Snowfall
November 19th, 1976
It was a beautiful day for a Hogsmeade visit. Although, it was a beautiful day no matter what you intended to do. For some, it was a beautiful day to attempt murder.
*** This would be the last Hogsmeade visit of the school year.
Of course, none of them know this yet. ***
James Potter left Hogwarts after he received that letter in Transfiguration class. He’d explained the situation quickly to Sirius, Remus, and Peter as the three followed him to their dorm, helping him pack his things up.
His dad had fallen ill. His dad was more frail than he looked, and both of his parents were old compared to most of his friends’. He didn’t think about it often. It was just life. He hadn’t even realized it was strange until he went to Hogwarts.
Wizards lived to all sorts of ages. He didn’t need to worry. He wasn’t going to worry.
But, seeing his mother’s handwriting on that paper, about how they’d had to rush to St. Mungo’s in the middle of the night because his heart had failed? That was worrying.
There was no chance he was staying at Hogwarts for that.
So McGonagall had let him Floo home, almost directly into the arms of his mother, who both thanked him for coming and told him he needn’t have taken the time off school.
His dad was propped up on the sofa, a blanket over his legs, and a strange floating halo circling his head.
“Died already, have you?” James asked, dealing with this the only way he knew how.
“The cheek of you,” Fleamont Potter smiled, reaching up to hug his son.
“I think it’s inherited,” James sighed, flopping down next to him.
“From your mother, maybe,” his dad joked, and Euphemia Potter let out a sound of protest, before sitting on the other side of James.
“It’s to monitor his heart, after the operations they did.” She said, gesturing to the strange light. “Very annoying to sleep next to.”
“Very annoying to sleep with,” his dad said, grumpily.
“How long?” James asked.
Euphemia shrugged. “We’re going back to check with the Healers at the end of the week. It’s…We’re not quite sure what caused it. But as long as recovery goes well, it should be a one time incident.”
“Mia,” Fleamont said, softly. “That’s not entirely true.”
“Flea,” she said, in the same tone. “He’s just got in.”
“What’s going on?” James demanded, looking between them as if he was watching a tennis match.
Fleamont Potter sighed. He would have liked to hold this information back from his son a little longer. He would have liked to not have to admit his own infirmity. It was a lot for a sixteen-year-old to deal with.
“They’ve said I’ll likely be weakened to illnesses in the future,” he said, to James. “I might take longer to recover from injuries. They also said that there’s a chance there’s a genetic component.”
James said nothing, just looked at his hands.
“So, when you make it to eighty, make sure you visit a Healer to check on everything.”
“Only when I make it to eighty?” James asked, and his mother smothered a laugh.
Fleamont Potter rolled his eyes. “Only then.”
“But you’ll…you’ll be okay. It’ll be different, but you’re not going to die, right?” James said, hating how childish he sounded.
“We’re all going to die, son,” he said, slowly. “But I don’t plan to die any sooner than necessary. Maybe when you’re eighty.”
James laughed, and settled between his parents in the spot he’d so often occupied, as they asked about his latest quidditch match.
*** James Potter wouldn’t see eighty.
James Potter wouldn’t see twenty-two. ***
“So is it a date or not?” Marlene, straight to the point, asked Lily as she was getting ready.
Lily pulled a pair of jeans on, reminding herself mentally to cast a heating charm when she left. It was freezing today.
“I’m not rightly sure,” Lily said, truthfully. She’d definitely been asked on a date. But he’d given her such a graceful out that she wasn’t sure she’d accepted to go on one.
“Do you like Jack?” Dorcas asked, who was sitting on the edge of Marlene’s bed, neither of them being particularly helpful as she tried to pick out a nice top.
“I’m not rightly sure about that, either,” she admitted, shrugging. She settled on a tight turtleneck with a larger sweater over it, baggy enough that her fingers only just poked out of the sleeves.
“What are you sure of?” Dorcas asked.
“That you two will be in the Three Broomsticks with a drink in you, and if I send you the signal, you’ll join us whether he likes it or not.”
Dorcas chuckled, but Marlene rolled her eyes.
“The signal being,” she pretended to think about it, “you inviting us over?”
“It’s a clear signal,” Lily replied, airily.
“It would be fun if you dated Jack,” Adelaide said, from where she’d been curling her hair on the floor in front of a mirror. “I’m dating James. We could start matching up with the Gryffindor boys.”
Marlene started laughing inexplicably.
“Mary and Sirius might make a good pair.” Adelaide went on. Mary was not with them, as she’d elected to spend the Hogsmeade day visiting her family, an option that was only available due to her recent attack. “Marlene, you get to pick Remus or Peter. Connie can get the other.”
Lily started laughing, too. “Connie doesn’t even get to pick?”
Adelaide shrugged, suppressing a small smile. “She’s the one who got detention on Hogsmeade weekend. With James gone, I’ve got nothing to do.”
Dorcas Meadowes had not missed the fact that she did not get paired up with a Gryffindor boy. Not that she wanted one, but still.
“Well, if she’s not even going to Hogsmeade, sounds like she’s out of the picture,” Marlene said, logically. “James, too, sorry Adelaide. We’re going to have to start pairing up with each other.”
Dorcas made eye contact with Lily and prayed that the other girl had not seen her blush. The small, knowing smile on Lily’s face suggested otherwise.
“Come on,” Lily said, fully dressed and grabbing a coat from their small, shared wardrobe. “We have to go in groups for security reasons, who’s joining me?”
Dorcas and Marlene stood, then looked at Adelaide.
“Go on,” she said, still fiddling with her hair, “I’m not sure if I’m even going.”
“You sure?” Lily asked, not entirely minding a day without her. She didn’t understand why, but Adelaide’s presence was aggravating her more than usual lately.
“Yeah, go on,” she said, waving the others on. “Maybe I’ll have a nap.”
Lily waved goodbye, and the three of them left, soon bracing against the icy November wind.
**
Jack Danes was already in the Three Broomsticks when Lily walked in, a while later. She waved the other two off, and they squeezed in at the bar as she made her way to the small table that Jack had managed to snag for them.
“Oh, hi,” she said, taking her coat off and hanging it on her chair. “Not waiting long, I hope?”
Jack grinned. “I mean, I’ve had a crush on you for a few months, but I s’pose that’s not that long, is it?”
Lily blushed, then took a sip of his butterbeer to cover it up. It, of course, did nothing of the sort.
“I…I don’t know what to be saying to that,” she said, honestly.
“That’s why I said it,” he joked, waving to get another drink for her. “Well, one of the reasons.”
“You like seeing me blush?” She asked, more flirtily than she’d really intended.
Jack shrugged, and this time he seemed slightly pink.
Lily laughed. “We’re too Irish for this. Come on, buck up. Tell me o’ all your sordid past dates, or whatever people talk about at these things.”
He made a thoughtful expression. “I don’t think it’s that, I’ll be honest.”
Her drink arrived, and she gave his back to him, suppressing a small smile.
“You really don’t do this much, do you?” Jack asked, and Lily laughed.
“That obvious, is it?”
“No, it’s just…I know you were involved with Severus for a long time, and I–”
“I was never with Sev. Not…Not romantically.” Lily interrupted him, her tone more serious.
He looked genuinely surprised.
“He was just my best mate. He’s not anymore, obviously. But we weren’t together.”
“Oh,” Jack said. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
Lily shrugged. He was hardly the first.
“If we’re talking about it, then, can I ask about James?”
Lily furrowed her brows, baffled. “What about him?”
“Did you ever date him?”
“What?” She blinked a few times. “Did he tell you that I did?”
“No,” Jack said, sitting back in his chair. “He’s just been into you for a while, and, you know, he’s James Potter.” He said the name like it was bigger than others. “It’s not a big deal, I just, I share a room with the bloke.”
“He’s with Adelaide,” she said, obviously, brow still furrowed. “We’ve never…He’s asked me out a couple of times, but I said no. That was it. We can barely stand each other. Actually, we can’t stand each other.” She paused. “Shame about his da, though.”
“Aye,” Jack said, looking grim. “Not sure how serious it is, but he left in such a rush.”
Lily sighed, then shook herself a little. “Alright, none of this. What are you planning after Hogwarts?”
*** It didn’t matter. Jack Danes would not get to do any of his plans. ***
Dorcas and Marlene were trying–and failing–to subtly eavesdrop on Lily’s date.
“I think they’re talking about quidditch,” Marlene said, with completely unearned confidence.
“You can’t possibly know that,” Dorcas said, laughing into her butterbeer. She’d laughed more in the last month than in the last six years at Hogwarts.
“I can tell by their energy,” Marlene said, stubbornly.
“That’s nonsense,” Dorcas said, shaking her head. “They don’t look as awkward as I’d expected, though.”
“Why did you think it would be awkward?” Marlene asked.
“Because Lily doesn’t like him,” Dorcas said, not bothering to be delicate.
“You think?” Marlene mused, watching the couple. “I don’t know. She keeps her cards close to her chest.”
“Does she?” Dorcas asked, genuinely. “She certainly lets some emotions show. I thought she might murder James Potter in our fifth year.”
“That’s true,” Marlene admitted, thinking. “I would say that’s just the effect James has on everyone, but Lily is remarkably quick to anger anyway. Still, she’s never really dated.”
Dorcas shot them another look. “I don’t think that streak has broken. They’re talking the same way they do in classes.”
Marlene followed her gaze, thoughtfully. “Isn’t that the point? Find someone you’re friends with. You’re comfortable with.” Marlene looked back at her, and her stomach flipped.
“Is that what you’re planning with Carpenter?” Dorcas asked.
Marlene’s eyes widened, and she took a gulp of her drink, feigning nonchalance. “What do you mean?”
Dorcas immediately backtracked. “Oh, I must have been mistaken, I–”
“I mean, I am gay,” Marlene said, quickly.
Dorcas breathed a sigh of relief.
“I just didn’t realize anyone knew that,” she said, looking at Dorcas with a strange intensity.
Dorcas shrugged, feeling slightly flushed. “It’s easier to see things about people when you don’t know them that well.”
Marlene nodded, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts. “I’m not ashamed of it,” she said, after a while. “I’m really not. My uncle’s gay, it’s not…it’s not a bad thing. I’m just, I hadn’t really figured out how to tell people. Or if I even…should?”
“Why not?” Dorcas asked. “Why shouldn’t you?”
Marlene shrugged. “Because there’s a war on. And I’m worried about having a crush on my cousin’s girlfriend.”
“James Potter is your cousin?” Dorcas was baffled.
“Not really,” she assured her, “but basically. We grew up together.” Marlene sighed, running her hands through her long cut, and draining her drink. “Luckily, I think I’m over Adelaide.”
Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Marlene said, smiling. “She’s been a bit of a prat, lately. Not a very attractive quality.”
“I thought that was her natural state,” Dorcas said, without an ounce of shame.
Marlene snorted so loudly that several of the nearby patrons looked at them with curiosity.
“Certainly seems to be.”
They kept talking. Long enough for Lily to look their way, smile slightly, and leave the Three Broomsticks, saying goodbye to Jack. Long enough for the bar to slowly empty. Long enough for it to start to get dark. Long enough for the sixth-year Ravenclaw prefect to round them up, looking frazzled, and escort them back to Hogwarts.
They stayed there long enough that they missed the attack on Benjy Fenwick entirely.
**
Alice Selwyn trudged a few feet behind her friends as they chatted about their course load, intent on returning back to the castle early and getting some work done.
It had been a crap day, with crap weather, and a crap headache. Well, she supposed headaches were always crap, but still.
“Oh, let’s stop for a drink,” Alice’s best mate Claudia said, gesturing to the warm light of the Three Broomsticks. “Just one.”
The rest of their little group agreed, but Alice hung back.
“You lot go on,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “My head’s killing, I just want to get back.”
“Oh,” Claudia said, immediately coming back, “you can’t go alone, we’ll all go back.”
“No, don’t be silly,” Alice argued.
“It’s no bother,” she said.
“Look,” Alice said, in a tone that invited no argument. “There will be professors waiting on the path. I’m going to be an Auror. If I can’t handle the walk back to Hogwarts, then maybe I should consider a different profession.”
Claudia looked torn--the others already in the warmth of the pub. “You sure?” She asked, finally.
“Am I ever not?”
Claudia grinned. “Be careful. See you later.”
Alice turned from her friend and carried on plodding up the hill back to the castle.
The road between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade wasn’t particularly long, but it did have several bends and small hills, so the castle was obscured from her view for now. There were a few floating lamps lighting the way, as it got dark so early this time of year.
She allowed her mood to match her grim surroundings, taking slow, heavy steps over the frozen earth, thinking.
Mostly, she was thinking about Frank.
She had thought back on their conversation so many times in the intervening weeks, thought about how many ways she could have made it go better. He must have realized that she had feelings for him. Why else would have brought it up? Maybe he’d been trying to talk about it, to let her down easily. To ensure their friendship was built on honesty and not her painfully obvious feelings.
When he’d asked her if she’d ever thought about them, her immediate response had been defensive. She didn’t want to hear him tell her that she was so special to him and such a good friend and all the other crap that she knew he’d say. If she didn’t admit it to him, maybe she could keep some of her ever-dwindling dignity.
She was still thinking about him as the first flakes of snow began to fall, melting as soon as they hit the ground. He hated the snow. She loved it.
When she finally got to the top of the hill and looked beyond her, for a second, she thought she was imagining things. She’d just been thinking about him, after all. It wasn’t strange that she might imagine him in front of her.
But it was strange that he’d be running, wand out, to a dark twist of the path that she couldn’t see.
She opened her mouth to yell for him, then thought better of it. She shook off her exhaustion and raced after him, her feet pounding painfully on the hard ground.
She pulled out her wand and followed him around the corner, a curse on the tip of her tongue.
“Stupefy!” Frank yelled at a figure wearing a black fabric mask, who deflected it easily. There was a body on the floor next to them.
“Incarcerous!” Alice flung the hex at their opponent, standing beside Frank. The figure cut away the ropes that came for him, but only just. “Protego!” She shouted, blocking a purple hex she didn’t recognize before it could hit them.
“Expulso,” she cast, driving their opponent back. He landed hard, and she advanced further. Then, suddenly, everything was black.
She wasn’t unconscious. She was awake and moving and could hear the vague yells of Frank around her. But she couldn’t see anything. She was blind.
“Frank!” She shouted, the terror evident in her voice. “I can’t see. Where are you?”
“I can’t either,” he said, sounding stronger than her. “Follow my voice, Alice, I’m here.”
She did, and walked hesitantly forward until she collided with something warm and broad and familiar.
“Frank,” she breathed, stumbling into his arms, closing her eyes against the blackness. “What’s happening?”
He was breathing heavily but held onto her with a vice-like grip. “I think…I think he’s getting away.”
She opened her eyes and saw that the strange darkness was beginning to clear up. When she finally got a sense of herself again, she saw Frank was right. The other figure was gone. But the body was definitely still in front of them on the floor.
“Benjy!” She gasped, then crouched on the floor beside the mess of robes. “God, is he dead?”
Frank crouched beside her and cast a few spells under his breath. After a moment or two, Benjy opened his eyes, blinking blearily.
“What happened?” He asked, looking between the two of them. “You look like shit.”
Alice rolled her eyes but Frank laughed, helping the other boy up, carefully. “You got yourself hexed by someone.”
“Who?”
Alice was already looking at where the man had been, but any trace of him was gone. Soon, the snow would cover it anyway.
“Dunno,” Frank said. “He got away.”
Alice looked back at them, Frank heavily supporting Benjy with one arm, his wand still out in the other. “I’ll get a teacher,” she said, before a shimmering white mare erupted out of her wand, and started to gallop along the path to Hogwarts.
*** Benjy Fenwick is murdered and mutilated by Death Eaters in 1981.
The body is too mangled to properly bury. ***