LIFE IS A masquerade. Everywhere you look, people hide behind masks and lies. People behind their chosen facades seldom change, but the masks always do and overtime, one can forget who they truly are. Lily Potter despised Dolores Umbridge, Cornelius Fudge and the Malfoy family (to name a few) for their perfidiousness -- she supposed it was just a natural quality of government officials. Of course, she excluded Arthur Weasley from that equation -- the Weasley patriarch was entirely himself and that was his most admirable trait -- but only a number of his colleagues could say the same. Lily expected honesty in the best and worst situations; it was why she held such high esteem and affection for Albus Dumbledore, who never lied or concealed anything from Harry and herself. So, when Lily Potter was summoned to the headmaster's office after receiving a note delivered by a younger student, her expression hardened and her lips formed a thin line.
The Minister of Magic wished to speak with her, and her alone.
Lily only returned from her week-long stay with Fred and George two days prior and although she had to say goodbye again, euphoria lingered from her time with them, with Fred. She believed nothing could ruin her good mood until she received the note and as she made her way down the main corridor in pursuit of the office, she berated herself repetitively for being so naive. Then, her thoughts traveled to a new inquiry: why wasn't Harry being summoned, as well? What did the new Minister of Magic want to speak to Lily about that Harry couldn't also hear or answer?
She glanced down at the slip of paper again and eyed the unusual password, "Toffee Eclair," and the gargoyle that guarded the entrance leapt aside and a moving staircase spiraled upwards. She stepped on and allowed it to take her up. As Lily reached the landing, stepped off of the stairs and edged towards the door, she found the Headmaster Dumbledore's office was unusually silent; void of the familiar buzzing of odd trinkets, the chatters of the portraits of old headmasters, and most of all, there were no voices. She rapped her knuckles on the door. At once one of the large doors creaked open and she entered the vast circular room to see Albus Dumbledore sitting in his usual seat behind the big oak desk and across him sat the new Minister of Magic. She was greeted kindly by Dumbledore, as always.
"Ah, Lily, thank you for joining us on such short notice."
The Minister gave what seemed like a snort, as if being a student at Hogwarts meant that Lily had nothing better to do.
"May I ask what this meeting is regarding?" she inquired.
The Minister stood from his chair and turned. He was a tall man leaning much of his weight onto a wooden cane in his grasp. Faded battle scars littered his sagging skin, but his sharp features and hardened eyes showed no sign of wear and tear.
"Miss Potter, I have heard much about you." This time, Lily scoffed. "Let me formally introduce myself: I'm Rufus Scrimgeour."
Lily shook his outstretched hand but pressed her lips together; she, unlike him as he stood with a poker face, clearly displayed her dislike of him.
"I wondered if I could speak with you for a few moments?"
"I gathered that." It took a lot of effort for her to add politely, "Sure."
Scrimgeour turned to Dumbledore, "May we have a few moments alone, Albus?"
For a moment, Lily saw a fire similar to her own burn his Dumbledore's soft blues, but with the nod of his head he stood from his seat. Lily furrowed her eyebrows; how was Dumbledore being sent out of his own office? The aged man walked around the desk and exited the room in the direction which Lily entered from.
"Please, sit." he gestured to the chair beside him and Lily obliged. "Miss Potter, I'm sure you are aware of the great effort the Ministry is putting into halting You-Know-Who before he can cause further damage...."
"I'm aware that the Ministry has kept many Azkaban breakouts quiet, that they've arrested innocent or Imperiused people so as to comfort and reassure the public of the Ministry's allegedly positive involvement."
To Lily's surprise, Scrimgeourdid not seemed surprised by her sarcasm and hostility. Was it possible that he had already spoken to Harry, who was more notorious for his outbursts of anger and sass?"
"I assure you, the Ministry--"
"--Oh, you don't need to assure me, Minister, you need to assure the witches and wizards of our community that they will soon be safe." said Lily, "But you must do that honestly, of course."
"I see you and your brother share the same disrespect for authority." he grumbled.
"Yes, well, we are twins, after all."
"I have heard you are the most reasonable out of the two of you."
"Flattery will get you no where, Minister." she continued, "Above all else, I value honesty and if you give that to me, I shall return it obligingly."
Scrimgeour shifted his cane between his hands and looked piercingly into Lily's eyes, "As I suggested to your brother not long ago, it would look wonderful if you both were spotted inside of the Ministry as advocates. It would bring great comfort to the public, which I think is what you want."
"I don't approve of the Ministry's methods." Lily raised her left hand where he scars from Umbridge's lines were still scarred into her skin, now fading. "And seeing as I'm here after you spoke with Harry, I assume he agrees."
Scrimgeour grunted, "You would be assuming correctly."
Lily leaned forward and looked at the man with her piercing green eyes, "Give it to me straight, Minister. What do you want from us?"
For a moment, Scrimgeour closed his mouth and formed his lips in a thin line as he contemplated his next words. Lily sat back in her seat and watched him; a vein was protruding in his forehead and his knuckles turned white as his grip on the handle of his cane tightened.
"What is Dumbledore up to, Miss Potter?" he inquired, "Where does he go when he leaves the school?"
Lily laughed curtly, "I don't know."
Scrimgeour decided she was telling the truth, "And if you did, you wouldn't tell me, would you?"
Behind him, Fawkes the Phoenix sat lazily on or extravagant wooden perch. Her red and golden feathers popped out against the dullness of the quiet setting behind her. She wondered whether the trinkets and items worked according to Dumbledore's mood...it would explain a lot. Even the paintings of previous Hogwarts headmasters, which covered the very top of the walls around the room, were vacant. This angered Lily; Scrimgeour did not want any witnesses to hear his line of questioning.
"You would be correct."
Scrimgeour stood abruptly with anger etched into his sunken face, "You're Dumbledore's confidant through and through, aren't you!?"
Fire erupted in Lily's bones at his hostility, at the vulgarity infused into his words. She also stood and reached only up to his chin in height. "Yes, actually, I am."
With a string of muttered curses, he set off for the door and Lily saw the occupants of the headmasters painting creep back into their frames. Without a big of farewell of final acknowledgement, Rufus Scrimgeour exited the office and left Lily to await Dumbledore's return. She glanced at the grandfather clock to her right and made out the unusual moons and hands; she only had half an hour to be at Professor Slughorn's cordial dinner. Surely enough, the moving staircase lurched again and Dumbledore came through the door which Scrimgeour left ajar.
"I apologize for being unable to warn you of his arrival." he said, walking towards his desk once more. "It came as an unexpected surprise for me, as well."
As he sat down, Lily leaned against a chair opposite him. "How do you feel about the new Minister, Professor?"
"Well, Scrimgeour is very capable of the job and being an ex-Head of the Auror department, he knows not to underestimate Voldemort."
"No, he just covers up the catastrophic events he leaves behind." she scoffed.
The corners of his mouth twitched, "Precisely."
A moment of silence fell between them and Lily ignored the ticking clock behind her. Her eyes were fixated on Dumbledore's blackened hand: it appeared to be charred, dead, and the sight of it was revolting. Dumbledore caught her gaze but if she was curious, like Harry also was, he wouldn't know, for she averted her gaze to Fawkes.
"Lily, if I may ask, what did you talk to Rufus about?"
"He wanted Harry and I to act as poster boy and girl for the Ministry." she replied and he seemed very interested. "It will comfort the public, he said, that's just what you want, he said. He has no clue what I want.l
"I assumed he would say something of the sorts." nodded Dumbledore.
"He accused me of being Dumbledore's confidant through and through."
"How very rude of him."
"I told him I was." Lily looked up at Dumbledore and saw the man looking hastily down at his lap with watery eyes. She bit her lip.
"I am very touched, Lily."
***
Lily walked through the corridors in pursuit of Professor Slughorn's office, the clicking of her heels meeting the floor echoed around her. She wore a short cut dress that reached her knees; it was fitted with the top half a solid black and the bottom, a a tawny brown. Harry would be pleased to find out that this dress was less revealing than the one she wore at the grand opening of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Speaking of Weasley, as Lily waltzed down the corridor and turned the corner, Ginny caught up with her. The younger girl wore a dark green-blue dress that made Lily realize why she was so popular and was sought after by boys.
"Hey, Lily." she greeted with a small sniffle, "I guess you're just as late as I am."
Lily paused in her step, looked at Ginny and saw that her eyes were red and puffy and there were tear stains on her cheeks. A sudden protective anger welled up in Lily at the sight of her. "What happened?"
"It's nothing." she shook her head and moved to walk again but Lily grabbed her arm.
"Is it Dean?" Lately, Hermione told Lily that Ginny and Dean Thomas were in a rough patch, but of course, Lily wouldn't know as she spent so much of her time outside of the castle. "You've been fighting again."
Ginny hastily wiped at her eyes, "Is it obvious."
"You're eyes are red and puffy and you sound like you have a cold."
"I appreciate your honesty."
Lily rolled her eyes and wiped the drying tears away with the pads of her thumbs. She looked into her blue eyes; they reminded her of Fred and George and Ron. "Do I need to beat someone up?"
"I have older brothers for that." she chuckled.
"Well, I'm quite sure Ron would love to team up with me."
"I'm sure he would."
"Are you okay to go in?" Lily asked. When Ginny nodded, the pair continued down the corridor until they reached Slughorn's office. From behind the closed door, they heard Hermione.
"Although, one boy, Robby Fenwich, did bite my father once." she chuckled, "He needed ten stitches."
Lily chuckled as Ginny pushed the door open. Every head turned to look at them and Ginny flushed.
"Ah, Miss Weasley, Miss Potter." greeted Slughorn, "Come in, come in."
Hermione leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear as she examined Ginny, "Look, her eyes. They've been fighting again." at Harry's confused expression, "Her and Dean."
"Sorry, I'm not usually late." muttered Ginny.
"Nor am I." Lily chimed in. She watched Harry stand abruptly from his seat and when he met Ginny's eyes, Lily did her very best to suppress her grin. They were into each other.
"No matter, just in time for dessert." said Slughorn as the girls took their seats around the large table. "That is if Belby has left you any."
The dinner party was soon over and the students present exited Slughorn's office, full and content. The Potters stayed behind as Harry convinced Lily that the time was right to start questioning Professor Slughorn. Lily was clearing the table by magic as Harry gazed at a peculiar large hourglass which sat on the professor's desk.
"Harry!" greeted Slughorn.
"I'm sorry, sir," he sputtered, "I was
just admiring your hourglass."
A few feet away, Lily listened intently. Slughorn nodded and eyed the hourglass, "Ah yes, most intriguing object. The sand runs in accordance with the quality of the conversation. It is stimulating, the sand runs slowly...if it is not..." the sand was running quickly.
"I think we'll be going, then." said Lily as she joined them.
"Nonsense. You have nothing to fear, dear Potters." he waved it off with a gleeful smile, "Actually, some of your classmates...well, let's just say they're unlikely to make the shelf."
"Shelf, sir?" inquired Harry.
Slughorn was happy to talk about the topic, apparently, as he approached a shelf full of framed photographs. "Anyone who aspires to be anyone hopes to end up here." he turned to them, "But then again, you both already are someones, aren't you?"
"Did Voldemort ever make the shelf, sir?" Harry went for the dice and Lily was prepared to drown him. He sputtered. "You knew him, didn't you, sir? Tom Riddle? You were his teacher."
"Mr. Riddle had a number of teachers who was here at Hogwarts." this conversation did not appeal to him.
"What was he like?"
"I'm sorry, sir. Forgive my brother." said Lily. She scowled at herself; she was doing exactly what she despised: she was putting up a facade. "It's just,....he killed our parents."
"Of course, it's only natural you should want to know more." he nodded with a frown, "But I'm afraid I must disappoint you. When I first met young Mr. Riddle, he was a quiet, albeit brilliant boy, committed to becoming a first-grade wizard. Not unlike others I've known. Not unlike yourselves, in fact." he sighed, "If the monster existed, it was very deep within."
The Potters found that very hard to believe, indeed. It was clear to them that Professor Slughorn was in denial, but the question was why. Why are this man's memories so important to the cause? What set Horace Slughorn apart from the rest of the teachers so much that Tom Riddle trusted him enough to ask about such dark magic?
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"So, big brother, when are you going to make your move?"
Harry and Lily Potter strolled through the grounds of Hogwarts as the sun set and the sky bled a periwinkle twilight. This, as it turned out, was against the new rules set in place for student safety -- Harry was not surprised by Lily's carelessness. She had a knack for that lately. She also had taken a liking to the topic of Harry's love life, much to his dismay.
"What?"
"We may be different in many ways, Harry Potter, but you are still my twin." said Lily, "I can read you like an open book."
"Are you sure I'm not just unguarded?"
She chuckled wryly, "You and I don't have to luxury of being unguarded." as quickly as her bitterness had come, it left. "But don't change the subject. What's up with you and Ginny?"
Harry rolled his eyes to show his irritation at the mention of it, but he was really trying to wrack his brain for an answer instead. What was with him and Ginny? Was there any chemistry between them? He sighed as he recalled the small melancholic girl holding her mother's hand as she watched her elder brothers leave for Hogwarts with out her. And then again, when he saved her from the conserved memory of Tom Riddle down in the hidden Chamber of Secrets...Ginny Weasley matured so much since then. Being possessed by Voldemort does that to a person, Harry thought bitterly.
"I don't know, honestly." he shrugged, "I mean, I fancy her and I think she fancies me, too, but she's with Dean."
"Yeah, well, I'm this close to cutting off Dean's junk, so he may not be a problem any longer."
She was bemused to see Harry seemed elated at this idea. How could she blame him, anyway? The prat made Ginny cry not once nor twice, but numerous times in this week alone. "He just doesn't know what he's got and he'll be sorry when he loses her."
"Dean's a decent guy, but I think you're wrong." at his bewilderment, Lily continued on as she kicked up weeds. "It takes a lot to really see someone for who they are, to see what makes them ordinary and extraordinary. You have to love with a love that's more than love. Anyone who does, knows what they've got. Anyone who doesn't, well, they never really had them, did they?
"I suppose not." Harry very much liked his sister's position in the school as a Prefect because as the sky grew darker, his worries of being caught after curfew did not grow with it. Beside him, Lily continued to kick up weeds subconsciously as they began to walk over the bridge back to the castle. "So, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"When did you become so poetic and heartfelt?"
She chuckled, "Do you really want to know?"
He hesitated for a moment. There was always something hidden in Lily's agenda and he was surely not going to like her response. "Yes."
She paused in her tracks and leaned against one of the many stone columns, "The night Cedric Diggory died."
There were plenty of names for that night: the night Voldemort returned, the third task, the night in the graveyard, the night when they finally faced there unwinding fate. But she chose those words...why?
"Oh..."
"I get it, Harry." she chuckled, I'm the gloomy twin, the one who always thinks of the worst."
"That wasn't what I was thinking, actually." he responded and joined her. "I was wondering why that night, out of all of our encounters with him."
"Because that night marked the first fatality of someone we cared about -- at least, one that we can remember." she pursed her lips. "His death leads the lost lives that string along still." she sighed and began to walk again, "Cedric's death opened my eyes so I finally snapped out of the childish fantasy I had concocted in my head: that Voldemort would only aim to harm us, to kill us."
He was astonished. For someone as brilliant and clever as Lily, he never imagined her to think so daftly. Their parents had died for them, for heaven's sake!
"I know," she caught the expression on his face before he could wipe it away, "It was a stupid thing to think. I think I knew it all along and just didn't want to face it."
"It's understandable." he nodded. "I hate it, as well, but who wouldn't?"
She nodded. A silence fell between them as they strolled over the last of the bridge and met grass again. Up ahead, the set of side doors were shut to block out the gusty, chilly wind. To their far right, the Quidditch pitch on the top of the nearest hill was a silhouette against the increasingly dark sky. Tomorrow would be Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the year and the twins were sure that Ron was up in the dormitory, stressing over it.
"Do you think that if I had five names," began Lily. Harry already rolled his eyes and began to laugh before she reached the middle of her sentence -- she was always one to end a gloom with a joke. "It would make me more poetic?"
"Would you give that up, already?" he chuckled, "It's been over a year."
She ignored him, "Dumbledore has five names and the crap that comes out of his mouth is beautiful and enlightening."
"Lily Potter, I will--"
"See." she huffed, "It doesn't sound epic."
"Give it a rest." He tried his best to sound exasperated but could not keep a sheepish grin from his face as they entered the castle and walked through the dimly lit corridors.
"You know what, I'd settle for four names." Lily said quietly, "Four names is curious enough. No one would suspect someone with four names."
Harry quirked an eyebrow, "How so?"
"Because there would be an amazing story for each name. No one would do make those up unless they were the real deal."
"I suppose." he responded in order to change the subject. When they reached the Hall of Stairs and stumbled onto the right one, it lurched beneath them as it swayed towards the landing that led to the Gryffindors portrait. "So, are you ready for Quidditch tomorrow?"
"Yeah, of course." she nodded. Harry uttered the password and the Fat Lady's portrait swung open, bidding them entrance to the common room. The wood crackled within the fireplace as the fire died down and sitting in a squashy armchair as the light of the flames danced in his red hair, Ron Weasley sat with his nose in a book: How to Beat a Beater at Quidditch. Under her breath, she whispered, "I think the real question is: is Ron?"
"Oi, it's no use trying to cram that into your brain now." said Harry. "Besides, you don't need it."
"I don't know when you decided to live under a rock, but if you haven't noticed," Ron slammed his book shut, "I'm bloody terrible."
"No, you aren't." said Lily. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, daring him to contradict. He did.
"Yes, I am. I miss half of the shots I throw." he sighed and threw the book down onto the table. A frown played upon his face as he raked a hand through his flaming hair. "And I always mess up when they start singing that stupid song....whatever, I'll see you in the morning. I'm going to have one last good night of sleep before I'm taunted for the remainder of the year."
They watched him go in silence, unable to scrape up words of encouragement that would suffice. When his shadow disappeared, Harry frowned and turned to his sister. "We have to do something, or it will cost us the match."
Despite their many other important problems that would surely last until the end of their days, Harry and Lily agreed: they needed to win tomorrow's match. It was the first match of the season and after weeks of scheduled practices coaches by the two of them, they needed to prove that they were worthy of the co-captain positions. If they lost tomorrow's match, Harry would probably crawl under the covers of his bed and stay there forever. Lily just dreaded thinking of the expression on Professor McGonagall --and even Hagrid's -- face if they lost.
"I have an idea." he said after a moment
"Okay..." she sat down on the arm of the chair Ron occupied moments ago and beckoned for him to continue.
"It's completely crazy."
"I love crazy." she said.
"And it's risky."
"Pfft," she snorted, "I live on the edge. I can do risky."
"Alright. Knowing you, you and the twins have many connections around school." at her nod, he continued, "I need you to use them, as many as you can. We need to spread the word: everyone needs to root for Ron."
"And what are you going to do?"
"Well, I'm going to go upstairs and rummage through my sock drawer for a bit." he stood, "Maybe I'll come across a bit of luck."
And the Potters grinned for they knew exactly what the other was thinking. As they parted ways and headed up to their respective dormitories, Harry couldn't help but smile. He missed spending time with his sister, he missed the fun they used to have when times were easier, happier. As he changed into his pajamas and crawled under the scarlet blankets of his bed, Ron's snores louder than the others who slumbered in the dark room. Harry stopped tossing over as he found comfort, but remained wide awake. Ron's snores stopped abruptly soon after and Harry knew that he, too, was wide awake; probably stressing over the match approaching in a few hours time. But the Potters had a plan and their plans almost always worked. So, then, as Harry laid there staring at the canopy of his bed, why wasn't he reassured?
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The next morning, Lily was the last the descended the steps from her dormitory, fully dressed in her Gryffindor Quidditch gear. Her wavy blanket of auburn hair was tied up in a ponytail, outlining her sharp cheekbones. She had to admit: she liked the look of the Quidditch Captain patch on her arm. She crossed through the common room and paused at the doorway, searching for a particular young man with dark hair and green eyes. Lily spotted him as she stepped out of the common room, into the corridor just outside: Neville Longbottom strolled just a little ways ahead in the direction of the staircase that would lead him down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
"Neville!"
She jogged to catch up with him and he halted in his step to meet her. She gave him a lopsided smile, "G'morning."
"Good morning." he smiled warmly. "Ready for the match today?"
"You bet." she grinned.
"I'll be rooting for Ron, by the way." he said, "Word travels fast around here. Half a dozen paintings were passing along the word in this corridor alone. I guess being one of the Weasley Three pays off."
Neville didn't appear envious at this fact as he would have years ago. The Longbottom boy changed a lot over the course of the year; his jet black hair was trimmed short and he lost all of his baby fat and chubbiness. Lily found herself looking at the broad-shouldered, sharp-featured face of the Neville Longbottom she knew was within him on the first day they met. He noticed her staring, shuffled his weight onto his other leg and licked his lips awkwardly. Lily was happy to know that his shy persona had not changed with his appearance.
"Neville, I was wondering..." they continued their stroll through the corridor and made their way to the Hall of Stairs. "Professor Slughorn is hosting a Christmas party, you know, black tie and formalities and all of that...."
When the stairs lodged into place, they stepped off and followed a few Hufflepuffs towards the entrance to the Great Hall. Outside, thin sheets of snow sparkle in the sun and only a cloud or two interrupted the blue blanket of the sky and Lily took that as a lucky sign for the Quidditch match quickly approaching.
"I ask as a best friend, of course,..." it was quite funny to see Lily and Neville swap personas in that awkward moment. "Would you go with me?"
Neville looked at her in sight surprise, "Really? You're inviting me, of all people?"
Lily smiled to herself as she recalled a time long ago when matters were as simple as hoping the first-year Potions Professor would like her.
An eleven-ear-old Lily Potter approached the chubby dark-haired boy seated by himself. "Hey. It's Neville, right? Neville Longbottom?"
The young Neville spluttered, for he would have never thought that a legend such as Lily Potter herself would talk to him, much less know his name.
"Y-Yeah." He nodded.
"I'm--"
"--Lily Potter. I know who you are." He cut her off, "You and Harry are legends in our world."
"Right...I forgot about that..." She bit her lip, "Well, since you know who I am, I think it is only fair that I get to know you. Would you like the join us for breakfast?"
"Really?" queried Neville, "You want to hang out with me?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
Lily suppressed her grin, paused in the grand archways of the Great Hall and looked at him. She realized that he also grew in height; they were the same height in their first few years at school, but he now stood at least five inches taller. "Why wouldn't I?"
Her response brought back similar memories for him and he chuckled. "Okay, if you really want me to. It'd be an honor."
"No, no." she shook her head. Behind Neville, she saw a group of Ravenclaw girls snorting and giggling at them, as if the thought of the Potter girl and Neville as friends was a stupidly far-fetched idea. She ignored them. "You're my best friend, Neville. Besides, if anything, I'm grateful that you want to go."
"I'm actually surprised Fred doesn't have some clever plan to break into the school to be your date."
"Hogwarts is under maximum security." she pointed out.
"Do you really think that would stop him?"
The corners of her mouth twitched at the thought of her boyfriend attempting to swoop down from the sky on a broomstick, waving a white flag so as not to be spelled down from the sky. "No, no I suppose not."
The girls at the Ravenclaw table giggled louder, all of them gazing humorously at the unlikely pair. Lily saw something like a frown flash on Neville's face. Of course, he could be the best of friends with the Potters, hell, he was taking Lily to the exclusive Christmas party, and still he would not be good enough for them. Even after all the change Neville went through, she could see he was still affected by the belittlement and her anger grew.
"I'll catch up with you in a few." she gave him a faux smile, her eyes glued dangerously on the girls -- fifth years?
"Okay. But if you don't, good luck with the match." he grinned. "Oh, and I'll be sure to back into the groove, you know," and right there, he shuffled his feet and spun around smoothly. When he achieved in getting a laugh out of her, he gave her a goofy smile and walked over to the Gryffindor table.
Lily approached the girls and sat down on the empty space at the edge with her best poker face. She grabbed a waffle from the stack on a platter in the middle of the table in front of them, took a bite out of it and relished in their petrified silence as she munched on it.
"Okay, girls, just by the looks of you I can tell you're intelligent. Clearly not intelligent enough to avoid pissing me off, but that's okay -- I'm like a pipe bomb at times." she spoke maddeningly. The expressions on their girls faces would have had the others howling with laughter on the floor. "So listen: I'm intolerant of bullying and rude mockery, but being a Prefect and all, I cannot make an unnecessary scene."
Two of the girls exchanged glances that told Lily they knew she could and would do exactly that if she wanted -- she has done it many times before, after all. The third girl spoke up.
"We didn't mean anything terrible, if that's what you were thinking." She purses her lips and began to laugh, "It's just, that Neville Longbottom--"
"--that Neville Longbottom happens to be one of my best best friends. He's loyal, kind and braver than you all could ever be." said Lily. She took another bite of her waffle. "It's no matter, I'm sure you won't do it again." It sounded more like a demand then an inquiry.
She stood up, "Oh, and I almost forgot: don't forget to root for Ron Weasley today."
When Lily joined her brother and best friends at their house table, Ron was dressed in his Quidditch gear and look as thought he wished to shrink back into it.
"You okay, Ron?" asked Lily. Before the pessimistic words left his mouth as she need they would, Seamus Finnigan passed by.
"I'm counting on you, Ron." he said, "I've got two games on Gryffindor, ya?
"Be good, Ron." said Parvati Patil.
When a Slytherin boy, Theodore Nott, overheard the encouragements, he scoffed, "Loser!" Harry noticed, a second after Lily cough, Theodore Nott's face smashed into his plate of food and he groaned and clutched his nose.
"So how was it, then?" grumbled Ron.
"How was what?" inquired Harry.
"Your dinner party?" clarified Ron. He pushed his plate of eggs, bacon and toast away. Lily's mouth dropped open at the sight of Ron refusing food, but was elbow in the ribs by Harry before she could voice this observation.
"Pretty boring actually." said Hermione, who passed the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet over to Lily for further scrutinization. A small smirk formed on her lips, "But I think Harry enjoyed dessert."
Harry flushed at this but Ron did not take notice. Instead, he muttered out an "Oh yeah?" and fixated his gaze on the back of the Prophet for any sort of distraction from his bundle of nerves.
"Slughorn's having Christmas, do you know?" mentioned Hermione, quite awkwardly, "I'm about to bring someone."
"I expect you'll be bringing McLaggen." he said bitterly, "He's in the Slug Club, isn't he?"
"Actually, I was going to ask you."
"Really?" he began, but a sound barely escaped her lips when Lavender Brown, with her coiled dirty blonde hair and long lashes, waltzed up to them.
"Good luck today, Ron." she beamed, "I know you'll be brilliant."
As she skipped off, Ron gulped and turned a shade of green. "I'm resigning. After today's match, McLaggen can have my spot."
"Juice?" offered Harry.
He shrugged, "Sure."
Luna Lovegood and August Black walked up to them and sat down. August was grinning to himself, but there was no reason to inquire about it: Luna wore a huge lion hat around her head to root for Gryffindor, as they were playing against Slytherin today. Even Ron couldn't resist grinning at the peculiar sight.
"Hello, everyone." greeted Luna as August grabbed a piece of crunchy bacon. Out of the corner of her eyes, Lily saw Harry produce something from his pocket and leaned forward while everyone's eyes were still upon Luna's headdress. The blonde, however, took notice. "You look dreadful, Ron. Is that why you put something in his cup?" Harry hastily shoved the item back into his pocket as they all looked at him. "Is it a tonic?"
"Liquid luck." realized Hermione.
"Wait, it's real?" gaped August, "I thought you were messing with me."
Ron eyed his glass of orange juice longingly and gripped his hand around it as an inner battle waged war inside him. Should he drink it and perform gloriously in the match? His grip tightened. Or should he take his chances and hope that their many practices paid off?
"Don't drink it, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed scrupulously, "You could be expelled for that."
"What are we talking about?" inquired Luna. August filled her in quietly.
Was he going to drink the Felix Felicis and win undoubtedly, gloriously? He raised the glass and glanced at Harry, who wore the best poker face he had seen in him yet. Beside him, Hermione watched with a dreaded expression and on the other side of Harry, Lily grinned. He tipped the glass back and swallowed the orange juice in four big gulps.
"Come on, Harry, Lily," he made a point to set the glass down firmly and grinned a grin that reached his ears. "we've got a game to win!"
Ron jumped eagerly out of his seat and as the Potter scrambled out of theirs, Lily saw Harry tuck the full phial of the golden liquid luck into his interior breast pocket. Hermione did not see this and grabbed Harry's arm, "You could be expelled for that!"
Harry looked at her stupidly, "Dunno what you're talking about." and he winked at Luna, who smiled a curious smile in return.
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If asked, Lily would not be able to recall the events that occurred as she and the rest of the team discussed last-minute strategies in the dressing room, or when they walked confidently out into the Quidditch pitch. As Neville still possessed his shy persona, Lily also held onto her anxiety about winning the matches. As it was the first match of the season, the first match with her brother and herself as co-captains, it was important. They needed to beat the opposing house team, they needed to win by a hell of a lot to raise the standards higher than anyone could expect -- of course, this hardened determination had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they were playing against Slytherin.
The game began smoothly, quietly, with a few small points scored here and there. Lily took notice to the fact that Draco Malfoy was not present as Slytherin Seeker and was instead replaced by Harper. Harry also took notice and Lily sighed upon seeing the gears in his head turning because she knew it had nothing to do with Quidditch. She saved a goal, then another and possibly missed one, but took no notice to the fact that she barely blocked more than five attempts as she was lost in thought. No, she didn't noticed until the crowd began to sing wonderfully and encouragingly in sync,...
"Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He didn't let the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King!"
Instantly, a Slytherin chased snatched the Quaffle and rushed en masse toward Gryffindor's end, weaving and passing with wicked skill, culminating in a vicious, slicing shot on goal. With a smirk, Lily readied herself to block the Quaffle but Ron streaked out of nowhere and sent the Quaffle screaming in the opposite direction.
"WEASLEY!"
"WEASLEY!"
"WOOHOO, GO RON!" hollered Neville from down below. Harry glanced in his direction and saw Hermione clap reluctantly as she shook her head disapprovingly. Their eyes locked and she gave him a reproachful look but he soon turned away and resumed his search for the Snitch.
"WEASLEY!"
"WEASLEY!"
Lily swooped down to the left hoop and kicked a Quaffle away. It collided with a Bludger and came soaring back, but before it gained momentum Ron smacked it out of the sky and let out a confident, prideful shout.
"Weasley can save anything,
He hit the Bludger, a single swing!
That's why Gryffindors all sing:
Weasley is our King!"
Ginny paused on her broom, stunned, "What's gotten into him?" She glanced up at Harry, circling high above and he grinned. Just then, Dean streaked by and popped his happily bubble.
"Ginny! Let's go!" Instantly, she rolled
backward, jetted off and raced down her fellow Chasers. On the far wing, Dean flew in spread formation, Dean started the Quaffle up the line until it landed in Ginny's hand. She pitched herself into a wide slide to avoid a pair of whistling Bludgers and leaned recklessly off of her broom. Lily knocked another Quaffle in the opposite direction as Ginny whipped the Quaffle through the opposer's goal, untouched.
As the crowd scream happily, singing the Weasley is Our King tune that Lily was sure would be remember for years, Harry red the Gryffindor section were Luna's lion hat roared and Lavender, a few rows behind, clapped enthusiastically for Ron. Hermione also took notice and sat with her arms crossed, a look of supreme annoyance on her face. Harry grinned and jetted off.
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The Gryffindor Quidditch team retreated happily back to the tower for nice hot showers after winning the particularly brute match against Slytherin. When Lily emerged from her shower, she wrote a letter to Fred as she did every night, informing him of the victorious win all thanks to Ron, mostly. After she enclosed an animate photograph of Ron being hoisted up by the crowd of happy Gryffindors, she sent Caspian off with the letter and gave him a treat for the flight. Just as she shut the window behind him, the walls vibrated as music began to play in the common room -- a party.
She exited her room and walked down the hallway when she found one of the dormitory doors wide-open. Rolled up balls of parchment were being checked at the door and unable to suppress her curiosity, Lily stuck her head into the room. Seated on a bed opposite the door was Sage Riley, a second year Gryffindor and little sister to Sloane Riley, the spunky fourth year Lily knew well. She was surrounded by a pile of outstretched parchments and textbooks.
"Everything okay?"
Sage looked up at the doorway and heaved a sighed, "No."
"May I come in?" when Sage nodded, Lily entered. "What's wrong?"
"History of Magic, that's what's wrong! I can't get any of these stupid notes to stick in my head and I have a test tomorrow!" she scowled at the papers around her. "And Professor Binns isn't any good. He's a ghost, he doesn't care if we get it or not."
"Sloane wouldn't help you?"
"Sloane's at the party. Besides, I'm pretty sure she'd rather party than tutor me for hours." the young blonde sighed, "She did all of this already."
"I've known your sister long enough to know that she'd happily help you with it." said Lily as she glanced at the notes. "I would offer my own help, but I may know someone better at the subject than I."
"Really?"
"Yeah, my god-brother, August. He has a knack for it." she nodded, "I can ask if he'd be willing to help you cram?"
"Would you do that?" she gazed at her with big blue eyes, "I'd love that!"
"I'll go see." Lily nodded. Of course, being the sweetheart that he is, August agreed to help the young girl and retreated to his dormitory to retrieve his own things before Lily disenchanted the stairs for him to ascend. After he left, Lily turned to the raging party that consumed the entire common room. Ron was being carried on Seamus and Dean's shoulders as everyone cheered for him, ("Weasley! Weasley!", "Way to go, mate!", "Good game, Ron!", "You were fantastic today, Ron!") and in the corner, Harry and Hermione stood watching together. Lily joined them just in time to hear Hermione berate Harry as he grinned at Ron, who relished the spotlight.
"You shouldn't have done it."
"I know." said Harry sarcastically, "I supposed I could have just used the Confundus charm."
"That was different." she reasoned, "That was try-outs, this was a natural game."
Hermione looked to Lily for her take on the mater, but the auburn-haired girl deliberately joined the cheering and chanting of another verse of Weasley Is Our King. Hermione pursed her lips. Harry reached into his breast pockets and drew from it the small teardrop-shaped phial of Liquid Luck, which was indeed full to the brim with golden liquid.
Hermione gaped at it, "You didn't put in?Ron only thought you did."
He smirked, slipped it back into his pocket and turned to the lively crowd again. In the center, overlooked by everyone surrounding them, Ron and Lavender kissed wildly.
A grin formed on Harry's face at the sight, but when Lily elbowed him, they turned and saw Hermione retreat from the common room. They exchanged glances before following after her, all the way down the stairs to Gryffindor's vacant showcasing room. There Hermione sat on the cold steps, wiping her eyes as tear leaked from them. Over their heads, pastel pink and purple birds tweeted and twittered about the room. She noticed them and hastily wiped at her eyes.
"Charm spell." she sniffled, "Just practicing."
"They're very good." he remarked. He sat down beside her and Lily sat beside him.
"How does it feel, Harry? When you see
Dean with Ginny?" she sniffled and looked into his green eyes. "I know. I see the way
you look at her. You're my best friend."
Lily stared at her lap as Hermione spoke so hopelessly. She had known for years that there was chemistry between Ron and Hermione, and then later, Harry and Ginny. Of the quartet, she realized that only she was in a happy relationship. Should she have felt bad about being happy with Fred, while her best friends sulked through their days, hoping to be noticed by their love interests in a new light? Giggles and laughter grew louder as someone grew closer to the room and the door on the other wall opened to reveal a scandalous-looking Ron and Lavender. Their hands were entwining and she giggled flirtatiously.
"Oops!" Lavender squealed, "I think this room's taken."
She inched out of the room and waited for Ron outside of the door as he looked behind. His good mood made him oblivious to the reality of the scene before him. "What's with the birds?"
With a newfound anger to drown her melancholy, Hermione stood and glared profusely at Ron. "Oppugno."
The twittering birds flew into formation and flew right for Ron. He tumbled back in bewilderment and narrowly missed being struck as the birds instead hit the wall and erupted into colorful feathers. Clearly noticing that he was not wanted there, in addition to Lavender's calls, Ron exited the room and Hermione collapsed back onto the stairs. Tears cascaded down her flushed cheeks and as she sniffled, Harry inched closer to her and wrapped his arm around her. She cried on his shoulder and Lily watched Harry frown at the floor.
"It feels like this."
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Some nights later, a cloaked figure trekked through sheets of snow that covered the streets of Hogsmeade village. The night was a dark one, the moon was hidden behind a cluster of gray clouds which threatened rainfall and the air was harshly cold. In the shadows of the street lamps, the cloaked man was a dark silhouette to blend into the night. He slowed in his pace upon reaching a pub, The Three Broomsticks, and entered. The place was mostly empty, apart from the party of goblins in a far corner and a seated individual at the counter of the bar. The man weaved through the tables and chairs and joined the individual, an auburn-haired girl he had become so fond of.
"Why did you ask me here, Sev?" inquired Lily Potter.
Severus Snape lowered his hood and took a seat right beside her. His lips barely formed a smile as she looked at him, but she knew him well enough, she knew it was there. He waved for Madame Rosemerta to take their orders and as she began to make her way over to them, Snape looked at his goddaughter.
"I figured you should have one fond memory of us in your life." he said in an voice without a sneer or a bored tone. It was light and caring. "Besides, I'm determined to see you through at least one milestone in your life."
Lily found this statement quite peculiar, but her curiously outweighed her apprehension as Madame Rosemerta approached with a quill and notepad. "What can I get you?
"Two glasses of Firewhisky, if you please." she nodded and a grin formed on Lily's face. "And a glass of water, as well --"
"You don't think I can handle it?" she crossed her arms.
He was bemused, "Alright, just two Firewhiskey, please."
Madame Rosmerta nodded and walked behind the bar to prepare their drinks with no questions asked. Business was bad these days now that security was so high -- she welcomed any sort of business.
"So, I think you've forgotten that I'm underaged." said Lily.
"You're practically there. Besides, you've broken the rules for just about everything else." he responded. Lily licked her lips and looked in between his eyes so he could not decipher her thoughts with Legillimency -- thoughts of tangled blankets, sweaty bodies and a thrilling night. "You haven't had Firewhiskey before, have you?"
"No, I think that may be the one underaged rule that I have not broken."
"I don't know if I should find that reassuring or not."
Lily shrugged and glanced at the silky wine-purple cloak which he slung over the back of his stool chair. "Lovely cloak."
He smiled at a distant memory, "It was a gift. I've had it for many years."
"It doesn't seem a day old."
"Oh, you would be surprised."
It was early in the morning on July 31st in the year of 1980. It was a hot and muggy even at the early hour in which Severus Snape walked up the quiet street to the last lot on the block. The lot was made up of only rubble of an old home and overgrown weeds and vines snaked over it, but he knew better, he knew his eyes were deceiving him. Or rather, magic, to be exact. He paused just on the sidewalk and gazed at the ruins with a stony face. Before Apparating, Severus had made sure to cast a Disillusionment charm upon himself because Godric's Hollow swam with magic folk, and he was sure to be spotted. Heaving a sigh, he looked at the two wrapped gifts in his hands, put them right outside of the path he knew to be there and turned to go.
"Severus!"
Upon hearing that voice, that sweet and melodic voice, fear became a thing. It lodged in his throats and forbade him to speak as he whipped around and saw his best friend standing before him with a smile on her face as she picked up the gifts. She wasn't supposed to be there! She could be seen! Someone could be watching, prowling, waiting!
"Lily!" he swore, grabbed her and castes a Disillusionment charm on her. "You shouldn't be out here! It's not safe!"
"Sev, I'm bored! I am going to die of boredom." Lily cried out. He casted a silent Muffiato charm as she continued. "James is worse. He sneaks out of the house when he thinks I'm asleep to go ride around with Sirius." Severus scowled at the names of the two young men but she ignored this. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you."
"You just happened to be gazing out of the window when I arrived, then?" a small grin played on his pale face.
"Oh, shut up." she looked at the gifts in her hands, "You got the children gifts? Oh, Sev, you didn't have to."
"It was nothing. I'm happy to." This wasn't a complete lie.
"Oh, hold on." She stepped across the boundary of the Fidelus charm and disappeared as if she had passed through a veil. She returned a moment later with a box and gave it to him.
"You weren't waiting for me, hm?" she rolled her eyes as he opened the box. Folded neatly within in was a wine-purple cloak made of the finest of silks.
"It deflects all sorts magic. The idea of making something like it came to me one day and I thought of you." her voice cracked and she tucked a thick curl behind her ear. "God knows you need it, of all people...."
Before her tears could fall, he pulled her into an embrace, "Thank you, Lily. It's perfect. I will always think of you when I wear it."
"Good." she hastily wiped away her tears and forced a smile onto her face, "Don't you forget me, Severus Snape, even if I am locked up in this house for years."
"I won't." he had said, "But you must promise me that no matter who you see or who you think you see, you will not cross the Fidelus charm again, for your sake and for the children. Not until it is safe."
"When will that be, Severus?" she inquired frustratedly.
He sighed, "I'm afraid I don't know."
Lily took notice to the long interval of silence that fell between herself and Snape as Madame Rosmerta scurried off to fulfill their order. She assumed his silence was for good reason and shrugged it off, instead peered behind them at the goblins seated to the back. They appeared to be gambling and were too caught up in the intense betting to notice her observing. Snape snapped out of his thoughts and followed her gaze.
"They're conniving gamblers and clever tricksters, goblins." said Snape. "Never make a deal with a goblin if you know there's even the slightest chance that you cannot hold up your end. It's like making a deal with the Devil himself."
Lily quirked an eyebrow, "Learned from experience, did you?"
He nodded once, "In my darker days."
At long last, Madame Rosemerta returned with two glasses filled half-way with the requested dark-gold liquid. Lily had to admit that the thought of having it excited her. It was a wonder how something so small as having her first alcoholic drink could inspire such excitement within; it made her feel moderately normal and Severus noticed this.
"How is it?" she queried, "Does it burn?"
He chuckled at her innocent curiosity. "It burns if you gulp it down quickly, but if you drink it and savor it as it is meant, it will fill you with warmth." He lifted his glass and she held her own glass to her lips. "I will when you do."
Eagerly, Lily tipped the glass back and sipped the liquid. It was sweet and palatable; it washed her throat with a fulfilling warmth and settled smoothly in her stomach. As she pulled the glass away from her lips, she grinned at him. He chuckled, "So? What do you think?"
"I think I love it." He felt a sort of happiness as she took another sip of the Firewhisky; he made her smile. He knew what she was going through, he knew of the troubling thoughts that were circling in her head and the grief that lingered from the death of her other godfather, Sirius Black. He understood that this smile, a smile which reminded him so much of her mother, would not last. But, even if it was for a little while, he would see to it that it lasted.
"So," she began in order to catch his attention, but what she didn't realize was that she would always have his undivided attention, his unwavering care. "Can I have another?"
He laughed, "I still have to keep my duties as a responsible godfather in mind, Lily."
"I would think that with as much time that you spend with me," she chuckled, "my rebelliousness would have rubbed off on you."
"Alright."
The night did not end there, however. After her second serving of the smooth Firewhisky, they left the Three Broomsticks and stroll through the streets of Hogsmeade. Well, Severus strolled quietly along, whereas Lily sung horribly into the night, singing Christmas carols in her slightly inebriated state.
"Lily," he laughed heartily, "It's not Christmas yet."
"So?"
"So someone is going to chuck a shoe at you if you don't lower your voice."
Lily sung louder still. Severus draped his cloak over his shoulders, drew his hood up once more, and became a silhouette accompanying the loud teenager. Some folks peered out their windows to find the source of the racket, but who was to know who accompanied a caroling (and daresay inebriated) Lily Potter on that Hogsmeade night? oNo one in their right mind would ever dare say Severus Snape joined along in the caroling. No one. It was their secret. Oh, how frivolous such a secret would soon seem compared to those that were to be inevitably unearthed. But her happiness -- no matter the source -- would not last long and soon their time together would be cut short.
And so they sang; she entirely oblivious to the calamities about to strike and he, knowing full-well who would be at the head of it.