Regulus Black was sitting in the Great Hall, at the furthest end of the Slytherin bench as he could go, keeping entirely focused on his meal, trying very hard not to be noticed by his friends (or so Barty and the others called themselves). He felt uneasy, though he could not fully explain why, and was not eager to join in on their conversation about whether one of the upperyear students had really successfully brewed himself Felix Felicius for the match on Ravenclaw. He didn't much feel like being the only one of the fourth years not speaking of it with admiration.
Horace Slughorn came into the room, tugging his silver vest nervously. He looked over the Slytherin table, eyeing its occupants, and started toward it, his eyes meeting Regulus's.
Bloody hell, Regulus thought, feeling quite annoyed, not another Slug Club thing, I hope. I ought to have gone and pretended to morally approve of cheating.
Slughorn's countenance was dim. He arrived at Regulus's side and rocked to and from the balls of his feet nervously, "My boy, might I have a word with you?"
Regulus summoned his patience. "Yes sir?"
"Come with me, my boy." Slughorn turned and Regulus glanced fleetingly back at Barty Crouch and the others, but they were paying no attenti0n to Regulus, even as he abandoned dinner and trudged after Slughorn. Regulus was surprised, however, when Slughorn continued past the door to the Gryffindor table. Regulus halted at the corner of Ravenclaw, stunned and afraid to approach Gryffindor. Several of the students at the end of the table sneered at him from their seats.
"Mr. Pettigrew!" Slughorn's voice carried to where Regulus stood, waiting. "Have you seen Sirius Black?"
Peter, who had looked up the moment someone had said his name, shook his head. If he was surprised to see Horace Slughorn at the Gryffindor table, looking for Sirius, he did not show it. Rather, it seemed almost as though Peter might've been expecting Slughorn, though that was utterly ridiculous, thought Regulus, and he pushed the thought from his mind, even as Slugorn thanked Peter and walked, in his heavy gait, back to where Regulus stood, waiting.
"Come along, Regulus," Slughorn said, and he led the way out of the Great Hall.
For a fleeting second at the door, Regulus glanced back to see Peter Pettigrew staring after him, eyes wide, before he stepped into the entrance hall. Slughorn led him down the stairs to his office. "Have a seat, have a seat," Slughorn instructed Regulus. He went to his little brass cart of bottles and poured himself a glass of oak mead, preferring to do it by hand than magic in the name of putting off the moment a moment or two more.
Regulus sat in one of the tufty chairs by the fire, under the watchful eyes of hundreds of student photographs that littered Slughorn's mantel. He stared up and watched as the past members of the Slug Club smiled and nodded and waved from their various frames.
"Care for anything to drink, my boy?" came Slughorn's voice.
"No, thank you, sir," Regulus replied.
Slughorn sighed and pushed the stopper in the mead he'd been pouring, and turned around, carrying his glass in his thick fingers, and shuffled over. He groaned as he lowered himself into the chair opposite Regulus and took a long sip of his mead before putting the glass on the side table.
Reguuls stared at him, hoping very much that he hadn't been plucked from the Great Hall to simply keep Slughorn company, as though they were friends that chatted over tea, like Maryrose and any one of the other females from Hufflepuff, braiding one another's hair and eating low-fat Cauldron Cakes.
Old Sluggy's probably never eaten anything low-fat in his entire life, Regulus thought meanly.
"Regulus, I am sorry that it must be I who tells you what has happened, but as your Head of House, the duty does fall upon me," Slughorn began, his jaw quavering slightly, and he stared apologetically at Regulus.
"What is it?" Regulus asked, and he felt inside of him a stirring notion of worry. Something was wrong, something bad had happened. His first, immediate thought was of Kreacher. That old elf certainly was along in years, perhaps something had happened - perhaps Kreacher was dead. He felt a welling of panic and worry rise up in him as he tried to recall what the last thing he had said to Kreacher was - only just an hour ago he'd been playing gobstones on the floor of his dormitory and ---
Regulus stopped.
Surely, news of a dead house elf would take more than an hour or two to reach him through Horace Slughorn. No, this couldn't be it. Honestly, it would probably take longer than an hour for Walburga to even notice that anyting was missing, should Kreacher die. Regulus imagined Kreacher's stinking, rotting body laying about Number 12 for days while Walburga screeched what an unnecessary waste of space the old elf was. That seemed a far more likely scenario than did Slughorn coming to tell Regulus of his dead servant, who only Regulus considered important at all.
All these thoughts going through his head stopped him from the moment's pause to collect himself, and so he was quite unprepared when Slughorn said, "Your mother has been taken very ill, Mr. Black, and has been transported to St. Mungo's Hospital."
Regulus blinked in surprise, "Mother? What's wrong with her?"
"Well, the owl I received with the news was somewhat vague," Slughorn admitted. He paused, pulling a letter from his breast pocket. "You recall Bellatrix Lestrange, I presume, one of your eldest cousins? Neice of your mother?"
"Yes," Regulus nodded, thinking of Bella's cruel laughter and sing-songing voice. His blood went a bit cold. Of all the death eaters, she was one of the cruelest - and certainly the most annoying. Her pleasure from anyone else's suffering extended to kicking house elves and that, above all of her other sins and transgressions, was one thing that angered Regulus more than any other offense.
"She was the one who found your mother and she and her husband, Rudolphus, transported her to the hospital this very hour."
Regulus imagined the throng of healers that were probably surrounding his dear mother right that moment. "But what happened to her?"
"She was found in her library, choking, though it is unclear on what, exactly," Slughorn replied.
Regulus stared at his hands. His stomach was knotted up in a big tangled mess of nervousness. He worried that the healers might put some sort of relaxing charm on his mother and he imagined her telling Bella and Rudolphus all her deepest secrets... like her contempt against Voldemort and her remorse at ever having joined up as followers of such a dark and uncaring wizard. He imagined Bellatrix Lestrange running back to the Dark Lord - or skipping, more the like, being that it was Bellatrix he was thinking of - and telling him everything she'd learned, like some twisted pup looking for a treat. It made Regulus sick to imagine his mum so exposed like that, her private walls broken down against her will.
"I need to go to Mungo's, I need to see her," Regulus said to Slughorn, the anxiousness in him building further, "Please."
Slughorn sighed, "There is very little you could do for now, Regulus, aside from getting in the way. I will take you and your brother to Mungo's tomorrow myself, if you wish, but for tonight --"
"Sir, please!" Regulus stood up, "Why did you even tell me what's happened if you didn't intend to help me go and see her?"
Slughorn looked surprised at the passion in Regulus's voice. "Miss. Lestrange is with her there and I suppose others as well and --"
"She needs me there," Regulus snapped. "Me, before any others. Before Bellatrix or Sirius. Me."
There was such strength and demand in Regulus's voice that Horace Slughorn stared up at him, blinking in shock at the outburst.
"Sir -- please."
Slughorn nodded, and then took up his glass of mead and drained it into his mouth. He drew his wand and waved it, expelling a patronus - it took the appearance of a swan with a long, slender neck. "Go and tell Minerva McGonagall where I've gone and what has happened," he commanded it, and waved his wand and the bird went, passing through the door. He beckoned to Regulus, getting up with as many groans as he'd issued sitting down in the first place, and waddled to the fireplace, where he took hold of a round jar on the mantel. "This jar was given to me by one of my students, you know," he said, twisting the lid opened. It was gold and bejeweled with tiny patterns made of rubies. "Sent to me all the way from northern China," he added, holding it out to Regulus.
Inside, floo powder glowed bright green.
Regulus reached in and grabbed a handful of the powder, as did Slughorn, who then put the jar down on the table behind him.
"I do miss those simpler days," he murmured, barely above a whisper, and he turned to the fireplace, tossing his fistful of glittering green powder, and he shuffled into the green burst of flames. "Mungo's!" he cried and with a crack, he was gone.
Regulus took a deep breath, steeling himself, preparing himself for what he needed to do if she was, indeed, compromised, as he feared...
"Mungo's!" he shouted.
And with a spark -- he was gone.
"For fucks sake, how long is this film?" Sirius had asked, the culmination of an hour's shifting, rolling, and anxious pocket-watch checking. He rolled and stared up at James. "Prongs, bloody hell, this is boring."
"BORING?" Lily and James both fired up at once in defense for The Doctor. "How can you even start to think this is boring?" Lily argued as even James looked at her in surprise. "Did you not see that just now? Like do you not understand that The Doctor is the Evil One? Like THE DOCTOR, Sirius!"
"So?" Sirius asked, "Lilith, I swear, thou art amused by the weirdest shit."
Remus raised an eyebrow, looking in amusement from the look on Sirius's face to the defensive expressions on James's and Lily's faces.
"Oi," James spoke up, "It isn't shit. Doctor Who is a masterpiece of British muggle telly! You can't consider yourself properly educated unless you've seen at least one series of it."
Lily nodded eagerly, "What he said."
Sirius looked appalled. "It's a series?"
"Why, yes, of course it is!" James replied. "This is only part one, you uncultured swine."
"Swine?" Sirius raised his wand, "Why I ought to turn you into a swine."
"Go on and try then," James replied, holding out his arms to be an easy target, "I've seen your Transfiguration grades and they're bloody abysmal."
Sirius raised his wand, "Porcos!"
James dodged the spell, which struck a lamp on the far side. With a pop - it had turned into a small pig. They all stared at the pig - which glowed, like a fat, snorting little light bulb with a curly tail. It took but a moment and they'd all broken into hearty laughter. "You bloody turned that lamp into a pig!" James cried, tears in his eyes as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. "Oh my gods."
Lily leaned over and scooped it up from the night stand. It oinked up at her quietly, each time it's mouth opened was like a flashlight - a bright glow came out and lit up her face. She laughed so hard she snorted, "And you did a shoddy job of it, too."
"Shoddy my arse! That's a damn fine looking pig if I ever saw it," Sirius said defensively.
"I don't reckon pigs typically glow, mate," Remus intoned, smirking. Then he waved his wand, "Porcos!" and the transformation completed so that instead of a glowing half-pig-half-lamp, Lily now held an actual bonafide piglet in her hands. "There."
"Very good Moonpie," Sirius said, and he clapped obnoxiously, a wide grin splitting his face. "Brilliant."
Lily laughed, "And what are we to do with a pig at Hogwarts?"
"Make bacon, I s'pose," James said lowly.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Sirius and Remus both shouted with amusement as Lily made a face of disgust and shouted over them, "That's awful! Don't joke about the poor ickle babe!" She coddled it to her chest protectively and glowered at Sirius, who was suggesting they roll it in pepper before they cast the bacon spell.
"Is there a bacon spell?" James asked, "Bloody hell, where's that been all my life? How'd it take seventeen years to find it??!"
"I'll invent it for you mate," Sirius suggested.
And James laughed, "Brilliant. I'll end up with bacon with legs running about only half transformed."
"A bacon spell would be sizzleiticus," Remus joked, his eyes glinting.
"Delicious, more like," James said grinning.
"You're all quite terrible," Lily reprimanded and she stroked the little pig's head gently with her fingers, tickling his chin and wrapping her cardigan around it. "Don't worry, little pig, Lily won't let the mean boys hurt you, no-she-won't-no-she-won't."
"Oi I'm going to throw up, Evans," Sirius said, rolling his eyes at her googling baby voice.
Lily stuck her tongue out at him. "Don't make fun, he's adorable."
"It's a stupid pig," Sirius said.
"Actually," Remus intoned, "Pigs can be quite intelligent. They can be trained. Like dogs." He looked pointedly at Sirius.
James looked from the pig to Sirius, "I reckon it looks smarter than Sirius already!" he said.
Sirius pointed at James, "I bloody missed last go but I won't again. I'll turn you into a fucking -- a fucking --" he paused. "Oi, what do pigs eat?"
"Slop," Lily said.
Sirius looked confused, "Bloody hell, what's a slop, then?"
Remus shook his head as the other two laughed at Sirius and James said, "Go look it up in a book, Padfoot. A book's one of those rectangular things with pages in it."
Sirius gave James a very rude gesture.
"OH SHHH YOU LOT THIS IS A GOOD PART," Lily pointed at the telly and they turned to look at it as the pig dropped to her lap and jumped down from the bed, scuttling over the floor, his little hooves clicking.
Sirius groaned and threw himself back on the bed, "I thought we were off of this."
Remus laughed and jumped up, scooping up the little pig from the floor. "C'mon Sirius, we'll feed the pig while Lily and James finish up with the watching of Doctor Who, how's that? You can learn what slop is."
Sirius rolled over, "Anything's better than this," he replied waving at the telly screen.
James called after them, "You're hopeless!"
Silence fell over James and Lily as they each looked at the telly to watch the scene. The screen flickered as Tom Baker faced himself on the screen - seemingly two Doctors, though one was The Doctor and one was the bad guy - the Face of Evil. Somehow or other, in all the hustle and bustle with the pig and Lily jumping and turning around, she'd landed next to him on the bed, their backs against the wall, very close together so that their shoulders were nearly touching and James could smell her.
He stared at the side of he head a long moment, then looked back at the telly screen.
"I like the name Leela," he said to break the silence. "I think it's pretty."
"I like it as well," Lily agreed.
"It's very close to Lily," James said.
Lily nodded. "Sort of." She was engrossed in the screen.
James looked down at his hand, so close to hers, then back up at the screen.
There was a long pause as they both watched the Doctor with his larger than life scarf running about the jungle planet that he was visiting in this episode.
Finally, Lily looked over at him. "It was good to hear you laugh again," she said.
James looked back at her. "What do you mean?"
"It's just that was the first time in quite a long time that I've heard you really laugh, that's all," Lily answered. She leaned back against the wall, taking herself a little bit out of his orbit. Being that close was sending tingling zings through her and she felt heady and overwhelmed. "I suppose I missed the sound of it."
James said, "Oh. Well. It's easier when I'm with my friends, you know? They sort of cheer me up."
"Couldn't tell earlier, you were rather moody before," Lily said gently. "Are you alright?"
James hesitated, "Yeah. I'm alright."
But Lily had caught the moment of hesitation. "What's the matter? James?"
He looked down at his lap, then reached forward and took up his wand, waving it at the telly. "Pause," he told it. The screen froze exactly in place and Lily twisted so she was facing him more than sitting next to him, feeling it was a very important thing if he was pausing Doctor Who. James reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch, staring at it's face, turned so only he could see it.
"What's that?" Lily asked.
James held it out, "My birthday watch."
"But you said that your parents were sending it by owl?" she looked confused as she took the watch.
James shrugged, "I lied."
He knew the exact moment her eyes had comprehended she was seeing a Mickey Mouse watch when they widened in surprise and amused shock and she let out a choking sort of laugh. "I - I don't understand."
James said, "I've waited seventeen years - alright maybe more like thirteen if you count needing to be old enough to understand what watches were - but a long bloody time, nonetheless, for my coming of age watch. I had all these thoughts what it might be like, getting it, and what it might look like and -- well in every scenario I ever imagined in all of my life, I never once bloody pictured it as being a Mickey Mouse watch."
"I doubt very much that anyone would expect it to be a Mickey Mouse watch, other than perhaps Walt Disney himself," Lily murmured. She looked at the yellow hands of Mickey pointing at the time. She held it back out and James took it, shaking his head and holding it in his lap, staring down at it. "Do you reckon it's a joke?"
"I hoped it was," James answered, "But I don't think my Dad could keep his excitement down long enough to have no given me the real one yet. He'd be way too quick to tell me it was a joke. Like the second he thought I'd fallen for it." James shook his head, "It's not a joke. I don't reckon they think of me as a true adult, even if I have come of age."
"They're batty if they don't think you're an adult," Lily said, "After all you've been through."
James couldn't bring himself to look up.
"You're the most grown up person I know, James Potter," Lily said. "And that's saying something, seeing as it's you I'm talking to."
James felt a tear cross his cheek.
Lily couldn't look at it. It was indecent, like he was exposed, and she felt sick just thinking of James Potter crying on his birthday. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. A lump rose up in her throat and she said, "I've got you a present, too, you know."
"Yeah?" James asked, and he shoved the watch into his pocket.
"Yeah." Lily got up and went over to where they'd left their rucksacks, pulling a pretty wrapped package from hers and crossed back over to the bed, climbing up and sitting on her knees. She thrust the package at him and he took it and opened it up.
Inside was a leather pouch, made to clip onto a belt. It was finely crafted brown leather, etched with stag antlers and stars and his initials JP.
"It's a sort of scabbard," she said, "But for your wand." She took it and took up his wand from the night stand and slid it into it. "See. I thought perhaps if you had this it - it might be harder for you to - to forget your wand. And look. It's got a design like your antlers. See? I had it personalized..." she pointed out the etchings.
James ran his fingers over it and he smiled and looked up at her, "Thanks Evans. I like it quite a lot."
She smiled. "Better than a Mickey Mouse watch?"
James nodded, "Better than a Mickey Mouse watch."
Lily said, "I reckon, James, that the only reason they don't see you as an adult is because they love you so much that they're keen to keep you as a child in their minds. You're their only child and everything, and it's hard for parents to let go sometimes as we get older, you know?" She leaned forward and tucked her finger under his chin, tilting his face up to meet hers. His eyes were rather red. She frowned with empathy, but not in a condescending way. "You're their little boy."
"Yeah," he said.
Lily gnawed her lip a moment, then shifted herself to be sitting next to him again. "Shall we finish Doctor Who?" she asked. "It really is a good one. Wait 'til you see how it turns out."
"Everyone's happy in the end, then?" James asked.
Lily nodded. "Doesn't every good story end that way?"
"Not everyone," he replied. He slid his wand out of his brand new scabbard and waved it - "Play." And the telly started moving again as he slid his wand back into the pouch. He smiled at it, then at Lily, who was smiling up at him.
"You really like it?" Lily asked.
"I love it," James answered.
And they turned to the telly again. There was a pause.
"Evans?"
"Potter?" She looked up at him.
"Don't mention Mickey to the fellas?"
"I won't," Lily answered.