Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

11 April, 1978 - Fallout

Even so, there was still some weight to the idea that if she started being overtly friendly with the Marauders those few friends who hadn't totally forsaken her would walk away. That might be a breach they couldn't forgive. Afterall, it was a minor miracle they hadn't completely left her to rot already. She didn't want to push it.

On the other side of her life, Lavinia couldn't help but wonder if she was slightly freaking the Marauders out. She suspected they were a bit thrown off by her relatively easy acceptance of her friends' behavior. From her end, she was pleasantly surprised that more than one of them had bothered to even speak to her after the news had gotten out. She'd expected radio silence, like a curtain falling over an unfinished play. She'd expected everything to be over, just like that. And it hadn't been. Which, as backwards as it seemed, made her almost happy.

So she'd hoped the Marauders would understand. She'd hoped she wouldn't have to bring it up with them, hoped they would simply accept her decision to forgive and try to forget. But it became clear a week or so after the end of break that this was not the case.

They were in the Room of Requirement, as was custom, and James was lamenting the loss of some map that he seemed somewhat unhealthily attached to in Lavinia's opinion. Maps didn't seem like they warranted a ten minute rant about how ridiculous and obnoxious Filch, the caretaker, was. But, not wanting to interrupt or seem insensitive, Lavinia simply listened, growing increasingly worried about James's concern over a single piece of paper.

Eventually James seemed to run out of steam and Sirius jumped on the opportunity, starting a new conversation before his best friend had the chance to get going again. Everyone in the room made an attempt to hide their relief, with varying degrees of success. Lavinia suspected this was not the only rant James had given, judging by how utterly bored with it the other boys seemed to be.

"How are you doing, Vin?" Sirius asked, with the air of someone desperate to change the subject.

Lavinia snorted slightly. They asked this every night and every night her answer was nearly identical to the last. "I'm doing fine," she informed him patiently. "Just like the last seven times you've asked."

Sirius gave a teasing, helpless shrug and quirked a half smile in her direction.

"I don't understand how you're so okay with it," Remus muttered, shaking his head.

Lavinia sighed, knowing they had to ask that at some point. "I've had three months to prepare myself," she explained with a shrug. Then, after a pause. "It is really weird," she admitted, the first time she'd told them anything of her inner feelings on the matter. "To see my friends doing things and not be able to join them."

"Some friends," James muttered almost resentfully.

Lavinia closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself and biting back the habitual burst of anger at an attack on the people she cared about. Once she was convinced she wouldn't snap at him, she turned to meet his gaze, a forced smile on her face. "And what exactly do you mean by that?" she asked with the tone of a person giving someone the chance to backtrack.

But James was, predictably, oblivious and ploughed on. "I just think that if they'd really been your friends, they would have fought a little harder," he said, shrugging and sounding as though he was rather indignant on Lavinia's behalf.

Next to her on the couch Lavinia saw Sirius sigh and drop his head slightly as though he'd seen this coming and knew what Lavinia's response was going to be. At least he'd had the sense not to push it. Not that she was mad at James, not really. He was protective, which she could understand. But he was also occasionally obtuse.

"They were really my friends, James," Lavinia returned with forced calm. "They were given a difficult choice and very little time to make it in."

"And they chose their pureblood prejudices over you," he continued, scoffing slightly. "Doesn't seem like it should have been a difficult choice." And, she supposed, for him, it wouldn't have been. Because James was loyal and brave and had little concept of the kind of controlling fear that could be instilled by abusive family relationships.