Something did shift for Lillie, that day in the forest. Her pain is still there, strong and pressing inside her. But with Fred's care, it gradually becomes more manageable. Realizing and accepting her feelings for Fred has given Lillie something to focus on other than the gnawing in her stomach, and Charlie makes his way into the periphery of her thoughts, only emerging when prompted. Lillie is reverting to her old self in surprising ways; she suddenly felt bashful and girlish around Fred, laughing constantly at his wit and antics.
Her time in New Mexico was always so serious, so full of introspection and contemplation and 'finding herself', that it wasn't until she came back to Hogwarts and reconnected with Fred that she realized her life had been almost completely devoid of humor. Charlie sapped it with his complaints and his criticism, and his death brought a grief so strong it choked her; for months she never felt the familiar bubbles of laughter rise from her gut, as she so often had with Fred.
She had to come back to Hogwarts, she realized. Even if the impending threat of You-Know-Who weren't hanging over the Wizarding World and her services were unneeded, she has a feeling she would have found her way back, somehow. The final months of her last year at Hogwarts were marked with pressure, of which the magnitude was far too huge for a teenage girl to bear on her own. The psychological scars left by the trauma of 7th year never fully healed; pink and tender and raised, they mark her heart, belaboring every beat with their mutilation. Lillie received no closure upon graduation, no stitches to sew up her mangled psyche. Just more pain.
Thus far, she has been the only living reminder of this pain. With Charlie's death, her flesh is the last remaining relic of the past. Every part of her was touched by him, marked, in her own mind if nowhere else. At least in this way the pain was contained to her own body, well within her grasp and control.
When Lillie arrived at Hogwarts in March, Charlie's sister, Katie Bell, was still on leave, recovering from a curse that left her comatose for months. Bound by duty and her own self-preservation, Lillie had not gone to see Katie; besides, she had learned that Katie only recently regained her speech and motor skills--she wouldn't have been conscious to register Lillie's visit.
Katie and Lillie really only spoke in the beginning of her relationship with Charlie. Wanting desperately to be liked by her, as well as a desire to act as a bridge between Charlie and his increasingly estranged family, Lillie became Katie's friend. It wasn't as though the friendship was obligatory; Lillie came to appreciate Katie's measured silence and treasured the moments of silliness they shared together.
However, as Charlie's involvement with the Death Eaters deepened, his relationship with his parents and sister ran aground in shallow waters. For their own safety they had to be kept completely in the dark of his working with the ministry, and for months they believed their son had been collaborating with the Dark Lord. It was only at his funeral that Lillie was able to tell them of the true heroism of his actions--by then, of course, it was too late for the Bells to have their son back.
Charlie's funeral was the last time Lillie spoke to Katie. Since then, that has been the event that Katie is inextricably tied to, another living reminder of what has happened. With Katie recuperating at St. Mungo's Lillie has successfully repressed the memories Katie's presence would undoubtedly bring.
"Did you hear Katie Bell is back?" Lillie hears Angelina say, two bunks over, early one Tuesday morning.
"No, holy shit, is she okay?" her friend replies.
"I think so. I don't know anything else, I just heard from Alicia. She just, like, showed up for breakfast in the Great Hall. Like nothing happened. Fucking insane," she says, shaking her head.
Grief is a selfish thing, narrowing the scope of experience to only the individual, creating a masochistic self-centeredness as a way to cope. Instead of joy for Katie's recovery, Lillie simply feels a pressing dread at the inevitability of seeing her.
Ella, who sits next to Lillie reading the newest issue of the Quibbler, looks up at Lillie. Her face is nervous, as if she's expecting Lillie to fall apart at any moment.
"Did you, uh, hear that?" Ella asks tentatively.
"Yeah," Lillie sniffs, "I did."
"Okay. Um. Are you gonna go see her or anything?"
Lillie takes a deep breath, staring straight ahead, unfocused, "I don't know. Would it be rude not to?"
Ella pauses, "I don't think it'd be rude, no. You should do whatever's best for you. Katie's not gonna, like, hate you if you don't go say hey."
Lillie nods, "Do you think I should?"
"I think," Ella pauses, "I think it would be good for both of you. I think Katie would be really happy to see you, especially after all that's happened."
"Okay."
"You're gonna go?"
"Yeah. I am."
"Okay. Do you want me to come?" Ella asks.
"No," she shakes her head, "I can do it. It's fine."
"Okay," Ella says, smiling sadly for her friend, "I love you."
"I love you," Lillie replies, leaning into her hug.
Lillie finds Katie in the Great Hall, standing in the front of the room, surrounded by a group of people. Most are her friends, but many are likely just acquaintances, curious about how she is and what she remembers. They hover like flies around a dying animal, occasionally landing, extracting information, and then moving on to the next rotting source of gossip. Lillie hates them.
"Katie?" Lillie says, her voice giving an unsure little lilt at the end like she's asking a question.
Katie turns from where she talks to Alicia and Angelina, surprise on her face when she sees Lillie.
"Oh, Lillie!" she cries, hugging her tightly, "It's really good to see you, I thought you were in New Mexico!"
"I was, yeah, but I came back to help out around here, like Alicia and Angelina," she smiles at them, behind Katie's shoulder.
"That's really great," she says kindly. Lillie is surprised by this uncharacteristic expression of warmth; Katie was always so cool and dry, so serious. Lillie smiles as she remembers how Katie would walk down the hall, her head in front of her like she was plowing through some invisible wall, her arms clutching her books and her broom as if she'd drop them at any moment. A trip to St. Mungo's must have been what she needed--the constant crease between her brows has eased, dissolving into her features that, like Charlie's own, have taken on a certain girlishness as she's grown older.
"How are you feeling, then? I'm really sorry I never visited, I just-"
"Oh Godric, you're fine. I'm much better. I still get tired sometimes, but that means I get to make cute boys carry my books so," she shrugs, "I'm doing good."
Lillie laughs, "Good," she pauses, "I'm sure everyone's asking you this, but do you remember anything about who did it? At all?"
She shakes her head, "Not a clue. I just remember walking into the loo, and then waking up in Mungo's a few weeks ago." She can tell this was a line Katie has repeated many times this morning, and will repeat for a long time coming. However, it does not seem that she has grown tired of the constant attention, and she relays the stale information to Lillie as if she were dishing a particularly juicy piece of gossip.
Lillie sighs, "I'm so sorry. That must be awful, to not even know who was controlling you like that."
She nods, "Yeah, it's a weird loss of autonomy, you know? I just wish I could remember, and hex them to all hell."
"Me too," Lillie smiles, "Well, I'm sure you're hungry, so I'll let you go. But I'm gonna be here until the end of term, so if you ever need anything or just want to talk..."
"Of course, yeah. Thanks Lillie, it's really good to see you."
Lillie gives her another hug and walks back to the bunks, passing Harry on the way.
"Katie," she hears him say, "How are you?"
"I know you're going to ask, Harry. But I don't know who cursed me. I just remember walking into the loo..."
***
Lillie is having one of her bad days. Her head pounds with the force of the object in the Room of Requirement, and it takes most of her strength to not give in to the wrenching that pulls her upward. Seeing Katie took a chunk out of her spirit, and she grinds through her duties haphazardly, putting in little effort.
Lillie walks down the long main corridor on the sixth floor, poking her head into empty classrooms and closets. She's doing her daily guarding duties, on the lookout for any unusual Death Eater activity or students out of class. She walks past a short hallway on her right, knowing that the boys' restroom is all that lies at the end of it. She's in no mood to catch a pair of lovers on some mid-class quickie. The rhythm of her shoes against the flagstone, at this point, has faded into the background like white noise--this is why she almost didn't notice that the sound had suddenly turned from tapping to splashing. She looks down, confused, at the shallow water pooling at her feet. It's not yet deep enough to soak through the canvas of her sneakers, but peculiar all the same. She looks up and around, peering down the dark hall to the boys' bathroom. It's still daytime, but this corridor has no windows. Only a muted light comes from the wan green glass windows, a much whiter light than what illuminates the Slytherin common room even on the brightest of days. She stands completely still, squinting, trying to make out what might be at the end of the hall.
With a crash that shakes her whole body so that she can almost hear her very bones collide, a jet of white light shoots across the doorway and hits a sink, sending water hissing from the raw, exposed pipe like a ruptured artery. Two people shuffle in the water, both grunting with the effort of physically dodging spells and casting their own. Lillie takes off in a sprint down the hall, the steadily growing pool of water splashing up against her jeans. She takes half a loping, frantic step into the flooding bathroom before a spell, discharged from the right like a brassy shotgun, hits a stall just above her head, sending the metal panel flying. She's forced to hit the floor, almost completely submerging in the glacier-cold water. She scrambles up, her magic burning hot in her chest and fingertips, sizzling and ready to strike.
Draco and Harry stand at opposite ends of the bathroom, which is in ruin. Shards of broken mirror reflect in the water on the floor, sending refractions of light bouncing around as spells launch to and fro. Sinks and toilets sit strewn on the tile like boulders. Water is gushing out of the walls, where the sinks have been severed like heads, careless carnage.
"Stop!" Lillie shouts, whipping her head back and forth. If either of them hear the way her voice echoes, reverberating around the room wetly, they give no answer nor do they heed her command.
"Harry, stop!" she repeats. Both of the boys look at her briefly, and she can see a glimmer of fear in Harry as he sees her. He knows Dumbledore will hear of this. Perhaps it was this fear, so desperate to hold onto his chosen one persona, that made him do what he did next.
Draco, taking advantage of Harry's distraction, yells,
"Crucio-"
"Sectumsempra!" Harry screams.
Draco's curse dies in his mouth, replaced by a spurt of blood that drips thickly down his chin, trickling in a steady stream into the water at his feet. Lillie swears and raises her hand, jerking it to the left. Harry flies against the wall behind him, staying suspended a few feet above the ground by her spell. She runs to Draco as he collapses into the water, red blooming from his shirt like poppies. Harry thrashes against her spell for a moment, before going still as he watches Draco bleed before him. Lillie kneels, pressing her shaking hands on the rapidly growing wounds, attempting to stop the bleeding. She thinks frantically as she feels the warm cuts spread across his torso.
She has never heard the spell before, not in her time at Hogwarts. Harry's shock indicates he didn't know the spell either, until the moment he cast it. The bleeding is not slowing, even with the pressure Lillie applies, and the cuts on Draco's face are deep and ugly, and something about them makes her muscles freeze in terror. Ice covers Lillie, like winter frost, as she realises Harry has used dark magic on a student.
She takes a deep, steadying breath, and closes her eyes. She begins a healing spell, the strongest one she knows. It requires tremendous force and concentration, both of which are in short supply in her current state, as the room of requirement pulls her upwards. Her neck strains as she casts the spell, pouring herself and her life's force into Draco's wounds. After a moment, the blood flow slows infinitesimally, the deep gouges closing slowly. Lillie screams, from stress and effort and pain, and releases the spell with a gasp. The cuts simply reopen, saturating Draco's shirt and floating in the pool of water like blooms of ink, stirring with his pained movements. She hasn't yet become skilled enough in wandless magic to be able to hold the spell for longer than a few seconds at a time; another year in New Mexico, and she might have mastered it.
"Fuck!" Lillie yells, panting. Draco's movements have stilled and his eyelids droop. His face is so pale, she realizes. If she doesn't heal him in the next minute, he'll die.
At that moment, Lillie hears a fourth person enter the room, and she looks up, relieved. Snape rushes to where Malfoy lies, his dark woolen robes swishing in the water. Lillie drops the spell that holds Harry up and he falls, crumpling to his knees before scrambling up.
"I don't know what he did, I haven't heard the spell before, something that started with an S," Lillie says quickly, her voice shaky but measured.
Snape says nothing as Harry stands there, stricken with fear.
"Vulnera Sanentur," Snape murmurs over Draco, his wand hovering over the gashes in his chest. He repeats this, over and over like a song, as the cuts close and the blood stops pooling around them. Lillie, staring numbly at the wreckage around her, idly notices Draco's grey vest, marked with the Slytherin snake, floating dumbly in the water near the last intact sink. Lillie stands up, stopping the gushing water quickly before turning to Harry. He looks at her, his eyes like bright green saucers without his round glasses, and runs away.
She hears a voice down the hall, "Harry, what's with the slip n slide--"
Fred, she thinks, closing her eyes and smiling with relief. Of course, he always knows when to come. He stops in his tracks, his sentence forgotten, as he sees Lillie silhouetted in the doorway, soaked in water and blood, surrounded by the wreckage of the duel. "Shit! Lillie," he exclaims, wading quickly through the water toward where she turns to him. George rushes to where Snape is bent over Draco and begins talking to him lowly. Fred immediately brings his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks gently, turning her head to check for injury. "Godric, Lillienne, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?" He hasn't glanced at Draco nor Snape.
"No," she says, jerking her head towards Draco's crumpled form, "It's Malfoy. Harry... he almost killed him, used some Dark Magic, I don't even know where he learned it," she inhales twice with a jerk, shock setting in, "He's so cut up, I could see his ribs. I tried to heal him, but it wasn't working, I don't know how--"
Fred shushes her comfortingly, pulling her into a hug, "It's okay, you did good, yeah?"
Snape's cold voice echoes around the room, clear and cutting, "Lillienne likely saved his life today. No spell can fully heal a wound caused by Dark Magic, obviously, but," he sniffs, like complimenting a former student would leave a bad taste in his simmering little mouth, "Slowing his bleeding bought him valuable seconds."
Snape, Lillie realizes, looks pale and drawn, much more than usual. This is as stricken Lillie has seen him, even through the horrors Hogwarts has seen over the past six years.
"Fucking hell," he breathes, pulling her to him, "Harry's an idiot. But you're okay, yeah? Didn't get in the middle of anything?"
"Malfoy nearly took my head off," she laughs humorlessly, "But yeah, I'm okay."
Fred exhales forcefully, muttering, "I'll kill him, if Harry hasn't already."
"Stop," she says, "I'm fine." Fred releases her, looking at her sceptically.
"Take him to Madame Pomfrey," Snape says. Lillie's never heard his voice so wracked with concern; it's the first time she's seen him express an emotion other than anger or apathy. George nods and tugs him up gingerly, slinging Draco's arm over his shoulder. Water falls from his limp form in currents, soaking George almost immediately. Draco falls back to the ground, too weak to stand. Snape sighs, casting a spell that lifts him into the air, seemingly on an invisible gurney. George walks out of the bathroom, Draco behind him. Snape looks to where Fred and Lillie stand, Fred's arm around her shoulder protectively.
"Tell no one," he says before swishing out of the room.
Lillie's teeth clatter as she shivers forcefully. Her lips are a dark purple, and her cotton clothing clings to her cruelly.
"You look cold," Fred says. Even in her state, Lillie rolls her eyes at his obvious observation.
"You th-th-think?" she says sarcastically, and Fred scoffs.
"Let's warm you up."
They walk, very slowly, as Fred leads them upstairs. Lillie, who is barely conscious, follows Fred as he leads her through the castle, much like that day a few weeks ago. In fact, the route they take is almost identical as he leads her up to the Room of Requirement.
"Why are we going to the Room of Requirement?" Lillie asks softly.
"I reckon it'll spit out a pretty luxe bathroom for you if we ask. Besides, it's closer than our bunks." She nods, satisfied with his explanation. They stand in front of the dusty tapestry as Fred thinks about a really, really nice bathroom. The stones almost instantly begin shifting and grinding, forming themselves into a simple wooden door. Fred walks up and opens it, peeking his head in slowly. He glances around briefly before turning back to where Lillie stands with her arms wrapped around herself, attempting to keep warm. He's smiling widely, "Luxe indeed." He steps back, holding the door open for her.
The room is small by Hogwarts standards, only 100 square feet. It's lit by lamps lining the wall, their clouded glass emitting a soft, cashmere light that somehow reflects off the smooth, matte stone floors around the room. To the left, a giant clawfoot bathtub with golden fashionings sits. To the right, a wood furnace blazes, the flames flickering calmly. A long mirror runs along the opposite wall, and a sink stands against it. A single wooden rocking chair is by the head of the bathtub. A plush beige towel hangs on a rack on the wall, and a variety of soaps and balms sit on a shelf, their colorful, ornate designs more resembling a candy shop than a toiletry cabinet.
"Cool," Lillie says, looking around, "I wish I knew about this during NEWTs."
"Me too," Fred says as he leads her towards the chair, sitting her down carefully.
"You didn't even take NEWTs," she says, yawning. Her eyes droop closed, and her head lolls. Fred bends to turn the bath on, checking the temperature and adjusting the knobs. He stands up and looks down at her bent head. He strokes her hair and gently moves her head up.
"You're sure you didn't hit your head or anything?" he asks, his thumb touching her cheekbone in soothing motions.
"Yeah," she nods, "I'm just tired." He nods.
"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it then. I'll be outside waiting, but take as long as you need. Seriously."
Lillie nods, biting the inside of her mouth. He backs towards the door, examining her face as though he were still worried she had some invisible wound he hadn't yet noticed. His hand finds the doorknob and he twists it, the door barely opening.
"Actually," she says softly, "Will you stay? In here?" Fred swallows, nodding, secretly relieved she asked. He didn't want to come off as creepy, but he was genuinely concerned she'd fall asleep in the tub and drown. She smiles and reaches to the hem of her shirt, beginning to take it off. She's so tired, she can't be bothered to muster any embarrassment. Fred reddens and looks away, staring pointedly at the selection of soaps the Room of Requirement offers. Lillie struggles for a moment with the wet fabric before getting frustrated. "Will you just help me?" she asks, raising her arms up limply.
Fred chuckles and nods, walking to her. He hesitates before grasping the hem himself, peeling it slowly from her torso. His knuckles, bent around the fabric, graze her sides delicately, and goosebumps raise on her cold skin. She's wearing a bra--thank Godrick, Fred thinks--but it doesn't cover much. A simple underwire supports the pink mesh stretched across her breasts, and Fred feels his face heat as the sticky fabric slowly reveals her chest. He tugs the shirt over her head and she pulls her arms from the sleeves, and he lets the shirt smack wetly on the ground.
She fumbles with the button on her jeans, but the cold has shrunk her capillaries and made her fingers practically useless; any coordination has long left her.
"Will you..." she says, gesturing to the button. Fred nods again--he doesn't trust his voice.
He opens the button with ease, unzipping the fly slowly and tugging at her waistband.
"Have a lot of practice with that, huh?" she says, sleep slurring her words. Fred snickers; he can always count on her to lighten a mood. He pulls her jeans down and she steps out of them, her hand bracing his shoulder for support. "M'kay, close your eyes," she says.
Fred searches her face for a moment before closing his eyes. He hears her shuffle, and two more damp articles of clothing fall to the floor. She walks over to the tub and steps in--he can hear the water slosh. He doesn't open his eyes until she tells him to; all he can see of her is her head, turned towards him, gazing sleepily. He walks to the rocking chair and sinks into it, leaning towards her.
"You're sure you don't have a concussion or anything?"
"I'm sure, Freddie. It's just the spell I used. I figured Harry had used Dark Magic, from the way the spell sounded and the," she pauses, "damage it did. The only thing that would have any chance of helping was this Puebloan spell I learned. It's, like, super old and powerful, and it uses your own health to heal someone else," she yawns, "but I didn't do it right. It's hard to practice, obviously."
"You did it well enough, huh?" he smooths his palm over her hair, shaking his head. "I dunno why you saved that cunt," his nostrils flare, his anger rising again at the danger she was put in, "You're a saint."
"You would have too. Anyone would have," she pauses, "Draco. He's..."
"What?"
She shakes her head, "I don't know, I just think there's something there. More to the story. He... he just looks so sad. I've never seen a sadder looking person," she pauses, collecting her thoughts, "He reminds me of Charlie sometimes."
Fred is quiet, considering this. He doesn't quite know what to say, whether he agrees or disagrees.
"Snape called you by your first name, did you notice that?" he says, breaking the silence and changing the subject.
Lillie laughs,"No I didn't, I was more focused on the child bleeding out on the floor."
"Oh, I wasn't. But yeah, I suppose you're his hero now, for saving his pet ferret."
"Well, it took him long enough. Maybe he'll retroactively boost my potions grade."
Fred chuckles, his eyes lingering on where hers droop, threatening to close at any moment. He can see how tired she is and resolves to not continue the conversation any further, allowing her to relax, little by little, into the warm bubbles that pile around her.
Rosewater suds, chamomile smiles, the smell of clean skin and castille soap. Two wet elbows dripping on the smooth stone floor, two knobby knees sticking up from the milky water like islands. Steam on the mirror, so clouded that if someone walked in, all they would see is two silhouettes in love.