’s a stinking blood traitor. And so are you!’

‘You shut your mouth!’

‘Make me. You know you are – hanging around with Mudblood filth like Jones –’

‘You bastard!’

‘Furnunculus!’

‘Tarentallegra!’

She could hear the spells ricocheting off the walls. This definitely had to be stopped. Lily sighed as she quickened her footsteps. The tension around Hogwarts was heightening every day. She rounded the corner …

‘Expelliarmus!’

… and stopped dead in her tracks. That was Potter’s voice. And it was Potter himself, advancing on the boys with their wands in his hands. But what was he doing? And more importantly, what further trouble was he going to cause?

‘What’s going on here?’

The three fourth-years watched him apprehensively. Regulus Black crossed his arms and gave Potter a sullen glare.

‘He – he insulted Hestia,’ explained Kingsley Shacklebolt nervously. ‘He called her a –’

Lily would have bet anything in the world that James Potter would immediately hex Black’s younger brother right there and then, given his track record. His next words came as a startling surprise.

‘That doesn’t sound like what I heard. The two of you seemed to be provoking him. Care to explain that?’

‘He deserves it!’ snarled Gabriel Dewitt. ‘His whole family’s Dark. I bet he’s in league with You-Know-Who!’

There was a ringing silence. Potter’s face was unfathomable. Finally, he spoke up.

‘That’s a pretty big accusation, Dewitt. I’d advise you not to make assumptions when they aren’t supported.’ His voice was strangely cool. ‘And fighting in the corridors – or anywhere at all – isn’t going to help matters for either side. Ambushing someone like this simply proves that you’re no better than them, Dewitt. And petty insults based on prejudice don’t make you superior, Regulus.’

Regulus Black started, as Potter used his first name. Shacklebolt looked properly admonished. Dewitt scowled.

‘Fine way for you to talk, Potter. What are you going to do, anyway? You’re not a prefect.’

‘I’m not,’ agreed Potter. ‘And I’m not the best example for you either. I don’t have the best record, exactly. I’m not proud of it. I can’t take points, or give detentions – but I hope you’ll think about what I’ve said anyway.’

Dewitt fell into a brooding silence. Shacklebolt nodded musingly.

‘Anyway,’ said Potter, with a brief glance at his watch. ‘It’s nearly curfew. You’d better get on back to your common rooms.’ He handed back their wands. Dewitt and Shacklebolt hurried off immediately. Regulus Black, however, glared at Potter.

‘Don’t think this changes anything, Potter,’ he growled.

‘I think Sirius did the right thing, Regulus, for all it’s worth,’ said Potter steadily. ‘You probably don’t agree with me. And I know Sirius isn’t going to try to talk any sense into you. But I hope you’ll see it one day. And maybe the two of you …’

‘Shove off, Potter,’ snarled the younger boy. He turned on his heel and stalked off, nearly bumping into Lily. She sidestepped to avoid him, and found herself facing Potter.

Hazel eyes met green and widened in surprise. She knew he was probably wondering how much she had overheard. Or was he acting? The thought suddenly crossed her mind that it had all been staged – surely James Potter couldn’t have changed his personality overnight.

And then he nodded civilly to her.

‘Lily,’ he said politely, and continued on his way, without any further comment.

Maybe it wasn’t an act after all.

It was only afterwards, as she lazed in an armchair in the Gryffindor common room, letting her friends’ chatter wash over her, that she realised that he had, for the first time, called her Lily.

None of the Marauders were paying attention during Transfiguration.

Sirius’s eyes flickered occasionally to Remus, who stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge that his friend was attempting to catch his gaze. Peter alternated between copying notes and watching his friends uneasily. James frowned at Remus, willing him to meet Sirius’s gaze just once, but to no avail.

Something had to be done, James realised. Remus had been closed off to everyone since the incident with Snape. He hadn’t spoken to the Marauders, he avoided people – he’d even broken up with Alice and she hadn’t been involved at all.

The bell rang. Professor McGonagall cleared the board with a brisk wave of her wand.

‘Homework, twelve inches on the applications of Human Transfiguration. You’re dismissed.’

Remus packed his quills and parchment into his bag slowly and meticulously – slower than was necessary, because Sirius was hesitating. Professor McGonagall eyed them with a look that plainly warned them not to dawdle as she strode out of the classroom. Sirius sighed and snapped his bag shut; Remus was still loading his quills one by one.

James watched them with a scowl, then made his decision. He crossed to the door and slammed it shut.

‘Colloportus!’

Remus and Sirius both looked up at the sound of the door and eyed him in confusion.

‘You’re going to talk,’ James said steadily.

Sirius’s eyes darted towards Remus.

‘Let us out,’ said Remus stiffly.

‘No. We aren’t going anywhere until we’ve sorted all this out.’

Remus’s eyes narrowed. ‘There’s nothing to sort out.’

‘Yes there is. It’s been more than a month already. You haven’t spoken to any one of us – except Peter and that’s only to ask him to pass the salt!’

‘And the toast,’ supplied Peter.

‘What is there to say?’ shrugged Remus.

‘Plenty, if you’d listen!’ said Sirius suddenly. Remus finally looked at him, with a long, cool glance.

‘Fine,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll listen. But it isn’t going to be anything more than empty apologies, is it?’

‘I ran away from home,’ Sirius blurted out.

Remus blinked, nonplussed at this non sequitur.

‘You – left home.’

‘Yeah.’ Sirius stared at his shoes. ‘They – my – they weren’t happy about – about the trial. And I wouldn’t accept that – that they thought you should be …’ He swallowed hard, before whispering, ‘Put down.’

‘So you ran away.’

‘I’m not going back,’ said Sirius. ‘They’re not my family anymore. You’re my family,’ he choked out suddenly. ‘You and James and Peter. We’re brothers. I – I want to keep this family. I don’t want any other. And if you won’t – if you can’t forgive me…’

‘We’re all sorry,’ said James. ‘If there’s anything we can do to make it up to you…’

‘Can we stop fighting, Remus? Please?’ said Peter.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Remus placed a hand on Sirius’s shoulder.

‘I couldn’t live with myself if I bit anyone. Do you understand, Sirius?’

Sirius nodded fervently. ‘I won’t – not ever –’

‘I almost killed Snape. I almost killed James. I don’t know why you’re still talking to me now, James –’

‘You’re my friend, Remus. I know you never intended to do any of it.’

‘I – you – both of you – you don’t think that I’m just a – a weapon?’

Sirius gave his head a vehement shake. ‘No, Remus, it wasn’t like that. It was just a stupid thing that I said without thinking, and I’m really sorry and I’ll do whatever you ask now, to make up for it.’

Remus considered him for a moment. ‘I’m not ever going to leave the Shack again. You’re not taking me out of there.’

‘I give you my word, we’ll stay in the Shack – we can still be around you, can’t we, Remus?’ asked James.

‘It might be better if you didn’t.’

‘Only to stop you mutilating yourself – I swear! We won’t go roaming.’

‘I don’t know … well, all right. But you must promise it, James. Sirius.’

‘We promise!’ they both said in unison.

Finally, a hesitant smile crept across Remus’s face. James grinned back in relief and pulled them all into a brotherly embrace.

No further words passed between them, but an understanding had been reached.

She was a Ravenclaw. Dark-haired. Thin to the point of anorexia. Her eyes were hollow, her long hair unkempt, and she was perched on the balcony of the Astronomy Tower.

‘Don’t take a step closer!’ warned Annemette Darlington. ‘I’ll jump – I’ll really jump.’

Lily stopped moving. ‘Please. Don’t do it. There’s so much more to life …’ She shivered as the horrific images of Christmas flashed through her mind. So many had died then, in retaliation for the murder of the family of this pitiful girl standing before her.

‘More to life?’ cried Annemette hysterically. ‘I lost my entire family. I’m going to be with them now!’

‘They wouldn’t have wanted you to.’ The deep voice of James Potter sounded behind Lily.

‘You don’t know that!’ Annemette was looking more and more agitated by the minute.

‘Annemette, calm down,’ pleaded Lily.

‘Shut up! I’m going to jump. I’m going to jump! I’m going to jump!’

Potter left, his footsteps echoing as he took off down the staircase. Lily felt like screaming, Don’t leave me here to deal with this myself! That useless Potter …

Pull yourself together, Lily. Keep her talking. Soothe her.

‘Who’s your best friend, Annemette?’

The abrupt question startled Annemette.

‘I don’t know!’ she wailed. ‘No one cares!’

‘I do,’ said Lily gently.

‘I don’t even know you!’

‘You do now – I’m Lily Evans.’

‘You just don’t want me to jump.’

‘That’s right, I don’t.’

‘Well, I want to jump.’

‘Why?’

‘Because my family’s dead.’

‘You don’t have to join them.’

‘I want to. I don’t want to spend another Christmas alone. I want my Muuum …’ Annemette’s chest heaved with a great sob and she nearly tumbled off the rail. Lily rushed forward.

‘Stay back!’ screamed Annemette.

‘You don’t want to take your own life! Look, be rational about this, all right?’

‘They tortured and killed my family, do you know how terrible I feel knowing that? I should have been with them, I should have died with them, I haven’t any right to be here and alive …’

‘I know how awful it is – I’ve seen how people can die, but you mustn’t add your life to those lost! Don’t do this, please! It’s not worth it!’

Annemette stared at her through deadened eyes. ‘Not worth it? You haven’t been me, you haven’t lived the past two months as I have … you wouldn’t understand!’

‘I could try.’ As she talked, she could see someone rising on a broomstick behind Annemette, someone with messy hair and black-rimmed glasses …

‘No,’ said Annemette, her voice deadly serious. She turned and pushed herself off the balcony rail. Lily dashed forward to grab her robes but they slipped through her fingers …

And James Potter caught Annemette Darlington, one strong arm around her waist, the other arm steering them back to safe ground. Relief washed through Lily as she sprinted down the Tower, through the castle corridors and burst out the front door to the grounds where Potter had landed.

‘Why didn’t you let me fall?’ Annemette wept.

‘Because your life is precious,’ said Potter gravely. ‘And we –’ his eyes flickered towards Lily ‘– won’t let you waste it.’

‘Why did they have to die?’ Lily took the younger girl in her arms, her own tears falling into Annemette’s dark hair. It was a question there was no answer to, a question she had wondered about too. Why did anyone have to die? For prejudice, for power, for revenge?

She held the girl until her sobs subsided, and then helped her up and took her to the hospital wing. Potter was nowhere to be found by then.

Only when she left the hospital wing did she realise that she had an extra cloak draped over her shoulders. And the initials on the clasp were ‘J.P.’

---

The Leaving Feast, 1976

Ravenclaw had won the House Cup this year, but no banners of blue and bronze were in sight. Instead, the bare Great Hall had a pervasive aura of gloom.

The students quietened and looked expectantly to Dumbledore as he stood to deliver his end-of-term message.

‘Once again, another school year is ending,’ he began. ‘I would first like to offer my congratulations to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, for their splendid performance in vying for the House Cup this year. As it is, Ravenclaw is in first place by a narrow margin of ten points, at four hundred and fifty points. Gryffindor is close behind with four hundred and forty, and Slytherin and Hufflepuff in third and fourth place with three hundred and ninety and three hundred and thirty points respectively. Well done, all of you.’

There was a spatter of applause, but it was evident that the same question was running through the minds of all students: what had happened to the decorations for the House Cup winners?

‘I have, however,’ continued Dumbledore gravely, ‘a matter of great importance to address you all about. I am sure that all of you are familiar with the events of last Christmas. For those who are oblivious, however, I will recap: forty-six lives were lost in a tragedy caused by the cruelty and thirst for vengeance of us wizards and witches. As a mark of respect for those whose lives were lost, the Great Hall has not been decorated. I should also like us to observe a moment of silence now.’

He bowed his head and closed his eyes, as did the other teachers along the High Table.

‘There may be some of you who oppose this view of the incident,’ he said, lifting his head. ‘You may feel that it was a necessary move by the Ministry, and that the lives of innocent Muggles are of no consequence. There may even be those of you who believe Lord Voldemort –’ there was a collective gasp from some students, which Dumbledore ignored ‘– and the purity of blood doctrine which he advocates.

‘I am not here now to lecture you on who is right or wrong. But I would like to impress upon each and every one of you the preciousness of life. For every life, no matter how insignificant it may seem to you, is of irreplaceable worth. I should like you all to reflect upon that, as you return home for the summer holidays.’

Dumbledore’s usually twinkling blue eyes took on an even more serious gaze as they swept across the four house tables.

‘The days before us will continue to get darker. I regret to say that we are indeed entering a full-scale war; the years to come will not be easy. Many more will die, whether in noble sacrifice or pointless massacring. Families will be torn asunder, lives will be ruined. This is not a fight where we can sit on the fence. All of you will, eventually, face a difficult choice between what is right and what is easy.

‘I can only hope that you can find the courage within you to do what is right. May light prevail, even in these times of darkness.’

A ringing silence followed the end of Dumbledore’s speech. Grimly, he took his seat, with the wide eyes of hundreds of students fixed upon him.

And then, from the Gryffindor table, James Potter stood and began to clap.

In a thrice, Sirius Black was on his feet as well, following the lead of his best friend. Slowly, others followed suit.

Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, forming the rest of the little gang.

Lily Evans, her face alight with fervour and hope.

Alice Moody and Dorcas Meadowes, their hands raised above their heads as they applauded.

Annemette Darlington, tears streaming down her face, but clapping until her palms hurt.

Not everyone stood; at least half the Slytherin table remained firmly and disdainfully in their seats.

But it was enough: enough to signify that there was still hope for the wizarding world, in the youths who would inherit it. And like a phoenix, the light would rise from the ashes and prevail.

---

A/N: Having finished this story, I'd just like to thank, once again, my wonderful betas, jamc91 and Birgit, for all their help and the effort they've put into helping me get this story in ship-shape condition! I can never thank them enough!

I’m also really grateful to the readers who have followed this story all the way through, especially those of you who have left me such insightful and cheering reviews! Thank you ever so much! You really brighten a writer’s day!

LaurenDawnie deserves a special mention for encouraging me to cross-post here; those of you who have enjoyed this fic on Portkey, you have her to thank!

In writing Ashes, I wanted to explore the shift in Lily and James’s relationship – a gradual change from what JKR presented us with in OotP to something that could develop into the love from which Harry was conceived, as well as the catalyst which must have sparked that change. I hope I’ve managed to weave the two events together, from the lead-up to the climax, winding down to the resolution.

There are still many aspects of Lily and James’s changing relationship to explore, more threads hanging loose, characters with histories begging to be written, futures that have already been mapped out in my mind. I have done so in my sequel, Rising from Embers, which can currently be found (complete) at Checkmated. The final part, Falling with Grace, is also in progress at Checkmated, and I hope to have it finished before the arrival of DH.

Once again, thanks to all,
shiiki