Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Friends and Foes
Lily bit into her toast. The bread felt strange in her mouth as she chewed. Like her body had forgotten about food and wasn’t sure what to do with it anymore. She swallowed the lump, forcing it down, and set her toast back down on her plate. She didn’t want it. Her eyes were trained on the Slytherin table.
She watched as Narcissa Black whispered her notes to a group of other first-years while they copied down her words with feathered quills. “Water: Aguamenti. Unlocking Charm: Alohomora. Darkness: Anteoculatia[44] .” That would be for Charms. Professor Flitwick had asked everyone to come prepared with a completed list of basic charms and some of them had obviously put it off to the last minute.
Lily wanted to believe that the Slytherins were all selfish and cruel, but there they were, helping each other. Yeah they were cheating, but they were cheating together and somehow that didn’t seem so wrong. She looked at them longingly.
It had been fine not knowing, when she could just reject the people who rejected her and pretend she wasn’t missing out on anything, but she knew better now. She wanted to be in Slytherin.
Lily sighed and climbed off the bench. “What’s up?” Poppy asked when she stood up.
“I just need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back,” Lily explained. She needed to walk and clear her head.
She headed towards the back of the Great Hall just as a group of Slytherins came in. She recognized one of them by his familiar dark hair and blue eyes. Regulus Black. The last person she wanted to see right now.
Lily was right in front of him. She knew he could see her but his eyes were dull and held no recognition. Tears burned in her eyes and she focused on keeping it together as she walked out the Great Hall and to the bathroom.
She pulled the large wooden door open and ran inside. Luckily she was the only one in there so no one saw the tears fall down her face as she walked over to the smooth porcelain sink on a mound shaped like a badger. Except her. She stared at her reflection in the glass, the face she knew, its green almond-shaped eyes red with tears. She knew herself, but she wanted to be known.
Lily didn’t want to be brave, she wanted to be the best. She loved Gryffindor, loved Poppy, but she wasn’t like her. One flying lesson had been enough to prove that. Lily wasn’t brave, she wasn’t noble, but she was ambitious, smart, and determined. She was starting to think that maybe the Sorting Hat had been right. She hadn’t even considered that she’d made a mistake until she'd been sitting on that desk in Slughorn's office, talking to a Slytherin boy, and had felt for the first time like she didn't need to hide, like she was with someone like her.
But she didn’t belong in Slytherin, because she was Muggle-born. The people who could accept her for who she was couldn’t get past what she was. And what about the people who didn’t mind what she was? What would they do if they found out who she was, really? That she was a fraud, that the Sorting Hat had tried to put her in Slytherin but she hadn’t let it? Would they hate her too? Would Poppy pass by her the way Regulus just had?
* * *
James walked down the corridor, his breakfast in hand. Sirius and Remus were eating in the Great Hall but James was determined. He took a bite of his oatmeal, scanning the walls, chandeliers and doorknobs, searching for pears. His eyes landed on the door to the girls' bathroom. Well, he couldn’t check in there, he’d have to ask one of the Gryffindor girls to do it for him. He looked down at his father’s note for the millionth time hoping to gain some additional insights.
Rules can be good but keep this in mind: when you break the rules there’s a new truth to find. For some rules are meant just to keep you in place, to hide deep the truths some think too hard to face
James stared at the bathroom door as a realization struck him. He looked back at the note and then back at the bathroom door. When you break the rules there’s a new truth to find… Of course! To find the clue, he’d have to break the rules. Rules like … searching in the girls’ bathrooms? He grinned.
James checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching then ducked inside. The door had already swung shut behind him before he realized his mistake. The bathroom was occupied, there was a girl there already, crying. It seemed like the worst outcome possible, and he turned to go, but then she looked up and saw him and he realized it was Lily Evans. Her eyes got really wide.
“Hi, Evans!” James blurted, feeling awkward. “... Are you okay?” He felt awful. Why was she crying? Why was she always crying?
Lily suddenly didn’t look sad anymore. No, she looks mad. “Potter!” she shrieked, like he had just walked in on her changing, not simply crying. “This is a girls’ bathroom. What are you doing?”
He looked down at the oatmeal in his hand then back at her and gulped. “Looking for pears?” he explained.
“Get out!” she ordered, pointing at the door.
He bit his lip. Though he wanted nothing more than to run for the door and pretend this never happened, she had been crying.
“Is something wrong? Can I help?” he asked.
“Out!” she insisted, with a deadly glare.
So he turned to leave, but walked straight into another trap as the door shut behind him. Professor McGonagall’s nostrils flared as James walked headlong into her. “Potter!” she hollered shrilly. James cringed. Did all girls have to yell the same way?
“Professor!” he said, wide-eyed.
“That is a ladies’ bathroom.”
“Got lost,” he muttered.
At that moment Lily walked out of the bathroom, wiping her eyes and looking pointedly away from James. If Lily Evans had looked angry before, it was nothing to the way McGonagall looked now. She went stiff as a board the moment she saw Evans, and clearly thought he had been the one to make her cry.
“Detention, Potter!” she barked, “You will meet me in my office every day after class and I will give you an assignment.”
“Every day?” James complained, eyes wide.
“Every day for a month,” she continued, and James looked down, deflated. That seemed to satisfy her and she walked away. James folded his father's parchment and stuffed it into his pocket. He was going to have to get someone to show him where her office was. He stared down at his half-finished bowl of oatmeal. Tomorrow he would just eat in the Great Hall with everyone else.
* * *
Poppy wondered who made the food as she dipped her buttered toast into the sauce of her grilled tomatoes. The variety suggested that there must be an impressive kitchen staff but Poppy had never seen any of them and she doubted the teachers would have time.
She wondered if it was made somewhere else. It made sense since the food was magically summoned every morning. Maybe there was a magical kitchen somewhere far away where witches and wizards made food for children they would never meet. The thought made her feel a little wistful; it was bittersweet in that whoever the chefs were, they made the food perfectly, knowing they would not get any recognition for it.
Poppy had asked Molly Prewett who the Hogwarts chefs were and even she didn’t know. It was weird that you could eat food prepared by someone for years and never even know their name. Poppy’s father had never been much of a cook so a home cooked meal had always been something Poppy appreciated and never something she took for granted until now. At Hogwarts there was always a mouthwatering variety of delicious options every time Poppy walked into the Great Hall. It was like having a mother, having someone cook for her every day. Poppy sipped her pumpkin juice and hoped that whoever made the food knew how grateful she was.
“You know you can have more,” Penelope laughed, looking at how thoroughly Poppy had cleaned her plate.
Poppy smiled. “I know.” She wasn’t still hungry, she just hated to waste any of it.
The grand doors of the Great Hall suddenly swung open, and everyone’s eyes turned towards the entrance. Professor Dumbledore stepped through, drenched from head to toe. His usually immaculate robes clung to his body and water flowed down his long silver beard.
The headmaster walked through the Great Hall completely composed, even though small puddles formed beneath his feet with each step he took, leaving a trail of wet footprints in his wake. The room fell into a hushed silence as students and staff alike watched in awe and curiosity.
The silence turned to applause led by Fabian Prewett and Frank Longbottom, who both gave wild whoops of appreciation, jumped to their feet and started clapping. The rest of the hall joined them soon after; except the Slytherins, who seemed more disappointed by the headmaster’s return.
Dumbledore acknowledged the cheers with a grateful smile. He waved at some students as he walked like they were good friends. Poppy was surprised how many he knew. Sure, he was the headmaster, still it seemed odd to her how well he seemed to know so many of the kids. The man was famous. As he made his way towards the staff table, the applause subsided and the room grew quiet, the air heavy with anticipation. Dumbledore had missed the start of term feast and the entire first day of classes. Something that had never happened before. People had worried. There had been whispers, Perhaps now they would find out where he had been and why he had missed the start of term.
Dumbledore addressed the room. “Welcome!” he said with a broad smile. “I am very sad to have missed your arrival but am very pleased to see so many old and new faces. I’ll spare you a speech as you soon must be heading off to your classes. However I did want to take the opportunity to inform you all to stay out of the lake.”
A wave of muttering and whispers went down the hall and Dumbledore smiled and spoke over the noise.
“Hopefully we will have the situation resolved before our end of year graduation ceremony but I regret to inform you that it is off limits until further notice. Now, please go back to enjoying your morning meal,” he finished. He walked back to the staff table and sat down to eat.
“Was he in the lake?” Sophie Bell asked, looking confused.
Alfie nodded. “Dumbledore speaks Mermish, didn’t you know?”
Well, Lily was going to be disappointed. Where was she? Lily should have been back by now. Poppy leaned back and looked down the table to find her walking towards her. Her eyes were red and Poppy knew she had been crying, but Lily smiled and ran towards the table.
Lily lifted Poppy’s mother’s bag off the bench and swung it round her shoulders. “You ready to go?”
“You didn’t eat!” Poppy said, gesturing at her untouched plate.
“I know. I’m not hungry,” she said, and something in her face made Poppy worry that if she pushed it she was going to start crying. Still … that was a lot of food to waste.
Poppy stood up, took one of the silk napkins from the table and grabbed three strawberries, a sausage and two strips of bacon from Lily’s plate, then swung her own bag over her shoulder. “I’m ready.”
Lily eyed the napkin in Poppy’s hand. “I’m not going to eat that,” she warned.
“I know,” Poppy said, biting into a strip of bacon.
Lily laughed and then followed Poppy out of the Great Hall. “I’m so nervous!” she said, looking sick as they ascended the grand staircase.
“Don’t be!” Poppy said, biting into a strawberry. She wasn’t nervous; she had heard that Flitwick was not very strict and that Charms was supposed to be one of the easier branches of magic. They got lost when the staircase changed, wandered through a series of archways, and wound up in a large bell tower. The statue of an armored man with a thick mustache poking out of his helm waved at them as they passed by. Lily turned to him. “Do you know where the Charms classroom is?” she asked.
Poppy wasn’t sure why she thought he would answer; he was a statue. Maybe because she was Muggle-born she didn’t know. Poppy felt awkward correcting her so instead she read the silver plaque on the wall as Lily waited for a response that was never going to come.
Sir Alfpuddle of the Cheerful Countenance;
His fame was not won by vanquishing foes in single combat, nor by slaying bloodthirsty dragons, but rather in training yards and sculleries, where his warm and approachable demeanor was celebrated by old friends and newcomers alike.
The statue didn’t respond but did wave to them again as they turned back. They traced back and found Gideon Prewett on the second floor.
“Mind if we follow you?” Poppy asked. Gideon shrugged and nodded, then led them down a narrow hallway. They veered to the left and climbed a rickety wooden ladder to a crawl space that seemed too short to be for people. Poppy eyed it dubiously, but, realizing she had no idea how else to find her way, climbed up after him and Lily.
The corridor was cramped and dimly lit and after five minutes of crawling through the rusty stone on their hands and knees, Poppy was starting to suspect that Gideon actually had no idea where they were going. Just when she was about to despair and suggest to Lily that they try crawling backwards out of the tunnels—she didn’t think they had room even to turn around—the corridor opened up about her. They had escaped their cramped confines.
Poppy saw another ladder and crawl space ahead and groaned, but luckily Gideon didn’t lead them up it. Instead turned down the hall and to her relief it was there. A little wooden door with a hanging sign that read “Charms.” To the left was a perfectly solid marble staircase.
“Thank you!” Lily said
“Why didn’t we just take the stairs?” Poppy asked.
Gideon shrugged. “The stairs move about. The servants’ tunnels are more predictable.”
Poppy’s knees were bruised for ‘predictable.’ She made a mental note to avoid following Gideon Prewett in the future. When they stepped in, Flitwick was already teaching. Standing on a stack of books, the professor was a mere four feet tall but even he wouldn’t have been able to walk through the passages. Poppy wondered why the Hogwarts architect had made them so small.
“Welcome,” he said with a forgiving smile. He had a squeaking voice and slightly pointed ears and Poppy wondered if he was fully human. He waved his wand and three seats appeared on the back table at which sat three potted plants. As she took her seat, Poppy noticed there was a different variety of plant in front of each student. Poppy, Lily and Gideon all sat down.
“As I was saying, the focus of today’s lesson will be a rather simple incantation.” He smiled, holding a small potted whisper vine in his hand. He flicked his wand at the bright windows and thick blue curtains closed abruptly over them as if shut by a forceful gust of wind. The room was left surprisingly dark.
“Luminaflora!” The professor squeaked, and a soft glow emanated, starting from the roots of the plant and spreading up to its delicate white petals. The light illuminated Flitwick’s face and he smiled. “The incantation we will be practicing today is Luminaflora. Simply jut your wand forward while repeating the spell.” He demonstrated a motion like hitting a Muggle pool ball. “You are free to start. Let me know if you have any questions.”
Poppy lifted her wand. “Luminaflora!” she said, mimicking Flitwicks motion with her wand and pointing it at her Flutterleaf. Her voice mingled with half a dozen other students but none of the plants started to glow.
“Luminaflora.” Lily repeated in a stern voice, looking at her frostberry bush like it was a disobedient child she was telling off. It didn’t listen.
At the other table, a Ravenclaw girl gave an “oooh!” of delight as her whisker root started to emit a soft glow. Other students gathered around her, admiring it.
“Gah!” Alfie screamed. His fanged geranium bit him on the nose as he’d leaned up close beside it, presumably checking for any hint of light.
Flitwick gasped, then pulled out a satin handkerchief and clamped it around Alfie’s nose. “Keep practicing!” he instructed as he escorted Alfie out the door, presumably to go up to the hospital wing.
“Luminaflora!” Lily tried again, then sighed with relief as the translucent frost-covered berries suddenly started glowing with a soft white light. She smiled and folded her arms on the table, looking at the berry bush in its luminescent radiance. It was beautiful. Lily was lucky it wasn’t a fanged geranium.
There were gasps and exclamations as slowly the spells started to work and the room became softly lit by the enchanted garden. Only a few plants remained dark; Poppy’s was among them. Lily sat up, looking concerned.
Poppy continued chanting the incantation determinedly. All of the Ravenclaws had managed to light theirs, then Penelope Kingsley got hers, at last Theodore Blackwood finished and it was only her and Peter Pettigrew left trying, him squeaking out the incantation in an almost perfect imitation of Professor Flitwick. Poppy felt herself start to panic. It suddenly felt like a race and she didn’t want to be the last one, she didn’t want everyone’s eyes on her, but eventually even Peter got it.
Poppy could feel her mouth grow dry as she was the only one speaking now. “Luminaflora… luminaflora… luminaflora…” she continued insistently. It was humiliating; they could all hear her, were all waiting for her to get it and must be wondering why she was taking so long.
“Try my wand,” Lily whispered, passing it over.
Poppy grasped it in her hand. “Luminaflora,” she whispered and to her utter relief a soft light crept up the brown stem and to the vibrant green leaves that fluttered in acknowledgment like a shining golden butterfly. Lily beamed and Poppy sighed with relief.
Flitwick returned a moment later with Alfie trailing behind him, his nose completely healed. Flitwick smiled approvingly at them all. “Very good class. You are all free to leave,” he said, dismissing them before the bell had even rung.
* * *
By the time they changed into their flying robes Professor Flitwick was already waiting for them on the grounds. Lily smiled awkwardly at him as he passed her a broom with an expression that said he was giving it to her against his better judgment.
They were split into two groups today. The people who had proven they were already competent flyers were playing Quidditch on the other half of the field. Except Potter, who was playing Seeker and kept zooming back and forth looking for the Snitch.
“Remember to keep your brooms parallel to the ground for now.” Flitwick stuttered in a nervous squeak, staring right at Lily. Even though her broom was completely parallel and she bit her lip trying to hide her humiliation. She would have to prove she wasn’t a total idiot with time. The professor breathed a sigh of relief
“When I count to three, kick off gently from the ground. One…. Two… Three!”
The rest of the first years all kicked off and lifted a few inches above the ground. But Lily didn’t. Her legs wouldn’t move and something odd was happening. They were shaking and she was breathing hard but couldn’t seem to get enough air.
The other first years were all staring at her, with looks of pity on their faces. She threw her broomstick to the ground before any of them could do anything to try to help—that would just make it worse— and ran. She ran for the castle but had to stop to sort out her breathing.
This was so stupid! Lily had never been one to cry, but since coming to Hogwarts it seemed to be all she did. She took a few steadying breaths, getting air into her lungs and walked the rest of the way to the castle. Once there, she sank to the ground and put her back against the stone, feeling the warmth of the sun and breathing deeply, taking in the smell of the grass.
She had thought she could do it. In her mind’s eye she could. But, the broom had triggered a panic she had not expected. The fear she had felt hurtling towards the sky was still with her, and the moment she tried to kick off, something else had taken over, making sure she never put herself in that situation again. She wrapped her arms around her knees and set her head down against them, defeated.
* * *
James flew over the Quidditch pitch searching for the golden glimmer of the Snitch. He scanned the grounds and was surprised to see the red hair of Lily Evans among the students in the flying lesson below. He felt strangely proud. He had assumed she would sit out this lesson after what had happened last time, but she was ready to try again.
He still felt bad about what he’d said on the train. He’d told himself that saving her had made up for it, that he was in the clear now, but the way she’d been crying in the bathroom… James thought he knew what that was about. With You-Know-Who’s rise, hatred towards Muggle-borns was becoming more and more prevalent. It bothered him, he couldn’t imagine what it was like to be her. He needed to apologize and explain, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to bring it up. So he kept putting it off.
He swung around, dove, then flew to the other side of the field. James couldn’t help grinning as he felt the wind on his face and rushing through his hair. Sirius hit a Bludger towards him and he laughed and swerved out of the way. This was what he’d wanted: a field and a team. He looked around but again saw nothing so he swept back to the other side. The flying lesson had progressed and the students were gaining elevation, now flying some ten feet above the ground.
He looked for Lily but couldn’t find her. Where was she? He had a moment of fear and scanned the sky, but she wasn’t hurtling towards the clouds, and Flitwick looked too calm for that. He dove down and landed beside Flitwick.
“Where’s Evans?” he asked. Flitwick nodded towards the castle and James saw a redheaded girl sitting on the grass against the stone wall. “What happened?” James asked.
“She couldn’t get off the ground.” Professor Flitwick squeaked.
James bit his lip and mounted his broom, then flew straight to her form, huddled by the castle wall. He landed beside her, still not exactly sure what he was doing.
Lily looked up at him, eyes red. “What do you want?” She sniffed, too upset to sound properly annoyed.
James set down his broom and sat down beside her on the grass, he sighed and leaned his back against the wall. She gave him her deadliest look, daring him to speak.
“What’s your deal?”
James sighed. “Do you have any pears?” he said.
Lily snorted, laughing through her tears in spite of herself. “What’s up with this whole pear thing, anyways?" she asked.
Something funny happened to his brain when she looked at him. Her smile made him feel all fuzzy up and down, and he had trouble thinking of a clever answer. “That’s top secret,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes and sniffed again, looking up at the sky. “Well, I don’t have any pears,” she finally said.
James wasn’t sure how to respond, so he didn’t, just stood there and looked up at the pitch, watching the spinning, diving forms of his classmates, small in the distance. Eventually, Lily turned back and met his eyes as if surprised to see him still there.
“What do you want?” she asked again, holding his gaze with those bright green eyes, searching.
What did he want? “To be friends, I guess,” he admitted.
She looked up at him suspiciously. “Friends?” she said, as if the word was foreign in her mouth. He nodded. Then she looked confused. “Why?” she asked.
James shrugged, “Cause you seem cool,” he said, then hurriedly added, “and I’m really sorry about what I said on the train. It was a joke, but it was awful. I never should have said it and I’m really sorry.”
She looked up at the sky again, “It’s fine. I don’t care,” she said at last, which obviously wasn’t true but James would take what forgiveness he could get.
“So, we’re friends?” he asked, grinning.
She laughed and looked at him like he was mad. “Yeah, we’re friends.” She agreed.
“Brilliant!” he said, grinning. “And, as your friend, I can’t help but notice that you seem to be failing this class,” Lily glared at him and he laughed. “But don’t worry, I’m here to help. Meet me after transfiguration by the mirror on the fourth floor and I’ll show you what the deal is with the pears,” he promised.
“Okay,” Lily said, looking intrigued and suspicious.
Just then, James saw the opposing team’s Seeker dive, tailing a golden glimmer at the edge of the field. He cursed, and jumped to his feet. “See you then!” James shouted, then launched into the air and flew off across the field.
* * *
Okay we should probably go now,” Lily said, looking up at the large brass clock that hung on the wall. It reminded Lily of a compass with its aged appearance and intricate designs, but instead of pointing north the bronze spindles ticked through the numbers written in Roman numerals around the outer rim. They only had twenty minutes. Which would have been plenty of time if it wasn’t for the switching staircases and vanishing corridors. Lily had heard Professor McGonagall was strict on punctuality and she knew arriving on time would make a good first impression. “One sec,” Poppy said, stuffing her mouth full of mash potatoes, then taking a final swig of pumpkin juice. She made a face as the flavors mixed unpleasantly in her mouth and then swallowed. “Okay,” she said “let’s go.” They had just barely stood up from the wooden bench where nearly everyone was still eating and were walking towards the door when Lily felt something warm and mushy hit her in the back and soak into her hair. She turned around and saw Regulus Black standing behind her holding a bowl of gravy and placing the serving scoop indifferently back in the bowl. Having just flicked the contents all over the back of her crimson blazer. “What’s wrong with you?” Lily demanded. He just stood there completely brazen and shrugged
“Sorry, slipped.” He leered looking satisfied and not sorry at all. He moved past them, Set the empty gravy bowel on the crowded Hufflepuff table and walked smoothly out the double doors not looking back. Poppy stared after him looking horrified. She turned back to Lily
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Lily said, taking off her blazer and folding it under her arm. “I just need to run back to the room and drop this off.” And wash my hair she thought as she squeezed some of the lumpy mush out and let it fall to the smooth polished floor.
“I’ll come with you,” Poppy said.
“No!” Lily objected. “You go to class and explain to Professor McGonagall what happened.”
“Okay,” Poppy said. Still looking worried and angry on Lily’s behalf. “I’ll save you a seat.”
“Thanks,” Lily said, placing a greatful hand on Poppy’s shoulder to let her know that she was okay.
They parted ways and Lily ran up the steps. Hopefully she could still make it in time! Strangely Lily wasn’t upset by the gravy. She didn’t mind open hostility as much as being treated like she was invisible. She wondered if Slughorn had seen what had happened from the staff table, Regulus might have been his favorite Slytherin but she knew he wouldn’t approve of him dumping gravy on his precious prodigy.
She got to the seventh floor and turned the corner to the portrait hole. Then screamed as someone jumped out from behind the corner and grabbed her. Regulus Black closed his hand roughly around her mouth blocking out her scream. He pressed his wand at her temple.
“silencio” he whispered.
The sound was taken from Lily's throat. Just gone, her throat burned with the scream but the sound was swallowed up. She felt her panic build, the gravy had not been a harmless offense, it had been a trap. To get her alone.
She tried desperately to escape elbowing him in the chest and scratching at the hand that held her wrist. Regulus let go of her mouth and grabbed her other arm instead. He pulled her arms back behind her back and it hurt. It didn’t make sense. The gravy was one thing but this surely was going too far. What had happened to the boy who had laughed and told her she would make a good Slytherin? He had seemed so normal, so friendly, he wouldn’t just attack her, but he would, he was. Lily screamed and screamed, but no sound came out. She kicked and flung her head back trying desperately to break free but she was hopeless. He was stronger.
He dragged her across the hall. No one saw they were all at lunch or headed to class. The only witness was the portraits on the wall who all looked horrified. The portrait of Eldric the Erudite, an old man who normally sat in the shadow of a sprawling oak tree engrossed in the pages of a thick leather bound tome, completely oblivious to the world around him, was now shouting down at Regulus outraged and throwing his ancient book repeatedly against the glass frame. Graceful Genieve the portrait of a child ballerina watched wide eyed and horrified with a hand pressed to her mouth. Would they tell someone? Could they help her? Could portraits remember things the same as ordinary people, or would Regulus do something to make them forget? They walked towards a tall open widow and Lily fought harder, realizing that she was fighting for her life. He was going to throw her out, she just knew it. He was going to kill her! She swung her head to the side and managed to bite him on the arm.
“Ow!” he exclaimed, then picked her up and squeezed her arms to her chest so she couldn’t do it again. Regulus did it all so casually. Unaffected by her tears, like she was a wild animal and not a girl. Was this boy who had waited in Slughorn's dungeon in case anyone got lost? Who had laughed with her and talked with her? Was he really going to kill her now?
But Regulus passed by the window and instead dragged her to a large wooden door that looked like it had been hastily propped open by a stack of books. In the portrait across the corridor, a man and a troupe of trolls in ballet suits gaped at them.
Regulus shoved her in and slammed the door shut. Lily ran for the door, but before she could even grab the handle it vanished. She stood alone in a doorless room surrounded by nothing but thin white walls. With no way out and no one to hear her scream.