Hogsmeade
Chapter Thirteen
Hogsmeade
Not Lily Evans, not Lily Evans, James thought as he ran up the steps. Poppy had said Lily had gone to get something from her room; she had probably just been leaving when the Dementors had come into the school. Perhaps hid in one of the rooms? He got to the seventh floor and saw a crimson blazer lying on the floor, a sticky sauce on the back of it. He picked it up. Was it hers?
“Lily!” he screamed, then ran and opened the door to a broom cupboard. “Lumos,” he shouted and a light came from the tip of his wand, illuminating the cupboard. He got on his hands and knees and felt to the very back of the closet, holding his breath and moving brooms and mops aside to feel behind them. Praying he would not feel anything as he was not looking for a girl but a body. If Lily Evans was alive she would have come out and would have returned to the common room or the hospital wing. Someone would have seen her. Unless she was wandering around soulless through one of the corridors. That thought was too terrible and he pushed it away. He had heard whispers and knew that the Slytherins had been involved in the attack. Someone had opened the windows. It was possible one of them had hidden her body in the nearest room? He breathed a sigh of relief when his fingers felt only the back of the wall.
He left the broom cupboard and kept walking through the hallway calling her name. Maybe she was still alive, still had her soul. She could’ve passed out or might not know it was safe and be too scared to come out? He passed by an open window and knew it was hopeless. She’d been alone. Alone in the hallway, no teacher or even older student to protect her. His mind flashed back to the look in her eyes when he’d flown after her in flying lessons. Terrified but still brave. Somehow still defiant and determined as tears filled her stubborn green eyes. Was that how she’d looked when she’d faced the dementors? But this time no one had come to save her. Those big green eyes. She had said they were friends. Why had no one come to help her? No! No! No. He refused to believe, refused to think until he knew it for sure.
James paced the hallway. He just wanted to find her. Find her safe and angry like she always was or crying in the bathroom: just alive. Just let her be alive. He stopped in his tracks as a door appeared. Where James could've sworn it had not been before. He looked around. No one was in the hallway. The door was small and unassuming with a simple brass doorknob. He twisted the handle but before he could pull it the door flung open, and he was engulfed in a wave of sticky red hair as Lily threw her arms around him, shaking, sobbing into his shoulder.
Relief flooded through him and he held her tight. She was alive! She was okay! Or was she? It was very unlike the girl who had run from him in flying class and shouted at him in the bathroom to be sobbing on his shoulder. He pulled back and looked at her face to make sure her soul was still intact. It seemed to be; she wiped the tears from her face, her eyes puffy and swollen.
“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked
“Yeah,” she sniffed, trying to smile but still crying. “How did you find me?”
James shrugged. “I don’t know. No one could find you after the attack—“
“Attack!” Lily cut him off looking alarmed.
“The dementors,” James said.
“De-what-ers?” Lily asked
“Dementors,” James said. “The monsters the Slytherins let in the school.”
“Monsters!” Lily exclaimed.
“Didn’t you see them?” James asked, feeling confused.
“Is anyone hurt? Is Poppy okay?” she asked, sounding panicked.
“No. She’s fine; they only went after Muggle-borns.” And Remus. James still wasn’t sure why. “And everyone’s okay. But … if you weren’t hiding from the dementors then what happened? Why were you in that room?”
Lily looked like she was doing some fast thinking. “I just … I don’t know. I walked in and the door disappeared behind me and I couldn’t get out until you showed up.”
James grinned. “That’s brilliant. Bet it was the castle. My dad says it has a mind of its own. Sometimes tries to mess with the students like swapping staircases when we’re on our way to class and stuff but he said one time he was in real danger and it protected him. Bet it knew the dementors were coming and that you were alone so it made the room to keep you safe.”
Lily looked curious. “Maybe,” she said but James got the feeling there was something she wasn’t telling him. Probably had something to do with why she was off alone peeking through empty classrooms while she was supposed to be in class. It seemed Lily had her own secrets.
“What kind of danger was your dad in?” she asked.
James felt stunned realizing he didn’t know and had never thought to ask. He shrugged. “He never said.”
Lily raised her eyebrows. “You should ask him.” Then she looked nervously at the door as it slowly vanished away, confirming James's suspicion that the room had been made by the castle just to protect her.
“What happened to your hair?” he asked, gesturing to the brown sludge.
Lily grabbed it and laughed like she’d forgotten. “A Slytherin slipped on their way past me in the great hall,” she explained.
“Which one?” James asked, feeling angry. He thought of Regulus, how he’d talked about setting a monster on Muggle-borns. How people had spotted Slytherin students opening windows to help let the Dementors in. He was starting to feel like Hogwarts would be better if they just threw the whole lot of them out.
Lily shrugged. “I don’t know his name,” she said, then hurried on as if trying to change the subject. “Class is probably over by now. Didn’t you want to help me with flying or something? I can still meet you on the fourth floor after I wash my hair,” she suggested.
James laughed nervously, thinking of what McGonagall would do if she saw him walking with Lily Evans not in the direction of the hospital room. “We should probably go to the hospital wing first. Before you wash your hair.”
She gave him a look like he couldn’t be serious. “I’m not even hurt,” she protested. She didn’t understand she had missed the dementors and she hadn’t seen Poppy cry.
“Everyone thinks you're dead,” he explained.
“Okay,” she sighed. “Lead the way.”
Poppy screamed when they opened the hospital wing door and threw her arms around Lily’s neck, sobbing about how she thought she had died. Professor McGonagall put a hand to her heart, looking deeply relieved, and then gave James a suspicious look, though he had no idea what he was supposed to have done this time, but everyone else clapped and cheered.
“Snitch’s wings!” Poppy cursed under her breath as Lily stood up, her finished assignment in hand and followed the line to place it on Professor Cullpepper’s desk. She had thought it was due tomorrow!
Poppy had spent the whole night waving her wand at a shaved down pencil and chanting “levitospite” until her throat hurt. The pencil had not even flinched. They had a Charms exam today. It was mostly a formality as nearly everyone but Poppy had mastered the incantation. A few people had seen her practicing and given her pitying looks—it was humiliating. And now she hadn’t done her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework and had no excuse. It made it worse that she could have done it. The assignment had been to write three pages on “magical artifacts and their dark influences.” Poppy could have written that paper in her sleep, but she had forgotten and now she was going to lose marks on something she actually could have done.
The dark haired boy sitting in front of her turned back to face her. “Did you forget to do the paper?” Sirius mouthed in a barely audible whisper. Poppy still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. She had heard a lot about the Black family. They were an old wizarding family that allegedly prized themselves on having pure blood and hated Muggles, but Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor. Did that mean he was different?
Poppy nodded, feeling embarrassed. The boy reached into his bag and pulled out some folded sheets of parchment, then sat them on her desk with a satisfied smile. He sat back and watched her, folding his arms over the chair as Poppy smoothed the papers open and read:
The Goblin's Grudge: The Dark Tale of Gryffindor's Stolen Sword and its Resentful Ripple
Written by Poppy Abbington
She scanned through the pages he had written. The sword of Gryffindor had tainted human and goblin relations for centuries, he claimed, because the legendary sword had actually been stolen by Gryffindor after it was crafted by Ragnut the First. It was clever, controversial and unexpected. The topic had been “magical artifacts and their dark influences,” and when Professor Cullpepper had given the assignment Poppy had immediately thought of the Blood Moon Dagger. The dagger was legendary, it was said to give its wielder immense power at the cost of a blood sacrifice. It was unclear whether it existed or not but history was dotted with stories of people sacrificing innocents believing they had found the true Blood Moon Dagger and hoping to release its legendary powers. She had also considered the envenomed quill that infused words with a potent venom that manipulated the thoughts and actions of the reader.
There were countless other dark magical objects that Poppy could have written on but Gryffindor's sword had never crossed her mind. It felt so pure, a symbol of bravery and honor, but the assignment hadn't said that the magical artifact needed to be evil just its influence and Sirius made a good argument. He had sources referenced and it was written well enough that she trusted he had done the job properly, but what really shocked her was the style. It was familiar to her, because it was her mother’s, but Poppy knew she had never written it. She looked up at Sirius, shocked.
He grinned back at her. “I saw you in the common room. You seemed pretty focused and I thought you might have forgotten the essay. I was already doing James’ for him, so I figured I’d write yours as well.” He nodded his head at James, who was using levitospite to make a paper airplane chase Lily as she walked back to her seat. The charm wasn’t working very well; the spell looked pretty pitiful and was just barely hovering behind her. Lily rolled her eyes and they were both laughing at its little paper wings dragging feebly on the ground.
Sirius smiled back at her. “But don’t worry; yours is better. We wouldn’t want Cullpepper to get suspicious,” he muttered.
Poppy stared at him. He had read her mother’s articles. He was a Black. She knew of his parents, Orion and Walburga, but she had never met them. The Black family always avoided blood traitors and Violet Abbington had been one of the biggest blood traitors to ever live. She had married a Muggle. What had Sirius Black been doing reading her articles? Not only reading them but knowing them well enough that he could mimic them so easily. It was weird. Her whole life she had felt like her mother’s fame had isolated her from other people. Like a giant wall in front of her that hid everything Poppy was or could be and robbed her of her individuality, made strangers think they already knew her without putting any effort in, but Poppy had not felt that way at Hogwarts. Most of the students were too young to care about Violet Abbington. So for the first time in Poppy’s life she had been the one that mattered. She was able to make her own life, finally free of people’s preconceived expectations, and in the midst of all that it was weird that Sirius Black, the last person she would have expected to have known who her mother was, did. He knew her mother, had read her work, but it felt different somehow. Though the whole world knew Violet Abbington, the fact that he did felt personal. Like a secret between them. He was a Gryffindor, but the first one in a long line of Slytherins. How had he got her mothers articles? She pictured him reading them hidden in his closet or by candlelight late at night in his room. The way she often had, searching for answers from a woman who couldn’t help either of them because though she may have been clever, kind and brilliant she no longer existed and the only things left were her words preserved in the ink of outdated newspapers.
But she had helped Poppy today. The fake paper might be a little controversial and she wouldn’t have risked it with Slughorn or even McGonagall, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it was just the kind of thing that Professor Cullpepper would give an O. She could guess from the way that he had told Alfie off for making fun of the mermaids’ screeches that he was a beings and beast sympathizer. She suspected that anything that cast light on wizarding oppression of non-human species would at very least get an E in his class and Poppy was sure Professor Cullpepper knew who her mother was and would think the writing authentic. There was just one gaping hole in Sirius's brilliant scheme. It was written in his hand. His cursive was messy and fairly distinctive and Poppy was pretty sure Professor Cullpepper was going to notice that all three assignments had been written by the same student.
Poppy looked up at him. Still grateful that he had tried but knowing that she couldn’t turn it in. “He’ll notice the handwriting,” she whispered back
Sirius’s smile didn’t deflate as she had expected but instead he gave a furtive look to the front of the room to make sure Professor Cullpepper wasn’t watching. Then turned back to her. “Show me your notes!”
Poppy opened her journal and Sirius tapped it with his wand, then tapped the essay. “Graphitum mutatio,” he whispered and the letters curved so they looked so exactly like her writing that she almost believed the paper was authentic.
“Thank you!” she whispered.
“Anytime!” He grinned at her then turned around and grabbed his own paper and Poppy followed him to the front of the room.
She knew she should have felt guilty for cheating but she just didn’t. She needed to pass her classes to make it to the second year and the way things were going she felt her chances were slim. She imagined what it would feel like to watch her classmates move up as she stayed back to join a new batch of first years. She remembered the disappointed looks she got from teachers at the end of every class. All the hours practicing spells that had taken other students minutes to master.
Lily was annoyed with her and kept insisting it was Poppy's wand that was the problem and trying to persuade her to borrow hers or get a new one. Though Poppy agreed, she knew she couldn’t. Olivander had warned her that she would have trouble using a wand that had not chosen her and the last time she had used Lily's wand she had almost died. Poppy had thought she had. That she had killed her.
So she wasn’t going to borrow Lily's wand and she wasn’t going to take the elder wand, the only one Poppy was certain would actually choose her. But, by Merlin’s baggiest pair of silk pants, she was working her very hardest and still falling short. She couldn’t do it alone and wasn’t about to refuse freely offered help. So she set her paper right on top of Sirius's and smiled back at Professor Cullpepper when he nodded at her without feeling the slightest bit guilty.
James Potter had saved Lily Evans once again and the whole school knew it. This time, though, Lily didn’t mind. In fact she encouraged the story. Because he hadn’t really. She was pretty sure Regulus Black had. A suspicion that only grew stronger when she met Regulus’s eyes walking into the Great Hall for dinner. He quickly looked away but not before Lily saw a flash of relief on his face that made her think he had been watching the door specifically for her. Then she considered it almost confirmed when she was getting her stuff from her drawer in Potions class and found that her muddied Beginner Potions book was gone. Replaced with a copy that looked almost new except for the initials R.A.B. etched in black ink on the cover page. She was pretty sure now the gravy hadn’t been a random act of aggression. It had been deliberate: he had meant to get her upstairs; he had done it to save her. She wasn’t sure why or what it meant but she felt confident now that Regulus did not hate her And though a part of her felt tempted to dump his old potions book in the bin, to refuse the kindness of someone who thought Muggle-borns were scum the way she had refused Slytherin’s house, she didn’t.
Not because she needed it. She had learned very well how to manage in Potions without a book. Severus proved to be a very good teacher. His Potions skill was far above that of any other first year and possibly even student at Hogwarts that she knew of. Lily suspected that was partially because of the lonely hours he’d spent poring over his books while his parents fought. She knew his home life was not pleasant and his studies had been something of a refuge for him before even attending Hogwarts, though Potions was not the only subject in which Severus excelled. Lily realized this, though she only had Potions with him, when at the start of one class he whispered, “Muffliato,” and explained that it was a spell he had made himself to fill the nearby students' ears with a muffling noise so they could carry on a conversation in class without anyone else overhearing. He had said it simply like it was no big deal but Professor Cullpepper in their first ever Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson had said that writing your own spells was incredibly complicated and dangerous.
Still Lily was grateful for muffliato as it allowed them to carry out a conversation without any of the Slytherins getting suspicious. So Lily had her old friend back. Yes, Severus was a little odd with his constant muttering and too long sleeves but still Lily liked him. He reminded her of home and he was earnest. Passionate about the right way to do things and a very good teacher. Yes, under his instruction Lily was excelling at Potions. He taught her not to measure but to learn the desired texture, to master the principle so she would be able to know the amounts intuitively without measurements and scales.
So Lily did not need the book, but still she kept it. Though she never opened it. She just liked holding it. She didn’t know why it meant so much to her. It might have had something to do with the way Slytherins gave her a wide berth when they passed her in the hallways. How Narcissa Black's face went white with fear if Lily ever met her eyes in class. She hated it, hated that they hated her, didn’t trust her, and Regulus’s kindness made it all feel less personal. She felt like she had his approval, knowing that he had saved her and given her his old book, which made Lily feel like she was an exception. Despite what she’d told the Sorting Hat, Lily knew now she wanted to be.
Even now she kept it in the bag Poppy had given her, though she hadn’t had Potions today. She dropped it on the forest floor and it fell with a heavy clunk. Lily stretched her shoulders, relieved to be free of the heavy weight. She breathed in the fresh fragrance of pine needles and damp earth mingled with the familiar smell of autumn. Standing waiting for her was James Potter. He had a red and gold scarf wrapped around his neck and was still wearing his long robes though he normally set it by one of the trees and wore just just the thin collared shirt beneath to fly but today there was a slight chill in the air and a fresh smell that promised rain. A single ray of golden sunlight cast a beam on his face from a gap in the canopy of vibrantly colored leaves above. It seemed to match him so perfectly with his warm smile and windswept curls that indicated that he had not been patiently waiting for her but instead took the chance to have his own fun on Sirius’s broom. She pictured him zooming through the trees. He had likely just landed when he’d heard the creak of the trapdoor.
“You ready?” he asked with a grin, holding out the polished handle of Sirius’s Comet for her to take.
Lily looked at it warily. “Where’s the harness?” she asked. After her disastrous flying lesson where she had been unable to even lift off the ground James Potter had been true to his word and was privately teaching her to fly. He had shown her the passage that led to the magical village outside Hogwarts called Hogsmeade and four times a week they met in the surrounding forest to practice.
Lily had still been too nervous to lift off the ground so they had searched the shops for some kind of training harness that James had told her his dad had used to teach his cousin. When that had been unsuccessful James had actually gone door to door round the magical village trying to see if anyone had one they could borrow. Since the village was mainly inhabited by retired witches and wizards along with a few hags, elves, and even a pale woman with pointed teeth they were pretty sure was a vampire, they had been unsuccessful until finally a goblin had offered to craft them one for the marked up price of three Galleons. Even as a Muggle-born Lily knew that the price he was asking was ridiculously high. She could tell by his condescending tone and the slight up-twitch of his thin lip. James, who had no sense of how to barter, had delightedly pulled the three Galleons straight from his apparently endless bag of gold despite Lily's whispered protests and handed it straight to the goblin. When they returned the goblin gave them a woven, sturdy-looking rope harness. It attached to both ends of the broom so James could adjust the broom's position from the ground so she never got out of control. The harness had given Lily the confidence to lift off the ground and she actually had been doing quite well and barely needed his corrections anymore.
“Ah, you don’t need the harness,” James said in a casual, cheerful voice, but the nervousness in his eyes told her he wasn’t a complete idiot and was correctly expecting her to refuse. She gave him a look. “C’mon,” he said, holding the Comet up higher.
“Nope,” Lily said, stepping back.
James grinned. “You can’t use the harness forever,” he insisted, waving the broom at her, still determined. She stared at it through narrowed eyes. “Just try it,” he begged.
Lily pursed her lips, still feeling nervous. She didn’t want to do it. She had better control of the broom now but the memory of rocketing towards the sky was still fresh in her mind and if she did then he couldn’t come after her. They only had one broom. She knew that wouldn’t happen but still …
“Maybe tomorrow,” she said.
James shook his head, still smiling. “It will be worse the longer you put it off. Just try it. You're ready. You know you are.”
She knew he was right, but there was a twisting in her stomach. Like the feeling you get before you jump off a cliff.
James was looking hopeful he could tell he almost had her persuaded. “Do it and I’ll buy you anything you want from Honeydukes,” he promised.
Lily rolled her eyes but smiled. She wasn’t above being bribed.
“Fine.” She took the broom. James did a little victory dance. It wasn’t so bad. Lily lifted off the ground, same as she had before with the harness. Her broom felt a little unsteady but she knew better how to control it.
“Good!” James shouted from below. “Try going through the trees.” She did and found it was quite fun to loop between the branches. Before with the harness she had needed to stay in a straight line so it wouldn’t get tangled. Now she was free. She spent a good half hour just getting used to the feeling of looping through the forest. It was fun to learn to control it. Still she took it quite slow, staying at a pace that she knew she could control.
“Try giving it just a bit of acceleration,” James called. “Not too much, just lean forward a bit and see how it feels going a little faster.”
She did, leaning into the broom, and it was fun. She enjoyed the speed as she swooped around the branches still feeling like she was relatively in control. She leaned down a bit more to gain more speed which was a mistake. Lily barely made it round the tree only to not be able to pull out of her turn and smash into the ancient oak beside it. Her hands came up to guard her face and her palms smashed into the bark before her face did. She felt herself slide off her broom and heard James shout, “Arresto Momentum!” And then Lily was falling in slow motion. She hit the ground gently, her palms and face still stinging with the collision. She could feel the gnarled roots and moss covered stone beneath her. She just lay there on the ground with her hair in the grass. Breathing hard, recovering from the shock, and embracing the feeling of being safely on the ground. But mixed with the shock was a hint of pride. She had done it, she had flown and she had fallen and it really had not been that bad.
She heard the crunch of leaves as James ran towards her. “You okay?” he asked, hazel eyes wide and fearful. She grinned then held out her scraped, bloody palm for a hand up. He took it, looking relieved, and helped pull her to her feet.
“Ice cream or sugar quills?” she asked, picking the fallen Comet off the ground.
He grinned, reassured that she was okay. “How about both?” he laughed and together they started towards the old stone candy shop.
They made their way through the undergrowth to the cobblestone street that wound its way through the village.
“I’ll take the broom,” James said, Lily passed it to him without argument and rubbed her scratched hands together to brush the dirt off her scraped palms. “Blimey, are you bleeding!” James asked, looking shocked.
Lily laughed, balling her hands into fists. “Not much. It just stings a little, like I fell off my bike or something.”
“I’ll fix it,” James said, stopping and pulling his wand from the pocket of his robes.
“You’re sure?” Lily asked a little hesitantly.
“Positive,” James said and he looked confident enough that she held out her palms. “Episkey!” he said and Lily watched in stunned amazements as the broken skin healed over.
“Wow, thank you!” she said, examining her perfectly healed hands.
James beamed and lifted the broom onto his shoulders so his hands could rest on either end. He looked round at the colorful shops and many houses with timber frames and thatched roofs.
“You know I always wanted to ride a bike,” he said and Lily could tell he meant it. He sounded envious like it was a dream he’d had his entire life and it really annoyed him that he didn’t know how.
Lily laughed and she couldn’t help it. “You can’t ride a bike?”
James looked affronted. “How would I learn to ride a bike? Wizards don’t have them.”
“Really?” Lily asked. She hadn’t known that.
“No,” James said and shook his head. “But I was so jealous of all the Muggle kids with their bikes. I remember there was a boy in my neighborhood named Sammy Turner. He could do tricks and stuff, ride with no hands. It was so cool. Can you do that?” he asked.
“Ride with no hands?”
James nodded.
“Yes,” she laughed.
James shook his head, looking so impressed and jealous. It was so funny somehow. That this boy who could do all these amazing things on a broomstick wanted so badly to be able to ride a bike.
“It’s really not that hard,” Lily confessed. “I can teach you.”
James looked way too excited. “Really?”
“Yes,” Lily laughed. “I don’t think I can get my bike to Hogwarts but come to my house during the summer and I’ll teach you to ride a bike,” she promised. “My bike is pink, though. Hopefully that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all.” He grinned like she had just fulfilled his wildest dreams and then swung the broom off his shoulders and opened the door to Honeydukes. The shop was surprisingly full and not of the normal crowd of magical creatures, seniors, or families on vacation. No, the shop was full of middle aged men in pressed, tailored robes. Lily looked at James, confused.
“Ministry conference,” he said wisely. “Probably at the Hogsmeade Haven.”
Lily nodded. She felt intimidated by the crowd as they stood in line to order, but they had no trouble finding a table as the Ministry wizards all hurried out of the shops with their purchases, likely to hurry back to some meeting.
Lily took a spoonful of her raspberry ice cream. The wooden sign that hung above the ice cream stand said “Never Melting” and it was true. It didn’t melt, even in her mouth it stayed cool and thick as it went down her throat. Still she thought Florean’s was better, though she might have been biased, since he was her friend.
Still, Honeydukes had its own charm. Old-fashioned and cozy; the shelves lined with all kinds of magical sweets. Lily examined the treats on the shelf in front of them: there were Leviosa Bubbles, a gum that made you levitate while you chewed it; Shifting Strands Toffee that changed the color of your hair—Poppy was obsessed with those—and even Shrink-a-Choc chocolate, which made you shrink for an hour.
Lily had thought at first that she and James would get in trouble; someone in the town would surely notice they were out of school and report them. It turned out that wasn’t a problem. There were tons of underage wizard kids running around Hogsmeade and Lily and James fit right in among them. A group of three younger boys were laughing over their ice-cream in the booth beside them.
“Let’s go check it out. Come on!” a short, mischievous looking boy with smooth brown hair urged his friend. The boy looked maybe eight or nine.
“No, Barty!” said his taller friend who looked a bit older.
Barty took a scoop of his ice cream. “Aw, C’mon! Don’t be scared Dorian.” He grinned. “Louis wants to go—don’t you Louis?” he said around another mouthful to the freckled blonde boy who still looked undecided. Louis took a large bite of his own ice cream to avoid answering.
“You shouldn't mess with a monster. That’s just asking for trouble,” the boy Dorian insisted.
James' head snapped up from his chocolate sunday. “Monster?” he asked.
The boys nodded.
“Didn’t you hear it?” Dorian asked. James shook his head.
“Last night,” Barty said, “as soon as it got dark, shrieks started coming from a shack off the road. They definitely weren’t human, maybe a monster or some type of ghost!” His tablemates squirmed in their seats, but Barty looked all too eager.
“Show me!” James said, his eyes reflecting the same excitement as the younger boy.