To Ashes

The rest of the weekend took on the air of a grim forward march, heads down and teeth clenched, one foot in front of the other. They smiled too widely and laughed a bit too loudly, all of them pretending that they weren’t terrified to go back to school.

James was a fixer. He liked to fix things, people, problems. Sirius always ribbed him for it, called him a mother hen, but he felt responsible seeing people upset or tense. It made the few days squirreled away at his family’s home near unbearable, anxiety bubbling in his chest. He could distract, and redirect, but he couldn’t make it better. 

Marlene mentioned to him in an overly casual tone their second morning there that Lily and Mary had taken sleeping draughts, and the look she slid him told James all he needed to know. 

They dragged themselves through each minute, hour, day, until it was Monday morning and they were due to return to school that evening. Their conversation at breakfast was strained, the looming hour of departure sweeping towards them like a storm cloud. 

By tacit agreement, they’d all scattered to separate corners of the house. Sirius and Remus had disappeared somewhere, the girls had wanted to shower, and Pete was napping. 

James had the vague inclination to start packing his things to bring back to school. James’s method of ‘packing’ primarily involved pulling clothes from their various hiding places and throwing them in the direction of his rucksack, but it helped to staunch the fear creeping its tendrils through his body. 

He was in the middle of fishing his jeans out from behind his wardrobe, tongue between his teeth and shoulders shoved up between the wood and the wall, when he heard the light knock at the door. He started at the noise, thumping his head as he straightened too quickly. Cursing under his breath, he staggered away from the wardrobe.

“Hullo.” Lily’s head was sticking around the cracked door, red sheath of hair falling in a curtain around her face. Stray tendrils still damp from the shower were clinging to her temples. It was still jarring to see her in his home, two corners of his life that had never previously touched. James waved her in absently, ignoring the dull ache of the growing knot on his head.

 Lily made her way to the middle of his bed and sat with her legs tucked up under her, surrounded by little piles of bits and bobs. The fire crackling in the hearth did little to push away the damp chill, and in his periphery he saw her draw her jumper more tightly around her shoulders, a slight shiver running up her spine. 

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes as James tried to organize his things, and the only noise was the sound of the rain battering the window panes. He snuck glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

There was a pinched, weary look to Lily’s face he didn’t like. Exhaustion had stamped purpled bruises underneath her eyes, so dark it was like she’d taken paint and smudged them there. It was another thing James wanted to fix. He imagined taking her face in his hands and wiping away the fatigue with his thumbs. 

“I’ve been having dreams.” Lily started suddenly. He looked up cautiously, weighing the faraway look in her eyes.

“Nightmares?”

Her head swiveled to look at him, but he had the creeping feeling that she was seeing something else. 

“Yeah.”

“Marlene told me you and Mary have been needing a sleeping draught.” James tried to keep his tone even, coaxing her back to him.

“It helps at first,” she murmured, eyes oddly out of focus, “but when the dosage wears off the dreams come back." James stayed quiet, waiting for the words he could feel simmering underneath the silence. He climbed gingerly onto the bed next to her, ankles crossed and hands folded carefully to keep him from reaching out. 

“You know I think Divination is a waste of time,” she started, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, “but I think the dreams are telling me it’s only the beginning. Even here, in your family’s home, I can feel something coming.”

“You are safe here, Lily.” He would go to any lengths to make sure she felt so. “You must know that.” She seemed to come back to herself then, blinking away whatever distant place she’d been seeing. They both left the question of her safety at Hogwarts unasked.

“I know.” Lily whispered. She slumped back against the pillows. A lone, treasonous tear slipped down her cheek, and James could see on her face how much she resented that show of weakness. He tried to stay very still as she cracked open like a chrysalis, layer after layer peeling open to let out the fear underneath.

“Why do they hate us so much?” It was her bewilderment that wounded him, a knife-sharp pain blooming in his heart. 

“I don’t know.” James said slowly, rolling the words around his mouth as he searched for an answer. His first impulse was to say that they were simply insane, but it was too inadequate, too dismissive of the ugliness of their hatred. “I suppose it makes them feel important, superior.”

“ Important .” Lily spat. “Fuck their stupid pride.” She blinked back the tears, swallowing her sorrow with a bitter frown. It was easier when she was angry, all teeth and hard edges, he felt less helpless. 

“Most pureblood families are so obscenely inbred that their status is all they have left,” he managed a grin, “a rickety bunch of ugly gits with enough birth defects to rival the Hapsburgs.”

He was rewarded with a full throated laugh, and James felt the warmth of it spread over him, soothing balm to a bruise. 

“I didn’t know wizards knew about the Hapsburgs.” 

“‘Course we know about the Hapsburgs.” James said indignantly.

Lily’s leg shifted slightly and her ankle brushed his, just the tiniest hint of skin against skin, and James was hit with a wave of wanting so strong he felt the need to fist his hands in the bedsheets to resist reaching out to her. There was the faintest bit of warmth, like a spark of electricity jumping from her to him, tethering one to the other. It was enough to flatten him. Before he could even think Lily shifted again, drawing away unconsciously. 

She was saying something, talking on and on while James sat there feeling like the air had been sucked from the room. A star had flared to life in the middle of his bed and she hadn’t noticed. In that one moment James’s mind was spinning out of its orbit, thinking of how nothing would ever sate his appetite, no morsel of her would fill him up. That dazed feeling lingered until James finally stepped from the green Floo flames into Dumbledore's office, trailing ash onto the fine rug beneath his feet.

Their return to school was anticlimactic. They were welcomed with solemn faces and no new leads to report.  The Aurors took temporary control over prefect rounds and students were urged to travel in groups.

They were left waiting with their hearts in their throats.