The whoosh of a speeding Bludger was followed by the scream of a female voice.

Slytherin Chaser Armis Berkley was knocked off her broom, and she fell through the air.

James Potter, Gryffindor Chaser, gripped his broom and sped towards the falling body, even though he knew he’d never reach her in time.

Severus Snape blanched. Berkley always pestered him in the common room, asking him to help her with Charms homework.

Sirius Orion Black jumped up from his seat as the rest of the spectators did. A single obscene curse escaped his lips.

Peter Pettigrew prayed. Dear God, please don’t…no…no…

Lily Evans gasped as an odd monotonous sound rang in her ears.

Remus John Lupin shuddered involuntarily. DUMBLEDORE!


***


Berkley’s accident had caused the match to end early, but no one was complaining for once. Everyone headed to the Great Hall for an early lunch to discuss the event.

“I thought she was going to-” croaked Peter.

“Yeah,” said Sirius. “Me too.”

James put down the fork and knife which he had been holding. “I think I’ve lost my appetite,” he said. Before his friends could say anything, he abruptly got up and left.

“What’s up with him?” asked Peter.

Sirius didn’t answer. He stood up to find out the answer from James himself when Remus grabbed his arm and stopped him. “Let him be, Sirius. He needs to be alone for a while.”


***


James walked out of the Entrance Hall. He didn’t know where he meant to go, but he didn’t care as long as he was moving.

To his own surprise, he found himself heading for the Quidditch pitch. It didn’t stop him. He knew it would get worse, whatever he was feeling; it was stupid to revisit the pitch so soon after what had just happened, but his pace didn’t slow down.

The Quidditch pitch was empty and silent. For someone who had never been at the place without company, the sight was somewhat unnerving. James kept walking. He took one of the rickety staircases that led to the spectators’ stand, counting the number of stairs until he reached the top. Seventy. He was panting a little when he got to the seats. Slumping into one, he closed his eyes and listened to the wind.

He didn’t know what he’d expected. Of course, he could never have caught Armis Berkley; no broomstick was faster than the earth’s gravity. He hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling of helplessness, though, and to see her falling like that…how long had the terror lasted? One second? Five seconds? An entire minute? Longer? It had seemed longer, her shriek combined with the noise of the wind in his eardrums, while his mind drew a complete blank; it had been longer, somehow, almost an eternity, before she’d suddenly stopped a foot above the ground, and James had nearly crashed into her. Dumbledore had fortunately attended the match; Dumbledore had acted on time; Dumbledore, who James trusted and admired more than any man he knew, except for his father.

James hadn’t told the others, he couldn’t, but he’d cried there on the grounds. A single tear had escaped his eyes, and he’d hastily wiped it away. It was weak and pointless. No one could be there all the time. No one could save everyone. There would be instances in life, many of them, when he’d just have to stand back and watch because he couldn’t break the shield that separated him from the one who was marked. He was neither omnipresent nor omnipotent �“ he was just a humble human being with a magic stick who could do some wonders on a broomstick.

In the end, he was only James Potter, and because he was only that, he could try. He would try, as he had done a few hours ago. There was no second thinking about it. It was what he was. Stupid? Perhaps. Arrogant? Possibly. Cowardly? No. Pessimistic? Never.

He would try, and that was it.


***


Severus headed for his dormitory, ignoring everyone along the way. He felt a little sick. He shouldn’t have eaten that much, but he’d been grasping so much at a semblance of normalcy that he hadn’t noticed how much food he was taking in.

“Severus!” called someone.

He turned to check. It was Evan Rosier.

“Yes, Evan?” asked Severus, taking care not to let his impatience creep into his voice.

“Are you coming?” asked the other boy bossily.

Severus didn’t like the way Evan talked to him and to the rest of the students in their circle. Their little group had been formed out of a common admiration for the Dark Lord, and leadership was a notion which had never been touched upon. However, Mulciber and the most of the other boys tended to be subservient to him. Severus had no choice but to employ cautious civility on his part.

“Evan,” he began, unsure how to refuse. He knew what was going to happen in the meeting. Nothing. They had been convening for the past one year, gathering information and sharing them, and yet they hadn’t got any closer. They were nowhere near their goal of getting an audience from the Dark Lord. Maybe, he didn’t have time to chit chat with sixteen year old students.

The meetings themselves had become extremely monotonous. Evan would be throwing his chest out because his father was already a Death Eater, while the others would look on in awe. It didn’t mean much to Severus as Evan was still failing in the main task. Really, there were far better ways of spending his time. And he was seriously not feeling well.

“Yes, Severus?” pressed Evan.

“I will be there,” answered Severus.

Evan nodded and returned to his seat. Severus pointed his wand at the dormitory door. They opened soundlessly to let him in, and closed in the same fashion as soon as he had entered.

Severus walked over to his bed. He pulled off his scarf and began folding it absent-mindedly. He didn’t know why he was so disturbed. Berkley was a nuisance. She didn’t understand when people didn’t want to talk to her, or even suffer her presence. Or, maybe she did, but acted otherwise. Yes, that made more sense to Severus. It was that obstinacy which dragged her to him whenever she needed some help with her homework.

Severus tried his best to deter her from approaching him. She was greeted with nothing but harsh words and a sneering face, yet she kept returning like an Ever-Bashing Boomerang. Mulciber and Avery were getting rather annoying about it. They kept teasing him about her. Severus found it extremely uncomfortable, not to mention frustrating as she wouldn’t stop. Of course, he knew there were no…romantic feelings involved. Berkley didn’t care what others were saying about her as long as she passed Charms. And she was just so stubborn that Severus had to give in at times.

That morning, though, when he saw her falling…he had felt for her. He had been scared for her. He hadn’t wanted her to die.

Which was funny, now that he thought about it. He got into his bed, resting his head on the pillow. Berkley was his bane in Slytherin, much like Potter and Black were generally. How would he feel if it had been Black or Potter? Potter, because of whom he had lost Lily?

Severus had seen much in nearly seventeen years of existence, but he hadn’t watched anyone die. He had never beheld the light of life being extinguished from anyone’s eyes.

Death...

Yet, he was going to join the Dark Lord, and serving him meant not only watching others die, but killing. It meant taking life. He was aware of how it was. Evan could use all the power he’d never earned on his own merit, but he didn’t lie about such things. The Dark Lord brooked no leniency.

The conclusion was simple. Logical. Rational. He had to start attuning himself to death. It might take some time, considering how breathless it had been to watch Armis �“ Berkley �“ to descend uncontrollably to certain death. But he’d get there in the end. He had a few things to prove to the world.


***


Sirius was pacing restlessly in the dormitory.

“Where the hell is James?” he demanded.

Remus was cleaning his wand, his back turned towards Sirius. He sighed but didn’t volunteer any guesses.

“And where’s Peter?” asked Sirius.

“I expect he went down to the Owlery,” replied Remus.

“He’s not writing to his mother, is he?” continued Sirius.

Remus sighed again. “Sirius, my dear friend,” he began in a strained voice, “they are both trying to deal with it in their own way. Just…just let them be for a bit.”

Sirius tried the curb the resentment that was seething inside him. He didn’t like Remus sitting there, coolly wiping his wand with a wet cloth and talking to him without even looking at him. He didn’t like Peter rushing to write to his mother instead of trying to sort out his feelings with them. Worst of all was James who had simply vanished. At least with Peter one knew what he was doing and where he was doing it, but James wasn’t the type to just take off like that. Sirius didn’t understand the sudden change, and staying put inside the dormitory doing nothing about it was definitely not helping.

“Yeah, well, I’m going down to the lake for a while,” he told Remus, preferring not to reveal he was going to search for James.

Remus didn’t reply for some time as though he saw the white lie for what it was. “Okay,” he replied finally.

Sirius was irritated. However, he left the room quietly, stowing his wand inside the pocket of his trousers and pulling on his cloak. He wondered where James would have got to. Remus was right about letting a person deal with “it” on his own, but James had been gone for nearly two hours. It wasn’t like him to stay alone moping to himself for such a long stretch of time. Sirius only wanted to know if there was any way he could help.

He caught snatches of conversations as he walked along. Armis Berkley, one of the most exasperating characters in his year, was the talk of the day. She had nearly secured herself a ticket to the great beyond in the season’s first Quidditch match.

To her credit, Sirius had never actually disliked Berkley. Sure, she was aggravating in her own whiney way, but Charms, which the Gryffindors happened to share with the Slytherins, was entertaining mainly due to her utter failure at it. He snorted as a memory of Flitwick with a lilac moustache floated into his mind. She’d somehow managed to pass her Charms O.W.L much to Flitwick’s apprehension and bewilderment, but Sirius had been delighted to see her in class. Now that he was thinking about it, Berkley was the only Slytherin towards whom he harboured no ill feelings.

Sirius had been shaken by her accident like everyone else. To have such a spectacle unfold in front of one’s eyes �“ it had been unreal. Berkley had fallen off her broom. She had lost control, and that was what scared Sirius the most, the “not having control” part. He believed he’d always been in control of things. His life and lifestyle and principles �“ they had always been his for the taking, and his for defending. But Berkley’s plunge had reminded him of one thing: death could take those privileges away from you without a second’s hesitation.

Death.

Still, Sirius wasn’t afraid of the process of dying per se. It looked easier than the struggle to live. It wouldn’t take a minute, honestly. All you had to do was close your eyes, and maybe give in to the white light which he supposed would appear. Eternal rest would follow, though he wasn’t sure if he’d like that. He preferred being up and about.

All things considered, what Sirius was now getting concerned about was the manner of dying. His mind went back to Berkley’s dramatic yet ungraceful fall. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to exit screaming helplessly. It wasn’t even a question of heroism, but it just wasn’t how he wanted to go. He didn’t care what he was involved in during the last few minutes leading up to it, but he’d love to be… laughing merrily at death’s ugly face.

Yes, that was how he pictured it. Laughing. Full of life. Like a paradox.


***


Peter was sitting on the topmost stair just outside of the Owlery.

He’d just sent a letter to his mother, telling her about the incident. She was going to hear about it anyway. It might get into the papers, and even if it didn’t, one of her many friends who had children studying at Hogwarts were bound to tell her. He’d rather she heard it from him first. That would stop her from worrying unnecessarily.

A gust of wind rushed towards him, causing him to shudder. He pulled his scarf from his neck and wrapped it around his head. It was very cold, but he didn’t feel like going down and meeting the others. He wanted to stay there for a while, alone with his thoughts.

He wondered if his feelings would have been any different if it hadn’t been Armis Berkley. What if it had been someone he didn’t know? A stranger? Granted Berkley wasn’t exactly a person he cared about, still...

No, he’d have been affected as badly. No one needed to die when they were so young, so…busy and vibrant with life. So hopeful and happy. No one needed to have their dreams snatched away like that.

Perhaps, that was why Peter hated death more than anything. The fact that it didn’t give a damn. Armis, like him, must have woken up that morning like she did everyday. She, like him, must have brushed her teeth and dressed and gone down for breakfast anticipating a Quidditch victory. She couldn’t have had any inkling of how near she’d come to losing all of that �“ the privilege of waking up wishing one could sleep longer, of brushing one’s teeth and dressing and having breakfast, even attending the many classes.

He treasured it too much, the privilege of being able to look forward to a “tomorrow.” He knew if he told the others, they would laugh at him. They would say he’d have to hand it over one day. But Peter was determined. He was determined to keep it safe with him. As long as he could.

***

Lily dumped her bag on the table, and then proceeded to kicking her shoes off and jumping headlong onto the bed.

“Lily,” spoke her friend. “Would you like to go downstairs to the common room?”

Lily shook her head. “I want to lie down for a bit.”

“Okay.”

Her friend left the room. Lily put her hands on both sides of the pillow, pushing the ends up so that they covered her ears. The ringing sound still wouldn’t stop. She cursed loudly.

The thing was, Berkley’s headlong plunge reminded her of an incident that had occurred years ago in the park near her house. It was before she’d found out she was a witch. Petunia had gone off to talk to a friend, so she had been quite alone at the swing. She still couldn’t put her finger on how it had begun, but the swing had started flying higher and higher. Exhilaration had soon turned into fear and Lily had started screaming. Petunia had rushed towards her, joining in her shrieking when she couldn’t do anything to stop it. A shrill ringing sound had assaulted her ears as Lily slipped off the seat and fell into blackness.

She had survived, of course. That had been the first time the magic in her veins broke through the surface. Her parents had been baffled, and Petunia’s terrified retelling of the event hadn’t helped much. She had claimed that Lily had slowed down just before hitting the ground, which frankly appeared impossible. Lily had been subsequently banned from playing on the swing, but she’d become curious and eager. Had she really decelerated?

Over the next few weeks, Lily had kept pulling the stunt on purpose, mainly to enjoy the sensation of the power surging inside of her. However, it had also helped her get over her fearful memory of the first time. It had been a reckless therapy, yet it had worked. Petunia had been instructed to keep an eye on her and stop her from getting on the swing. But she, like Lily, had been fascinated.

Armis’ accident that morning had forced her to recall the memory of the first fall. The inexorable pull of gravity, the paralytic helplessness as you unwillingly surrendered to it. She hadn’t been old enough to understand the meaning of death, yet it had been a terrifying sensation to hurtle downwards like that. Now that she had grown up, she thought how stupid she’d been back then. What if her magic hadn’t acted on time? What if she had just let go of the swing and come crashing down to earth?

She could have died, and it would have been for nothing. It would have been pushed aside as a tragic accident, and her parents would have lost a daughter. Above all, she’d have never received all that she had now.

That was what death meant. It was a serious thing. How could she have taken it so lightly?

She didn’t want to die. But above all, she didn’t want to die meaninglessly. She didn’t care when she’d have to go, as a wrinkly old woman or the sixteen-year-old she was now; she’d have hated to go without having served a purpose.


***


Remus stopped wiping his wand and put it down as soon as Sirius had closed the door. He massaged his forehead, trying to ease the ache.

Damn you, Remus. No one died today.

He got up and opened the window, letting the cold wind in.

Being forced to face death, or more specifically, the relentless certainty of it �“ it shouldn’t have affected him like that. How many times had he confronted it himself? Greyback’s attack, the consequent transformation every month…Every single time, he had had to wonder, “What if I don’t survive this? What if I hurt myself worse than usual?”

Or was it his intimate knowledge of that fear which had caused the numbness? Or that someone else had been made to feel it without any warning?

Or was it something else that was troubling him?

He tried to shift his thoughts to other things. James. Sirius had missed it, so had Peter. Remus, however, had registered James’s reaction the minute Berkley had been knocked off. It was a completely natural response. James’s broomstick had gone into a straight dive, trying to reach Berkley before she met the end of her fifty-foot fall. But, of course, his friend would have never made it.

In a matter of split-seconds, Remus’ eyes had turned from James to where the professors sat. Dumbledore had been on his feet, and Berkley had been saved.

Remus had never been so giddy with relief. So giddy, in fact, that he had a headache.

Being given a second chance at life meant a lot to Remus. He knew the value of such a gift. Berkley’s accident had succeeded at reaffirming its place in his existence.

So, that was what was troubling him.

Smiling, he took up his wand and went downstairs in search of his friends. He intended to cherish that gift for the time being.