The first several days in the new house were strange for Lavinia, and not just because it was an adjustment to an entirely new kind of life. She had freedom now. She could leave whenever she wanted, could simply walk outside and no one would tell her not to. She could curl up on the couch in the living room and read all day and no one told her she was wasting her time. She could walk down to the beach and stare out at the endless waves and the only restriction was that she had to wear muggle clothes.
One thing Lavinia realized rather suddenly was that she had no things. She had her clothes and books and a few trinkets, but she didn't own much beyond that. Sirius had wasted no time putting up posters in his room of his favorite bands and some weird muggle contraption he said was called a motorcycle. Remus had gotten his mother's help to move a desk and nearly full bookcase into his room. Both rooms, within days of their moving in, had completely reflected the personalities of their occupants. And Lavinia had stared at the blank walls and lack of furniture in her own room and wondered if it was fitting.
She didn't know what she would do to decorate even if she had the money to buy decorations. She didn't know what her personality was. She'd never had to because it had never mattered. She'd been given a role. And she had played it. And when that role had fallen apart, she'd been so busy drowning in the aftermath that she hadn't had time to think about what she liked or who she was. Outside of her mother's control and the chaos and self destruction that had reigned when she'd broke free, Lavinia simply didn't know who she was. It was a sobering thought, really and not at all a comfortable realization, but she also had no idea what to do about it. So she did nothing. She stared at her blank walls and thought that she could live with them.
Besides, she'd never had to decorate a room before. At home, her mother had done the decorating and it had always been elegant and perfect and Lavinia had never been allowed to touch it. At Hogwarts, she'd never bothered with decoration. Her bedside table had been functional, her trinkets merely small memories tucked away in the corners of drawers. She'd never had posters, like her roommate Emma had, or photos of her family like Alexandra. Her space had been tidy and that was about it. She supposed that even now that was probably all it needed to be anyway.
She didn't mention any of this to Sirius or Remus, mostly because she didn't want to sound whiny or ungrateful and she didn't want them to worry more than they already did. And they did plenty, she knew that. After that first day, she would catch them glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, would catch worried frowns and walk in on whispered conversations or arguments that broke off when she entered the room. She would have been a bit upset about it, but the reality was that she knew they had a point. Not that she was spiraling or losing it or anything that dramatic. She just felt a bit like she'd stagnated. Like this might be as good as it got.
Either way, it didn't exactly do much for her spirits to spend so much time in such a blank room. At least the rest of the house was better. Sirius and Remus had put up pictures they had from over the years and Remus's mother, ignoring Lavinia's warnings about her inability to keep plants alive, had insisted on putting some around the living spaces. They did brighten the space up a bit, that was for sure and Lavinia simply made sure someone else took care of them. Dead plants would be worse for morale than bare walls.
The kitchen had quickly become the brightest spot in the house for Lavinia as Remus had come home from a trip to town one day with arms full of groceries and a few muggle cookbooks. It made the nights better because each one felt a bit like an adventure as the three of them picked a recipe and did their best to recreate it, often with very mixed results. But regardless of the quality of the food at the end of it all, along the way they laughed enough to make up for it. Sirius put on muggle records he said he'd been collecting over the years, a habit he admitted he'd started to spite his parents, which seemed to be a common theme in his hobbies, and they cooked and laughed and all collectively judged Sirius for his taste in music.
At those moments, this little house in the hills beyond Falmouth felt like home. These boys felt like her family. Not the one she'd been born to because Remus and Sirius were nothing like the family she'd had. No, this was the family she'd chosen. And on the good nights, when she had the energy to try making dessert and they were talking and laughing and Pink Floyd was playing in the background... on those nights, Lavinia loved her life. On those nights, she remembered why fighting through the bad times was worth it.
Of course, she'd also had an incredibly awkward conversation where Remus and Sirius had sat her down and told her they needed to talk about the last night of term. Lavinia had turned beet red, said she really didn't want to and then been forced to sit through Remus becoming an insufferable mother hen.
"I know," she butted in finally, her patience having finally given out. "I know, okay? It was a bad night and I was being stupid and trust me, I never want to be that drunk again. Can we please drop it?"
Remus had surveyed her for a long moment while Sirius had smirked. "Told you she knew already," he'd muttered to his friend, who had frowned at him.
"I just think it doesn't hurt to talk about it," he insisted.
"I know," Lavinia had relented, rubbing her temples. "And before you launch into the whole spiel again, let's just make it very clear that I know I was running. I know I was trying to drown out my feelings and it didn't work and instead I am heartily embarrassed by the entire night and nothing good came out of it. So it won't happen again and if we could all just pretend it never happened in the first place, that would be great."
Something strange passed over Sirius's face when she said that, but it was brief and quick and Lavinia decided to pretend she hadn't seen it, mostly because she didn't want to admit that she couldn't entirely remember what she'd done or said that night. That alone was probably her biggest deterrent. The idea that she had done things that night and had no idea what they were scared her more than she was willing to admit. She didn't know what she might have said, what secrets she might have spilled. She didn't know what mistakes she might have made. She did know she didn't have any new scars from that night, so at least there was that, but she frankly thought there very easily could have been some had things gone just a little differently.
That single awkward conversation aside, Lavinia found she rather liked living with Remus and Sirius. It was good to already know the people she spent her time around, good that she had this direct confirmation that her friends were still there for her. It was also nice because they each spent enough time on their own things that they didn't end up getting on each others' nerves very often. Then again, all she had to judge on was the first week. Still, she thought that all in all, it had worked out well and as soon as she was working, she would make sure to pay these boys back for their kindness.
When Saturday rolled around and the time came to go to the Potter's for their little graduation party, Lavinia had only just begun to settle in. It still felt weird and it still felt temporary, even though she knew this was where she would be staying for the foreseeable future. But it also felt new, and untouched and that was relieving. She didn't have to do anything in particular with her life there. She didn't have to make anyone proud. She didn't have to do anything but exist in her own way. It was just as she'd hoped it would be. It was a fresh start.
Going to the Potter's was strange also, as so many things were these days. It wasn't that she didn't want to go or that she didn't like Mr. and Mrs. Potter. It was that the last time she'd been here it had been one of the worst times of her life and she couldn't help but worry about what memories would come forward when she showed up again at the front door.
But when she, Sirius and Remus apparated in front of the little garden gate, it couldn't have been more different from the last time she'd been here. It was early summer now and the garden was lush and lively and nearly bursting with greenery. The sun was shining and there were red and gold balloons tied to the gate on one side, and green and silver on the other. Lavinia looked up at the green and silver balloons, her fingers brushing them as she walked past.
Now that she hadn't expected. Especially not from the parents of a Gryffindor throwing a party for four other Gryffindors and one Slytherin who was easily the newest addition to the group. She'd expected everyone to act as though she was a Gryffindor too, simply by default.
Then again, Mr. and Mrs. Potter had never yet failed to surprise her. Not only had they taken her in, but Mrs. Potter had immediately started treating her like a daughter. Of course, part of why they'd surprised her so much was simply that they had a loving and supportive relationship with each other and their son and that had been, and to some extent still was, a completely foreign concept to Lavinia. Not that she said much about it. She knew Sirius a least understood. She knew it not just from his kind words and gestures when they'd been here five months ago, but she knew also from his behavior now as he stuck close to her side, a silent reminder that this could become normal for her too.
Lavinia came up to the front door and knocked, trying to suppress nerves she couldn't exactly explain. The door was opened by Mrs. Potter who beamed as soon as she saw the three people on her doorstep. Before Lavinia had the chance to even say hello, she was being wrapped in a hug and pulled inside.
Stepping back slightly from the hug, Mrs. Potter held Lavinia at arms length, looking her over. She tutted slightly. "You need to eat more, darling," she informed the girl, patting her on the shoulder. "I'll give you my favorite recipes to try."
Lavinia blinked up at the woman for a moment, completely at a loss and remembering rather belatedly to stammer out a thank you. This was a new way in which Mrs. Potter was utterly different from her own mother, not, she supposed, that she should really be making comparisons because they were such completely different women. Her mother only ever commented on her figure to remind her to stay skinny and not ruin her prospects, a concept that was evidently completely foreign to Mrs. Potter.
"Not a problem, dear, not a problem," Mrs. Potter replied breezily, brushing away Lavinia's gratitude. "And for goodness sake, next time don't bother knocking. I expected the muggle postman asking why we don't get mail again. You'd think the man would give up, but he insists on coming by you know. I don't mind terribly," she added as an aside, now herding Lavinia towards the dining room. "He's a sweet man and muggles are simply such curious folks you know. They're little gadgets are so genius. Sirius loves to tinker with them," she continued, glancing back over her shoulder at her adoptive son. "I really can't blame him. Marvelous things they are." Sirius was smiling bemusedly and Lavinia couldn't contain her own smile as she glanced back at him. She'd forgotten how much she liked this woman, for all that she was a lot to take in.
"Fleamont!" Mrs. Potter suddenly shouted, making Lavinia jump terribly, her instincts telling her to get low and look utterly unthreatening. "Get out of your little closet, honey, we have guests," she continued when Mr. Potter's return shout came through the halls.
Lavinia felt her nerves still singing, her whole body on edge, half waiting for a blow to fall. As though realizing this, Mrs. Potter put her arm gently around the girl's shoulders. "I'm terribly sorry, darling," she murmured, and she really sounded like she meant it. "I forget, you know. It was the same when Sirius came to stay. But I would never shout at you, dear, I promise you that."
Lavinia was trying to decide if it would be weird or pitiful to say "Thank you" when the sound of the door opening distracted her. "I'm here!" shouted James's voice from the entrance. "The party can begin!"
Mrs. Potter's smile got a little wider and a little tenderer at the sound of her son entering the house and she turned, giving Lavinia's shoulders a slight squeeze before she hurried back off to greet her son. From the other room, Lavinia heard the sounds of Mrs. Potter's enthusiastic greetings and James's mild protests as his mother presumably smothered him.
Lavinia smiled and laughed slightly, trying to get her jumbled nerves under control.
"She means it," Sirius murmured, coming to stand at Lavinia's side.
"I know," she returned, smiling a bit. "It just caught me by surprise."
Sirius nodded, his expression deeply understanding. "It takes getting used to. Still makes me jump sometimes," he added, sighing slightly.
Lavinia didn't know what else to do but nod and Sirius gave her a slightly sad little smile, squeezing her shoulder for a moment.
They were once again distracted by the sound or Mrs. Potter calling to her husband, albeit more quietly this time. Sirius snorted. "She's certainly something else, isn't she?" he observed drily, dropping his hand from Lavinia's shoulder. She resisted the urge to sigh at the loss of his touch and instead pulled an emphatic face.
"I hope she gives you her rhubarb pie recipe," Remus pitched in. "It's to die for."
Lavinia didn't have the chance to respond to that beyond a light chuckle before James and Lily came into the dining room, closely followed by Peter and Mrs. Potter herding the whole lot and calling over her shoulder that if her husband didn't get out here soon she wasn't going to feed him tonight.
It was, Lavinia thought, like sitting down to a family meal. Not like the family meals she'd endured at home, but a proper family meal, where people were happy and easygoing and the food was good and warm and homemade. She felt comfortable here, felt like she could have lived in this moment. And though some part of her knew it would never be enough to make up for the loss of her own family, it felt like it might not need to be. Like this wasn't trying to replace anything else and instead simply was its own wonderful thing. Like she didn't have to stuff this into the hole left by her own parents and could instead let it exist in its own space, appreciate it in its own context, without the shadow of her less savory memories hanging over it.
And that was exactly what she did. She let maybes and what-ifs and all the other worries drift away and just had a good time. As she did it, she realized just how long it had been since she'd done anything even remotely like this. How long it had been since she'd enjoyed herself without the weight of expectations or lies hanging over her head. So she did her best to cherish it.
They had finished eating and were sipping their various drinks (Lavinia chose water, having learned her lesson about alcohol only too well) when the conversation finally turned to future plans. If Lavinia was honest, it was the only part of the evening that wasn't perfect. Not that it was terribly unpleasant, it simply reminded her of things she would rather not have remembered.
"So," Mrs. Potter said, breaking the slightly bleary silence that had fallen over the group "What now, right? Do you all have plans?"
James rolled his eyes at his mother, a gesture Lavinia didn't understand until he spoke. "We've talked about this, Mum," he groaned. "Do we really need to have this conversation again?"
"Oh hush, James," the woman sighed. "I wasn't asking you. I know what your plans are. But what about you, Lavinia?" She turned to the girl as she said this and Lavinia was caught rather by surprise. She hadn't really expected to be asked about her plans, not least because as far as she knew, they were basically public knowledge at this point.
She shook herself slightly and smiled at Mrs. Potter. "Well, if I get the grades, I'm planning to train as a healer starting in September," she informed Mrs. Potter, who beamed at her as both women completely ignored the eye rolling Lavinia received at her ever present clarification regarding her marks.
"Well that's one sensible person here," Mrs. Potter replied, reaching over the table to pat Lavinia's hand. Lavinia also didn't understand that. As far as she was concerned, she was one of the less sensible people at this table. She had the scars to prove it, too.
"Mom," James groaned, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation.
"Let me worry, James. I can't imagine what kind of mother I'd be if I didn't," she returned, a bit snappishly.
Lavinia frowned, wondering what the hell she was missing. It occurred to her then that she'd never directly asked her friends what they planned to do once they were out of Hogwarts and she suddenly felt rather selfish for it. She had guesses, but not many that she liked, really, so, she supposed, she'd simply ignored the matter.
"'Phemia, darling," Mr. Potter sighed, rubbing his nose under his glasses for a moment. "I know you're not terribly pleased, but it is his life."
"I'm not stopping him," Mrs. Potter countered, her voice a bit more high pitched than usual. Her husband gave her a look and she sighed. "I just worry," she relented. "You're all so young to be putting yourselves in so much danger. And to do it full time and not just on the side..." She looked at both James and Sirius with dark, sad eyes. "I worry for you both. And your friends," she added, looking at Lily, Remus and Peter in turn. "You're too young for a war."
And Lavinia understood with a rather unpleasant jolt in her stomach. Because staring her in the face was the thing they had never spoken of outright. The thing they had never discussed because they knew it was a sensitive subject for her. Which also explained why Sirius was looking at her a bit apprehensively.
She didn't particularly like it, but she thought he might be right to watch her like that. Not that it made her angry. No, she knew why they hadn't told her, knew why they'd never broken the news to her explicitly. But it did make her feel a whole host of other things, chief among which was worry.
Under the table, Sirius's hand found hers and her gave it a quick squeeze. And written all over his face when she looked up at him was the apology he wasn't going to say aloud, at least not in present company.
She didn't think there was much to forgive. She knew he and James and the others were going to fight. She'd known it for months, even if she hadn't been willing to admit it to herself. They would never have forgiven themselves if they sat back and did nothing. And that they hadn't told her was also understandable because she'd as good as asked them not to bring it up. So she couldn't be angry with them for that either.
The only thing she was angry with was the world. For landing them in times like this. For existing in a state that was functionally the eve of open war. For leaving them in a situation where children fresh out of school were walking into the ranks of armies on both sides of a conflict that was bound to claim some of their lives.
Lavinia sighed and didn't say much for the rest of the night, but she also didn't let go of Sirius's hand even when they all stood to leave. She knew, now more than ever, that time was limited, that no matter what Evans had said, there would come a point where it was now or never. And she didn't have time to sort it all out in her head or her heart, but she knew that when that time came, she didn't want to be left with never. She didn't want to spend her life wondering what if. She had enough what ifs already. And she knew how much they hurt.
A/N: Hey y'all, so we're going to pretend this is a transition because I talked about this last time and jumping into the Author's Notes right away kills every writing instinct I have. Side note, just realized how many consonants 'instinct' has and it is many. It's 75% consonants. Which is a lot for an 8 letter word. It's 6 to be exact. And this is what happens when you stick a STEM major in quarantine for too long. Consider it a PSA. Protect your STEM majors. They lose it easily.
Anyways... as I was switching windows to update this, I accidentally opened sticky notes. Now I haven't touched this for... oh... 4 months (side note 2: fuck me I've been in quarantine for 4 months now. *internal screaming*). And I only usually use it for quick notes during class. Specifically, I most recently used it for notes about my report in Quantitative Analysis Lab. Which is a stupid name for what is basically Intro Analytical Chem Lab. That's not the point though. I just thought y'all would appreciate what my note says. I have copy pasted this: "Have 4 whys in 1st para or topic (intro). Results to expectations. explain in discuss - WHYS. Also future works." Now I *think* I know what that means. But to be honest, when you just read it, you're kinda like... huh. What was she on? It explains a lot about why sometimes my class notes make literally no sense. Thank goodness I have a decent memory or I'd be so screwed academically.
Anyway, as usual, I hope y'all enjoyed and I'll be back again tomorrow.
P.S. I was about to publish this, but I just noticed by dog was having a dream and her paws are twitching and she's dream barking (wuffle is probably a good word for it) and I just thought I'd share lol.