#just the thought of Sirius and Petunia sitting outside of a shop in Diagon Alley talking smack

[thedevilsfamiliar]

I’m listening to this song and thinking about a universe where Petunia didn’t mistreat Harry. Where she divorced her husband and took Dudley and Harry with her. Where on Harry’s 11th birthday, she gets to walk through Diagon Alley with her nephew, her second son, and gets to witness the world that Lily lived in.

The wonder, the awe, her boys talking animatedly in front of her, looking just as amazed as she.

She has no clue what awaits her second son, has no clue that in a few years he will be forced to give up his life.

Can you picture her? Washing her dishes, Dudley doing his homework at the kitchen table, looking out the window and wondering if her kid is okay? If he’s hungry?

Harry Potter walks into the forest at 17 years old, facing the man who killed his biological mother, who threatened to go after the mother he has at home waiting for him.

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Everyone Lives

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero, @magic713m, @ccboomer, @aubsenroute, @somebodyswatson

Chapter Twelve The Wandless Witch

Lily gingerly turned the page of the charred book in her lap. Regulus had salvaged the book from the library, and had suggested that it might be intriguing to her. Judging by the tight, old-fashioned script, the book must have been as old as Hogwarts. Deciphering it in the early morning light was a challenge, but the content was well worth the effort.

The title, no longer legible on the blackened cover but neatly scripted above the table of contents, read, The Sigilic and Somatic Secrets of Sorcery. Lily had never heard the word somatic before, but after a few days decoding the book, she understood that it meant something to do with hand movements for spell casting. It had been strangely thoughtful of Regulus to give the book to her, damaged and ancient as it was.

Ever since the duel at the Diggorys’ had cost her her wand, she had been working hard to use magic without one. Her memory of the Chamber of Secrets was ever-present these days. She had failed to protect Harry then, had been helpless against the diary and the basilisk without her wand. She would never let herself be that helpless again.

Lily set the book down on the tea table and focused on the pocket watch resting beside it. Locomotion Charms had always come easily to her, so it was what she had decided to start with. She bit down on her lip and focused, stretching out her hand and her mind to the watch, willing with all her might for the watch to fly into her hand.

But focus was so hard to come by, especially here in the parlour. Her mind was stretched across too many fears and too many worries. There was Harry and James, Remus and Sirius, Tonks and Picksie, Regulus and Petunia, and the Weasleys and the Prewetts and the Longbottoms and, and, and…

With a long, tired sigh, Lily picked up the pocketwatch.

The face of James’ watch was almost entirely red, with only the tiniest golden crescent on its edge, representing the last vestiges of the waning moon. The golden numerals illuminated against the bloodred backdrop showed that it was hardly past noon, and James had told her she was not allowed to panic until three.

She hated waiting. She had hated it in the first war, both waiting to be grown up enough to fight and then having to hide away from it all. Now here she was, waiting again, for James to come home and for Harry to confide in her.

At least Harry had not left Grimmauld Place yet. There was some small comfort in that.

Sirius had been by a few times, but he spent most of his time with the Tonks. In the last month, the Order had settled into something fairly stable, at least when compared to any point since Dumbledore’s death. Moody and the Diggorys were tucked away with Arabella Figg, who had a lot more room in her home since the Ministry had seized her Kneazles and revoked her breeding permit. Lily, James, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Regulus were more or less stuck in Grimmauld Place, though James and Regulus slipped out for information, using their Animagus forms when they could. Harry had offered James the Cloak, but James had refused. He had said that Apparating onto the top step was challenging enough and he didn’t want to worry about keeping the Cloak over him each time he did it.

Lily had left exactly twice, both times to check on her sister. Hestia Jones was employed as Vernon’s new secretary, so that he could still go to work and have someone watching him. Picksie and Emmeline stayed at the safehouse with Petunia and Dudley, and discussions about how to get Dudley back to school safely were growing more tense by the day.

“I thought you’d have this wrapped in a week,” Petunia had sniffed last time she was there.

“James and I spent nearly two years on the run last time.” Lily tried so hard to be patient, but she had lost patience for her sister many years ago. “It’s not like I can just wave a wand and make it all go away.”

“I still don’t understand why you can’t just do magic.”

“That’s not how magic works —”

“I mean why you can’t do magic at all. I see that — what did you say she is? An elf? — She does magic all the time. She certainly doesn’t use a wand. Must be nice to wave your hand and have the dishes clean and the beds made.”

“Elf-magic is different,” Lily had protested, but with far less energy than her earlier arguments.

Lily had bought that wand at eleven years old. Petunia had come along for that trip to Diagon Alley — her first and last trip. The Evans family had walked into Ollivander’s shop, eyes wide at the stacks of boxes lining the walls from floor to ceiling.

“I suppose we just pick one out?” her father had asked and reached for one of the boxes.

“Don’t, dear, you’ll knock them all over,” her mother had warned.

A cough had startled them, and when they had turned around, a wizened old man had limped out from the back of the shop.

“Welcome, welcome!” he had said, and surveyed each of them. “Now, which of you lovely ladies will be chosen by a wand today?”

Lily dabbed at the corner of her eye as tears welled up alongside the memory and reached for the old, damaged book. She remembered how dismissive they had all been with Remus when he had lost his wand a few years ago, and she regretted that attitude now.

Of course, were Ollivander’s shop still an option, she would have replaced her wand without hesitation. It hurt to lose the wand she had carried since childhood, but it was more painful to be utterly useless in a war that her husband and son continued to fight in. Still, she could have had more patience with Remus. It seemed that Lily was always having to learn patience, from the time she had fallen down the stairs before she could quite walk, just to keep up with Petunia, to nearly forty years later, sitting in this ancient house, waiting for James to come home.

The light in the parlour continued to shift east as Lily pored over the ancient text, read theories on how blood might channel magic as easily as a wand. It was full of pureblood drivel, which she supposed should not surprise her from a text in the Black family library, but if she could read past that, she might find what she needed to hone her wandless casting.

Despite her intense focus, the sound of a chain rattling in the doorway broke Lily’s concentration. She abandoned the book and watch and hurried down the stairs. She reached the entryway just in time to hear James murmur, “I didn’t kill you,” and the ghostly figure of Dumbledore dissolved into nothingness.

She threw her arms around him and kissed him.

“Morning, Lils,” he murmured into her cheek and kissed her back. His unshaven face was scratchy, but she didn’t complain. She was just glad to have him.

“You made it past the crowd outside.”

He grunted. “There’s about six or seven out there. Surprised they didn’t bring You-Know-Who himself. I mean, what do they expect? We’re just going to take Harry down to King’s Cross like everything’s normal? Like they aren’t out for our blood?”

“Maybe they think we don’t read the paper.”

“I wish we didn’t have to.”

Lily looked down at the rolled up paper in his hands. These days, the Daily Prophet told them at least as much as they learned from the Order, even if they had to read between the lines to understand it.

“I’m afraid to ask how things can get worse than suggesting that Harry is a murderer and rounding up Muggle-borns for questioning.”

“I don’t know if it’s worse, but…”

James waited until they were settled in the parlour to show her the front page. Lily had hardly sat down when she shot to her feet.

“Snape?” she spluttered. “How? Where’s McGonagall —”

“It certainly puts the mandatory Hogwarts attendance policy in a new light,” James said. “And the Carrows have been named as professors for Muggle Studies and Defense.”

Lily paced the parlour, unsure what to do with the rage burning in her. A Death Eater, in charge of Muggle Studies? What were the students going to learn? And what would happen to the Muggle-born students? She wondered if they would simply be separated from the others, or sent off to Azkaban.

Lightning danced between Lily’s fingertips and she itched for something to do with her hands, something to hold onto. She itched for her wand.

James leaned back into the sofa and watched her pace. His steady gaze only added to her anger.

“How can you be so calm about this?” she spluttered.

“I’m not calm,” he said evenly, “I’m absolutely furious. I keep picturing Snape sitting in the Headmaster’s office, with Dumbledore’s portrait behind him.” James paused, and she watched his fingers tap against the arm of the sofa before following the familiar path through his hair. “There’s nothing we can do, Lily. We can’t take over Hogwarts anymore than we can take over the Ministry.”

“Why not?” she snapped, fully aware of how foolish a question it was. “Why can’t we just take the Ministry back? I’ll depose Thicknesse the way I did Lockhart and Umbridge.”

She wasn’t exactly joking, but James smiled.

“Sirius asked me the same thing.”

Lily paused, her anger momentarily tempered by concern for their friends. James took advantage of her hesitation and gestured for her to sit down beside him.

She went, both willingly and reluctantly. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. She could hear his heartbeat, pounding as quickly as hers.

“How is Sirius?” she asked, though saying anything that did not address her anger felt reaching down her throat to pull rocks from her stomach.

James ran a hand through his hair again and glanced out the parlour window. “Alive.” His adam’s apple bobbed and she imagined he was reining in his anger as much as she was trying to rein in hers.

“Has he done something to upset you?”

“No, not Sirius.” He bit down on his thumb. “I think you and I should visit Remus this week.”

Lily frowned. “We’ve talked about this. It isn’t safe. The Ministry is watching them, hoping Ted will come home. If they catch sight of me or Harry —”

“Remus isn’t with Tonks and Andromeda.”

“Where is he?”

“Sirius thinks he’s back with Frank and Alice, which would make sense. They have the largest space, probably are under the least suspicion, and there’s no reason for the Muggle-born Registration Commission to stop by.”

“Certainly an easier place for us to drop by,” Lily said. “But if Remus didn’t feel safe with Andromeda and Tonks, why not come here? Why not stay with us?”

James hesitated, and the way he would not look at Lily made her nervous.

“Tonks is pregnant.”

As it so often was, Lily’s first response was anger. It flared in her chest, hot and heavy. She struggled to douse it, struggled to remind herself how just an hour ago she had tasked herself with being more patient, especially with Remus. She decided that, for the moment, the best thing to do was to focus on Tonks.

“How far along?”

“In Sirius’ unprofessional, self-taught opinion? About ten weeks.”

She evaluated her anger and attempted to at least keep it out of her voice, even if she couldn’t banish it entirely. “How long has Remus known?

“He found out after the wedding. I think that the day Ted left was the day Tonks told everyone, more or less. But I’m getting all of this second hand through Sirius, and you know how dramatic he can be.”

“And we’re only just finding this out because…?”

James shrugged. “Because Sirius didn’t want us to worry? Because he hoped Remus would come to us? I didn’t ask.”

Lily was unable to hold her anger in any longer. “What is Remus thinking? Surely he remembers what it was like for us with Harry! How could he think that Tonks —”

“I don’t think he does remember,” James said, so softly that she almost missed it. “He wasn’t really there for most of it. It was Sirius and Peter who saw us most. We saw him for the New Year and… that was it.”

“So you’re defending him?”

James looked at her, and she could read quite plainly that he didn’t appreciate the jab. And in his defence, it wasn’t a fair one. Of course he understood her anger. He always did.

“He’s scared,” he said, “and I want him to know he isn’t alone. That we’ve been through this before. I think we can help.”

Lily bit down on her lip and looked down at her hands. She tried, desperately, to set aside her anger. She had never understood how James could appear so calm, even in his anger. He said it came from his mother’s etiquette lessons and from hours spent with old ladies at garden parties. Sirius had once said it was because James’ temper was a glacier, cold and smooth on its surface, but hard and unforgiving underneath.

Lily tightened her fingers in his and squeezed, as if she might take some of his coldness to abate her own fires. She needed a bit of his patience.

Last summer, she had lost her temper on Remus, and had accused him of avoiding Tonks because he was a werewolf. She had claimed to understand his fears because she was Muggle-born. And it was true that there were times she and Remus understood one another, times they both knew what it was to be an outcast. But there were also times that she had no idea what he was going through. She might brew a potion for him monthly, and she might help with his burden, but she could never bear it for him, and would never truly know what he went through.

“I know you care about him, James,” she said, “so please trust that I say this with love, not anger, but I think Remus is alone in this.”

He pulled his hand away and got to his feet. It was perhaps a harsher rejection than shouting might have been. “How can you say that? We know what it’s like —”

“We don’t, James. We’ll never know what it’s like to be Remus. We will never live with fear the way he does. I don’t know that we can help him with this.”

James shook his head. “Remus is family, Lily. He doesn’t get to do this alone.”

“When Remus is ready to talk to us, he will.”

“He’s too stubborn for that.” He ran his hands through his hair and let out a slow, deep breath. “Do you remember why we only saw Remus a few times during the first war?”

“He was doing missions for Dumbledore. We were on the run. He and Sirius weren’t speaking. It was an unfortunate constellation, but there was nothing we could do about it.”

“But this time we could do something about it.”

Lily picked at the hem of her skirt, rearranging it and flattening it unnecessarily. But it was easier to look at her skirt than to look at James. “Do you remember what I said to you last time, when you asked why we couldn’t spend more time with Remus?”

James was quiet. She wondered if it was stubborn anger or reluctant acceptance. She risked a glance at him, but his hard face didn’t give her any clues.

The door creaked, startling Lily. She searched her pocket instinctively for her wand before remembering she no longer carried one.

Though James, too, reached for his wand, neither of them needed it. It was only Harry who pushed the door open.

His dark hair was tousled and his eyes tired, but he smiled at them. “Dad, I thought you were out for the Order today.”

“Just for the morning,” James said. “You have me for the rest of the day.”

“Oh — that’s perfect then.” Harry glanced between them. “Er — is everything alright?”

There was only the briefest hesitation. “Of course,” James smiled, “well, except for what’s in The Prophet but that’s never good news.”

Harry eyed the paper on the tea table. “Is that Snape on the front page? I expect he hasn’t been arrested, or the two of you wouldn’t look so murderous.”

James looked to Lily, as if he were asking her permission to share their conversation, or perhaps he was asking her to do it for him.

“Why don’t we all take lunch together,” Lily suggested. “Bad news goes down better with food.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, eyes still on the paper. “Ron, Hermione, and I have something to share with you, too.”

Lily’s eyebrows shot up and her heart leapt, too. She was afraid to hope, but hope came anyway.

“Food sounds excellent,” James said. “I’ve been out since before the sun and would love a bite to eat.”

“I’ll find Regulus,” said Lily. “I’m sure he’ll want to hear our news, too.”

The current residents of Grimmauld Place reconvened in the kitchen beneath the house. It was cooler down here, which made it the most popular room in the house — or it had been, before Hermione’s library had taken over the table.

She had stacked up several of her rune dictionaries to make space for food. Rolls of parchment were piled on one side, along with a quill and ink. Lily cast a cursory glance over the notes, but she didn’t glean anything unusual in them, nor any clues about what Harry wanted to share with her and James.

While James helped Kreacher in the kitchen, Lily gave everyone the good news of Tonks’ pregnancy and the bad news of Snape’s promotion.

As Ron and Harry protested, Hermione snatched the paper from Lily. Her lips trembled as she read.

“They won’t stand for this,” Ron said. “McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout — they were all there with us. There’s no way they’ll accept Snape as —”

Hermione shot to her feet. “I’ll be right back.” And she disappeared upstairs. Ron watched her go with raised eyebrows.

Harry pulled the article towards him. “The Carrows?” Their name dripped from his mouth like poison.

“Who’re they?” Ron asked.

“They were there when Snape killed Dumbledore,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “They’re teaching Defense and Muggle Studies? How could anyone let this happen?”

“No one let it happen, Harry.” Lily hoped her words were comforting.

“No,” Regulus said, “someone certainly did. Every time someone let a comment about Muggle-borns go unchecked, even the harmless ones, they let this happen. Every time someone was allowed to separate and divide, to ignore truth, they let this happen.”

His words hung in the air as thickly as the smell of cooking sausage, and Lily didn’t quite know what to say. All of them, even her, must have let a comment slide once or twice. Ignored for pride, or to keep peace. Regulus, with his background, was likely the worst offender of them all.

Hermione broke the uncomfortable silence by running in, out of breath, and lugging a portrait half her size.

Regulus got to his feet. “What are you doing?”

Hermione pulled her beaded bag off the table and put it on the floor. With some difficulty, she placed the corner of the empty painting inside the bag and began to push. “I had only just remembered,” she said. And though it took some doing, the painting disappeared into her bag.

“Phineas Nigellus,” she explained. “He was a Headmaster at Hogwarts, and Snape could use him to spy on us. But let him try it now and all he’ll get is the inside of my handbag.” She sat back down at the table with a rather smug smile on her face.

Regulus stared at her with an open mouth. Finally, he said, “Surely a curtain would have sufficed.”

“He’d still be able to hear us.”

“But — you can’t just take the portrait —”

“I’ll return it when Snape’s no longer Headmaster.”

Regulus glanced around the table, and perhaps sensed he had no support in this fight. He sank back into his seat and looked down at his lap. Lily thought he looked rather like a sulking toddler.

“What did you want to tell us, Harry?” James asked, as he and Kreacher set out plates.

Lily was glad that he asked. She had been restraining her curiosity, afraid her eagerness might make Harry change his mind.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look.

“I still think it’s a bad idea,” Hermione said. “He’ll be expecting us to go there!”

“That’s why we’re inviting them,” said Ron.

“Inviting us where?” Lily asked.

“We think —” Harry started, and Hermione coughed. Harry rolled his eyes. “I think it would be a good idea to visit Godric’s Hollow.”

Lily frowned. “Whatever for?”

“Dumbledore grew up there. And it’s the place I first defeated — well, Peter did, I mean, but he thinks it was me — and I think there might be something important there.”

James raised an eyebrow. “You think You-Know-Who left something in Godric’s Hollow.”

“Maybe. Or Dumbledore did.”

Lily pursed her lips. “But you won’t tell us what you’re looking for.”

“I don’t even want to tell you that we’re going,” Harry said, “but Hermione thinks it would be better if we had the Order with us.”

“I think it would be best not to go at all,” Hermione corrected. “I think You-Know-Who is waiting for us to show up there and it’s dangerous, but I’ve been outvoted.”

“You’ve agreed to a compromise,” Ron said. “The compromise is we bring backup.”

Lily looked over the three of them in search of any clues about the quest they had been handed. It hurt that it had not been Harry’s idea to involve her and James, but she was grateful for the chance to protect him.

“When did you want to go?” James asked.

“Tomorrow,” said Harry. “The sooner we go, the less time the Death Eaters have to prepare, if it is somewhere that they expect us to explore.”

James stared down at his breakfast, and Lily knew that he was thinking of Remus. She reached over and squeezed his hand.

Years ago, when Harry was only days old, James had asked why they couldn’t make the brief outing to see Remus.

“I’m worried about him,” James had whispered, afraid to wake the baby in his arms.

“Remus is an adult,” Lily had whispered back. “He can take care of himself. Harry’s the one who needs us. Harry comes first.”

Now, Harry was an adult, but he still needed them. And as long as Harry needed them, for however much longer that might be, Harry would come first.

“Of course we’ll go with you, Harry,” said James. “I wish you’d tell us a bit more about what we’re expecting to find.”

“I wish we knew a bit more about what we’re supposed to find,” Ron snorted.

“I still think this plan is foolish and unnecessary,” Regulus said. “But I have given you my opinion on where you should be looking, and I will not repeat it.”

“But you’ll come with us,” Harry said.

Regulus looked down at the Daily Prophet and avoided Harry’s gaze. “I think I would be better served pursuing other avenues,” Regulus said. “You are not the only one who was given a task to do.”

“We would appreciate the backup,” Lily said, as James, simultaneously said, “We can take Remus instead.”

Lily took a moment to weigh her anger against her compassion. She had vowed to be more patient, after all. “If Remus will come,” she said, “I know I’d be glad to have him.”

“Remus would be good back up,” Harry said, and turned to Regulus, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t come, too.”

Regulus folded up the newspaper and got to his feet. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to join you. Thank you for the news.”

As soon as Regulus had gone, Ron shook his head. “Why does he do that?”

“He’s always been like this,” James said. “I suppose when you grow up with Sirius, you learn very quickly to choose your battles carefully, and that the easiest thing is to walk away before an argument even starts.”

Lily did not understand why Harry leaned so heavily on Regulus, who seemed no more supportive than a two-legged stool, yet refused to lean on her and James. But she held her tongue. Lashing out at Harry would not work — had not worked. She drummed her fingers against the table. “If the five of us are going to —”

“Six,” James corrected.

She sighed. “— Six if Remus comes — are going to leave here tomorrow, we’ll need to be very well prepared.”

“Harry should be under the Cloak,” James said. “If we’re discovered, you’ll be protected.”

Harry shook his head. “I won’t run —”

“You’re no good to us or the Order dead.” James’ voice was firm and unflinching, though Lily’s stomach twisted at his words. “If we’re caught, you run. You can always arrange an Azkaban breakout later.”

Harry glared at James, but Lily did not think that Harry could win this fight. She remembered being seventeen, facing down a war and swearing to die beside her friends. She had not been much older than Harry was now when she had stood between Voldemort and Harry’s cradle. She had nearly died to protect Harry. And then what would have happened? Voldemort would have killed her, only to kill Harry?

A wave of sorrow crashed over her for a brief moment, as she realised how unfair it was for Harry to live the very life she and James had fought to protect him from. She took in a deep breath to steel herself.

“It’s a hard lesson to learn, Harry,” she said, “but sometimes you need to run.”

“You should be under the Cloak,” he said. “You don’t even have a wand.”

It was so tempting to rise to Harry’s temper. She swallowed down her frustration, reminded herself of the many, many times she had admonished Sirius for meeting Harry’s anger with anger.

“I’ll be fine without one,” she said, in as even a tone as she could manage. “You’re the one they want, and we’ll all be safer if they don’t know you’re with us.”

Harry’s fierce glare shifted between her and James.

“Fine,” Harry snapped. “I’ll wear the Cloak.”

It was a small concession. It wasn’t everything Lily wanted. It wasn’t secrets and answers, but it was something. It was a promise that Harry would do his best to stay safe. It was a promise that Harry would live.

“We’ll leave at dawn, then,” said James. “I’ll get word to Frank and Alice to expect us shortly before that. You can all be ready to leave as soon as I get back with Remus?”

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all nodded.

“I’m coming with you,” Lily said.

She could see in his eyes that he wanted to protest, but she returned his stubborn gaze. She was not going to sit here and hide. She was tired of waiting. Besides, he was the one who had said they should both talk with Remus.

James’ shoulders slumped. “Fine.”

Hermione packed her books and parchment back into her bag while Harry and Ron did the dishes. The house was quiet, a sort of quiet Lily remembered from the first war, a familiar calm before the storm.

Despite the quiet, she did not feel especially well-rested when she and James stepped out of Grimmauld Place in the dark hours of the morning. She surveyed the park across the street and the few streetlamps illuminating the walkways.

“How many do you think are out there?” she whispered as he took her hand.

James followed her gaze and grimaced. “Hopefully less than half of what there was this morning. And hopefully less where we’re going.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ll have to be quick when we arrive. Are you ready?”

She nodded and together, they Disapparated.

The magic pulled on her body, collapsing her into James and unfolding her in a single breath. Her feet hit the ground and she had hardly gotten her bearings when James hurriedly pushed her inside a large iron gate then down near the attached wall. She crouched low against the stone as footsteps pounded up the path behind them.

“I heard someone Apparate!” a voice shouted.

Lily held her breath and wished her heart would stop pounding. She was afraid it would give her away.

“There’s nothing here,” someone else said.

A light swept over the pathway, inches from James’ feet. She couldn’t exactly fault him for being unable to draw his ungainly legs up against the brick as tightly as she had drawn hers, but if his tall form was going to be the thing that got them into a duel tonight, she might have some words for her younger self and her fixation on lanky men.

“The gate’s still shut,” the second one said. The light swept away from the house and their hiding place. “Maybe they ran off that way.”

James and Lily listened as the footsteps faded away. They waited until the night was silent once more to even breathe.

James stood and pulled Lily to her feet.

“How did we get in without opening the gate?” she whispered.

“Alice Transfigured a couple of the bars to be flexible,” James replied, voice barely audible.

James Muffled their footsteps as they walked the rest of the way up to the house. Instead of approaching the large red doors, however, James led Lily along the side of the house to a back entrance. He knocked twice, paused and knocked a third time.

Lily did not even have time to register who opened the door when she was yanked inside and drawn into a hug.

“Oh!” Alice squealed, high-pitched but restrained, as she squeezed Lily. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Lily smiled and hugged her back. “It’s good to see you, too.” Though she couldn’t see much; it was as dark inside as it was outside.

“Is Frank here?” James asked.

“He should be home soon. He took a late shift so he could see Neville off to Hogwarts yesterday.”

Lily may not have been able to see the worry on Alice’s face, but she could hear it plainly. “You let him go?” she asked.

“Neville was rather insistent, especially when he saw the paper.” Alice took Lily’s hand and pulled her through the dark room and down a corridor where there was at least light coming from a sitting room, though Alice did not take them into the room. “He said he wouldn’t let us risk our positions at the Ministry. Said we were too valuable to the Order. He’s a good one. I don’t think Frank and I deserve him.”

“Neville will be alright,” James assured her.

“Of course he will,” Alice said. “He’s my son, after all.”

Even in the dim light, the pride etched into Alice’s sadness was clear. Lily wondered if Neville knew just how much his parents adored him.

“Remus is upstairs,” Alice said. “I’d keep your wands dim as you go up, though. The last thing we need is to give the Ministry an excuse to search us.”

Lily imagined an unexplained light sweeping over a curtain was the exact sort of excuse the Ministry could use to barge into the Longbottoms’ home. At least the Longbottoms had some pretext of protection.

She clung to James’ hand, trusting him to guide her through the dark, and trailed her other hand along the wall until they reached the entryway to the Longbottoms’ home and the grand staircase that led up.

“I assume you know where we’re going?” she whispered.

James didn’t answer, or he nodded and she didn’t see it in the darkness, but he did lead her upstairs, to the right, and down another corridor. James knocked softly on the door.

It creaked open and Remus’ voice, full of bitter and melancholy, greeted them. “Alice mentioned you were coming by.”

Lily swallowed down a sarcastic, “Good to see you, too,” and followed James inside without comment. She heard the rustle of curtains, then a small light, no brighter than a match, appeared in the center of the room. It was dim, but after so long in pure darkness, Lily had to blink to adjust to it.

In the low light, Lily could make out the scant furniture of Remus’ room: the shadow of a bed and a bedside table, a heavy curtain pulled closed over the window, and the tall dark shape of a wardrobe. Next to the wardrobe, Remus’ trunk sat open, its contents spilling out of it in messy piles.

James took a seat on the floor by the wardrobe and Lily slipped into the space between him and the trunk. There was something about the darkness, the small room, and the secrecy that reminded her of being teenagers again, sneaking around behind professors and prefects, but this time the fear of being caught did not provide excitement like it had then. This time the fear was overwhelming.

As Remus joined them on the floor, the light lowered until it, too, rested on the rug.

After a moment where no one spoke, Remus said, “I know what you’re here to say, so say it and go.”

Lily bit down on her tongue. She wanted nothing more than to tell Remus how of course she wanted to be with Harry, how she had tried to talk James out of this visit because Harry came first, and that Remus ought to take a page out of their book and show the same devotion to his own child, but she didn’t. She took in a deep breath and decided to let James do most of the talking.

But James hesitated, almost as if he had been relying on Lily’s temper to start the conversation. When she didn’t start, he said, “I guess if you know what we’re going to say, we don’t need to say it. So why don’t you tell us why you’re here.”

Remus kept his eyes on the closed curtains, almost like he was watching for light or movement. But the moon was dark tonight. The low light in the room cast harsh shadows across his face, and his scars stood out in sharp relief, shimmering silver lines across his nose.

When Remus finally spoke, his voice was faint and raw. “You were there, at the World Cup. You were there in Azkaban. You’ve witnessed hundreds of transformations. You’ve had at least a glimpse of what it’s like. You tell me what I deserve, for giving that life to someone else.”

Lily’s temper flared, hot and bright. She bit down on her tongue and steeled herself against it. She turned her words over in her head, tumbled the rocks of her anger in the waves of her compassion until their edges were smooth, until she was certain that she could speak without sharpness.

Finally, she said, “No one deserves to be a parent. No one deserves the power to give life so freely, to have such control over another human being. None of us are perfect, and we will inevitably pass our flaws on no matter how hard we try to instill our graces. I also know that it isn’t an easy job to do alone. When you proposed to Tonks —”

“I didn’t.” Remus ran a hand over his face. “She asked me because she knew she was pregnant. She didn’t even want to get married, she never wanted any of this…”

“You know that isn’t true.” Though James’ words were soft, his tone was firm. “We’ve all agreed that Tonks is pack now. She’s family.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small gold rings. He slid them across the floor and to Remus.

“Before your dad arrived and ruined our plan, Sirius had me make these. The inscription was his idea, though I did the Charm work myself. I never was as good as you at getting the Call-And-Response Charm to work, so it’s a bit simpler than your handiwork on the map.”

Remus looked down at the golden rings. They were nothing but plain bands, with no indication of magic or intrigue.

“What’s the incantation?” Remus asked.

“You’ll figure it out,” James said.

Lily took in a deep breath and tried to mimic James’ gentleness. “You said that James has had a glimpse at what things are like for you. If your child is like you, don’t you want them raised by someone who knows what they’re going through? Don’t you want to make sure that they don’t have to feel alone?”

“She has a point,” said James. “You can’t expect your kid will get lucky enough to find school mates willing to break Wizarding law just to turn themselves into Animagi out of sheer arrogance.”

If it was supposed to make Remus laugh, it didn’t work. If it was supposed to make him cry, James came very close. His lips trembled and he pressed them into a firm line. He blinked a few times and managed to compose himself before the tears could quite fall. Lily couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of how even his voice sounded when he spoke again.

“You don’t think I made the wrong choice, choosing Tonks?”

Lily did not know how to answer. She looked at James, who kept a steady gaze on his hands as he twisted his wedding band around his finger.

“You know I can’t answer that for you,” he finally said. “No one can. But if you’re that worried about it, talk to her. Talk to both of them. Don’t shut yourself away like this. We’re family, Remus, all of us.”

The silence in the wake of James’ words was heavy, but Lily hoped it was a good sort of heavy. She was proud of herself for not losing her temper, and proud of James for listening to Remus, rather than pushing for solutions — a flaw she and James both struggled with, especially when dealing with Remus and Sirius, who more often than not just needed to be heard.

When it was clear that Remus had nothing more to say, Lily decided it was appropriate to change the subject, and she recounted Harry’s request to Remus.

The melancholy on Remus’ face faded slowly as she spoke, giving way to worry and confusion. “Why Godric’s Hollow?” he asked.

“He said Dumbledore’s left something there,” James said, “or You-Know-Who has. They aren’t entirely sure, and wouldn’t say more, but they’re involving us, so that’s progress.”

Remus rubbed his jaw and stared down at the small light between them. “You haven’t any idea what they’re looking for?”

“None.” James ran a hand through his hair. “I still don’t know why Dumbledore would keep anything from us… or Harry, either.”

There was pain in his voice, so disparate from the bitterness that Lily felt towards Dumbledore. She took his hand and squeezed it. She was angry with Dumbledore for this secret, and angry with Harry for choosing to keep it. James, however, was hurt, more than she truly understood.

“I suppose it’s possible there’s some clue left behind in the wreckage,” Remus murmured. “Didn’t the Ministry scour it pretty thoroughly?”

“I couldn’t care less what the Ministry has or hasn’t done,” Lily snapped, grateful to have an appropriate outlet for her anger. “Besides, I’m sure Harry, Ron and Hermione know to look for something the Ministry doesn’t.”

“You’ll come with us, won’t you?” James asked.

Remus nodded, though his gaze was still distant, still puzzling over the plan. Perhaps James was right to invite Remus, to give him something to do other than wallow in misery and self-loathing. Maybe this was the best way to nudge Remus back to his friends. Certainly it would be more effective than a sanctimonious outburst from her.

Lily stood. “We’ll let you get together what you need, then.”

She and James left Remus to gather what little he had, but before the door closed, blocking out all light, Lily caught sight of James’ small smile. It was the same fond smile he had given her during an Herbology class in their sixth year, when she had excitedly announced that her Flitterby bush was blooming. It was the smile that had finally convinced her that she was officially in love, though it would take her a few more months to admit it to anyone else. It was full of pride and love, the sort of smile Lily wanted nothing more than to kiss.

So she did.

He laughed softly as her mouth touched his, and he broke the kiss but pressed his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he whispered, “not just for being patient with Remus but for understanding why I needed to bring him with us.”

“I imagine Sirius already did most of the scolding,” she said. “I was happy to just listen.”

This time he kissed her, and laughed too.

When Remus was ready — he did not have much in the way of things to pack — they whispered good-byes to Alice.

They left by the door they had come through and crept around the house with muffled footsteps. It was difficult to see with no moon to light their way; they had only the faintest grey on the eastern horizon and the occasional light of a fairy drifting from one bush to another to mark the path.

They stopped as they reached the gate. James easily found the pliant iron bars, and once he had, he helped Lily through.

They moved more slowly this time, choosing caution over speed, and trusting silence and the darkness to protect them. Lily would regret that choice for the rest of her life.

Remus was halfway through the gate when Lily heard footsteps coming up the path again. She turned, unsure if she should shove Remus back or yank him through. There was no time for a decision as a light landed on the three of them and someone shouted, “There!”

A red spark would have struck Lily in the chest if she hadn’t stepped to the side.

Remus cursed as he reached for his wand and stumbled out of the gate. He drew just in time to put up a Shield Charm, providing cover for James. Two charms crashed into it, the sound loud against the otherwise silent night.

Their attackers were running towards them now, and it was not a question of whether Remus’ Shield could withstand their blows, but a question of if they could Disapparate in time.

Lily grabbed James’ hands and pulled him through the gate.

“Remus!” She clung to James with one hand and reached for Remus with the other.

The shield dropped and Remus grabbed her hand. She felt herself fold into James as he Disapparated the three of them, her body compressing with the familiar pressure — and then an unfamiliar pressure struck her.

She didn’t have time to realise what was happening until they reappeared on the top step of Grimmauld Place and she saw that one of their assailants had grabbed her leg at the last minute.

She kicked the man in the face, dislodging him and sending him backwards down the stairs.

“Oh no,” she gasped, as a pair of cloaked Death Eaters emerged from the park across the street.

“They’re there!” the man shouted and pointed. “They’re —”

“Silencio,” Remus whispered, and the man’s words died in his throat.

“That won’t buy us enough time,” James hissed, wand already pressed to the door, undoing the locks.

“I’ll buy you time,” Remus said.

Lily grabbed his arm. “No — if you’re caught —”

The door swung open and James pushed Remus and Lily inside. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Finite!” one of the Death Eaters shouted.

“No!” Lily shouted, reaching for James’ hand to pull him inside.

“There!” the man shouted. “Can’t you see them? They’re still standing on the steps of number twelve!”

“It can’t be you or Remus.” James pulled his hand away and Lily choked down a sob. “Take Harry and go.”

The thick black door closed, and Lily hardly felt the Tongue-Tying Curse wash over her. She was already choking, already fighting down every piece of rage and sorrow that surged within her.

If someone had asked her an hour ago what James had said to her on that Halloween night sixteen years ago, she might have been able to guess, but hearing it again in his voice, in the same anxious pitch, triggered the memory of that night as clearly as if she had fallen into a Pensieve. Her chest was tight and her breath came in short spasms, but his words also spurred her into action.

She ignored the distorted, ghostly image of Dumbledore rushing towards her, and left for Remus to deal with. She passed right through it and mounted the stairs two at a time. She threw open the door to Ron, Harry, and Hermione’s room.

“We’re going, now!” she shouted.

“What’s happened?” Ron asked. He was only half-dressed and hastily pulled a shirt over his head. “I thought we had said dawn —”

“Death Eaters are here.”

That got them moving.

She leaned over the bannister and shouted down to Remus, “Have you seen Regulus?”

“He was in the study,” Remus said. “He’s taking Kreacher.”

Lily cursed. Of course the house-elf would have been the easiest way out and of course Regulus would take Kreacher for himself, rather than offering all of them the quick Apparition trip. Then again, maybe it was for the best. Kreacher might intentionally Splinch any one of them.

“Kitchen window?” Remus suggested.

Lily’s lips trembled and she looked back over her shoulder. Harry had his glasses on and was pulling the Cloak over his shoulders as Hermione fumbled with her beaded bag.

“Follow Remus to the kitchen,” she told them.

“Mum —”

But Lily was already running down the stairs. She crashed into the wall, knocking over a portrait and waking up Walburga. Lily ignored the screams and hurried for the door.

She didn’t know what she was going to do. She didn’t have a wand. She couldn’t do as much as lift a pocket watch.

As Lily wrenched the door open, she recalled the author’s words on intention and focus being the keys to casting, which she also remembered from her studies in Charms. When casting, she had always envisioned what she wanted to happen. The book had suggested there was a need greater than the effect of magic. She needed to picture the cause.

James had not gone far; he defended the bottom of the steps valiantly. Though he had never been able to produce a sizeable Shield Charm the way she and Remus could, he was quicker than either of them, able to deflect and return fire with an admirable accuracy. A red spark shot towards his left, and he stepped aside while returning fire with a matching curse. His target crumpled into the pavement.

Lily was not going to be helpless. She focused on her magic, on the spark inside of her, on the things she felt when she cast — anger, love, fear, and joy, the things that filled her and fueled her. She imagined her magic sparking in her fingertips, like flint igniting tinder. She focused on that power, on that fire, and stretched her hand out to the nearest Death Eater.

There was a loud bang and he stumbled backwards, robes ignited. The flames were easily doused by the Death Eater’s partner, but it gave James the time to Stun them both.

He turned back to her with his eyes full of wonder and a stupid grin on his face.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?”

“Maybe once or twice,” she smiled.

“Where’s Harry?”

“I’m right here.” Harry pulled the Cloak down, and Lily jumped.

“Merlin, Harry, I told you to go with Remus —”

“You ran off without a wand, Mum. I wasn’t going to let you fight alone!”

James sighed. “Harry, you promised us you’d run if —”

“Incarcerous!”

Lily had not seen the Death Eater recover from James’ Stunner, but she saw the ropes spring from his wand and yank James down into the pavement. He hit the ground with a crack and she stretched her hand out to —

To what?

She did not have the accuracy needed to free James. She could perhaps Conjure an explosion, blast the Death Eater away —

The Death Eater rolled up his sleeve revealing a bright red brand on the inside of his forearm. He grinned at her — no, not at her, at Harry — as he pressed his wand tip to it and the brand turned black.

What was it she had said to James all those years ago?

Harry comes first.

She did not know if it would work without a wand, but she did not know what choice she had. She wrapped her arms around Harry, closed her eyes, and focused on her destination: Godric’s Hollow.

[blankdblank]

Anaticula Pt 30

Goblet of Fire Year!! Finally!! Lot’s of changes, hope you like them!! :D

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 22 - Pt 23 - Pt 24 - Pt 25 - Pt 26 -  Pt 27 - Pt 28 - Pt 29 -

A doorbell tore you from your sleep as it echoed through the Black Family Home. Stretched out across the couch in the sitting room after a late night in helping to mend a gash on Arturo’s leg from accidentally flying too close to a horned bush leading to his place on a pile of cushions inside the house near the fireplace, sound asleep from the medicine you had given him to keep him from picking at his bandages. Brushing your curls from your face you sat up finding Neville grumbling as the pillow on your legs he was using shifted stirring him as well. “Sorry Neville.”

He sat up rubbing his eyes, “Who is it?”

Draco on the couch across from you groaned from under his own pillow, “Beaten and flogged. That’s what dad always shouts when there’s guests before noon.”

You giggled softly eyeing K entering the room with Snape and Barty behind him smirking while holding a magazine to his chest. “Morning Sevy,” that made Draco’s head pop up and him rise to his knees letting his blanket clump up under him when he shifted to sit draping his legs off the couch as they sat beside him after passing you the magazine.

Potions Monthly, on the cover you eyed the new cauldron a shop in Diagon Alley was featuring, “Freezing Cauldrons?”

Snape shook his head pointing at it, “Page 73. I folded it over.” You flipped through the magazine, “Your potion! It got featured in this month’s issue!”

Looking up at the teachers grinning at you wildly you said, “But, I haven’t even gotten my results back on my OWLS yet.”

Barty, “Yes, but! A Fifth year brewing a successful Potion of All Potential! No one has tried that! They’re talking about even extending the deadline for the Wizarding Potions Championships so you can compete in it, it’s every seven years and you didn’t qualify your first year.”

“What if I don’t want to-,”

Snape waved his hand, “Oh it doesn’t mean you have to compete, but just the statement that a student from Hogwarts had brewed that, is something in itself. Plus, Fred and George along with Cedric got a mention for their Draught of Living Death. All for Hufflepuff, great for the house pride. Graduates often fawn over their housemates and a great deal are boasting about Hufflepuff now, and not just Newt.”

Nodding your head you asked, “Do you want breakfast?”

Barty, “Breakfast would be lovely, thank you.” Standing as you did, “The Weasleys aren’t here?”

Neville, “Oh, no, Ginny had the flu, sort of ran rampant. Percy was here though, but I think he left for his Ministry job though with Regulus.”

Snape, “Percy lives here now?”

You nodded in the kitchen levitating the kettle to the sink to fill up as you brought out some eggs you started to crack open to scramble with some cheese, “Ya, he um, got offered a position working near Fudge. Arthur, well, you know how Fudge is, so Percy thought it best he got his own place and we reminded him he’s always welcome here and it’s better than him shacking up in some hole somewhere. Better he be home where we can drag him to bed when he drops.”

Snape chuckled, “Well, I am certain working near Fudge he will have plenty of those nights.”

With the clearing of breakfast plates your head turned at the arrival of the mail falling in a pile in the center of the table you sorted. Leaving those for your father and uncles aside only to pause at the pale blue letter for you along with the one from Hermione atop the thick one from Luna barely half the size of the one for Neville. Barty eyed the letter asking, “Can’t be another funeral.”

You chuckled and turned it over saying, “One way to know.” Breaking the seal to pull out the letter you summarized, “They wish me well. And are traveling to England again, hoping that we might spend some more time together realizing that they hadn’t learned very much about Mum and me, how we grew up.”

Snape lowered his cup, “Hmm. That should be-,”

You sighed lowering the letter, “How exactly am I supposed to butter up the small house in Godric’s Hollow after living with Muggles?”

Barty, “Again, you’re here and magnificent and if they can’t tolerate how you’ve grown up then they can walk.”

Making you giggle again and Snape to say, “No matter their quarrels with the path to get here you are in fact here and not a thing they can do will change any of what you have faced.”

…

It was a week and with Regulus at your side you met with Vivienne and Ollivier again. For the morning you shared with them you guided them through what you knew of your mother’s childhood. Leading up to your guiding them to Godric’s Hollow where they paused taking in the lovely little sealed up cottage you lived in ending with a stop at her headstone where the pair of them were on the edge of weeping seeing the statue with your name etched into the headstone beside hers.

For lunch however the pair were excited to know that they were invited to your home, of which they both forgot how to breathe in realizing the size of the literal palace sized home hidden through the doorway of Grimmauld Place. At least in your hidden portion of your childhood you had been shown some semblance of comfort they had hoped you would be shown with your Noble bloodlines.

…

On the tail of a small growth spurt you finally enjoyed the lack of reasoning for the few mildly teasing comments you would get at the vast difference in height to the twins, especially after they had seemed to sprout up a few inches more in their sickbeds. But after they were all mended you got word that you were expected at the Burrow that had been freshly disinfected and as the allotted two weeks had concluded you packed your things and made the trip off to fetch Harry on your father’s bike. On the late morning drive you ensured to choose a weekday so that the street would be mostly empty to keep their reputation in tact.

In a low idling hum you pulled up to the house and shifted the bike into park and killed the engine then stood straddling the bike in Petunia’s curious peek out the window at you catching your quick wave. Stepping off the bike you swung your leg over and strolled around it towards the front door that she opened for you eyeing the bike over your shoulder before noticing that you were her height nearly flat footed now, “Jaqi, your father’s I presume?”

You nodded, “Yes. Don’t worry I made sure the muffling charm was intact and it is the busy hours for your neighbors so not many are home to notice. Ministry’s been busy so I couldn’t catch a ride and Arthur said something about the Muggle bus system being off limits for a month, not sure why.”

She moved aside to welcome you in, “Arthur?” Looking you over inspecting your open flannel over a tank top and worn jeans tucked into your boots.

“Oh, Arthur Weasley, practically a second dad. I told you about Fred and George,” she nodded, “he’s their father.”

She nods, “Ah, and he is highly ranked to ban travel?”

“Oh, not, really, he mainly works with Muggles, protecting them. Like when magical creatures or objects are found by Muggles he’s one of the Aurors sent to fix things. So, I was half distracted at the time with an injured Hippogriff and I caught half of it, just to stay clear of the Muggle busses for a bit. But dad’s bike is good and I do have my license for it. Took some doing but then again Alastor told the committee either they approve my application or I just fly it without one.”

She smirked at you pouring you some tea in the cup she pulled out for you, “16, I can remember Jewel at 16. If you are half a handful as she was this Ministry of yours will have their work cut out for them for you at my age.”

You giggled stirring in the additions to your tea you then raised to sip on before hearing a soft, “Sirius?” outside before the door opened and Harry passed through it.

Petunia called out, “In here Harry.”

Through to the kitchen he walked and you flashed him a wave, “Dad had to work, sorry to let you down.”

Harry smirked, “Who gave you a license?”

With a smirk you fired back, “Who killed your barber?” Teasing at his longer hair.

Making him shake his head and turn to head up to his bedroom, “I’ll pack.”

Looking to Petunia again she asked, “So, these exams of yours, any word yet?”

You shook your head, “Not yet. Few weeks still. But I did hear that my potion I brewed for it got mentioned in Potions Monthly. One of the rarest and most complicated to brew correctly.”

Her grin spread in asking, “Well that can only be good then.”

“I believe so. However I do still have 11 more classes I’m waiting on.” Through the clattering upstairs she asked more questions about your school and the visit from your great grandparents until she had to go shopping for a visit from one of Vernon’s client that night freeing you to head outside and start up the bike once Harry had climbed into the sidecar.

For nearly an hour you chatted with Harry sharing the little he had missed in his two weeks away that ended with your pulling up to the street leading up to the Burrow you landed on and drove the rest of the way to the turn in the drive to park beside where Arthur parks his car. Harry chuckled climbing out saying, “I’m still a bit concerned on how you managed to get that license.”

Smirking at him you said, “Alastor might have reminded the committee that I am capable of driving this magnificent bike with or without one.”

He chuckled saying, “Ah, there it is. Blackmail.”

You giggled replying in the walk to the house as he pulled Hedgewig’s cage from the sidecar and joined you, “Well it does have my name in it. If that’s what they force me to do-,”

At your side he peered up at you saying, “I really do hope Percy can do something about how they talk about you.” At the door you paused to open it looking at him, “I know Ron and them hate his job with Fudge, but if he can do anything there I hope he makes it easier on you.”

You rolled your eyes guiding him inside, “If they aren’t picking on me then who do you suppose they will attack next?” his brow raised and you said, “You, Harry. Closest to me in sass and stubbornness, you better hope they never stop picking on me.”

He rolled his eyes and went up to find Ron in his room as you went to the couch to plop down between the twins who both grabbed one of your legs to measure against theirs making you giggle through their joint hug, “Aww. Knew it had to kick in eventually.”

*

Little Hangleton sat silently on a dark moonless night. Through the assumed empty Riddle Manor atop the hill a secret meeting was taking place. Hooded figures knelt around a wingback chair while a raspy voice stated, “I need another.”

Within the Manor a massive snake slithered up through the halls, up the staircase and into the room passing an old vagabond in search of shelter frozen in fear at the snake. Softly she hissed out his presence to the being in the chair who then said, “Wormtail, show our guest inside. Show him in.”

Through the door Wormtail went and with a wave of his wand he brought the man up into the room where he was promptly killed by a wand extended from over the arm of the chair. The raspy voice spoke again to the hooded figure, “Find the Goblet, lay the hexes. You will not fail me again! You will ensure Potter is brought to me. And that girl, no one touches her, she is mine!”

Through a sharp gasp your eyes shot open only to see Fred covering your mouth muffling your shouts you were making in your sleep inside the muffling charm George was holding that dropped in their saying, “Just us Sis. Just breathe, just breathe.” Panting in the removal of his hand the pair of them nestled around you trying to ease your trembling until the lights through the house were switched on in a ripple and running steps were heard.

Ginny through the door of the twins room you shared with them called out, “Who’s screaming?”

Ron was heard next through his door he opened, “It’s just Harry. He had a nightmare.”

Through the wall beside you Neville and Draco were heard groaning trying to go back to sleep until George hurried to the door calling out, “Harry, What’d you dream? Jaqi had one too.”

That opened all the doors and Molly called out, “I’ll put on the kettle, everyone to the table!” In a groggy shuffle you all made your ways down and huddled between the twins both curling their arms around your back under your jet black braid the severity of the dream was made clear as Harry recited his first and then you confirmed it.

Ron, “So, Riddle’s back then…”

Draco, “Could you tell who the men in hoods were?” his eyes locked on yours intently.

“No. Aside from Riddle and Peter, no.”

Arthur counted on his fingers, “Alright, so, we have another snake, a hexed Goblet-,”

His eyes shifted to you and Sirius finished, “Along with a plot to get Harry and Jaqi.”

Regulus returned from the other room with another box of biscuits he had brought with him from your home, “Just sent a message off to Alastor. He’ll send up the signals for Dumbledore for this year.”

Neville, “Can’t imagine what’ll happen.”

Draco, “Can’t be worse than the door fiasco.”

Ginny chortled, “Oh, you mean like having that Ser guy attacking students?”

Finishing your tea you glanced up at Molly who refilled your cup after having filled Harry’s again giving your back a gentle stroke, “We’ll keep an eye out Deary.”

Remus panted in his walk through the enchanted doorway with his pajama shirt slightly askew pointing inside it, “We really need to clear the ground rules with Arturo. He was sleeping in my bed. Went to fetch my chocolate and he went berserk.”

George, “His defense you did startle him.”

Remus rolled his eyes passing you and Harry a half to the bar of chocolate he had managed to grab, “Right, shame on me. This will help.” His eyes lingering on you as Harry had mostly recovered and was nearing the request to head back to bed.

In finishing your second cup and the chocolate Fred said, “Come on, back to bed with you.”

George helped him get you to your feet and lead you back upstairs, curling you back into their beds they pushed together to snuggle around you again helping to coax you back to sleep with their tight hold on you. Soon joined by Draco and Neville behind them, the snuggling pile helped loads and by morning you were calmed enough to be able to shift your hair again and wonder at what the adults were planning on with their sneaking conversations.

…

Packed and ready for the camping trip Arthur had mentioned you awoke again in Fred’s bed across his back to the sound of shuffling through the floorboards stirring you off the gangly teen who woke at the loss of his blanket. George seemed to feel the loss as well raising his head with a narrowed gaze asking, “Hmm?”

“I think it’s time to get up.” You said planting your feet on the floor to stand and head to your bag to change from your shorts to your jeans leaving your tank top on you covered with a grey sweater you tugged the sleeves up to your elbows. Your boots were last to be added on the edge of the bed that soon bounced at the twins in their tan pants and brown striped sweaters joined you on other side of you. Shouldering your bags on your feet again you found your ways to join the line for the bathroom to brush your teeth and try to make yourselves presentable in case you ran into other humans.

Around the table through Arthur’s shouts for Ron and Harry you chatted with Hermione on her summer so far through your finishing the meal Molly sat down to herself at Arthur’s insistence. Finally together you made the walk out of the house and out into the long stretch of green in front of you. Nearly two hours you hiked until you caught sight of a figure atop a hill under a tall tree.

“Is that-?”

The twins chuckled, “Ah, no wonder Ced’s been off the grid.”

Ron glanced over at you three, “What now? Who is that?”

Arthur trotted ahead with his hand extended, “Amos!”

Amos chuckled shaking his hand, “Bout time. Nearly missed it all.”

Arthur chuckled dropping his hand, “Sorry, some of us didn’t want to get out of bed.”

Cedric dropped from the tree branch above them straightening up showing his own growth spurt near to your height now on his way to you to claim hugs saying, “Sorry, dad swore me to secrecy.”

You shook your heads and Amos waved his hand, “Come now, we have to shove on.”

Following the fathers you trudged on ahead sharing with Cedric about your dream he listened carefully to questioning all he could think of hoping it might shake something free for you in his usual way until you reached an old boot. Gathering around it you guided Harry to grip it right before it sent you hurling through the sky.

Keeping hold of the trio you managed to float your way down to land in a slight wobble while the younger teens fell hard to the ground. In a hurry you moved to help Ginny and Hermione up while Draco and Neville steadied one another after their own shaky landing as Ron hopped up and Cedric helped Harry up off their backs.

Over another hill you all stood open mouthed at the sea of people and tents around you, Amos chuckled saying, “Welcome to the Quidditch cup!”

In a straight shot you went to Arthur’s side asking, “You got us tickets to this?!”

He nodded, “I know some people.” A loud laugh came from him at your crashing hug into his chest he returned kissing the top of your head, “Any time Love. Wouldn’t have you all missing this. Reg and Arti should be up in the box and Remus has paid for the recording, still a bit timid around fireworks.”

You stepped back and grinned in his guiding you towards the ticket booths, where you encountered a trio of cheerful muggles chattering about moving pictures and talking creatures they had seen in the time you had with them and in their greetings to the next people in line until their minds were wiped again at the next hour mark. Under Neville’s arm you strolled through the tent ground with Draco keeping hold of your free hand to keep from wandering off in his sharing the dread he felt in that he had to spend the game in the box up with his parents and Fudge.

All together though you helped to pitch up the tent you all entered and chose your spots to wait before the game while Amos and Cedric led Draco to meet up with his parents with the other top Aurors and more regrettably Fudge.

.

“How much further is it?” Ron grumbled at the seemingly endless stretch of stairs to your seats.

To which Lucius teased from below, “If it rains, you’ll be the first to know.”

Draco, “I’ll trade with you.”

Lucius looked to him with a brow raised, “Fudge is expecting us.”

Draco rolled his eyes mocking his voice in a poor gravely tone, “Fudge is expecting us.”

To which Lucius turned him while saying through your soft giggle, “I tried to switch boxes, but he kept changing the numbers of which he wanted. Damn fool, indecisive and superstitious, terrible mixture.” Adjusting the collar on Draco’s shirt he added, “After the match you can head back with them. I will try to keep him from hovering over you.”

Through your giggle you mumbled to Neville, “For all his Muggle hating ways he is quite the mother hen lately.”

Making Neville snort through Ginny’s stating, “Well of course, we stole his puppy and now he’s trying to win him back.”

High atop the stands you grinned eyeing all the faces in the thousands of seats filling the newly crafted stadium. The roars of the people died as Fudge took his place and announced the beginning of the match.

At that for the introduction of the Kenmare Kestrals a green streak of light shot into the air and exploded revealing a dancing leprechaun stirring up the cheers again, “It’s the Irish!”

On a row of broomsticks you caught a wave of green soaring out of nowhere seemingly beginning a circle around the pitch in a downward spiral raising the cheers in passing those near them. An outcry sounded in the arrival of cloaked women who began to dance out on the pitch, clearly Veela in the attentions they were getting, drawing attention uncontrollably from men in the stands. Through that a spearhead of the Bulgarian National Team broke apart the leprechaun dancing above starting their own circle while the brother’s Krum split the apart, both doing various stunts on their bright red Nimbus’.

To the flipping of signs in the crowd formed a giant mural the Bulgarian side made showing off images of their team they glanced around the stands only to pause in staring over at your section. A call from their teammates broke their focus and snapped them back into the game.

Each rough pass and barely managed save from Ireland gave them a vast lead over Bulgaria. Though for all the efforts of the younger bright eyed man bun bearing Krum, Sebastian, tried to win over your attention and favor in the match while Viktor kept making circles stealing glances over at your group until he finally spotted the snitch. In their terrible lull in points the capture managed to bring them back to a respectable losing number so they could still hold their heads up high after the grueling match.

In Ireland’s circling the pitch for their victory lap your eyes turned to the Krums in their approaching your group, Viktor holding the game snitch and Sebastian holding the game Quaffle. Straight to you and Hermione they came silencing your group, tenderly the pair claimed your hands to kiss your knuckles.

Their eyes remained fixed on yours, through Hermione’s creeping blush and your hair and eyes turning mint green. Watching along with the world when they raised the balls they wordlessly and wandlessly shrunk and added to white gold chains they folded in your palms they cradled in their palms for a moment before releasing them to fly back to their calling team who had to fly down and help get their Veela mascots away from Ireland’s Leprechauns.

Around you the twins lowly started to, “Ooh,” before you and Hermione shushed them only to break into awkward giggles at the pair taking your necklaces to drape around your necks while you stole glances at the distant Krum brothers giving you one final wave each then turned to head to their locker. Leaving the pitch and cheering crowd to the Kenmare Kestrals to soak in the adoration of the fans for their victorious idols.

…

On the couch beside Hermione in your hushed conversation as to what you had done to earn the attention Ron continued on about Viktor and his various feats in the game, “There’s no one like Krum.”

George, “Krum?”

Fred, “Dumb Krumb?”

Ron, “He’s like a bird, the way he rides the wind.” Twins circling him flapping their arms, “He’s more than an athlete.”

Twins, “Dumb Krum.”

Ron, “He’s an artist.”

Ginny, “I think you’re in love Ron.”

Ron, “Shut up.”

Twins singing, “Viktor, I love you, Viktor, I do.” Harry joins in, “When we’re apart my heart beats only for you.”

Clamoring outside grew, through which you glance at Arthur in his move to inspect the noise.

George, “Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on.”

Arthur rushed back in and you stand along with Hermione, “Stop! Stop it! It’s not the Irish. We’ve got to get out of here now.”  

You gasped in his telling glance your way mentally sharing what he’d seen, “Neville!” racing out of the tent to go fetch him from visiting Luna a few tent blocks over.

“Get back to the port key. Fred, George, Ginny is your responsibility! Go!”

Hermione and Harry run off one way, the twins the other, Harry inevitably being separated and knocked unconscious. In your own frenzy you managed to find Neville and guide him, Luna and her father toward the portkey, shoving Draco with them when you turned shifting into a Phoenix to try and fly overhead finding Harry and the others if they hadn’t escaped yet.

Far under you seas of people raced in frenzies while Death Eaters strolled cloaked through the tents lighting fires and hexing Muggles as they went. Again and again you circled without any sight of Harry but Hermione’s frenzied shouts for him brought you down to the ground beside her asking, “Harry’s gone?”

In the distance a flash of green appeared and you gasped at the giant Dark Mark in the sky then you raced onward as Hermione shouted his name again right beside you hearing Ron calling out his name in relief. Reaching the boys your body refused to stop at a hunch and you tackled them to the ground pulling Hermione with you just in time to hear dozens of Aurors shout, “Stupify!”

Red beams of light soared over your head and collided through Arthur shouting, “That’s my son!”

On your feet again you stood between Barty Crouch Sr and Harry while Arthur shielded the other two behind him, “You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!”

Harry, “What crime?”

Over your shoulder you answered, “Harry, that’s the dark mark, Riddle’s mark.”

His eyes rose to the mark lighting up the sky, then he said, “Those men before, in the masks, his followers?”

Arthur, “Death Eaters.”

Barty’s eyes looked you over, “I do not believe you are so innocent. Not with your family. Show me your wand!”

With a sigh through Harry’s protesting behind you your wand was drawn and presented to the Wizard, who turned and tapped it with his wand sending a stem of flowers to shoot out the end of your wand making him look at you, “Last spell I used was to help a friend in school make a bouquet for a project.” He sighed and passed it back to your dissipating the bouquet freeing you to sheath it again.

Off to your left however an envelope popped up and his wand was aimed at your throat, “Ah! Co-conspirators! The meet up location no doubt!” he said grabbing the envelope he tore open to pull out the folded paper inside that made his face drop before he passed you both, flatly saying, “Congratulations.”

His body turned and you quickly read over the simple note,

“Miss Black,

We hope this letter finds you well! It has been a rough deliberations but with much careful thought into the matter we are proud to welcome you among our ranks at Hippogriff and Hemlock. Further membership details and memorabilia will be arriving in the full package to your home shortly.”

Folding the paper you put into your back pocket you mumbled to yourself, “Your son was right, you are an ass.” To which Arthur chuckled along with the teens under their breath.

In his turn back to you Harry said pointing into the distance, “There was a man before, there.”

Barty sr, “Follow me. All of you, this way.”

Arthur, “Who was he?”

Harry, “I don’t know, I didn’t see his face.”

Moving to your side his hand settled in yours and he joined you on the long walk back through the charred field stealing glances at the miniaturized quaffle bouncing against your chest in the walk trying to remind himself of the match instead of focusing on that horrible dream of his and the masked man he linked to the one in your shared dream.

…

‘Attacks at World Cup!’ The headlines rushed across the world and through the articles were mingled assumptions that this was either an elaborate crime using Death Eaters as the scapegoats, that one drew the most scoffs from your group, or there were the few willing to risk Fudge’s wrath to say that the Death Eaters were back and that meant Riddle was right behind. But all of the papers followed with a soon whirlwind of a story Fudge no doubt forced ahead much to his ire.

By the following morning from the fifth page a picture of you and Hermione being ‘wooed’ by the Bulgarian brothers Sebastian and Viktor was followed by articles of pure gossip alluding that you had somehow met and held secret relationships across oceans. All with building hope that your relationship would blossom and build bridges between your worlds, all fashioned to be star crossed lovers the world seemed to be rooting for.

With your forehead on your crossed arms you groaned through Draco’s popping up to wave the paper, copying it then saying with said copy in hand, “This is going in the scrap book.”

You raised your head and looked at him only to hear Ron say, “The best article written about you so far. Worst bit of cover up fluff so far, but still, worth adding.”

You looked over at Hermione rereading it herself with brows furrowed in confusion, still lost like you were on why they had been drawn to you both at all.

(And yes, i did use Sebastian Stan as insp for Viktor’s twin brother. I am pitiful with making up names to explain why i didn’t change the name.) Hope you like it! More flirting and awkward teen moments to come in this frenzied year. :D

Pt 31

[veritas-roleplay]

LILY EVANS ♦︎ GRYFFINDOR ALUMNA ♦︎ ORDER MEMBER ♦︎ FC: SOPHIE SKELTON ♦︎ TAKEN

B I O G R A P H Y :

(tw: death of a parent)

Lily sometimes wonders, late at night after everyone around her is asleep or during the day when nothing else holds her attention, if the magic made her a rebel or if being a rebel made her magic. Regardless of the reason, it was clear from a very early stage that Lily was not born to follow convention. She would swing too high, stay out too late, and always ignored her mother’s warnings about bringing wild animals into the house. A particular incident, which was mortifying for all involved other than Lily, was the Easter she was six when she stood up on the pew in the middle of the sermon and informed the preacher, in none too quiet a tone, that he’d better stop talking, because his voice was making a baby in the congregation cry. Most of the town laughed at the story, but the preacher was never quite as friendly to the Evans family after that, and they took to sitting in the back, Lily securely seated between Mr. and Mrs. Evans with each holding her hand.

Lily was never the most well behaved child. Her parents generally agreed that she always meant well, but every now and then she went too far, and no amount of talking-tos or punishments could make her regret her actions. This was a lesson her year 1 teacher learned all too well. Lily tried to go through the proper channels, informing first her teacher, then her parents that the boy who sat behind her was teasing her, but when that yielded no results, she decided she would just have to take care of herself. The next time Lily’s hair was pulled she launched herself across the desk and punched him squarely in the face, breaking his nose and her own thumb in the process. At first, Lily was told she wasn’t allowed to play outside during recess until she apologized. When, after a week, none was forthcoming, the teacher upped the ante, giving her lines to write in after school detention. Not even a trip to the principal’s office and the sharp slap of a ruler across her palms would convince her; Lily refused to apologize, because she refused to accept that she was not in the right.

This is not to say that Lily was a troublemaker, though. The town of Cokeworth at large thought that little Lily Evans was a delight. For every time she took things too far, there were half a dozen times she helped her mother with the shopping, or played sweetly on the playground with her sister, or sat quietly in the back of her father’s classroom with a book. She was quick with a please, and a thank you, and a smile that could light up the darkest of days. She was a good student, clever and helpful, and once her teachers learned to take her seriously when she raised an issue she rarely caused trouble in class. At the age of 9 she began to earn pocket money as a “mother’s helper,” entertaining and keeping an eye on young children as their mother cooked dinner, or did chores, or even took a nap in the next room. In later years, she’d turn this foundation into several successful summer jobs as a babysitter and even in one case a nanny.

When her Hogwarts letter arrived on her 11th birthday, Lily was more prepared that most muggleborn children. She knew all about the magical school and what she would learn there from her best friend, Sev. Once the social worker had calmed her parents down, Lily really only had one question, could Petunia come with her? The social worker did his best to explain that, no, as a muggle Petunia could not accompany Lily. For her part, Lily was disappointed by this answer, but it  did little to dampen her enthusiasm. She carried her letter with her everywhere, taking it out to reread when she was alone and sleeping with it under her pillow. She made sure to coordinate her trip to Diagon Alley with Sev’s so he could show her around and they could get their wands together. On the morning of september 1st, platform 9¾ saw a teary goodbye between Lily and her family, but she boarded the train with a smile on her face, excited to discover what Hogwarts had in store for her.

It turned out that what Hogwarts had in store for her was a bit of a mixed bag. She’d naively assumed that she and Sev would be sorted into the same house, not realizing that even at such a young age they were already set on very different paths. Lily didn’t mind being in Gryffindor, in fact she rather liked it. There she found people who were as quick to stand up to bullies as she was, people who could match her, stubbornly held opinion for stubbornly held opinion. In Gryffindor she found people who could be just as self-righteous as she, and were more willing to forgive such moods than those who didn’t understand. But she worried about Sev all alone in Slytherin. It didn’t seem like a terribly warm and friendly house, and from what little Lily knew of Sev’s home life she was sure that’s what he needed. So she did her best to include him in her house. Even though she couldn’t bring him into the Gryffindor common room, she invited him to sit with her new friends in class and study with them in the library, doing her best to wrap Sev in all the love and acceptance he deserved.

It didn’t take long for Lily to realize that not everyone at Hogwarts thought she belonged in the wizarding world. There were sniffs of derision when she didn’t know something that was apparently common knowledge and whispers of, filthy mudblood when she passed in the hall. When she was praised for tying with Sev for the highest score on their very first potions exam, someone commented just loud enough for her to hear that she needed to, learn her place. It was a slap in the face for a little girl who, until this point, had been very nearly universally adored and welcomed. There was a steep learning curve in her first year as she discovered that she couldn’t make everyone she met love her. So she dealt with the bullies the same way she’d dealt with the boy in first year who pulled her braids, and slowly, she built an identity that was based not on how other people treated her, but on how she treated other people.

Of course, Hogwarts was not all bad. In fact, it was mostly good, with the unpleasant bits all but lost amidst days and nights full of wonder, excitement, and novelty. Each new day, each new lesson was an adventure into the unknown, and Lily loved it. As much as she learned, she was always eager for more, staying after class to ask questions of professors, begging stories from classmates who’d grown up with magic, spending time in the library researching subjects that had no bearing on any of her classes, but were still fascinating. Her professors at Hogwarts quickly came to appreciate her inquisitive and helpful spirit just as much as her teachers back in Cokeworth had. Gryffindor house fit Lily like a glove, and she built friendships in other houses, as well. Flying was everything she’d ever dreamed and more, and the only thing that kept her from trying out for the house quidditch team was her abysmal hand eye coordination. By the end of her first year, Lily was set to take the wizarding world by storm, blood prejudice or no.

Lily’s success at Hogwarts was a welcome distraction from what was going on at home. The rift between the Evans sisters, which had first torn when little Lily tried to share her magic with Petunia and Petunia had called her a freak, grew wider with every day that Lily was gone, and every time she mentioned Hogwarts while at home. Before long, Petunia proved herself to be just as sharp-tongued as the worst of the bullies at school, and Lily proved herself more than capable of giving as good as she got. There is, after all, no one for knowing just how to cut you to the core like a sister. Through it all, Lily’s rock was her father. Mr. Evans had a knack for helping Lily see through the red mist of her anger to the error of her ways without making Lily feel as if she were being told off, and he had a talent for making her laugh when she was so hurt she thought, in the overly dramatic way most teenagers have, she would never smile again.

Lily grew slowly, shaped gradually by the events of her life, both magical and muggle, good and bad, into a young woman. The new friendships she’d found at Hogwarts deepened even as those oldest and most precious to her frayed. She watched Severus drift away from her, unwilling to admit it and helpless to stop it, until the bond finally snapped. She’d thought herself immune to the sting of the word, mudblood until she heard it falling from her former best friend’s lips. Pointed bickering with needle sharp words between Lily and Petunia became the new normal of the Evans household until Lily finally snapped. When Petunia tried to pretend to her new boyfriend that she didn’t even have a sister, Lily introduced herself anyway, interrupting their dinner and making sure Petunia enjoyed none of it. Lily told herself Petunia started it, but Lily knew that she had been the one to deal the final blow that severed the sisters’ relationship for good.

In the face of this Lily found comfort in likely and unlikely places. Mr. Evans continued to be her rock, even in the face of a cancer diagnosis that scared Lily to death. Throwing out all of her quills and parchment and replacing it with ballpoint pens and spiral bound notebooks before she returned to Hogwarts for her sixth year made Lily feel better. If you’d asked 13 year old Lily if she’d ever be friends with the marauders she would have laughed in your face, but 16 year old Lily wasn’t so sure. Remus Lupin seemed to understand that friends could do unforgivable things and you would still want to find a way to forgive them, and Sirius Black knew that you could hate the choices your sibling made but still love them with all your heart. So Lily fumbled along, clinging to her optimism and the newfound understanding that sometimes things changed in ways you neither expected nor wanted and you just have to do the best you can.

Lily was already holding her world together with tape and glue when the foundation was washed out from under her. When she finished her last exam of her sixth year, Professor McGonnagal pulled her aside to tell her that her father had passed away. When she arrived home, still shell shocked and not entirely sure how she got there, she learned that he’d been deteriorating since Christmas, but he hadn’t wanted to worry her, so no one had told her. The family she found on her return was not the family she’d left. Her mother was a ghost, not speaking, barely eating, staying in bed except when Petunia ordered her up to wash or change into clean clothes. Her sister had turned into a machine, fueled by grief, bitterness, and rage, Petunia handled everything, their mother, funeral arrangements, well wishers. Lily was left to drift, hollow and moorless. She might not even have made it back to Hogwarts for her seventh year if not for her friends, who’d rallied to take her to Diagon Alley for back to school shopping, make sure her trunk was packed, and ferry her to King’s Cross to catch the train.

Back at Hogwarts, Lily went through the motions. She attended classes, completed homework, performed her new duties as Head Girl, but the spark was gone. Lily had lost her Lily-ness, and she wasn’t sure how to get it back. She didn’t start to come alive again until one late night in October. It was the kind of night when it’s so late that you forget heavy things like your father has died and you no longer care about trivial things like hating someone on principle so when James said something fun Lily laughed out loud. She stopped for a moment as everything came rushing back and she waited to feel the guilt she’d felt over the summer any time she’d forgotten about her father, but it never came. So she threw her head back and laughed, and laughed, until she had a stitch in her side and tears of mirth in her eyes. The night was only the first step down a very long road, but it was a turning point nonetheless. Slowly, she found her Lily-ness, again, and she even found love along the way.

The Lily who graduated from Hogwarts was very different from the Lily who first entered it, but she was also very much the same. Facing seven years of bullying that never really went away had made her stronger, and more confident. Her growing friendship with each of the marauders, and her budding relationship with James, made her less likely to trust a first impression implicitly. The losses she’d faced, both of her father and of Severus and Petunia, had changed her the most, in ways she’s still discovering years later. But she’s still Lily, still whip smart, still convinced she’s always right, still willing to give the shirt off her back to help another person. She’s still in love with James and still looking after Peter. She never would have expected to be engaged and pregnant at only nineteen, but she’s always known she’d marry the love of her life, and she’s always wanted children. And if there’s one thing she’s learned, it’s that you have to take the good things while you have them, because you can never be sure how long they’ll last.

D E T A I L S :

☛ CANON INFORMATION : [ Lily Evans ]

☛ AFFILIATION : Order of the Phoenix

☛ BLOOD STATUS : muggleborn

☛ AGE : 19

☛ FORMER HOUSE : Gryffindor

☛ TRAITS :

         Positives : protective / compassionate / altruistic

         Negatives : stubborn / presumptuous / petty

☛ OCCUPATION : children’s tutor / potioneer’s assistant

C O N N E C T I O N S :

JAMES POTTER : fiancé, makes her laugh

REMUS LUPIN, MARLENE MCKINNON, MARY MACDONALD, PETER PETTIGREW : close friends

SIRIUS BLACK, MARGARET MCKINNON, GIDEON PREWETT : competitive with

BELLATRIX LESTRANGE, JOHN DAWLISH, BARTY CROUCH JR. : distrusts

SEVERUS SNAPE : former best friend, estranged

ALANA MULCIBER, WILLIAM AVERY : despises, picks fights with