I'll Fight For You
By Hazelmist/Summerskies
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I really think that you'll enjoy this one even though it is rather long.
Chapter 18: Caught
The man, who I've barely seen since I got here a week ago, keeps us at bay with a commanding stare that isn't quite as harsh as a glare. James and I stay where we are, barely daring to so much as breathe. He walks past us and approaches Hope, who's hunched over and silently crying into her hands.
"Hope?" he asks, his face softening.
He stoops down so that his eyes are level with hers. He sweeps a hand over her hair, a paternal gesture, squeezing her shoulders.
"Hope, it's me, Danny," he continues softly, but Hope isn't responding, much like Gracie after her parents had died. It's amazing how similar she is to Gracie.
"Danny" gives it up as a hopeless case, as if this isn't unfamiliar to him. He straightens, running a hand through his messy hair, looking remarkably like his son who seems to have forgotten about his strong hold on my arm. I should remind him, because I think my arm's starting to tingle. It might be going numb…
Danny holds out one of his hands, palm up as if trying to catch rain. He tilts his head, concentrating on the ceiling.
"Heather," he calls wearily.
POP!
The woman materializes at his side. Dressed in a nightgown and hugging a thick quilt to her shoulders, she blinks groggily but wears a worried frown.
"You must've noticed the wards need to be replaced, I thought it could wait until the morning…" she stops immediately when she notices her son and me.
"Goodness, it's nearly one, what are you two doing up at this hour?" she asks.
James and I stammer out some lame excuses.
"We couldn't sleep-"
"I was really thirsty-"
"The snoring was too loud-"
"And the bed bugs were biting-"
That last one was all James, and I thought he was the experienced liar.
Danny lays his hands on his wife's quilted shoulders, and gently steers her away from us and toward the sniveling girl in the corner.
"OH!" Her hand flies to her mouth and she rushes toward Hope. She doesn't look the least bit surprised as she scoops the girl up into her arms with that incredible maternal strength that all mothers seem to have. But maybe she's mistaking her for Gracie as I so often did. However, James's Dad, he called her Hope.
"What happened?" she asks her husband, as Hope slumps in her arms.
"Why don't you ask your son?" Danny folds his arms across his chest, nodding toward us. Heather looks at us and her eyes widen. She glances back at him, and then at us, holding the motionless Hope protectively to her chest.
"How long have you been there?" she interrogates, forgetting the fact that she saw us when she first Apparated into the kitchen.
"We came down for some tea, and then she comes in…" James trails off, and I realize that this one time, we should've lied.
"You mean…" Heather seems at a loss for words as she continues, "you know… did she…?" she looks as if her head's swimming, but Danny quickly reads our unguarded expressions.
"You spoke with her."
He knows we know. I look down at my feet, and James bows his head as well.
"Look at me."
Obediently, James and I lift our heads and look him in the eye. He directs us to the two nearest chairs and takes a seat himself in front of us. Heather attends to Hope, rocking her like a baby, and I realize that she's putting her to sleep. She nods to her husband, keeping her eyes trained on us.
"One of you, tell me what happened here." He takes off his glasses, and wipes them on his shirt before putting them back on. "And don't leave anything out," he adds as an afterthought.
James and I have a quick silent argument to see which one of us will have to do the explaining. With a well-aimed kick to James' left shin, I win. James grimaces and glares at me, but Mr. Potter clears his throat. James quickly starts to explain what happened when we found Hope's steaming mug of coffee in the kitchen.
His voice fills the room. Danny listens intently, leaning forward in his chair. Heather sits on the floor, still rocking Hope, though the girl fell asleep long ago and started to snore softly. I watch him with rapt attention, letting his voice wash over me like a warm ray of sunlight streaming in through a window. He moves his arm sometimes, without knowing, giving his words a powerful effect. Every time he lifts his arm, it brushes against mine, and I find myself waiting, almost hoping for him to move his arm again. When he finishes and the silence has settled, I'm still looking at him, still watching his face, still longing for him to lift his arm again, just so that he'll touch me again.
What the hell?
I blink, pressing a hand to my forehead. I really am coming down with something. I ought to get this checked out by Madam Pomfrey, hallucinations and insane thoughts in the wizarding world can be deadly.
"Come on, Lily."
"Huh?"
James takes my hand. I slide off the stool, and let him lead me from the room. The door swings on its hinges, nearly catching me on the back swing but James pulls me out of the way. Suddenly, he turns me around and pushes me up against the wall. My breath hitches and my eyes widen.
"James!" I squeak when I finally find my voice.
"Sshhh…" He presses a finger to his lips, and points to the swinging door, which finally closes. Behind the door, James' parents are having a whispered conversation. I realize that they probably told us to leave the room so that they could talk but that in their haste they must've forgotten to place a silencing charm on the door.
"The wards needed to be replaced," Heather is quietly saying to her husband, "I knew this was going to happen, I told you I didn't want them all here for Christmas."
"It's not their fault and it's not hers either, someone was bound to find out no matter what we tried to do," Danny tries to placate her but Heather ignores him.
"This is the third time it's happened, Danny; if she catches one more glimpse of Gracie I think she's going to go insane!"
"She's already bloody insane, Heather! She's forty-one-years-old and she's been trapped in the body of a sixteen-year-old," he argues, his voice rising.
"It's better than being six, like when Gracie first found her wandering around the house," Heather hisses.
"You know as much as I do, Heather," Danny lowers his voice before continuing, "that they would've killed her if they tried to do anything else for her. It's a miracle she's even alive now, if Crowley hadn't stopped them when he did…"
I hear a sob and realize that Heather's started to cry.
"Don't cry," Danny whispers. "She's alive."
"Crowley's dead though," Heather chokes out.
There's a long pause, a very long pause.
"You're right, they murdered him. He was one of the brightest men we had on the team, dedicated whole-heartedly to fighting the dark and he was the only one who…"
Another long pause and suddenly it strikes me that they're talking about Tiffany's dad. I remember that he worked for the Ministry before he was murdered at the Ministry ball last weekend. I lean closer to the door and James, straining to hear the rest, but whatever Danny was mumbling remained a mystery to me.
"Heather, I think someone knows," Danny confesses suddenly.
"Of course, James and his girlfriend found out and I wouldn't be surprised if they've already told Sirius and Gracie."
I AM NOT HIS GIRLFRIEND! Why do they keep thinking that we're an item or something? So what if they found us in the kitchen together in the middle of the night? Lots of people go down to the kitchen in the middle of the night together, loads; it's perfectly normal. It means nothing, nada, zip, zero, zilch.
"I think someone on the inside, Heather, someone who knew that Crowley was involved and Sammy Thomas…"
"No," Heather gasps. "You don't think they were killed because of their involvement, do you? But Marlene McKinnon…she had nothing to do with it!"
"I'm not saying all of them, Heather, but isn't it strange that Sammy and Crowley were picked out?"
Heather's silent for a long time before her husband finally breaks the silence.
"She can't stay here, Heather. If there is someone on the inside who knew about Crowley and Thomas, it will only be a matter of time before they follow the trail back here." Danny takes a breath before adding, "Besides, they're destroying what's left of her mind with these tests. They're not making any progress. Whatever it was that the Death Eaters did to her no one seems to be able to break it."
"They might be able to…" Heather starts weakly, but Danny cuts her off.
"I think we should wait like Crowley suggested, her memory might return with due time." He pauses and then suggests, "And it might help if we send her away for a bit."
"NOT ST. MUNGO'S!" Heather screams.
"No, no, ssshhhh…" Danny seems to be calming his wife. "No, not St. Mungo's. I don't think she can take much more of that place. I was thinking of somewhere else, somewhere safer…"
"What could be safer than her own home?" Heather asks.
"Hogwarts."
I steal a look at James. The shocked expression on his face probably mirrors my own. They can't be serious. I lean against the wall, listening to Heather's responding gasp. She's just as stunned as we are. James tiptoes closer to the door, tugging on my hand. He nods toward the crack between the swinging door and the adjoining wall. I crouch a little, putting my eye to the crack. James does the same, his chin just skimming the top of my hair.
Inside I can see Danny holding an obviously shaken Heather in his arms.
"Are you mad?" Heather pulls free from his arms, stepping back.
"Think about it, Heather; she'd be under Dumbledore's watch, she'd be kept occupied and she does remember vaguely attending Hogwarts. Maybe it'll trigger some other memories…"
Heather turns her back on him, thinking it over.
"No, Danny, it won't work," she says finally, shaking her head.
"Give me one reason why it wouldn't work." He places a firm hand on her shoulder, spinning her around.
"Gracie," Heather replies.
Danny falters, he hadn't been thinking of this. Heather seems to have won this argument. How would Gracie react to this girl, who's allegedly her dead mother in teenage form? I think she'd go off the deep end. It would have been like the confrontation with James, except Gracie would probably blow her up before she even has the chance to talk. Yeah, I don't see mother/daughter bonding in the future, the family reunion is probably not a good idea.
Suddenly, Danny snaps his fingers.
"We'll disguise her."
Heather snorts and folds her arms over her chest.
"And I suppose we'll brainwash her as well, because somehow I don't see how my forty-one-year-old sister who's memory's been practically destroyed, is going to deal with classes and new faces and changes on top of all the side effects of the curse they used on her."
Again Danny is silenced by his quick-thinking wife.
"She does remember some things…mostly of her childhood, but at least she's acting like she's sixteen. That part of the therapy worked…"
"Still, Danny, you saw how quick she blew her cover to James and his girlfriend."
"Classmate," I correct her very quietly. James sniggers and I swear Danny looked briefly in the direction of the door.
"She remembers that she lived here at one point and that Gracie, Sirius, James and his girlfriend-"
"Classmate," I hiss. Once again James sniggers and Danny's eyes seem to mysteriously find their way back to our hiding place for a split second.
"-shouldn't be here. She keeps looking for Mark and Harry and having these break downs, because she's confused and lost and only has half her memory-"
"We don't know that for sure," Danny interrupts, but Heather keeps going.
"At least here we can keep a close eye on her - but sending her to Hogwarts…that might be a mistake," she finishes, looking at her husband seriously.
Danny sits thoughtfully in silence. Heather sits down on one of the chairs, watching and waiting for his response. I can hear James breathing beside me, and my own heavy breathing seems to come at a noisy pant. James must think I'm a rabid animal. I inhale, hold it, and let it out slow and quiet. And repeat, nice and slow, gentle and quiet. But it does no good. My breathing increases, because suddenly I'm aware of how close we are to each other. My leg tingles, obviously falling asleep, so I shift my weight to the opposite side, closer to James. Shoot! Hopefully he doesn't notice-please, please don't notice. Merlin only knows what the boy might think.
"So, what we need is another pair of eyes." Danny's voice floats through the forgotten kitchen.
Oh, damn! James is looking at me. James sees me looking at him, shit.
"Lily?" he breathes.
I can't even muster the power to respond, my throats dry, very dry, and even as I lick my lips my voice won't come.
"I think-" He stops, his eyes on my lips. "I think," he starts again, "that maybe, we should leave, before we're cau-" He falters as if forgetting the word entirely that should've ended his sentence. Inside the kitchen Danny and Heather continue to speak but James and I seem to be having a silent conversation without words or sounds.
"I have a solution to that problem."
"Oh you do, do you?"
"Yes."
James is still staring at my lips. Wow, I never noticed his eyelashes. When we're this close they're actually rather long and dark, almost in that handsome-sexy-dark-mysterious-stranger kind of way. You know, the guy every girl fantasizes about. The glasses seem to magnify the look, making him look even better.
Oh my god.
He's leaning closer to me.
Is he… He is! His hand's creeping up, he's getting too close, WAY too close. I can't move. I don't want to move…
Shut your eyes.
Step away from him.
Close your eyes!
Run, run, RUN!
I - I - I -
DO SOMETHING!
SMACK!
Something hits me hard, and I fly backwards. Suddenly sprawled on the floor, I look up through watering eyes at Danny. A smile seems to be teasing the corners of his mouth, and his eyes sparkle momentarily with a boyish mischief. He must've hit us with the door when he pushed it open. Damn door.
Beside me James sits up with a groan. A tiny spot of crimson stains the temple of his handsome face.
"You're bleeding," I point out the obvious.
Without thinking, I touch the cut and wipe the miniscule amount of blood carefully with the end of my sleeve.
"Thanks," James whispers, smiling.
I blush.
Danny coughs meaningfully from the doorway. I forgot he was even there. I blush again, as an embarrassed James helps me to my feet. Danny folds his arms over his chest, staring us down with what should have been a stern glare if it hadn't been for the boyish light still dancing in his bespectacled eyes.
"James, what did I tell you about eavesdropping?" he asks, glaring.
"Don't do it," James responds, but he adds quietly, "if you're going to be caught."
Danny winks at his son, holding the door open for us.
James hesitates, sending his father a quizzical glance.
"James, you must know your old man better by now. If I hadn't wanted you to over hear that, I would've put a silencing charm up."
"But- you mean-" James looks thoroughly confused as we walk into the now empty kitchen.
"Yes, I wanted you to hear that," he elaborates, ushering us into two seats.
"But why?" I blurt out, wondering if the man's lost his marbles.
"I thought you were listening." Danny smirks.
"We were…" James trails off. I steal a look at him and I swear he blushes. I turn away to hide my own flushed cheeks from his father's knowing eyes.
Nothing happened, I don't know why I'm blushing. I just got a bit distracted, that's all. He was standing way to close to me and I was planning on giving him a piece of my mind, getting ready to show him the strength of my hand.
What?
Honestly, I was!
Danny chuckles, muttering something about "young love." Let him think what he wants, see what I care. I know the truth. Potter's love is unrequited. I'm only blushing because I'm embarrassed that his dad would even think of such a thing. It has nothing to do with the fact that my hormones might have gotten the best of me for just a millisecond - all right maybe a second or two… Potter's a jerk, but I can't deny that he's a very attractive member of the opposite sex. Urgh. What am I saying? Why am I even entertaining these thoughts? Potter's a jerk, nothing less, nothing more.
Still, he's an attractive jerk. A very attractive jerk.
Don't even think about it.
I'm not!
"As I was saying before, we want to send Hope to Hogwarts."
James and I nod, having heard this absurd idea only a few minutes before.
"She'll be safer there; she'll have to take on a new identity and a disguise as well, but we think it's for the best." He goes on about the precautions he'll have to take. My mind keeps wandering though back to the boy sitting next to me. I discreetly glance in his direction, to look at the window obviously, and just happen to notice that he's in some sort of shock.
I don't blame him.
If my aunt came back from the dead, I think I'd have checked myself into St. Mungo's by now.
I grab his hand, purely for comforting and reviving purposes, and give it a squeeze. James looks over at me with the tiniest of smiles and then turns back to his father with renewed undivided attention.
"-that's where you two will come in," Danny finishes, and I realize with another stab of embarrassment that I didn't hear a word he was saying. Danny sighs, realizing that either neither of us were actually listening to him or that we have the intelligence level equivalent to that of a full-grown flobber worm.
"You're going to watch over Hope at Hogwarts. You're going to be her personal guides, the sole students that will know her true identity and what is at stake if it happens to leak out," he repeats slowly.
"Do you understand?" he asks, lowering his face so that he can look both of us in the eye.
No. But I nod anyway.
"Good, get to bed." Danny gets up, stretching out his arms with a yawn.
But James and I stay seated. Danny looks at us expectantly and then frowns.
"Um, what exactly is at stake?" James asks timidly.
Danny blinks, but his expression quickly turns from incredibility to severity.
"Our lives," he answers gravely, before sweeping out of the room, leaving both of us in a stunned silence.
I sit in the silence, letting it all sink in slowly.
Hope's alive.
Well, sort of.
And she's coming to Hogwarts, with me and James and… Gracie. A secret's been told to me, one that could destroy many lives, and the one person I'm not allowed to tell, above all others, is my best friend, who happens to be Hope's daughter.
I'm still in shock and so is James.
"James."
James is back in his own little world, or maybe he's just ignoring me. I exaggerate a yawn, nudge him with my shoulder, unintentionally of course, and tell him I'm going to bed. James ignores me.
I stand up and get all the way to the door before I change my mind. I retrace my steps, taking his hand and gently tugging on it. He looks up at me and wordlessly gets to his feet. He towers over me, and for an instant I wonder what it would feel like if I suddenly pulled him to me and kissed him. What if I had followed through with that moment outside the kitchen? This thought obviously doesn't linger long, I mean honestly, it's big-headed Potter but sometimes I wonder if he has a split personality and if it would be possible to separate the two…
"It's New Year's Day, did you know that?" he asks suddenly.
I shake my head because I lost track of the days long ago. It seems like years ago when we left the station with a grumbling Tiffany who still had a father.
"It doesn't feel like it," I whisper, remembering the lousy Christmas I spent playing chess with James and Sirius and the funeral, which obviously put a damper on things.
"No, it doesn't," James agrees, distantly.
I watch as his face takes on a look of nostalgia, his eyes suddenly far away.
"My aunt used to throw a big bash on New Year's Eve. She said that the last and first day of the year were to be celebrated because you had a chance to recall all the good times of the previous year and start off the new year right," he reminiscences with a smile.
"One year she convinced our parents to portkey us all to Times Square."
"You went to Times Square?" I ask. Times Square was someplace in America, New York, I think. Supposedly they have this huge Muggle rally where everyone stands around and watches a ball blow up or something.
"No," James chuckles. "My aunt forgot about the millions of Muggles that were going to be there. She then decided that she was going to take us to some American magical settlement, Salem. When we got there though, there seemed to be some mistake. They laughed at us when she said she was looking for the Witching Hour and told us that Halloween was two months ago, but they were more than happy to redirect us to the Witch's Museum…"
James and I laugh realizing where he's headed with this. Salem, Massachusetts is famous for being one of the oldest magical establishments in the States and infamous for their ridiculous Muggles. The laughter dies quickly though, as the gravity of the situation weighs down upon us once more.
Someone that was dead yesterday is now alive today and neither one of us have any idea how it happened or how to handle it.
"What the bloody hell am I supposed to do?" James shakes his head, running a frustrated hand through his untidy hair.
I step toward him, closing the space between us. I ponder his gorgeous eyes, thinking of how easy it would be to take off his glasses and place them on the kitchen table. My eyes move to his lips, but I carefully redirect my gaze, knowing that when we're back at school he won't be the same. He won't give a damn about me.
Even so, I'm driven by some unexplainable instinct. Perhaps it's maternal, or maybe it's just hormones. I hug him. His chin moves to the top of my head, his hands finding my back and then sliding down to my waist. I close my eyes and let it linger.
"We'll figure something out," I assure him.
"I know," he sighs, stroking my hair. "Thank you."
And then he lets go.
I step back and stare at him. I'm always amazed at how different James looks each time I take a good look at him. He seems to be growing up, and yet I keep holding onto that childish image of the pervert who'd stare and feel me up beneath the desk; the boy that was so full of himself that I used to believe that he really wouldn't fit through the door, the boy that asked me out a hundred times, the boy who's still secretly present and will reappear once we get to Hogwarts, the boy that I can't forget.
"Come on, let's get some rest," I whisper, touching his arm.
"Yeah." He nods with a forced smile.
We head upstairs, only stopping at the top of the staircase where we go our separate ways.
"Well… Goodnight," I say awkwardly.
"Goodnight," James echoes softly.
We stay where we are, locked in place as if by some invisible force.
"Shoot," James mutters.
"What?" I ask alarmed.
"We can't move."
I realize he's right. No matter where I step, I can't go anywhere. There's literally an invisible wall boxing me in. I suppress the wave of panic that rises in my chest, especially when I notice that the only way I can go, James is blocking.
"James, please step aside."
"I can't, Lily," he says with an exasperated sigh.
"Why not?" I ask through gritted teeth, my hands clenching at my sides.
"Because… Can't you see it?" James asks, looking at me as if I'm an idiot. "We've stepped into an Imobilia Charm," he explains.
"I understand that, but what is it doing here?" I ask suspiciously.
"Sirius and I…"
I knew it. He's so guilty of the stupid trap. It's probably another one of his pranks that he forgot about. Ha! Serves him right, at least it'll backfire on him as well. What a pity, though, that I had to be another poor victim of one of his many thoughtless jokes. These Marauders, they'll never grow up!
"I didn't think it worked, but apparently…" James trails off with a nervous laugh, his eyes refusing to meet my steady glare.
"Just get us out of here," I say, swallowing the urge to scold him. It won't do us any good here. We might wake Gracie, Sirius or Merlin forbid, his parents again. I can only imagine how James and I might explain ourselves.
"It's tricky, you see there's this catch…" Again the nervous laugh, and the eyes moving to look at anything but me.
"James, just do it!" I blurt.
"Are you sure?" James asks hesitantly, looking at me for the first time.
"Hurry up!" I moan, knowing that the longer we stay out here, the more chance we have of getting caught in this embarrassing position.
"All right, but you have to promise not to get mad…" James places his hands on my shoulders, lowering his face to my level.
"James, will you just-!" I stop abruptly, realizing that he's leaning swiftly toward me, zeroing in on my lips. His right hand's moved from my shoulder, cupping my face with experienced fingers, a practiced, barely evident, caress on my cheek.
"Don't move," he whispers.
As if I could move.
I can barely breathe.
"James…" I protest automatically, but the name falls weak and faint from my lips. I lick my lips, and try again to form the words that will push him away.
But whatever it is that I want to say, I immediately forget. James closes the distance between us, his lips silencing me, driving everything and anything out of my head. My eyes instinctively flutter shut and tentatively I return the kiss. His hand wanders from my cheek, tangling itself in my hair. At the feel of his fingers brushing nape of my neck, a pleasant shiver runs the length of my spine, and I shudder against his chest.
"Lily," James groans and releases me suddenly.
I sway on my feet, and stagger clumsily backwards into the opposite wall. Only then do I open my eyes and look up at him in shock. He watches me, a silent struggle going on in the twitch of his mouth and the hesitant step he takes in my direction.
Slowly I lift a trembling hand to my lips.
"You kissed me," I realize.
I lean against the wall, still dazed from the kiss.
My first kiss.
"Look Lily, I'm-" James steps toward me, but suddenly a tinkling sound and a sparkle near James's ear catches our attention and stops him in his tracks. I watch as with a flurry of sparks, something attached to the ceiling crumbles and flutters to the floor between us. The plant shrivels and dies, blackening and burning with the last of the sparks. James steps on it, distinguishing the small fire with a quick stamp of his slipper. I inhale sharply.
Mistletoe.
He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at the floor.
"I'm - I'm sorry," he apologizes with a slight stammer. "Look, Lily I-"
He reaches for me, jarring me out of whatever mysterious trance I've fallen into. I slip out of his grasp and run.
I don't stop until I reach my room with the door safely shut behind me. Breathing heavily, I lean against it, closing my eyes, a trembling hand returning again and again to my sensitive lips.
He kissed me.
James Potter kissed me.
And I…I think I actually…liked it…
What the bloody hell is the matter with me?
I groan, silently slamming my head against the door repeatedly. Somebody check me into St. Mungo's Insanity Ward. There has to be something wrong with my head. Please, help me! I'm losing my mind!
I slide down to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest.
This isn't supposed to happen to me.
I'm not supposed like it when he kisses me.
I hate him.
Remember?
He's almost always a jerk, a handsome heartbreaker, an attractive pervert who happens to be currently obsessed with me…
What's happening to me?
What's wrong with me?
I bury my face into my hands and shut my eyes tight.
"I hate him."
A/N: Thanks to everyone that reviewed! So I hope you're all happy since this is a quick update, a fairly long chapter, and Lily and James FINALLY have their kiss. Please review!
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