PART I: LILY
Lily isn't sad. Really she isn't. Not about James Potter announcing to half of London that he doesn't want her anymore. Or about Mary going behind her back and talking to him in the first place. Those things are stupid and silly and they don't matter. So she isn't sad about them. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. In fact, she's barely thought about either one of those people since New Years. So. There.
"Have you seen my Charms textbook?" Marlene asks when Lily emerges from the bathroom after taking a shower that was both too long and too hot. But not because she's sad.
"Um...no?" she very pointedly does not make eye contact with Mary.
"Goddamnit," Marlene is currently on her stomach, half under her bed, throwing random items into the middle of the floor in her frantic search.
"Mar dear," Mary says, sounding bored. She's perched in the window, inspecting her nails. "You do know you're a witch right? Just Accio that sucker."
The frantic searching stops as Marlene crawls back out from under her bed, sitting back on her heels, blond hair a mess. "Oh," she says a little breathlessly. "Yeah, right. Good call."
Lily finishes getting dressed as Marlene gropes around for her wand. "Shouldn't you two be at practice?" she asks, forcing her voice to sound casual. Because she isn't sad. So how else would her voice sound?
"No," Mary says tightly.
"James cancelled it."
Lily turns to face her roommates, directing her look of astonishment at Marlene specifically.
"I know," Marlene says, shoving her newly found Charms textbook into her bag.
"Is he sick?" Lily asks, hating herself for caring.
"Merlin I don't know," Marlene runs a hand through her hair. "Remus says he isn't but—cancelling practice? After the break? With Mary only just able to play again?" she shakes her head. "Something is definitely wrong. Has to be."
Lily can feel Mary's eyes on her but she refuses to meet them. She doesn't think that this has anything to do with New Years—I mean, it can't, right? Why would James be upset? Upset enough to cancel Quidditch? Even when he'd been fighting with Sirius he hadn't missed Quidditch. She wonders if Mary knows but she doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of asking. It isn't that she hasn't spoken to Mary at all since the break, she just hasn't spoken to her much.
"Lily?"
She blinks, coming back to herself and finding both Marlene and Mary watching her. It's clear that this is not the first time her name has been said.
"Alright?" Marlene asks tentatively.
Lily instantly nods, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah of course." Neither of them look convinced but she doesn't give them the chance to push the matter. "C'mon, lets go before we're late for breakfast," she throws her bag over her shoulder, moving for the door before either of them can answer.
James isn't at breakfast. Not that Lily is looking for him. Not that she cares where he is or what he's doing or if he's okay. He doesn't want her. That's fine. Really. She'll not want him back. Any minute now. She'll not want him back so hard.
"Who are you looking for?" Marlene asks, causing Lily to start. She rips her eyes away from the end of the table where the other three marauders are sitting, excuse ready on the tip of her tongue. But when she looks at Marlene she realizes it's Mary she's talking to.
"No one," Mary says casually, not looking nearly as guilty as Lily. Regardless both Lily and Marlene immediately try to follow her gaze.
"Slytherin? Are you looking at someone in Slytherin?" Marlene sounds slightly horrified. "Merlin Mary, please tell me you're not hooking up with one of them? Diggory was bad enough."
Mary snorts, turning her attention back to her breakfast. "No. I'm not hooking up with one of them."
Lily waits for Mary to explain why then, she's staring so intently at the Slytherin table, but she doesn't. This is especially infuriating because Lily can't just ask her herself because she's not supposed to be talking to Mary right now, or at least not except when absolutely necessary. So she looks pointedly at Marlene, waiting for her to take on the burden of asking the obvious follow-up questions, but Marlene's attention appears to have already wandered.
"Oh hey!" Marlene waves at Dorcas Meadowes, her voice about two octaves higher and more chipper than it had been only thirty seconds earlier. "Hey, hi, good morning!" she keeps going, unnecessarily.
Mary snorts, rolling her eyes as Marlene nearly vibrates in the seat beside her.
"What'd you drink a whole vat of coffee this morning?" Mary asks. Marlene only elbows her as Dorcas reaches them.
"Hey guys," Dorcas looks a bit uncertain.
"Hi!"
"I think you've covered the greetings Mar," that comment earns Mary another elbow.
"Can I er—" Dorcas blushes as she mumbles, "is it alright if I sit here?"
"Yeah, of course!" Marlene is so eager Lily half expects her to pull out Dorcas's chair for her.
"Thanks," Dorcas smiles as she takes her seat. It's not that Dorcas never sits with them, it's just that she has her own group of friends. She's more of what Lily thinks of as a walk-by-and-wave acquaintance.
"How's it going Dorcas?" she asks, trying to get herself together. This morning has already been a lot and it's not even nine.
"Pretty good, you?"
Lily knows her smile is strained. "I'm excellent."
Mary does not bother to acknowledge that someone else has joined them. Well, at least not until Marlene kicks her under the table. Rolling her eyes at her best friend she offers Dorcas a sardonic look.
"Meadowes."
"Macdonald," Dorcas returns, looking like she's trying not to smile. When silence falls after that Dorcas clears her throat. "You guys have a good Christmas?"
"Brilliant Christmas," Marlene jumps in, clearly happy to have something to talk about. "Though to be fair I've never not had a brilliant Christmas, it's kinda my favourite time of year."
Dorcas smiles fondly at her and Lily is surprised to see Marlene's cheeks grow pink.
"Mine too," Dorcas says.
Forgetting, momentarily, that she's still angry at her, Lily makes eye contact with Mary across the table. It's a sort of "are you seeing what I'm seeing?" kind of look. Or, perhaps more accurately a "is it just me, or does this feel like flirting?" kinda look.
"What's your favourite part?" Marlene asks excitedly, eyes only for Dorcas. "Mine's the food, obviously. My mum makes the best mashed potatoes."
"Nah-uh," Dorcas argues playfully. "My mum definitely makes the best mashed potatoes."
Marlene grins, arching her brow. "Is that a challenge? You really think you could beat me in a potato off?"
Dorcas's eyes sparkle. "Bring it on McKinnon."
Lily isn't sure what's going on between Dorcas and Marlene. On the surface there's nothing overly intimate about their conversation, it's just small talk. But something about their little smiles and flushed cheeks charges the air with more.With something that makes Lily feel ...lonely.
"Sorry, I just remembered I forgot something upstairs," she says suddenly, pushing away from the table and causing Marlene to look up from Dorcas for the first time. "I'll just...." she gestures towards the doors, grabbing her bag and awkwardly walking away, "meet you in class."
Marlene looks confused. Mary does not.
"Okay, see you?" she hears Marlene call after her as she speed walks towards the exit.
She still isn't sad by the way.
That's very important.
Or at least so she tells herself.
She isn't sad about the way that Marlene and Dorcas were looking at one another, or the fast back and forth between them. Conversation coming so easily once it was started. She isn't sad that the person she thought she had that same connection with doesn't want her. And she certainly isn't heartbroken.
Does it hurt that he doesn't want you?
Asks the voice in her head.
Or that he used to, and you laughed in his face?
She grits her teeth.
Neither.
Neither hurts because she isn't sad. She isn't anything.
Lily forces herself to slow her pace, she's walking far too fast for someone who is trying to waste time. Of course, there's nothing she forgot upstairs and she's too lazy to go all the way back up the tower for no reason, so she decides she'll just take the long way to class. The beauty of going to school in a massive medieval castle is that it makes dawdling exceptionally easy. Lily knows for a fact that Mary used the moving staircases as an excuse to be late to Charms for almost a year before Flitwick finally caught on.
Running a hand across her face she lets out a heavy sigh. This is okay. She's okay. Everything is going to be fine.
"Bad morning?"
She swings around to find James bloody Potter hiding in the alcove of one of the windows. Because of course he is. Lily doesn't know what she did to piss off the universe this much but she's more than ready to sacrifice a goat or something and beg for forgiveness.
"What the hell Potter, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she stutters, cheeks flushing with embarrassment like she'd just been caught doing something embarrassing. Which is stupid, especially since he's not even looking at her.
"Sorry," he says eventually, voice flat. It's not a tone that suits him.
For half a heartbeat Lily pretends that she's going to walk away. Whatever is going on with James Potter it's none of her business. For her own health she needs to stay as far away from this boy as possible. Yet somehow she still finds herself stepping towards him. He doesn't look up, but she can see the blank look in his eyes, hair more a mess then normal, mouth held tightly.
"You cancelled Quidditch?" she says nonsensically, because he isn't speaking and she can't stand the silence.
He nods, expression unchanged. "That I did."
"You never cancel practice."
At first she thinks he isn't going to answer her, she supposes it isn't a statement that necessarily requires an answer. But after a few moments he speaks again.
"To be fair, I've only been Captain for one term."
"Yeah but..." she doesn't know why she feels the need to push this, except that it feels important somehow. "You're you."
He laughs dryly. "I am me."
"Quidditch is like—like half your personality. The first time I met you it was all "Gryffindor this" and "My dad that" and "Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch." That was it. The whole train ride here, all you could talk about were those three things."
"I sound insufferable."
"Well obviously."
That manages to get a genuine laugh out of him, even if it's only half-hearted.
"Obviously," he repeats.
More silence. Lily should go. She knows she should. This is just...awkward...and weird. But something in her stomach, in her chest, keeps her still. Unwilling to give the moment up. The chance to talk to him. To have his attention. God, when did she become so pathetic?
"I guess the other half of me is stronger," James says after too long. Lily tries to catch up.
"What?"
Finally, he looks at her. "You said Quidditch is half of who I am," he shrugs. "I guess the other half is stronger."
She struggles to hold his stare. It isn't...right, somehow. Too...sad. She's not sure she's ever seen that before. Sure, James has been angry and confused and hurt, but this is something else.
"What's the other half?" she finds herself asking, desperate to know.
He holds her stare for another few seconds before looking away. "Listen," the tone of his voice has changed, "about New Years Eve—"
Lily raises her hand to stop him. "It's whatever James. Stupid drama. It doesn't matter." Lies, all of it.
"Have you talked to Mary about it?" he asks eventually. That actually startles a laugh out of her.
"No. No I'm not really...anyway, like I said, it doesn't matter. It's not like I want you to...you know...anyway." God, she can't even finish a sentence.
He's staring at his hands again. "I do know," he says eventually, and Lily's not sure why instead of relief she feels disappointed. Like she wanted him to see through her. To know that she is completely gone on him. All butterflies and weak knees and every other ridiculous cliché.
"I'm still sorry though," he goes on, "it felt a little...harsh. Even if you don't want me to...want you," they both cringe, though Lily suspects for different reasons.
"Alright, well, apology accepted then," she says, eager to move past this. Except that it becomes immediately apparent that James has nothing else to say to her.
Go.
She shouts at herself.
You're being weird. He clearly wants to be alone, just go!
"Are you alright James?" she finally asks, voice soft, feet very much not moving.
He laughs without humour, picking at his fingers. "Nah, I don't think so," he says it so casually that for a moment Lily is almost certain she's misheard.
"Do—can I help?" she asks pathetically. "Is it...did something happen over the break? Your parents—"
James shakes his head. It takes a long time for him to speak. Too long really. Despite her best efforts Lily starts to fidget. She's never been very patient.
"Sometimes I feel like we're being hung out to dry here," he says quietly, barely audible even in the empty hallway. "There's this war coming—or starting—or happening—but no one really wants to...to talk to us about it. Like they're afraid we can't handle it or that it'll scare us or some other bullshit excuse. But like...we're in it too, we're already involved. There are kids in this school choosing sides. Being forced to choose. And everyone is just...acting like they can't see it. Or like it isn't as real for us."
Lily is frankly a little blown away to hear any of this coming out of James Potter's mouth. Besides the fact that it is not at all the direction she saw this conversation going in, she has always felt that the Purebloods were kind of oblivious to the reality of the situation. That they didn't see what was going on or, if they did, they couldn't quite grasp how dangerous it was. Yet here is James Potter, king of the Purebloods, reflecting all her own outrage back at her.
"Bad things are happening," James goes on, voice rough. "I can see it and I want to help—I'm trying to help—but this is so much bigger than anything I've ever had to deal with and I feel like I keep failing. Keep letting everyone down. I just need someone to tell me what to do, you know? To stop hiding things from me in some pointless attempt to protect me and just explain the rules, show me how to fight. Because I will. I fucking will I just—right now it's like all I'm doing is punching walls. All I have are bloody hands."
She isn't sure if it's his words or his fidgeting or the way he keeps looking at them—his hands—but before she can think better of it she reaches out, wrapping her own hands gently around his, stilling his frantic fingers. She expects him to pull away but he doesn't, just keeps staring down at the place where they're touching, a faint expression of surprise on his face.
"All any of us can do is try. Honestly I'm not sure even Dumbledore is managing more than that these days."
James shakes his head, eyes glassy even though he isn't crying. "It's not enough."
She squeezes his hands. "Are you kidding me? It's everything," she wishes that her voice didn't sound quite so besotted but she presses on quickly before either of them can think about it. "You know how many people brush me off when I talk about how bad things have gotten in this school? How many teachers?"
James looks up at her affronted. "What?"
She nods. "And sometimes I don't wanna push it, you know? I'm not as brave as Mary," she gives him a self deprecating smile. "I'm worried that if we become too much of a nuisance we'll lose the allies we have."
James's eyes widen. "That's fucked, that so fucked Lily," he squeezes her hands back.
She only shrugs. "It's life. There are a lot of Wizards who have more to gain by keeping quiet than speaking out," she looks at him. "You're one of them, so is Sirius—we all got to watch how much it cost him, standing up."
"He'd do it again," James says, fiercely. "In a heartbeat."
"Yeah," Lily smirks a little. "Yeah I know. It—I don't know how to explain what it meant to me. To Mary too. Watching him walk away. Watching you help him, support him. With the exception of a few, most people aren't awful to your face, but when push comes to shove they don't have your back. Aren't gonna risk anything," she swallows, throat dry, trying to get her thoughts in order so she can stop giving him a bloody sermon.
"What I'm trying to say," she goes on eventually. "Is you seeing what's going on, you caring, it's important. It's enough."
He holds her eyes, searching her face. "I'm here for you, you know that right? If something happens..." his voice is warm, if he's ever spoken to her like this before she can't remember it. All artifice and performance stripped away, he speaks with heat and care and something that makes her chest ache. "I'll always believe you. Always."
Oh.
Oh fuck him.
Fuck him all the way into the centre of the sun.
What gives him the right to look at her like that?
To say that to her?
And not want her.
Because he doesn't. And she has to remind herself of that, especially right now, in this moment, when he's talking like she's someone who matters to him, both of his hands curled around her's.
If James notices the effect his words are having on Lily he doesn't show it, instead he lets out a sigh, head falling back against the wall behind him as he closes his eyes. It takes Lily an embarrassingly long time to get herself together.
"Did something happen James?" she asks again, because she can't quite imagine that this has all come out of nowhere.
She sees him swallow, sees his eyes squeeze more tightly shut. "I need to find someone. I think they're in trouble. It might be my fault. So I have to find them but I don't know how."
Lily nods, taking that in. She has no idea who it could be, since all the other marauders are accounted for, but she decides not to push. If James doesn't want to tell her he doesn't have to.
"I'm assuming there's no one who can...help?"
James shakes his head.
"Okay," Lily's mind is already humming with possibilities. Looking for something, anything that she can do. Any way she can help. "Maybe...maybe there's a spell—"
He shakes his head again. "I've been looking. So has Remus. We asked Flitwick and McGonagall. The closest would be the tracking spell—Appare Vestigium—but it only shows recent magical footprints. It doesn't reveal someone's location."
Lily blinks, something clinking into place. "Okay, okay but wait—that's not a bad start."
James opens his eyes, turning to her quizzically, eyebrow raised. "Not a bad start?"
She nods, a dozen different possibilities whipping through her head. "What if we altered the spell—found a way to locate a specific magical footprint or signature," she focuses on him again. "Do you have something that would have their magical footprint on it? Something they cast a spell on? The more involved the magic was the better."
"I—er—yeah. Yeah, actually, I do."
Lily nods. "Okay, good. That's good. If we have that than maybe..." she trails off. "I have to go to the library, there are about a dozen books I need to take out." Without even thinking she starts walking in that direction.
"Wait," James sits up properly, hand reaching out to her even though she's too far to touch. "Do you really think, I mean, you really think we can do this? Alter the spell?"
She meets his hopeful eyes, holding them for long enough that nothing she says can be misinterpreted as flippant, "It's like I said before," she shrugs, aiming for a casual confidence she doesn't feel, "we can try."
PART II JAMES
His feet have barely hit the ground before he's walking.
"Potter? Oi, Potter!?"
The sky above them is only just turning blue, the sunrise always weaker in the winter months. He doesn't slow down, doesn't turn as he hears the noise of another dozen brooms landing on the field behind him.
"James!"
"Practice is over!" he shouts over his shoulder. "Back here tomorrow, same time."
"Over?" Mary demands, other people are talking too but they have the curtesy to do it at a level that James can't hear. "How can it be over, it just bloody started!"
"I'm cutting it short. You wanna keep going, by all means, we have the pitch until eight-thirty."
"If I wanna keep going? You're the bloody captain!" she yells angrily. If he thought she was going to be nicer to him after their fight on New Years Eve he was mistaken. Not that she's wrong, mind you. A few weeks ago the idea of ending practice early would have made him choke. But things change. Priorities change. For the first time he thinks he understands Frank's choice to give up the pros for the Aurors.
"Yeah I am," he shouts back, nearly at the locker room now. "And I say practice is over!"
He ducks inside. No one else tries to stop him.
No more than fifteen minutes later he's showered and dressed and practically jogging through the school towards the library. It's early enough that the corridors are still pretty deserted—at least the ones that don't lead to the Great Hall where the smell of bacon and syrup call out to his already grumbling stomach. But food will have to wait.
There are one or two other students in the library but few enough that he spots Lily and Remus instantly, heads bowed together, books spread out in front of them.
"Hey," he says, dropping down into the free seat next to Lily.
Both Remus and Lily jump, nearly colliding heads.
"Jesus James," Remus says, clutching his heart, "a little warning next time."
James arches his brow. "More warning than 'hey' ?"
"I thought you had Quidditch?" Lily asks.
He nods. "I did. Ended it early. So," he nods at the book currently open between them, "find anything?"
When his gaze meets Lily's he realizes how close he's sitting to her. He's never noticed before—the flecks of gold in her eyes.
"Er—" Lily shakes herself, similarly distracted it would seem, though James doesn't know by what.
"We've found the right conjugation we're pretty sure, but something is missing from the end of the spell, something to give it strength, a far reach—geographically speaking," Remus gestures to the open book and James can see lists of different letter combinations and their magical properties, along with a small descriptions on the power of certain syllables.
"Couldn't it be a wand movement?" he asks after a minute.
Lily nods, reaching over him to tap on the large stack of books in the centre of the table. "Those are next," she says with a small smile. James stares at all the work they still have to do, his foot starting to bounce anxiously under the table. He keeps waiting for Regulus to just show up at breakfast one day—healthy and safe. It's an unlikely scenario but it's the only thing keeping him from losing his mind. The spell is taking too long, the three of them are doing everything they can but it's still not enough.
Lily places a warm hand on his forearm, stilling him. "It'll be okay. We'll find them. I promise."
He gives her a tight smile. He knows she has no real choice but to say that. He also knows it's not something she can actually promise.
"Lets show him the map," Lily says finally, tearing her eyes away from James to look at Remus who is giving them a questioning stare that James can't understand.
"Yeah, okay," he nods after a second, pulling out his wand and spelling the books off the table and into neat little stacks on the floor. Both Remus and Lily stand so James follows suit, watching as Lily pulls out a large rolled map and begins unfurling it on the tabletop with Remus's help. Black ink and beige canvas stares up at James, and it only takes him a minute to realize what he's looking at.
"Britain?" he asks, looking at his two friends for confirmation.
"We should be able to get the spell to stretch far enough to cover approximately this much land."
"But no more?" James asks.
Remus's grimaces. "Magic across borders gets tricky for a lot of reasons, not just distance. Trying to stretch the spell further would weaken it and potentially—er—alert the authorities to what we're doing."
James nods, feeling something like fear gnaw at his stomach. "Makes sense," he says, staring back down at the map.
"You think they might be on the continent?" Lily asks curiously.
James just shrugs. "No idea," though he hasn't been able to shake the feeling that Regulus might be in France. He's never mentioned it before but Sirius has, and James knows the Black's have connections there.
"So," James says finally, trying to stay calm. "What's the plan? How will it work?"
"Well," Lily goes on. "I mean, it's fairly simple really. We'll cast the spell on the object with their magical footprint and then as soon as they use magic it'll be able to show us where they are on the map."
James's eyes trace the lines in front of him—roads and rivers and town borders. It's possible, of course, that the spell will tell him that Regulus is at Grimmauld Place. But if James is going to storm the place he wants to make sure.
And,
says the voice at the back of his mind.
If he's casting spells that means he isn't dead.
James shakes his head, instantly trying to get that thought out. Regulus isn't dead. There's no way, Walburga would never let anything happen to her only remaining heir.
Unless she found out that he's queer,
the voice goes on.
Unless she found out that she's been betrayed again.
He takes in a shaky breath, hand reaching out to grab hold of the table.
No.
He thinks. Has to think.
That isn't what happened. Can't be what happened.
"James?" Lily asks tentatively, causing him to look up and find both of his friends eyeing him with concern.
"I'm fi—"
"What the hell!?"
All three of them whip around to find a pissed off Sirius marching towards them, Peter in tow.
"Mr. Black!" Madam Pince, the sharp faced librarian, stands up behind her desk by the front doors, black hair pulled into a tight bun as she glares daggers at Sirius. "You will keep your voice down in my library."
It's very clear to James that Sirius is struggling not to roll his eyes. "Yes Madam Pince."
"Quieter, please," she pushes, and while normally James would thoroughly enjoy watching Sirius get taken down by the school librarian, he really doesn't need his best mate to be in a worse mood than he already is.
"Sorry Madam Pince," Sirius repeats through clenched teeth, voice a near whisper.
Pince nods her head sharply. "If I have to tell you again you'll be kicked out, understood?"
"Yes."
"Very well, continue on," she waves a bony hand in the air as she turns back to the parchments in front of her.
Fists at his sides and fire burning in his eyes Sirius stalks towards them.
"Fuck," James hears Remus hiss under his breath and, quite frankly, James has to agree.
"What the hell?" Sirius whisper-shouts when he gets to their table, eyes quickly dropping down to the map spread between them which basically makes them double fucked because they can't even pass this off as homework.
"You fucking ditched me!"
"Us!" Peter corrects from his side.
Sirius waves his hand in a 'yeah, yeah' gesture.
"I had Quidditch practice," James says, feeling like that's a pretty solid excuse until Sirius turns to him with narrowed eyes.
"Library's a weird fucking place for Quidditch practice Prongs."
Which is, admittedly, a good point.
"It—er—ended early?" he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Ended early?" Sirius demands. "First you're cancelling practices and now you're ending them early?"
"That is a little suspicious James," Peter adds unhelpfully.
"Yes, thank you Wormtail," he says flatly.
"Are you dying or something? Because the way you've been acting I would fucking believe it," Sirius snarls, not sounding nearly as upset as James thinks he should about the idea of his best mates untimely demise.
"Sirius, your voice," Remus warns, eyes flicking to Madam Pince who is now eyeing them threateningly.
"And you," Sirius turns on him. "Don't even get me started on you, sneaking out of bed in the middle of the goddamn night."
Remus looks affronted. "I did not sneak."
"Really? I don't remember hearing anything. Do you Pete?"
Peter shakes his head. "Nah-uh."
Remus rolls his eyes. "You two sleep like boulders. I don't need to 'sneak out' not to wake you."
"The question is why are you two scurrying off while we're asleep in the first place," Sirius waves an angry finger between Remus and James. "This is like the third time this week. And what the hell is Evans doing here!"
The three of them stare back at him, and then at one another. Unsure what to say at this point.
"Er—studying?" James offers up weakly, which is, of course, the wrong thing to say.
"You have got to be kidding me," Sirius laughs humourlessly. "Why don't you just tell me you're going for a walk—" James sees it then, sees something click in Sirius's brain. "This is about him isn't it?"
"Him?" Lily asks.
"Sirius—"
"Does she know?" he jabs an accusatory finger at Lily. "Did you tell her? Does she know who he is?"
"Who who is?" Lily demands, which, if Sirius had been paying attention, he would have seen as a clear sign that James has told Lily almost nothing. But, of course, he wasn't.
"First Remus and now Evans? Do you trust everyone more than you trust me?"
James flinches. "No," he says weakly. "Padfoot, listen—"
"Mr. Black," Madam Pince's voice cuts across the library. She's standing again, arms folded across her chest. "I told you not to make me ask you twice."
James watches Sirius struggle to get himself under control enough not to snap at her.
"It's my fault Madam Pince, sorry," James tries to jump in, but the librarian only holds up her hand.
"I know whose voice I heard Mr. Potter and it wasn't yours," she glares very pointedly at Sirius. "Get out Mr. Black."
For a second James thinks he's going to argue with her, but then he sees the fight drain out of him. "Whatever," Sirius mutters, walking out of the library without even looking at the rest of them. James is about to go after him when Remus beats him to it, already spelling his things into his bag.
"I'll go get him," he says, halfway to the door. "You two okay to finish here?"
"Yeah," Lily says quickly. "Yeah we'll be fine."
Remus nods, jogging after his...after his Sirius. Making something itch in James's chest.
Peter lets out a big exhale, "Not going to lie," he says, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. "I have never been more confused in my life."
James snorts. "That says a lot coming from you."
Peter glares. "Oh fuck off," but there's no heat in it, and James gives him a half hearted smile before Lily clears her throat.
"Should we—uh—" she nods towards the map before looking at Peter and then James. "Or do you want to do this later?"
James shakes his head. They're already taking too long. He doesn't want to waste anymore time.
"Pete, mind giving us a minute? I'll meet you in the Great Hall yeah?"
Peter looks between James and Lily a few times before nodding. "Sure, yeah, okay," he looks like he's going to walk away but then pauses: "I'm glad you two have worked things out. It's always better when you're getting along."
James finds himself taken off guard but before he can think of a response Peter is already halfway out the door.
"Well," Lily sighs beside him, collapsing down into her chair. "That was...a lot."
"Yeah," James says, copying her. "Sorry."
She waves her hand, knocking his fears away. "So," she says eventually, "do you have the item for me? The one with the magical footprint?"
"Oh," James had almost forgotten. "Yeah I—yeah," as he reaches into his bag and feels his fingers brush the small wooden box at the bottom he finds himself infinitely grateful that Remus isn't there.
He brings it out carefully, reluctant to give it up when Lily reaches for it. He has the absurd desire to pull away, to tell her not to touch it. He does neither of those things, of course.
"This is beautiful," she says, before her eyes flick up to him. "Can I open it?"
He clears his throat. "Yeah," voice still rough. "Yeah, you can open it."
He sees confusion on her face as her eyes find the red ball inside, resting on its satin cushion. She stares at it for a few seconds before looking back at him. "I don't—"
"It's a Quaffle," he explains softly, ignoring the ache in his chest. Ignoring the memory of Regulus's face when he'd given it to him—how nervous he'd been, unsure, like James was ever going to do anything but love it.
"A Quaffle?" she repeats.
He nods. "Take it out."
She only hesitates for a minute before doing as he asked. As soon as she frees it it starts buzzing around her, causing a laugh to tumble from her lips. "Oh my God, it really is a tiny Quaffle."
James smiles back a little tightly "Yeah."
"I've never seen one of these before."
"You wouldn't have, he—er—he made it," James's nails have started to dig into his palms. He'd taken the Quaffle out every day over the break. Held it in his hand, watched it flutter around his room during the few moments he found himself alone. Everything about it reminds him of Regulus.
"Is this the—uh—the 'he' Sirius was talking about?" Lily asks tentatively.
James suddenly feels very vulnerable. Like he's had something pulled back and stripped away. He swallows with difficulty, trying to keep his voice casual. "Yeah," he meets her stare and doesn't know what she sees. Or what she thinks. Or if it's all written across his face.
You need to learn to hide yourself better,
Regulus said to him once.
Put on some armour every once and a while. You know, even brave men carry shields.
"Okay," Lily says eventually, carefully picking the ball out of the air and placing it back in its box. There's silence for a few seconds before she goes on. "If he did all the spell work on this than it should work really well. It'll help if I can get a feel for the signature do—I mean, would you mind if I kept this for a little while?"
Yes.
I mind.
It's him.
It's mine.
"No, that's fine. I figured you would need to," he shrugs, like those words don't choke him.
Lily nods. "Okay, thank you," there's another pause, she's bitting her lower lip as James fights every urge he has to snatch the wooden box back out of her hands. Eventually she reaches forward, squeezing his arm. "I'm gonna take good care of it."
He nods jerkily. "Thanks," in a voice so quiet Madam Pince would be proud.
"Of course," Lily ducks her head to meet his eyes. "We're going to find him okay?"
James laughs dryly. "You don't even know who he is."
Lily shrugs. "I know you care about him," she says simply. "I know he clearly cares about you," she nods towards the box.
Those words feel like pressing on a bruise.
"I didn't get him a Christmas gift," he says for some reason, voice too thick. He coughs, trying to clear his throat. "It slipped my mind, or it never occurred to me, I don't know. He went and made me that," he gestures at the Quaffle. "And I didn't even bother to—" his voice drops and after a few seconds finds itself again. "I got him something over the break, to make up for it, I was going to give it to him when we got back." He looks helplessly at Lily.
"You're still going to give it to him," she says, squeezing his arm. "Okay?"
He wants to believe her. Really he does.
"Yeah, okay. Thanks."
"Of course."
"No, I mean it. Thank you for..." he gestures at the books and parchment. "You didn't have to. Especially not after New Years."
She looks at him for a moment, something thoughtful in her eyes, maybe also a little sad. James doesn't want to think too much about that last thing. About wether or not he's the cause of it. He doesn't want Lily to be sad. Not ever.
"You remember what you said the other day, about being there for me? About believing me?"
James nods slowly. "Yeah, of course."
She gives him a small smile. "That goes both ways. I'm here for you. Always. I realize I'm not exactly a Marauder but, we can still have each others backs right?"
James feels something leap in his chest. "Yes, totally," and then, at a loss for anything else to say: "You're basically an honorary Marauder anyway."
That makes Lily laugh, loosening some of the tension in James's chest. "Does that mean I get a dumb nickname?" she asks.
James frowns. "Hey! We have very cool nicknames I'll have you know."
"Uh-huh. So what's mine then?"
His eyes run her over before the ghost of a grin starts pulling at his mouth. "Fox."
She arches her brow. "Fox? Is it because of my hair or because I'm exceedingly clever?"
He smirks, leaning forward. "It's because you, Lily Evans, are a stone cold fox."
The pair of them are able to hold a straight face for exactly five seconds before they both burst out laughing.
"I see your lines haven't improved," she says, choking back a giggle.
"Oi! I thought that one was pretty good!"
She snorts. "You're so corny Potter."
"Yeah, whatever, you were totally charmed. I could see it in your eyes."
"Keep dreaming."
"Miss Evans and Mr. Potter," Madam Pince's sharp voice slices through their giggling. "Am I going to have to kick you both out as well?" She tilts her head down, glasses sliding to the end of her pointed nose. She's always reminded James of a very grumpy bird.
"No ma'am," James calls back.
"We're just leaving Madam Pince." Lily says, already starting to pack her things away.
James feels his momentarily uplifted mood sink again as his eyes fall on the wooden box, as he watches her put it in her bag. Something must show on his face because Lily pauses.
"I promise I'll keep it safe," she reassures him again.
James looks at her quickly and then away. "I believe you," he gets to his feet, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Well, see you around I guess?"
She nods, sliding the last of her books into her own bag. "Yeah—tomorrow morning?"
"Tomorrow morning," James confirms.
They stand awkwardly for a moment, neither of them knowing what to do.
"Well..." James says eventually, giving her a half-wave before walking out of the library with his head down, feeling like he's just left part of himself behind in Lily Evan's book bag.
"What the hell is going on out there?"
James is breathing heavy, covered in sweat and looking out at a very defeated Gryffindor Quidditch team. They're halfway through their game against Ravenclaw and they're getting absolutely destroyed.
"This should be an easy win for us!" no one is making eye contact with him—well, except for Mary. "Start bloody communicating and open your fucking eyes. Watch what's going on around you, keep track of the other team. We're making sloppy mistakes out there people, come on!"
Silence greets these words and James sighs, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
"We can still win this," he says finally, earning him a snort from Mary that he decides to ignore. "But we need to wake the fuck up, alright?" more silence, James does his best not to scream. "I said: alright?"
"Yes captain," comes the less than enthusiastic response, but James is pretty sure that's the best he's going to get so he doesn't push the matter.
It's only a few moments later that Madam Hooch's disembodied voice calls them back out to the pitch. James waits by the door, trying to rally himself as much as his team, giving each of them a pat on the back or high-five as they pass.
"Sorry James," Marlene says when she gets to him.
"Nah don't be," he squeezes her shoulder. "Bad games happen right? We can still make finals even if we lose this one." As long as they win every other game by a substantial margin, but James doesn't say that bit. Marlene knows it anyway.
Mary is the last one in line.
"Save it," James says wearily.
But she, of course, does not.
"Half the players on this team are new," she starts, causing James to roll his eyes as he walks down the tunnel towards the Pitch. "We've barely played together, I was out most of first term, we need all the air time we can get."
"Yes, I'm aware of that, thank you."
"You royally screwed us here James—we can't communicate out there because we don't know how because you've been skiving off practices."
They walk out onto the sunny field, half the team already back in the sky, the stands cheering.
"Just play the fucking game Mary," he says, hands gripping his broom so tightly his knuckles are threatening to tear through his skin.
"You're personal life can't effect your game."
His head whips around so fast he's surprised his neck doesn't crack. "Leave my fucking personal life out of this."
She holds his stare for one challenging moment before shaking her head. "You know, the pros may be a guarantee for James Fleamont fucking Potter, but for the rest of us playing well here actually matters. So get your goddamn head out of your ass and pull it together."
With that she kicks off, speeding into the blue sky, a cursing James following behind. The problem is, as big of a pain in the ass as Mary is, he knows she's right. He's fucking this up. Seems to be a common theme with him lately.
They lose.
It's not a surprise. But it still stings.
James takes his time undressing. Takes even more time in the showers. He turns the heat up too high and rests his forehead against the tile and just...breathes. And waits. He's the captain, he shouldn't be in here hiding, he should be out there making sure his team is okay. Especially the younger players. Frank was always so good at that—at reassuring them all, making sure no one ate themselves alive with guilt. Quidditch is a team sport. They win together and they lose together. It never lands on just one person. That's what he should be out there saying, he just...he can't. Because this time the blame does fall on one person.
Him.
His skin is flushed and raw by the time he finally turns the shower off, wrapping a towel round his waist as he walks back into the changing room. His steps only stutter for a second when he finds someone in there waiting for him.
He sighs, walking over to his locker and pulling out his clothes. "Here to gloat?"
Mary snorts. "We're on the same fucking team, what the hell would I be gloating about?"
James shrugs, puling his boxers on under his towel before throwing it off. He should maybe feel more self-conscious about being practically naked in front of Mary but he isn't. He's known her since they were eleven. The novelty has warn off. Besides, they've always been more family than anything else.
"About being right," he says finally, he has his back to her, yanking his shirt over his head.
"Right about what?" Mary asks.
James sighs, leaning against his locker for a moment, feeling so utterly exhausted he can barely get his thoughts in order.
"About me being crap."
There's a beat of silence.
"You're not crap James."
He laughs without humour, pulling himself off the wall and turning to look at her. She's wearing sweatpants and an oversized jumper James is almost certain used to belong to Sirius.
"You having me on?"
She rolls her eyes. "God, you're so melodramatic. You're not crap. You know you're not. But you've dropped the ball the last two weeks, and I know you know that too."
He wants to fight back. Wants to argue. Wants her to be wrong.
"Yeah," he says resigned. "Yeah, I know."
He turns back to his locker and grabs a hold of his jeans, shoving his legs inelegantly inside.
"He didn't come back then?"
James instantly tenses. "Mary, I really don't have the energy to fight with you right now."
"I'm not trying to fight, I'm just trying to understand."
James sighs, only half believing her as he turns around and drops onto the bench. "No," he says slowly, resting his elbows on his thighs and clasping his hands together between his knees. "He didn't come back."
Mary nods slowly, her eyes raking over him in a way that only she can. Like she sees every dirty, broken inch of you. James has always thought she'd make a good Auror. Give a suspect a few minutes locked in a room with her and they'd start spilling their guts in no time.
"And you don't think that was his choice?" she asks eventually.
He grits his teeth, trying not to get short with her. "No. I don't think so."
Mary nods again, like she's had something confirmed. "Listen, if you need...I don't know, a break? A time-out? Whatever. That's fine," she leans forward even though they're a room apart. "Let me run some practices then, let me fucking help you. I'm a good player—"
"I know that," James says, entirely taken off guard by this turn in the conversation.
"Good," she holds his stare. "This matters to me James," she says with a level of sincerity that is uncommon for Mary. "It's my dream too. I want to win this year. Hell, I want to win next year. I want scouts to come here and watch us dominate."
James runs a hand over his face, "Yeah," he says finally. "Yeah me too." He shakes his head, laughing a little bit. "Okay, if I need to...if I can't be here I'll let you take over. I'm sorry that I—" he doesn't know how to finish that sentence, how to explain what a mess he's been since coming back to school and finding Regulus gone. "This matters to me too," he settles on.
Mary nods, getting to her feet. "I know, if I didn't think you cared I would have already overthrown you."
"Fuck, alright," James snorts. "Well, thanks for showing some restraint I guess."
"You're welcome."
He waits for her to head out, she looks like she's going to, but instead she just keeps standing there. Like she's trying to decide whether or not to say what she's thinking—which is odd for Mary, who always seems to say anything regardless of how rude or callous it might sound.
"Whatever it is, would you just ask it?" James says eventually. "Having you looming there is making me nervous."
Mary rolls her eyes but her expression is suddenly determined. "I'm only going to say this once so listen alright?"
"Er—alright?"
She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm—sorry."
James blinks, almost positive that he's misheard. "Did you just—"
"I told you I was only gonna say it once," she snaps, and James finds himself biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
"I don't take back what I said—well, except maybe the stuff about Lily—but I do take back the way that I said it. It wasn't—anyway," she shakes her head. "I'm a bitch but I'm not normally that much of a bitch."
James isn't entirely sure how to respond to that so eventually he just nods. "Yeah," he says, "I know."
Mary shoots him a dry smile. "Well look at us, working through our problems like adults. Go team."
James laughs. "Yeah, go team."
He's still smiling a little as he makes his way back up to the castle twenty minutes later, Mary having ditched him to go find Marlene. It'll be good honestly, having a little help with the team. He should have considered it earlier, Mary has always been one of the strongest players they have, and while he doesn't intend to make a habit of skipping out on practices, having a second opinion on what the team needs might be good. It's been a lot, doing it on his own. He's not sure how Frank managed it, but then, Frank had Alice.
"James! James!"
He looks up and finds Lily running towards him across the foyer, a couple other people turning to look too.
"Lily? What's—" he doesn't finish as she practically barrels into him, knocking the words out of his mouth as she skids to a stop, grabbing hold of his arms.
"It's working."
He blinks. "What?"
"The spell—the spell—it's working. Me and Remus were playing around with it earlier and we figured it out—"
"You figured it out and you didn't tell me?"
Lily makes an impatient noise. "You were already down at the Quidditch Pitch getting ready for the game and anyway, we were pretty sure it worked but we couldn't be certain because it only does something if the person you're trying to find is using magic. So Remus went to the game but I decided to stay behind and watch it and it just—it moved. It started moving."
It moved.
Those words find their way deep inside his chest.
Regulus is using magic.
He's okay.
He's okay.
"Where—show me," James starts walking even though he has no idea where he's going.
Lily grabs hold of his wrist and drags him down the corridor. It takes him a while before he realizes that she's taking him to the Prefects' office. To be fair, it's not a place he spends much time in.
With the wave of her wand she opens the door to the empty room, a few candles are lit here and there, two desks set up at the front for the Head Boy and Girl. There's also a sofa and some chairs, a half empty bookshelf, a coffee table covered in Honeydukes wrappers and old Witch Weekly magazines.
Lily drags him all the way across the room to a small table that's been pushed up against the window. He sees the familiar map and the small floating Quaffle except, unlike usual, it isn't flitting around, but instead hovering in one fixed spot over the map.
Lily stops dead in her tracks, eyes going wide. James pulls out of her grasp moving closer.
"He's here then, it's found him, he's..." he squints down at the map trying to identify the place the ball is currently marking. "He's...in the middle of the water?" James blinks, panic rising up inside him. His imagination assaults him with visions of Regulus just being dumped somewhere or left to drown, his family is psychotic so even though that sounds crazy they really might have done it. He tries to remind himself that they wouldn't have been able to find Regulus at all if he hadn't used magic and if he's using magic then he can't be lying at the bottom of the ocean dead, right? RIGHT.
"I don't understand," he can hear the tremor of fear in his voice as he turns to Lily for reassurance but doesn't find any. Her green eyes are wide as she stares at the map. "Maybe it's wrong, maybe the spell didn't work, huh? Maybe we need to try again?"
Eventually Lily swallows, looking up at him. Is that pity he sees in her gaze? Oh he doesn't like that, and neither does the fear currently writhing around in his chest.
"James," she says slowly, "that's the North Sea."
Right now James's brain isn't really working very well, too crowed with white noise and nightmare scenarios so he just nods, hoping she'll explain what that means. Why it has her looking at him like that.
"It's—James, fuck, I'm so sorry."
"No, please. Why? Don't be. What're you—"
She steps forward, hand circling his wrist, grounding him. "James," she says his name softly. He hates it. Sounds like the way you say someone's name before you tear their world apart.
"He's in Azkaban"