The Pear
James was so tired. So tired. Everything seemed funny. He and Sirius hadn’t gotten back to the mirror until nearly four in the morning. Then they’d spent a good twenty minutes hiding behind a suit of armor while Professor Kettleburn sat on the steps eating a toasted slice of bread and jam.
They weren’t completely sure if he had been on patrol or had just wanted a snack at four in the morning, but luckily his loud chewing had alerted them to his presence and they had managed to hide before he saw them. So they were only running on about two hours of sleep.
“Where are you going?” he called to Remus who had hurried ahead of them up the steps. Remus looked surprised but happy and stopped, waiting for them to catch up so they could walk with him to their flying lesson.
The boy was funny, but not like the salamander blood incident was funny. Funny strange, funny sad.
James had spotted it when he first walked in. The panic in his eyes as they all looked at him. It was the same way James had felt as a little boy playing at the park when other kids had asked him where his friends were. But it was more than that.
James had been lonely because he’d been somewhere he didn’t belong. Once he had come to Hogwarts he had been fine. This boy was different. Even though they had invited him to sit with them he seemed surprised every time they talked to him during class. Even now he was trying to ditch them, not because he wanted to but because he thought they wanted him to.
Remus had a fresh scar across his cheek and James couldn’t help wondering if it was part of the reason. Something had happened to this boy to make him think he was unlovable. Perhaps his parents hurt him. James thought of the things Sirius had told him about his mum and dad. Was James the only one with good parents? Were they really that rare?
But that thought triggered a sinking feeling as he remembered the old key now hidden in his dresser drawer. Was it possible his father was secretly a Death Eater? No. Death Eaters didn’t write riddles about helping the kitchen staff and staying true to yourself. Even if the key did lead to the secret chamber he felt certain his Dad intended for him to kill the monster, not release it. Which was why they needed to find that pear.
“Do you play Quidditch?” Sirius asked Remus.
He shrugged. “A little. I used to play with my dad. I’m not great though.”
“’Used to.’ Did he die?” Sirius asked.
James gave him a reproachful look, but Remus only laughed.
"No, he’s just been busy,” he said.
“Hmm, busy. So how come you didn’t come on the Hogwarts Express?” Sirius asked.
Remus looked uncomfortable. “Well, I wasn’t going to come. 'Cause my Mum’s been sick, so I wasn’t going to come to Hogwarts but Dumbledore arranged a way for me to visit her one weekend a month. So I decided to come anyway and he picked me up,” Remus explained all this very fast, still looking uncomfortable. James sensed there was more to the story he wasn’t letting on.
“So, is she dying?” Sirius asked.
James gave his friend an incredulous look. “Shut up,” he muttered, treading hard on his foot. Remus clearly didn’t want to talk about it. His friend had no tact.
“What?” Sirius said defensively.
Remus shook his head. “She's not dying.”
“Well, that’s good,” James said. “I’m sorry she’s sick. Who do you reckon will fall off their broom first?” he asked, looking suspiciously at the group of kids walking in front of them, clustered together, all looking nervous for the flight lesson. “My money's on the blond,” he whispered, pointing at Alfie Conby, a sandy-blond boy who was wizard-born but had never flown before and kept reassuring the others that it really didn’t look that hard.
Remus laughed, looking relieved at the change of subject.
* * *
Professor Flitwick was the wrong person to teach flying lessons, Lily thought as she watched the Charms teacher turning in circles trying to keep his eyes on everyone at once.
“This is ridiculous,” Sirius whispered to James and Remus who both laughed. Somehow she had ended up right next to Potter and his friends.
“Hold your brooms parallel to the ground and then when I count to three, kick off ever so slightly,” Flitwick instructed.
James rolled his eyes. Both him and Sirius held their brooms almost to the sky, only slightly angled from the vertical. They seemed to know what they were doing so Lily imitated them, adjusting her hold to match theirs.
Until Potter saw her. “Woah, Evans!” he laughed, stepping out of line to help her. “You're gonna break your neck.” He put his hand over hers around the broom and lowered it to where she’d had it before. “You gotta hold it parallel like Flitwick said," he explained, letting go.
“You're not holding it parallel,” she noted.
James nodded. “Because I’ve been flying since I was two years old. You’ll get there,” he promised, “but for now, follow the teacher.” He said this all with an encouraging smile then moved back in line with his friends.
So condescending, so sure of himself, convinced she needed his help, that she had to do things the easy way. James Potter, helping the poor stupid Muggle-born girl who didn’t belong in the Wizarding world and would break her neck if she wasn’t put in her place.
She wasn’t scared, though. Lily wasn’t afraid of heights. She had gone ziplining last summer with her family in Wales. She remembered watching the people in front of her in line panic, but she had felt fine. She was not a scared girl who needed to be protected. She was Lily Evans.
Still, she stayed in the corrected stance, holding her broom parallel. “One,” Flitwick counted. “Two.”
When it was too late for him to do anything about it, she glared at Potter, who was still watching her, and then brought her broom right back up to how she had it before he’d moved it down. She felt satisfied as she saw his eyes fill with shock and horror.
“Three.”
She kicked off the ground and shot straight into the sky. Straight like a rocket.
Lily screamed, and gripped the broom tightly, clinging for her life. She was an idiot. It wasn’t like the zipline. She was going impossibly fast, straight to the sky with no control. She was going to die. She was a hundred feet up, five hundred feet, a thousand. She couldn’t slow down, couldn't do anything but hold on desperately as she shot into the sky. There would be no rescue. She was going to die and she knew it. She would keep going until she ran out of oxygen and then she would pass out and fall oh so very far to the ground.
Suddenly there was someone beside her. His hand grabbed the front of her broom, and he pulled it down with him so it was parallel to the ground. She leveled out as she slowed and finally came to a halt.
It was James Potter. As much as she hated him, at that moment she loved him. He was the most beautiful person she had ever seen.
“Parallel, Evans,” he laughed, but his laugh broke off as he looked in her eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, seeming genuinely concerned.
Lily looked at the ground. This was higher than any zipline. The castle below looked tiny. It was a view for airplanes, not people, and she wasn’t strapped into anything. The only thing keeping her from falling was a flimsy stick of wood she couldn’t control.
He had been right. She didn’t belong here. This was insane.
“No,” she said, her voice breaking as she started to shake.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Potter soothed. “To get down you need to tilt your broom just slightly to the ground.” He demonstrated. Tilting his broom slightly and going down easy and controlled. “That way you’ll go down slowly.”
She nodded. He made it look so easy. She could do this. It almost looked fun. If she was in control it would make all the difference. Her confidence came back to her and she leaned forward, but the moment she did she overbalanced. The broom handle went straight down and she was shooting to the ground.
“SLIGHTLY!” she heard Potter scream. She couldn’t pull out of it. It was impossible. She was headed straight to the earth at an impossible speed.
“Lean back!” James yelled. She knew he was flying after her but he wouldn’t catch up when she was going so fast.
Lily focused all her strength trying to lean back and was able to slow enough for James to catch her broom again and yank it level.
“Okay we’re going to try that again,” he said, catching his breath, seeming flustered but determined. “This time sit back more to keep your balance,” he instructed.
Just like that, so simple, like he was trying to teach her how to kick a ball straight in football. But this wasn’t football. Lily had nearly died twice. Her whole body was still shaking from the trauma. This wasn’t safe; this couldn’t be real.
Her whole time at Hogwarts she had thought it too good to be true. Scared any moment she would wake up in her bed. Now she wished it was. That she could just wake up now in her bed and hear her mum downstairs making breakfast. Be anywhere but a thousand feet in the air, on an unstable broom, with an eleven-year-old boy acting like it was all completely normal.
“No,” Lily cried as the tears in her eyes began pouring down her cheeks. “I can’t do it,” she insisted, looking at the ground that was still so very far away.
James bit his lip, clearly distressed by her tears. “You just need to sit back more and you won’t overbalance,” he encouraged.
Lily was sobbing now, too afraid to even be embarrassed. She had almost died twice. If she tried again she knew she would shoot straight down. But she had no choice. She was so far off the ground. She had to get down. But her shaking arms wouldn’t even let her try.
“I can’t,” she sobbed. She knew it didn’t matter, knew she had to, but all she wanted was to be back on the ground. To wake up in her bed and find this had all been a dream.
James bit his lip. “It’s okay; I have an idea. I’m gonna try to get on your broom so I can fly us both down. Don’t move yet—” he warned, “—but for me to steer I need to be in front. When I first get on my weight is going to force us to the ground so I’m going to need you to be ready to lean back as far as you can. Alright?”
She nodded. It was still scary but she would feel safer if he was with her.
“Okay,” he said and he moved towards her. She hated how effortlessly he glided over and then pulled up alongside her. “Ready?” he asked.
“Ready,” she said.
He swung his leg over the side of his broom and jumped onto hers. They plummeted downward but somehow James managed to stay holding on. They both pushed back with all their combined strength and the diving broom finally slowed and leveled.
“We did it!” James cheered. Lily laughed too, relieved, but she was still crying. The broom was still shaking, not as controlled as when Potter had been flying on his own.
“Alright, Lily,” he said, using her first name for the first time. “I’m gonna need you to hold on to me,” he explained. “The more combined our weight is, the easier it will be for me to steer.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist obediently and closed her eyes, holding on and not looking down as she felt them descend. She heard a round of cheers as they neared the ground. She looked down and saw the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students all clapping and shouting up at them. They landed gently and James grinned back at her. But now that they were on the ground, the fear was gone and her embarrassment set in.
She was a fool. A stupid Muggle-born girl. And James Potter was a hero. All the students knew it. She knew it. She was humiliated. Hated that he had been right, hated that she had needed him. So instead of returning his smile, she turned and ran for the castle.
* * *
There were people who said that greatness brought pride and corruption. Sirius didn’t think that was necessarily true. There were some people who were born to be great, whose many achievements just made them more humble and modest. Albus Dumbledore was one of those people. James Potter was not[36] .
Sirius realized this after his friend saved that girl in flying class and became the school hero. James had certainly let it get to his head. As he watched his friend strut through the school, Sirius couldn’t help thinking of the time his uncle Alpherd had purchased seven male peacocks to make his gardens look more impressive. He could still see them strutting around his uncle's estate, their beaks stuck in the air with an almost regal confidence as if they thought a couple puffs of fancy, vibrantly colored plumage made them better than all the other useless chickens.
It didn’t, and Sirius had tried not to stare—he had not wanted to encourage them—but he kept looking. He could help it. So he knew the walk well enough to recognize that his friend was walking with exactly the same strut, his back arched and chin jutted forward in perfect imitation of a peacock[37] . He wished he could force the school not to look.
When they’d walked back from Charms, Sirius had felt like he was walking with a celebrity rather than an eleven-year-old first-year. The rest of the school was doing nothing to help bring James Potter back to earth. The story of his impressive flight and daring rescue spread through the school like a wildfire, helped along by the fact that Flitwick had awarded Gryffindor fifty points after the event. So now, even older students who hadn’t been at the lesson cheered and applauded when the boys passed. Frank Longbottom, who was captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, even high-fived James in the hallway.
Everyone was impressed, everyone thought he was wonderful and brave, and that meant the task of humbling his friend fell completely on Sirius's shoulders. And he would do it.
But first, he could use it. The idea struck him as he watched James sitting in a plush armchair in the Gryffindor common room, his feet up on the armrest, surrounded by his many admirers. Perhaps the only useful thing about peacocks was the way they could attract a crowd. Sirius thought back to the clue James’s father had given them: Now if you heed my next clue and you tickle the pear, you will meet some new friends all too eager to share.
Now, Sirius was not looking to open the Chamber of Secrets. But after hearing the two clues and the note at breakfast he agreed with James that killing Muggle-borns was not his father's end goal. Still, this wasn’t any meaningless treasure hunt either. Whatever the clues led to, the secret tunnel out of Hogwarts had been enough to convince Sirius that it was important.
The trick was where to find the pear. He and James had both grabbed pears at breakfast. They had tried tickling them to no effect besides the judgemental side-eye[38] they got from Alfie. So Sirius was pretty sure it wasn’t talking about tickling an actual pear. Perhaps a ghost named Pear? Or an animal? The assignment to tickle it made Sirius think it was something living.
Which left them at a disadvantage as students didn’t take care of magical creatures until third year, but the peacock had attracted a whole useful crowd of older students who would probably be eager to help the brave young hero.
“I just had a thought,” Sirius said, closing his course book, The Charmers Companion: A Wizard's Guide to Spellbinding Success, and interrupting James’s story about the time he caught a Snitch right before it flew into a Muggle playground. (Sirius had already heard it three times.)
“What?” James asked.
“Do you guys want to help us with something?” Sirius asked the gathered crowd.
He had their attention now. Reggie Vane, a fifth-year student who played on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, looked intrigued and Sophie Bell, a pretty girl with shoulder length golden curls who had been hanging on James’s every word, nodded vigorously, blue eyes wide.
“We need to find a pear,” Sirius said in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Brilliant!” James declared, sitting up straight and looking excited.
“A pear?” fourth-year Emma Thomas asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah,” James said. “But it might not be an actual pear. It could be a name, a statue.”
“An animal,” Sirius added.
“Why?” fourth-year Jacob Lovegood asked.
“That’s top secret, mate!” James said with a mischievous smile.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had been faithfully working on his homework until this point looked up, eyes narrowed curiously.
“No point in wasting time,” James said, jumping to his feet.
Though it had been Sirius’s idea, he was honestly shocked by the multitude of people who followed them out of the portrait hole. Most of them likely had no idea what was going on but were driven forward by some animal instinct to join the masses.
“What are we doing?” Sirius heard Frank Longbottom ask Fabian Prewett.
“I have no idea,” he whispered back.
“When you find something, show it to either me or Sirius. We'll tell you if it’s the right one,” James shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth so everyone could hear him.
“You can get other Gryffindors to help but don’t tell the Slytherins!” Sirius cautioned. The crowd muttered their agreement.
“What are we doing?” Fabian called out.
“Looking for pears!” Emma Thomas answered.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” James asked, clapping his hands in excitement and jumping up. “Let’s get to it!”
And the crowd dispersed, running to search every nook and cranny of the castle.
* * *
Poppy sat on Lily’s bed running her comb through her long red hair. She pieced out the strand and then placed the comb in her mouth so that her fingers were free to braid and twist. Her hands worked effortlessly twisting and pinning it up in the perfect spot. Not a hair slipped away or got tangled. Poppy never had to worry about that.
They had missed Charms. Lily had told Poppy she could leave her and go to class, but Poppy knew Lily didn’t actually want to be alone. So Poppy had just sat with her, smoothing the brush gently through Lily's hair, neither one of them talking.
Lily had thanked her for staying; she thought she was just comforting her but Poppy was reassuring herself just as much. It was weird, but ever since Poppy left Olivander's shop and given her mother's bag to Lily she felt like a much larger weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She no longer felt cursed. It was like fate no longer cared what happened to her; all the promises of destiny and doom had simply vanished and she was just a normal girl, not meant for greatness or loss, just Poppy.
It was such a relief. She felt so safe and free and she would have been happy. Except that same shadow that had always followed her around now hung over Lily's head.
It was stupid, it wasn’t real, but she saw it so clearly. Lily, who had just been an ordinary girl when they’d met, now seemed to be marked by fate. Lily had spent all of last night studying by wand light determined to do well. She had taken the prefects so seriously and seemed so set on doing everything right. It was like she was chasing something, preparing because she knew that one day everything she was would be put to the test and she was running out of time. Poppy recognized that feeling. She had felt that pressure her whole life, but now she didn’t and Lily did.
Had she done that? When she had given her mother's bag to that freckle-faced girl with her books in the mud, had she also given her Poppy's destiny? She had not meant to—and accidental magic was all about intent—but she had meant to get rid of it. She had wanted to let go of her fate but she had not realized that letting it go might mean someone else had to catch it. That in leaving it behind she was giving it away and Lily was the one she had given it to.
She didn’t know how to take it back. It was like fate was teasing Poppy with all the little accidents that now surrounded her friend: first a whisper about the Chamber of Secrets, then the mermaid dragging her into the water, and now her skyrocketing off in flying lessons, but she was fine now. Lily was here and she was safe, and it was probably all just in Poppy’s head. Her curse and that shadow had never been real, just a fixation of her imagination. The result of an early loss she had been too young to properly process or even to remember.
Poppy told herself this over and over as she stroked her brush through Lily's hair until she almost believed it was true. Poppy finished her complicated braid and admired it for a moment, then took it out and brushed through Lily’s hair, ready to start a new one.
“You don’t have to stay with me,” Lily muttered into her lap. Poppy kept brushing. They had already missed Herbology and history of magic had been canceled due to some dispute between the giant squid and the merpeople that had escalated enough to demand the attention of all the staff. It was almost dinner now, but Poppy had no intention of leaving Lily's side.
“I’m just so embarrassed!” Lily said, grabbing the pillow and pummeling it with her fist. She sighed and lay back on the bed so she was looking at Poppy upside down. “I just hate that now I’m the stupid Muggle girl who can’t fly and I always will be, because there’s no way I’m getting back on that thing!”
“You're not a Muggle,” Poppy said, lying down beside her and kicking her feet up so they rested on the white wall.
“Tell that to the Slytherins,” Lily laughed. A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away. “And maybe they're right; maybe I don’t belong here.” She sniffed, staring at the wooden panel above her bed.
“Don’t say that, of course you do. None of the others did much better after you left. Alfie didn’t even get up. Like, you should have listened to the teacher, but learning to fly well takes years. No one gets it on their first try."
“I know,” Lily said. “I just wanted to be great, you know?” She looked up at Poppy sadly.
Poppy’s heart sank. She did know. Lily said she wasn't getting back on that broom but Poppy knew she would. She would keep trying, keep getting into trouble, continue sticking her hand in the water trying to get the mermaids to drown her, keep getting excellent marks in Potions and making Slytherins angry … and she would be great. Just like Poppy’s mother had been great. But Poppy didn’t want Lily to be a legend or an inspiration. She just wanted her to be her friend. Just somebody ordinary. Fate didn’t care about ordinary people. Ordinary people got to live.
“Have you ever heard of Ultima Vontum?” Poppy asked.
Lily's brow furrowed in confusion. "No.”
“It’s a pretty rare charm,” Poppy said
Lily perked up. “Will it give me the power to be able to fly like James Potter on a broomstick?”[39]
Poppy laughed. “No; it’s not even an incantation. It’s supposed to be a last wish or last regret and can only be cast when a witch or wizard dies suddenly and unexpectedly.”
Lily grinned. “Who do I have to kill?”
Poppy laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe, Lily laughed too. “Sorry,” she said, composing herself. “Tell me what it does.” Lily tried to look serious.
Poppy went on. “We all have things that we look forward to or put work into and expect to see accomplished, and sometimes when a witch or wizard dies they have a moment when they realize that they’ll never see it happen.”
“That’s sad,” Lily said, looking sorry.
“And so sometimes, if it’s their very last thought, then when they die, instead of spreading, all their magic focuses on accomplishing that last wish. And that’s Ultima Vontum.”
Lily nodded solemnly but she looked a little confused, as if she wasn’t quite sure what the purpose of the impromptu Charms lesson was.
“My mother was great. She was in the middle of everything that really mattered and was important, and do you know what her Ultima Vontum was?” Poppy asked.
Lily gave a slightly strangled noise. Her eyes went wide. She looked horrified and unsure what to say to Poppy’s casual mention of her murdered mother.
Poppy couldn't help but laugh. “It was teaching me to make Battenberg cake,” she continued.
Lily furrowed her brow, now looking more confused than horrified.
“I know!” Poppy laughed.
Lily laughed too. “That's so niche!”
“Isn’t it!” Poppy agreed, still laughing.
“How? What! Why?” Lily asked, completely bewildered.
“I don’t know. I guess my Nan taught my mum and my aunt how to make them when they were kids and it was kind of a special thing. Then, when I was three years old, I just made a perfect Battenberg cake one day and my aunt started crying and my dad was just confused. I guess it was something my mom had always talked about doing with me and so we knew it was her Ultima Vontum,” Poppy said.
Lily looked like she was going to cry again.
“That’s really sweet,” she said wiping her eyes, “… will you make me a Battenberg cake?” They both burst into another wave of giggles.
“Yes,” Poppy promised. “But my point is that if my mum, who was clever, important, and talented, if her biggest regret when she died was not getting the chance to teach me to make a cake … then, maybe being great isn’t what matters most. Understand?”
“Understand,” Lily agreed.
“Great,” Poppy said, sitting up. “So can we please go down to the common room now?”
“Okay,” Lily groaned, rolling out of the bed dramatically and getting to her feet. “But if James Potter is down there, I’m coming straight back upstairs.”
But when they got down the steps they found only a couple of seventh-years in the common room, working on homework. “Where is everyone?” Lily asked.
“They went looking for pears,” Arthur Weasley, said looking amused.
“What? Why?” Lily asked, confused.
Arthur shook his head. “No idea. James Potter needs them for some reason. Hey, is one of you Lily Evans?”
“Me. Why?” Lily asked suspiciously.
“Professor Slughorn wanted me to give this to you,” he said, holding out a letter. Lily took it and ripped it open eagerly. Arthur smiled. “You must have really impressed him. He’s pretty exclusive with his invitations.”
Lily pulled out the parchment. It was a fancy invitation with green and gold trim. Poppy looked over and read the letter over her shoulder.
Lily Evans,
I must say I was impressed by your work in class today. As a teacher, I make an effort to notice exceptionally talented students and to connect them with other gifted students and influential people outside of the school who might assist them in their future endeavors. I would be honored if you would attend our first gathering, which will be a dinner in my rooms at 7 o'clock tonight.
Professor Horace Slughorn
“Well, Slughorn doesn’t think you're an idiot,” Poppy said when she finished reading.
“I guess not,” Lily agreed. “Should I go?”
“Of course!” Poppy said.
Arthur Weasley shrugged and nodded. “I would recommend it. Professor Slughorn set one of my friends up with a job at the Ministry of Magic as soon as he graduated.”
Poppy looked impressed. “You’ll have to tell me all about it. I kind of want to know who else in the school is considered exceptionally gifted,” she said.
“But what will you do?” Lily asked. She sounded guilty but Poppy did not feel abandoned or left out so she only grinned back.
“Figure out what this whole pear thing is about,” Poppy laughed. Lily groaned and rolled her eyes.
* * *
Lily had thought she would feel nervous walking though the castle alone but it was actually more exciting. She skipped down the steps of the grand staircase. She was wearing a white cotton dress instead of her normal school robes. The invitation had not told them to dress up but Lily took the hint from the wax-sealed invitation that fancier was better in Slughorn’s book. Even if other students weren’t dressed up, Lily thought he would appreciate the gesture.
She opened the dungeon door, not at all nervous, but there was no sign of a party. The Potions room was nearly empty; the only person inside was a boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen. He had dark hair and seemed annoyingly familiar. Lily knew she recognized him but couldn’t think where from. He was rummaging through a stack of papers but looked up when she walked in.
The boy smiled at her. “Aha! There’s always one,” he said.
Lily was confused. Her eyes flicked to the clock. Maybe she was early? No, it was two minutes to 7:00 and no indication of a dinner.
“You're looking for Slughorn's party, right?” the boy asked, licking his finger and sorting the papers into separate stacks.
“Yeah,” Lily said.
The boy nodded. “The invite said ‘room,’ not ‘classroom.’ The party’s in Slughorn's office,” he explained.
“Oh,” Lily said, feeling stupid.
The boy laughed but not at her. Like they were sharing a joke. “Yeah, I made the same mistake my first year,” he explained, shaking his head. “Thought the invite had been some kind of practical joke and went back to my dorm. Only to have Slughorn ask me the next day why I had missed his party.”
Something about this boy made her feel comfortable. Which was weird because he should have been intimidating. He was good looking, dressed in a tailored suit with silk cuffs that looked expensive. His dark hair was just long enough it might’ve fallen into his face, but Lily somehow knew it never did because everything about this boy was perfect, from his polished shoes to his deep blue eyes.
It should have made her feel insecure, except there was something about his casual mannerisms that was so friendly. The way he spoke to her as an equal even though he was a few years older made Lily feel like he wasn’t full of himself. His laugh put her at ease and she found herself laughing too.
“That’s awful! Where’s the office?” she asked.
The boy put the stack of papers in the desk drawer and closed it shut. “Yeah, I’ll take you in a minute. Let’s just wait a bit and see if any other stragglers show up.” He walked around and sat on a desk then patted on the spot beside him in a motion for her to join. Lily did, using her arms to pull herself onto the desk and letting her legs dangle in the air same as his.
“I’m Regulus, by the way, Regulus Black,” the boy said, as if he’d suddenly realized that he had not introduced himself. Lily realized at last why he looked so familiar! He looked like his brother, Sirius. She also felt a little pit in her stomach thinking of Narcissa. If they were related then maybe he hated Muggle-borns too.
“Lily. Lily Evans,” she said.
Regulus laughed. “Weren’t you the girl who took a full five minutes to be sorted?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Lily said.
“What was that about?” He laughed.
Lily sighed. “It was trying to put me in a house I didn’t want to be in,” she explained.
He waved his wand and a bottle of shimmering liquid and two crystal glasses appeared in mid air. He took the bottle and uncorked it with his teeth then poured the foaming liquid into one of the crystal glasses and offered it to her. She looked at it dubiously. He grinned. “It’s just cider; you're, like, eleven.”
She smiled, accepted the glass, and took a sip.
“Which house?” Regulus asked, pouring some for himself.
“Slytherin,” she confessed.
He smiled and took a sip. “That’s my house,” he admitted.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be. We’re not exactly popular right now,” he laughed. “Even with Slughorn. He says he chooses based on talent alone but pay attention at the party; you won’t find a single Slytherin or Muggle-born student. He’s too much of a snob and doesn’t want to get attached to a potential Death Eater.”
“You're not invited to the party then?” Lily asked.
He grinned. “No, I am,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “He's already too attached to me.” He drained his glass.
“I guess we’re both exceptions then,” Lily said.
“Nah,” Regulus said, refilling his glass. “He invites first-years all the time.” He held up the bottle and raised his eyebrows offering her more. She raised her glass so he could top it off though she hadn’t drunk much. She was starting to feel a touch of anxiety. Did Slughorn think she was wizard-born?
“So Lily Evans,” Regulus said, looking conspiratorial, “are you especially talented … or are you well-connected?”
Lily laughed. “Neither,” she confessed.
He raised his eyebrows. “You must be one or the other. He always invites people for a reason. If you didn’t do anything impressive then you must be related to someone impressive—and don’t think he doesn’t know. Slughorn knows the families of every student who comes into his classroom. If you have a famous connection, he knows about it even if you didn’t tell him. Trust me.”
Lily felt a wave of relief. So he did know she was Muggle-born. She took a sip. “Sort of talent, then, but it wasn’t really me,” she confessed, thinking of Severus and what Regulus had said about Slytherins never being invited. Though he had made an exception for her she seriously doubted he had made one for Severus. Lily felt a little guilty using his talent and hard work to leverage herself even more.
Regulus looked curious. “Tell me more.”
Lily sighed. “Well, I dropped my Potions book in the mud outside Flourish and Blotts and I couldn’t read the instructions, so I just copied another boy in class. He’d added his own hair to the potion, which wasn’t in the instructions, and I did it too.” She took a sip while he watched her, waiting for her to finish. She swallowed. “Anyways, the potion turned out really good and Slughorn was impressed.”
Regulus laughed aloud. “So you were invited because you took credit for another student's idea?” he said.
“Kind of,” she confessed.
He raised his glass to her in a toast. “I agree with the hat. You would have made a good Slytherin,” he declared, smiling, amused, and taking another sip.
She almost told him that she had told Slughorn that she had been copying Severus, that it had been his idea to add the hair, and he had invited her anyways, but she didn’t. Partly because she knew it didn’t really make a difference. She had taken credit for his work. She knew what she should do now that she knew Severus wasn’t invited. She should refuse to go unless Severus was also invited as well. That would have been the Gryffindor thing to do, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t because that would be stupid.
Offending Slughorn now would do no one any good and might cost her the opportunity to make some very valuable connections. Connections she didn’t have. She was Muggle-born and limited in her choice of friends. If she was ever going to make it in the wizarding world she was going to need someone like Slughorn to help her meet the right people. So, she chose to put what was practical before what was noble and Regulus Black approved of her decision, but why did that make her feel so proud?
The dungeon door swung open and Horace Slughorn poked his head in.
“Aha!” he said, delighted. He stepped in wearing an emerald green suit that seemed a little tight ‘round his middle. “Regulus, I see you’ve met Miss Evans. Truly extraordinary! A talent for potions that I’ve never seen in a girl her age, especially not in a Muggle-born.”
Regulus gaped at her, stunned mouth open. The change in his face made Lily want to shrivel inside. He looked completely betrayed, as if she had deliberately misled him.
Slughorn didn’t notice. “Well, we’d best hurry. Food’s getting cold,” he said in that same cheery voice.
“I actually have some homework to finish,” Regulus said dully, not meeting Lily's eyes.
“Surely you can spare an hour for a bite to eat,” Slughorn insisted.
“Afraid I can’t,” Regulus said, hopping off the counter and grabbing his bag. He walked straight out the door without even saying goodbye to Slughorn.
The Professor looked after him, stunned. Then he turned, smiled at Lily, and held out his arm. “Well then. Shall we?”
* * *
Remus watched James come running back down the aisle.
“Any luck?” Sirius asked.
“Nah,” James said. “You?”
“Nope," Sirius sighed, dropping The Quidditch Cookbook: Flying Feasts and Game-Day Grub on top of one of the towering stacks of books on the library table. After searching the castle fruitlessly [40] [41] (in multiple respects), the Gryffindors had finally resorted to the one place that seemed to have an overabundance of pears, or at least, references to them. Unfortunately, they seemed to be getting nowhere with this line of thought. James and Sirius had remained very secretive about why they needed to find a pear and how to tell if it’s the right one so the Gryffindors had searched in pairs for pears [42] in the tomes of the library, and when someone found any mention of one, Sirius and James had instructed them to stay by the book and send their friend to come get one of them. They then sent everyone in that aisle away while they checked if it was, in fact, the pear in question.
It had been nearly two hours, and they had barely gotten through the cooking section. The Gryffindors had worked tirelessly and had nothing to show for it but several teetering stacks of books covering two tables. Still the Gryffindors remained vigilant.
Except Remus. Remus could spot a lost cause, so he sat at one of the few bare tables, working on his homework and quietly observing the chaos.
James sighed. He stared out at the long line of people and ran a hand through his hair, looking overwhelmed. His eyes settled on Remus sitting at the table and he smiled.
“Come with me,” he said.
“What?” Remus asked, surprised.
“You’ve been promoted,” James said, dragging him off his chair to an empty section of the library, where no one would hear what they were saying.
“We need someone else to help inspect the pears,” James explained, looking exhausted. “If I tell you the secret, do you promise not to tell anyone?” he asked.
Remus was stunned and really quite pleased. He was starting to feel more and more that Potter actually wanted to be his friend. “Sure,” he said. Potter stared at him.
“Raise your right hand and repeat after me,” he instructed. Remus rolled his eyes but lifted his right hand in imitation of James. “I, Remus … What's your surname again?” James asked.
“Lupin,” Remus said.
“Ah, yes,” James said, “I, Remus Lupin.” He looked at Remus expectantly.
“I, Remus Lupin,” Remus repeated, trying hard not to laugh.
“Solemnly swear to never reveal the information revealed to me now by James Potter regarding the pear and secret passage hidden in the school.”
“Wait, what?” Remus asked, feeling the blood rush out of his face. He looked around the room, stricken, thinking of the passage Dumbledore had shown him concealing the place where he was supposed to hide each month. Had Potter found it? Remus could feel his heart begin to pound as he started to panic.
“Repeat it and I’ll tell you,” Potter insisted.
“Solemnly swear to never reveal the information revealed to me now, by James Potter, regarding the pear and secret passage hidden in the school,” Remus repeated, already planning to break his promise and tell Dumbledore immediately[43] if James had in fact found the passage he was thinking of.
“Great,” James said. “I’ll explain more later, but basically, me and Sirius got a clue that led us to a secret passage out of the school behind an old mirror on the fourth floor. Our next clue is to tickle a pear and we're thinking that will lead us to another passage. So we need your help tickling pears. We want to do it beside the spot where the book was found—in case it opens a passage nearby.”
Remus felt relieved that they hadn’t in fact discovered his passage, but decided to stay close to this, as they seemed headed in that direction. “Do you really think it will be in a book?” Remus asked.
James sighed, seeming stressed, “No, but I’m not ruling it out. So I’m game to keep looking as long as people are willing to help,” he explained, looking overwhelmed. “‘Cause if it is in a book, I’m never gonna find it on my own.”
“Okay,” Remus said. They walked back to the main body of people.
“Alright, everyone!” James shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth. The Gryffindors froze and turned to listen. “You can have your pears inspected by Remus now as well,” he informed them.
Remus’s eyes went wide as a whole crowd of people started moving towards him, but he was spared the work by the timely arrival of Madam Pince. The batty librarian with rimmed specs had likely heard James shout and come to investigate. She stared in absolute horror at the tables piled high with disorganized books. Her eyes lingering on The Sorcerer's Spice Rack: Mystical Herbs and Spices for Every Dish which Peter Pettigrew was flipping through as he munched on a pumpkin pasty, leaving buttery crumbs all over the pages, and Fantastic Feasts and Where to Cook Them: A Magical Culinary Journey which had fallen to the ground, spine open, and lay with its pages pressed into the carpet, as no one had bothered to pick it back up.
“Out!” she screamed. “Get out!” And the Gryffindors all stampeded out of the library and back up to the common room.