To Ashes

The portrait hole closed behind the Aurors, the click of the frame sliding into place seeming to bounce through the room. The students’ silence as Professor McGonagall faced the common room was tense, likely to snap at any moment. 

Looking at her as he stood there, James couldn’t recall a single previous moment where he thought McGonagall looked her age. She had always towered over him, even after he surpassed her in height, a force of nature seemingly untouchable to things as silly and mortal as aging. The thought of her bowing to the same passage of time as the rest of them was inconceivable. But as she stood there in the common room he could see that the stray hairs escaping their stern pinnings were graying, and how worry had carved lines here and there around her face. She looked so ordinary, and somehow that scared James just as much as the psychopath loose in the castle.

“The Aurors are conducting their investigation,” she began, hands clasped tightly together as if she were trying to stop them trembling, “but as there are no witnesses, and the assailant struck from behind, there is little to go on.”

“No portraits saw anything strange?” Dorcas asked hesitantly.

“The Aurors are still interviewing the paintings, as they just spoke with all of you, but as of now none of them have reported anything suspicious.”

He felt Sirius shift next to him, trying to keep his frustration reined in. James nudged him with his elbow, McGonagall would not take kindly to outbursts.

“Classes have been canceled tomorrow, as well as Monday. If anyone wishes to leave for the long weekend, have your parents or guardians write a letter, and we’ll arrange for Floo transport.” She took a shaky breath, peering around the small crowd of her students with knitted brows. “There are many muggleborn students in this school, all gifted witches and wizards. I want to emphasize that you belong at Hogwarts, despite those who wish you to believe otherwise. This is your home, and you are very wanted here.” 

With a sharp nod, the professor took her leave, pausing to squeeze the shoulder of a tearful first year as she left. The faint illusion of safety that she’d brought left with her, and James felt the fear clamp down once again around his heart, like someone had stuck their cold fist in his chest and squeezed.

The crowd of students dissolved, some straying to the dormitories, the others wandering aimlessly through the room. All looked half-dazed, as if they couldn’t be sure whether they were dreaming or awake.

A strangled groan emanated from somewhere to James’s right. He turned to see Mary, head clutched in her hands, drop to her knees. Lily was by her side in a second. James couldn’t hear what she was saying but her voice was soft, soothing, only the faintest tremble tugging at it. Marlene and Remus hovered alongside them, their faces stricken.

James sank down slowly in front of Mary as she pulled her hands away from her face, letting him look at her wild-eyed terror. None of her previous rage was there, no resolve or fire. Just fear, fear and despair. 

“I can’t go home,” her voice shook, “I can’t tell my parents what’s happening. They’ll pull me out forever.”

“We could go to my parents for the weekend.” The idea left his mouth as soon as it sprung into his head. No matter, he knew they’d agree.

She shook her head. “No, no. S’okay.”

“Come on,” he urged, “there’s more than enough room for all of us. We can get out of the Aurors’ way.” He could see her wavering. 

“I don’t want to run away.”

“It’s not running away, Mar.” Lily said softly. 

“But would you feel safer, if we left for a few days?” James was looking at Mary but the question was directed to the both of them, and he caught Lily’s short nod in his periphery. Mary took a moment, but bobbed her head slowly as well.

“Okay, then I’ll write to my parents. We’ll be off soon, so go pack a bag.”

His parents' reply came quickly. Yes, of course. Bring them all. So the boys scurried around their room, tossing clothing across the room and stuffing whatever they grabbed in their bags. It wasn’t their normal chaos. Their movement was hurried, and the panic filling the room was silent but rising high enough to lap at their necks. 

Sirius stuck his head up from where he was crouched by his trunk. “Anyone seen my blue jumper?” Peter threw it in his direction without a word. Sirius caught it with ease. 

“Cheers, mate. How about my jeans?”

James yanked a pair of blue jeans by a leg out of his own pile and tossed them over. Sirius shook them out and held them up, examining them top to bottom.

“No, these are yours.” He threw them back across the room. “Mine are darker, the ones that make my arse look -” Another pair of jeans appeared out of nowhere, smacking him full across the face.

A muffled “Thanks, Moony” came from the denim.

Sirius dragged his rucksack down the stairs to find Mary sitting by herself on the sofa, sunken as far as possible into the cushions with her legs tucked up underneath her. It was quiet, students scurried about in groups of twos and threes and spoke in hushed whispers, trying their best not to look terrified. He skirted around a group of fourth years huddled in a pack, rucksack swung over his shoulder. 

Mary was sneaking glances at the portraithole, every muscle in her body strummed taut, like she was expecting the assailant to burst in at any second. She flinched slightly as Sirius sat next to her, eyes ready to pop out of her skull. He froze, palms out in what he tried to make a soothing gesture. She relaxed, just slightly, offering him a rueful grin.

“Some Gryffindor I am.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m supposed to be brave.”

“You are brave.”

She arched a brow at him, and even though he could still feel the fear rolling off her in waves, for a moment she looked like herself.

“I’m running away, Sirius. That’s not brave.”

“No one thinks you’re a coward, Mary. Not you, not Lily, not any of the muggleborns who are very rightly scared.”

“Hmph.”

“Well what are you supposed to do? March off to battle whatever psychopath is loose in the castle? That’s not being brave, that’s being a colossal fucking idiot. If Godric Gryffindor himself were sitting here with us right now he would say the same.”

Mary snorted. “You’re so annoying.”

“You mean when I’m right?”

“I wouldn’t know, it’s never happened.”

“ Oi! ”

They marched down the halls toward the office in solemn silence, and as they turned a corner the first thing they saw was a group of Slytherins making their way towards them. Even though she tried not to, Lily did as she always did, and looked for Severus. 

He was there, hiding behind Mulciber and another boy she didn’t know, seemingly doing everything in his power to avoid eye contact with her. Coward. So Lily steeled herself and raised her chin, determined to ignore him as well. She saw her friends stiffen, one by one, distrust rippling through them. 

They drew closer and closer together, tension building between them with every step. Anger clashed with sorrow in her chest as she fought to keep her eyes off of him. At the last moment, right as they were about to pass each other, she broke.

Lily flung a hand out and grabbed him by the wrist. Mulciber’s wand was drawn in an instant, just half a second quicker than James’s. That would rankle him. In her periphery, Lily caught Peter and Remus both throwing an arm around Sirius to hold him down. Lily ignored them, they all knew they couldn’t duel in a castle crawling with Aurors. Snape didn’t react, just glanced down at the hand wrapped around him with bored indifference. 

“If you ever gave a fuck about me, Sev, you’ll tell me who it is.” Lily heard James clear his throat next to her, and she could feel how desperate he was to be gone. But she needed to ask.

He arched a dark brow. “What makes you think I know?” 

She stared into his eyes, silently pleading. When they were children, even if Severus wasn’t smiling, his eyes had always betrayed him. Happiness, humor, excitement. There had been a spark of warmth she’d always been able to pick out, forever wondering how other students couldn’t see it. She stared at him, hoping that guilt, or concern, or anything would be visible. There was nothing, just blackness. It was like staring at a stranger.

His face was arranged into one of polite disinterest, but she saw the exact moment he knew she didn’t find what she wanted. A flicker of something across his face, too quick and faint for anyone else to see, something shaped like remorse. Blank again. 

Lily felt something in her shrivel, something that used to be warm and glowing and soft, drying up like a leaf and falling away. Snuffed out in an instant. No matter, she’d no use for loving him anymore. She’d held onto that love in secret, for so many years, thinking about their childhood in her quiet moments and remembering the way he used to be. But looking at him right then, just down the hall from where blood was still splashed on the doors of the Great Hall, Lily decided she couldn’t stand him. She might've even hated him.

“Okay, Sev.” She said softly. “Have it your way.” Lily pulled away, feeling James’s hand find its way to the small of her back. She didn’t have to look at him to know the tense set of his mouth. He wanted to be far away from where they were standing. So Lily took one last look at the Slytherins before brushing past them towards the office entrance.

Lily swallowed, hard, but the lump in her throat refused to budge. 

“Alright?” James murmured, low enough that the others wouldn’t hear.

“S’okay,” she said, voice raspy with the unshed tears that she was desperately blinking back, “it’s not a loss.”

He gave her a curious look, but said no more.