All Of Me | A Jily Love Story

Chapter Twenty Seven: Unexpected Turn Of Events

- LILY -

November came and went, leaving the cold with December as it dispersed.
Life was about as wonderful as I could have possibly imagined, and I was clutching onto this with all of my strength; I had a daunting feeling that it wasn't going to last long.
Slughorn had recently approached me one cold morning on my way to class, asking desperately if it were at all possible to still attend his traditional Christmas Eve party. I really had forgotten about all about the famous 'Slugclub' do, which was coincidentally on the same night the ball was to be held. And even though I'd wished I didn't have to attend the party at all, I used my Lily Evans charm to persuade him into changing the date to the night before Christmas Eve; assuring him it would be just as spectacular.
Marlene and Sirius steadily became more smitten. Their relationship consisted of 'Playful teasing, genuine conversation and hot sex in cramped broom cupboards.' Marlene's words, not mine.
Speak of the devil, I'd felt a guilt so deep that my tummy ached when Sirius's birthday arrived and ended on the third of November, without seeing his face all twelve hours of the day. I'd assumed that any opportunity to drink was an opportunity taken, but felt my heart crush into shards when he hauled himself up to the boys dormitory without so much as a hello. I'd had to bully him into letting me give him a hug the next day, let alone my profuse string of apologies for not knowing it was his eighteenth birthday.
"He never celebrates. Bad childhood memories."
James had told me. That only made me feel worse.
Instead, we reflected on his seventeenth birthday; and how James and Peter had (barely) convinced Remus to join them and climb on top of the Gryffindor table, proceeding to sing every single word of 'Dancing queen' by ABBA to the birthday boy. Apparently, it had been the worst day of Remus's life, and the last time he's ever letting James manipulate him into doing something. And apparently, it was the best day of James's life - because Sirius had simply burst into tears, cry for the first time in years.
Peter had been hanging out with us more often, but as much as we loved him, I couldn't help the little nameless, nudging caution that poked at me at the back of my mind. Despite this, Pete only added to our fun. He claimed his Mother's small pox had been exceedingly lethal, almost killing her, but she'd been cleared of it last week. I can speak for all of us when I say it was a weight lifted off of my shoulders; the last thing we needed was to have someone in this group lose a family member.
We were two months into the school year. As much as we tried to stay happy, joking about things that didn't matter and sneaking into the kitchens at night - the world outside was only worsening everyday. Since Hogsmeade trips were now put on a hold, me and James did the best we could to distract everyone with events - such as parties in the common room, silly Quidditch competitions for prizes that make the third years squeal, and surveys for the Christmas ball menu.
Things were busy, leaving all but no time to dwell over ridiculous problems that wore glasses and had excruciatingly messy black hair.

...

"What about the Hobgoblins?" Alice was suggesting one charms period, twirling her wand in circular motions to curl a strand of her golden blonde hair. "I mean, they're new, but -"
"The Hobgoblins?" Mary repeated tonelessly, arching a single eyebrow. "Alice, that's probably the worst thing you've ever said."
"Oh come on Mar," Marlene tutted, digging a hand in the front pocket of her bag. "They're not that bad. And, well... if they can't find anyone else - "
"You are not hiring the Hobgoblins to perform at the Ball." Mary interrupted flatly, giving me a sharp look. "I don't care if it's all the budget can afford and no one else writes back - I'd prefer Sirius to sing all of the AC/DC records to exist than to hear their whining."
"Marlene, they are that bad." I interjected, causing her to grimace and give a shrug of defeat. "And Alice, that is the worst idea you've ever had. Of course I'm not going to hire the Hobgoblins - who do you think I am? I heard that Stubby Boardman is a child molester."
"You're not wrong." She sighed, slumping her cheek into her palm rather glumly.
"A child molester?" Marlene repeated, arching a single eyebrow. "Let's not go all Michael Jackson on Stubbs, he seems like a softie. Reminds me of Remus."
"A softie what now?" Remus cut in, poking his head in between Marlene and Mary. "I'll inform you that I once stared Mary MacDonald in the eye as she yelled at me, and even told her 'No'. Have I swayed your opinion?"
"That was 3 years ago, Remus -"
"And who says Jackson really is a molester?"
Two black booted feet appeared in front of me, kicking back onto my desk top. I jumped about a foot in the air, turning in my chair irritably to see Sirius twirling a cigarette between his lips, a cheeky glint in his eye.
"I mean, the lads been framed. No one could make such good music as him and be a wanker, it's just not how it works."
"Music is a complicated art."
I turned to see James magically appear at Alice's shoulder, causing her to start in shock and clutch a hand to her neck. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the three of them all popping up when we least expected them to. James rolled up his shirt sleeves and gave me a crooked grin, perching on the very edge of her desk. "You'd be surprised; most successful artists are either drug addicts, alcoholics, wife beaters, or mentally ill."
"Where did you all come from?" Ali gazed at the three of them in wonder.
"This is true." Mary agreed, folding her arms.
"What about Elton?" Alice frowned.
"He just about ticked each of those categories," Remus snorted. "Elton is damaged; damaged people create good music - it's logic."
"ABBA isn't damaged," Marlene cut in, slamming her fist against her desk firmly. "They're bright, they're bubbly, and they wear yellow flairs. ABBA create good music from good experiences, and -"
"You mean all of those toxic relationships where their spouses cheated on them?" James asked mildly, folding his arms into his chest rather smugly. "Mmmm, s'what I thought Mckinnon."
"Never thought I'd say it, but you're all right." Sirius admitted, rolling his head back to face the ceiling as he exhaled a deep cloud of smoke. "I accept that I was wrong. Good music never comes from happy people with any joyful experiences. We're all depressed."
"You are the most arrogant man I've ever had the unpleasantry of knowing." Marlene commented, watching him with fascinated eyes.
"Why, yes beautiful girlfriend, I would love to make out with you for hours in the broom cupboard on fourth floor." He replied smoothly, slowly rolling his head back up to flash her a lazy grin. Mary fake retched into her elbow, causing Alice to laugh loudly.
"Whilst you mentally undress eachother -" I rolled my eyes, pushing my chair across the wooden floorboards and stretching to my feet. "- I'll be with Flitwick."
"Just because God cursed you with ginger hair!" Sirius called after me as I turned my back.
"Sod off, Black!"
"Miss. Evans!" Flitwick greeted me cheerfully as I approached his front desk, where he was currently turning one of his quils a bright royal blue. "Do forgive me, I find performing simple spells gives me a visual escape during lessons of high comprehensive material." He beamed up at me, clasping his hands. "How may I help you?"
"Nothing to forgive, sir." I smiled at him widely, appreciating his rainbow assortment of peacock quils rather fondly. "I did have a brief question about the incantations we're studying."
"Of course you did." His smile widened, curving up his cheeks and meeting his astoundingly blue eyes. "Fire away, Evans."
I grinned a little sheepishly, and brushed a free strand of hair behind my ear.
"Well, when we structure our essay, are we covering three separate spells for each paragraph? Or do we articulate how one particular category of spells branches out into three different directions, for more depth?"
"Ah," He began lightly, leaning back in his chair. "If you were to cover three separate spells, it would be easier to differentiate the purposes and outlines, no? That, my dear, is NEWTS level two; Sixth year work. But you already knew that." His eyes twinkled.
"It was worth a shot." I grinned, feeling my heart sink slightly. "Depth it is. Thank you, sir."
"Not at all," He drummed his fingers against his desk top, a small crease etching itself between his brows. "I see your chaps over there are having quite the conversation."
I arched an eyebrow at him, turning on my heel to face the cluster of desks at the front of the classroom. James and Remus were now on their feet, pointing at something invisible as their mouths moved at rapid speed. Sirius's arms were held up in surrender as he rolled his eyes, twirling the same cigarette between his lips. At this point, Alice was hiding behind her hand and shaking her head, both Mar and Marlene staring at Sirius with outright affronted expressions.
"Ah," I grimaced, turning back to face an amused Flitwick. "We're discussing wizarding bands...James and I haven't managed to find anyone willing for the Christmas Ball gig. Sirius must have offered a very, er, uncommon suggestion."
"I see," Flitwick chuckled. "I have to say, I praise him for his boldness. Music is a broad and beautiful thing - do you have a favourite band, Miss. Evans?"
"Well - none that are Wizarding," I explained, biting down on my lip in concentration. "Oh Merlin, that is a very difficult question sir...I'm going to have to say ABBA. Oh, oh or Fleetwood Mac!"
"Ah, Fleetwood Mac..." Flitwick nodded, letting his eyes flutter close. "I have to agree. I am quite fond of Muggle music these days, you'd be surprised I think."
"Really?" I asked, a wide smile tugging up my cheeks. "What else do you love, sir?"
"Hmm...Crowded House, Lionel Richie...oh, and Queen!" I barely managed to stifle my snort, trying to imagine Flitwick raging to 'fat bottomed girls' or 'rock you.' "- I have to say, their vocals are astounding. Just last summer, I heard Freddie's voice - it nearly took my breath away."
"You - sir, you went to a Queen concert?" I asked in surprise, scanning his face. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend, I -"
"Minerva had the same reaction." He chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "I don't blame you, Miss. Evans. It wasn't so much a concert as it was...a pop up show. Did you know that Freddie Mercury's Mother was a witch?"
I abruptly choked and was forced to cough into my elbow, staring at Flitwick in shock over the crook of my arm as he chuckled merrily.
"I don't understand -?" I spluttered, straightening up. "What? Mercury's a wizard?"
"Not quite." Flitwick replied, cocking his head.
My jaw dropped and I felt my eyes widen generously. "He inherited his Father's non magic blood."
"What, so he's a squib?" I asked incredulously, my eyebrows raising impossibly high. "Freddie Mercury - is a squib? You're kidding, sir?"
Flitwick let out a tinkling laugh, however nodded in answer.
"The very same. Queen is actually well known for performing in Wizarding pubs around Britain, particularly London. Enlarged to fit a stage and tumultuous crowds, of course - they managed to clear a law with the minister of magic to allow it, some sort of bill, or - or permit." He shrugged. "As Mercury is a squib and their music is that rather exceptionally marvellous, they let slip a loophole."
I stared at him blankly, struggling to come to terms with the information he was offloading. "They know about us...and they're allowed to perform? In wizarding pubs? No disrespect sir, but are you certain you've got that correct?"
Flitwick only laughed, a hearty, bell chime sound. "As I said...a rather strange loophole." He winked. "I am certain dear, I went to a gig of theirs last summer as I mentioned previously. A small pub in Wales. Mercury's father was a very well known wizard for his heroic music, I see it as a genetic transfer of talent."
"I..." I shook my head, utterly nonplussed. "Wow! That...that's absolutely incredible, I -" I ran a hand through my hair, a million thoughts spiralling through my mind. "Sir, you've just given me the grandest prospect -" My eyes darted up to meet his excitedly. "Could I potentially reach out to Mercury and ask for them to perform a gig here, for the Christmas ball? Would that be at all possible?"
"Why! Yes, I'm sure you could!" He replied with as much enthusiasm as me, his bright blue eyes widening. "How spectacular would that be - why, that must be looked into - "
"I'll speak to Dumbledore." I grinned, practically bouncing on the balls of my feet. "In fact, I'll go this instant -"
The ringing bell abruptly sounded through the classroom walls, cutting me off short.
"Goodluck, Miss. Evans!" Flitwick called after me as I snatched my satchel from my desk, hurrying out of the room before Marlene could yell out my name. My feet were soaring for Dumbledore's office without a second thought.
Still attempting to comprehend the fact that Freddie Mercury was a squib and frothing over the potential gig, I proceeded to run Dumbledore through my plans, a little too eagerly on my part. To my greatest pleasure and surprise, he had agreed with a warm, if not amused, smile.
With him having no objection, I instantly payed the owlery a visit and wrote directly to Freddie Mercury himself. I wasn't sure if he would receive it personally, and I wasn't sure if there were someone else I should have sent an owl to, but I was hoping that he would be used to it by now.
It included my admiration, greatest respect, best wishes, and hope that they would accept the offer. In fact, it was probably more like fan mail opposed to a formal letter of inquiry, but I was practically besides myself. The biggest band in the world, next to the Beatles of course, was currently working their way around the United Kingdom to perform for witches and wizards alike. A famous Muggle band, with Freddie Sodding Mercury - who was a blimming squib.
Practically leaping with elation, It was only when I returned to the common room and saw James (who was lying upside down on the couch, reading a thick volume with his tongue poking out lazily) that I realised I hadn't even cleared it with him before going ahead.
"Hey, Lil." He glanced up at me, that crooked smile of his turning up the corners of both cheeks.
"Hi!" I exclaimed breathlessly, clutching at a cramp in my lower abdomen.
"Where've you been?" He yawned, pulling himself up into a sitting position. "And - are you panting?" He asked amusedly, closing the thick volume and placing it besides him on the red plush cushions.
"I ran," I waved a dismissive hand, collapsing into my armchair. "I...long story. Sorry for taking off like that, but you lot were getting into a musical war, which lead me and Flitwick to the topic of Wizarding bands - and oh, James you are not going to believe -"
"Woah, woah, woah." James chuckled, stretching up to his feet with both hands held up above his head. "Slow down - I heard the words 'long story' and the rest is gibberish."
I threw my head back and laughed, letting my head roll onto the the back of my chair.
"Queen! The rock band, Queen! Freddie Mercury, he's - he's a Merlin sworn squib, James!" I let out a loud squeal of mirth, gazing up at the ceiling in awe. "Could you imagine? I mean, what do you even say to Freddie Mercury? Dear Mr. Mercury? It's almost as if he's a royal -"
"You're pulling my leg." James cut in indignantly, pulling back to scan my face. "Flitwick said this?"
"Cross my heart." I replied breathlessly, shaking my head. "Cross my heart and hope to die, Freddie Mercury is a fucking squib."
"No?" He gasped, grasping onto the arm of the couch and hauling himself forward into the cushions. "A squib? Truly? From - what, who were his parents?"
"That's what I said!" I exclaimed a little hysterically, clutching fists of thin air. "Flitwick was telling me! We were talking about Wizarding bands for the ball, and he suggested -"
"Surely that wouldn't be permitted, though?" James asked seriously, a frown etching between his eyebrows. "Queen, performing live for a few hundred witches and wizards? I hate to break it to you darling, but -"
"Flitwick told me himself that he went to one of their gigs in Wales last summer!" I interrupted earnestly, scanning his skeptical expression. "James, they go around London performing in pubs! Local, Wizarding pubs!"
"Isn't that...illegal?" He asked, seemingly perplexed. "Not that I care about the law, but - " He hesitated, a small grimace tugging at his cheeks. "You're better than that, Lil. I don't think that would do well with your conscience, and even if Albus lets it slide under his nose out of the goodness of his swell heart -"
"There's a Merlin's damned law!" I interjected in a slightly strangled voice, throwing my hands up into the air. "The Minister declared a bill that permits them to perform in pubs for certified events."
"But...who-"
"Apparently Mercury's father was well respected in the wizarding world," I continued breathlessly. "A musician, or, or a performer of sorts I think Flitwick said. Freddie requested a permit and the Minister declared one! It's...a loophole, a physical bill...- I mean he has magical blood but no actual magic, it makes complete logical sense when -"
"I cannot Imagine the Minister listening to Queen." James cut in flatly, letting out an amused snort. "Let alone Flitwick, I - blimey, a permit? How can that be?"
"A permit." I almost whispered, shaking my head. "A Merlin's damned permit."
"Well we need to run it past Albus, right?" He asked suddenly, straightening up. "If there's any slim possibility of them accepting the invitation, I -"
"Er," I grimaced, cringing into my chair. "I might have already seen Dumbledore. And written a letter to Freddie Mercury." I added, biting down on my lip and scanning his face of surprise. "I'm sorry! I was too excited!"
"So that's why you sprinted out of charms like you'd been offered a million pounds of gold." He grinned at me crookedly, flopping backwards over the arm of the couch.
"I'm sorry," I repeated guiltily as his head hit the cushions. "I didn't think to wait for you, I was practically fizzing."
"Don't be," James's grin widened, dimpling his left cheek. "I know how much you love them. Plus, wouldn't want to prevent you from wetting your pants in excitement."
"Shut up." I laughed, letting my eyes flutter close. "Freddie Mercury...here, at Hogwarts. That's if they ever write back, I suppose...Merlin, what if my letter was too informal? Do you think they only expect ministry certified letters of request?"
"I don't see why they wouldn't, If it had the Hogwarts seal." James replied mildly, shrugging.
"I s'pose..." I hesitated, wincing. "They might be put off. I was rather forward."
"Maybe I should have written it." James snorted.
"Maybe." I opened my eyes, letting them meet his gaze rather hesitantly as he gave me a look.
I hadn't thought of my Patronus, nor the fact that it was the gender opposite of James's, since our patrol last week. It had been shoved into the very depths of forgotten memories in my mind.
I hadn't wanted to think about it, and frankly, I couldn't think about it. The idea was too preposterous - too ridiculous, too inconceivable. SoI lied blatantly to his face about it, what else had there been to do?
I knew that the soulmate bind had been well known amongst society for millenniums - not as a myth, but more so a clinical trial. I'd read that book, anyone who had an ounce of magical blood had heard the story.
As I looked into those smiling brown eyes, I let myself think of the moment my doe had approached James. I thought of the way she'd looked at him for so long, holding his gaze with such gentle ferocity it was almost beautiful.
As if she'd put him underneath some sort of spell, if I could bear the thought. Something had happened in that room; I didn't understand it, and I didn't want to, but I'd felt it rattle my very bones. Perhaps it all meant that he was in the cards to be my long time best friend, someone who would always be apart of my life. Yes; that was reasonable. Bearable, even logical.
A deep sigh escaped my lips as we began the overload of incessant homework the week held for us.
Time would only tell.