*~*~*
James,
Meet me in the Astronomy Tower at midnight. Don’t bring Black.
-Lily
This seemingly innocent piece of parchment had been troubling James Potter all day. At first, it was easy to shrug it off; then the inevitable questions started to flow. It didn’t take a bloody Potions Master to figure out that this was important. But the stopper was, what in Merlin’s beard did she need? It wasn’t as though James minded. It was just rather odd. It didn’t help that Lily had avoided his attempts to gain her attention. As much as James tried to stave it off, a peculiar feeling had settled in his stomach.
“Anything wrong, Prongs?” Sirius inquired calmly. He shook his mane of black hair and collapsed on his four-poster bed. His grey eyes seemed to hold an amount of concern. Bullocks, James thought.
“Nothing, Padfoot, just…thinking,” James quipped morosely.
“Yeah,” Sirius replied, a smirk on his face. Clearly, he wasn’t buying it.
“Oh, sod off, will you?” James countered disdainfully, frustration etched in his features.
An abnormal look crossed Sirius’ face. With an aggravated sigh he pushed himself up and offered James a hand, a mischievous grin playing across his lips.
“Up for some fun, James? Or have you forgotten that you’re a Marauder?”
*
After a few pranks and errant mischief making, almost all the doubts had faded from James’ mind. Sirius, Remus and Peter were his best mates; they always knew how to keep him in good spirits and they hadn’t hassled him over his strange behaviour. So, with much relief and renewed confidence, James made his way to the Astronomy Tower, slipping out quietly without his Invisibility Cloak or the Marauder’s Map. He knew his way well enough and he didn’t want Lily to become suspicious.
Twisting into the last turn of the spiral stairs, he entered the Tower. It was dead silent other than the gentle hooting of owls and the rustling of the wind. Was it the wind?
“Lily?” James questioned softly, hoping not to frighten her. It was rather dark up there. James registered some movement out of the corner of his eye. As he turned to face them, he was caught off guard.
“Imperio!” A voice jeered, and then everything went blank.
*~*~*
Kill Lily Evans. It is a simple task, but I hesitate. Why? I don’t even know the answer. All I know is that it’s the only thought running through my mind, my only goal. But I still don’t understand. It isn’t making sense. I know it is something I must do but I do not comprehend. My mind and body will it, but there is a shred of doubt planted somewhere. If I just hold on…it is slowly diminishing, but the seed is rooted strong, it is fighting to stay. How much longer can I deter this strong will? How much longer can I prevent her death by my hands? How can I feign this complex twist in my fate?
It is a strange feeling, a battle of wills. I hold on to the doubt. Yes, I understand the reasons. Everything is clear. I do not like this, I decide.
There! She’s come out of The Three Broomstick’s. She is alone; her face basked with the twinkling lights that line the street. The misty light emitted from the streetlamps lining the bustling shops makes her glow. Her cheeks are tinged a rosy pink and her emerald eyes are dull with sadness. How can I do this? Regret washes over me. I will just wait a little while longer and hope this feeling to extinguish her life will subside. I stay crouched in my position…just a little longer. I think that, maybe, perhaps, it is getting easier.
****
“Lily, what’s wrong?” asked Marlene McKinnon, one of my best friends, who is also annoyingly perceptive.
“Nothing,” I answered, lying through my teeth. In truth, I was feeling uneasy. It wasn’t the ‘Oh, this dress is so uncomfortable’ uneasiness or even the ‘Who knew that eating half a turkey at Christmas dinner could make your stomach churn like that?” uneasiness. No, it was more of a terrifying, gut-gripping feeling, the kind you get when you watching a horror movie.
However, this wasn’t a horror movie. This was Lily Evans going to Hogsmeade with her friends.
We were walking down one of the main streets in Hogsmeade; the five Gryffindor girls in my year. There was Marlene, who was slightly taller than the rest, peppy and bubbly Dorcas, cool and collected Emmeline, friendly and sweet Alice, and me, Lily. I was somehow a mixture of all my friends, though my temper exceeded theirs.
Despite being in the middle of our posse, I felt vulnerable. I had the funny feeling of being watched-one that only intensified my restlessness.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Alice asked, looking at me with concern.
I did my best to smile, but only managed to lift the corners of my mouth.
“You look a bit peaky,” Emmeline commented, her blue eyes boring holes into my green ones. “Do you want to go back to the castle?”
“No,” I replied, not wanting to ruin everyone’s trip. “I think I’ll just go to the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer.”
Dorcas nodded, though she seemed a bit concerned. “Rosmerta’ll fix you up in no time,” she said confidently.
I nodded gratefully at my friend’s answer. Waving to them, I tried to walk away casually but failed and managed a more quickened pace than I had intended.
I rushed over to the Three Broomsticks, sinking onto a bench outside instead of entering the pub. I knew that the loud and noisy bar would only give me a headache (to add insult to injury).
I turned around so that my knees were on the bench and I was sitting on my heels, and peered inside. Rosmerta, the friendly and chatty barmaid, was currently solving a dispute between two hairy warlocks, one of whom was holding a particularly sharp staff.
Sighing, I let my gaze wander. The windows were in need of cleaning (Rosmerta would probably tend to that today or tomorrow), and the side of the pub had a small message scribbled on it.
Curious, I leaned in to read. I was shocked when my chin crashed into something soft, yet solid. Peering down the back of the bench, I found myself gazing up into the eyes of James Potter.
Shock registered through me. Potter was the one following me all through town? A shiver raced down my spine. Something wasn’t right here. Even when he was being obnoxious, James knew when to leave me alone.
“James?” I whispered, clutching the back of the bench to get closer. “Why have you been following me around town?”
James didn’t answer; instead he blinked a few times.
I was suddenly aware of how glazed his eyes were. They weren’t bright and mischievous as usual, but large and dull. His face was oddly blank.
“Potter?” I asked, the uneasy feeling returning after its moment of absence. I placed my hand under his chin (the only bit I could reach). “Answer me.”
James took a few shallow, ragged breaths before answering.
“I’m here to kill you,” he breathed, pressing his wand to my temple.
****
No, the other part of my mind screams. But I have to do it. This is my mission; there is no other option. My resolution is fading, along with my ability to distinguish between right and wrong. I feel anger and hatred flowing through me; the overwhelming urge to kill no longer seems immoral.
I move from my original position, deciding my previous one did not give me a good enough view of my target. I need to get closer. Cautiously, I pull myself under a nearby bench. Odd, I think, but unexpected. My arms and legs quickly become stiff from the cold, my body chilled. My eyes follow her as she floats about, a tormented look on her face. I flinch at my knee-jerk reaction to comfort her, to tell her everything will be all right. Comfort the opposition? How absurd.
My heart leaps as she nears. I know this is my only chance. There is no room for human error. I must be precise, direct. Most of all, I must be devoid of mercy. One moment of hesitance could destroy me. Destroy this brilliant plan. But whose plan? I wonder. Surely, I know this is not of my own thinking... I block out these poisonous thoughts as my other half decides it is best for me to not become curious.
In these wasted moments, my target has drawn closer. She peers at something curiously, leaning closer to me. This is the moment.
Her sharp intake of breath tells me she has discovered me. She questions me softly, though the fear in her voice so evident. This is why we must be rid her. She is weak, the voice insists in a cruel undertone.
She wants to know why I have been following her. I don’t have an answer. I stare back blankly, exactly as I am supposed to. She is shaking now, plagued with terror. Her hand moves toward me, I make no move to avoid it. Her fingers lace themselves under my chin. They are warm and soft, reassuring somehow. Not knowing what has possessed me, I say, “I’m here to kill you.”
I raise my wand, as if to demonstrate what I mean. I grip her arm as she tries to back away. Tears fill her widened eyes; they stream down her face, as she comprehends what I am doing, her mouth forming an ‘o’ in shock. I walk around the bench, tightening my hold slightly to make sure she does not escape. She collapses to the ground. I can feel the terror gripping her heart. Something in me bursts, telling me this is wrong. I immediately let go, scared of myself.
I grip my hair in frustration. Petrified, she does not move.
“NO,” I hear myself roar. “You need to leave. Now. Get away from me;, hurry, just go! Please, Lily. I can’t…won’t do this. No.” I moan falling to the dampened earth, convulsing, my pain immense. She scrambles to her feet and picks up her wand. Her next move I do not anticipate. She kneels beside me, cradling my head. And I begin to fight.
****
James Potter, the boy famous for his infatuation with myself, has yelled at me. For some reason, it is this that makes me panic worse than I did when he first told me that he was going to kill me. Judging by his blank stare and impulse to kill me, my instinct tells me that something is wrong.
“Go!” James yells again, breaking away from me, pushing me away. His eyes are crazed and wild; his face red, tortured. I gasp as his fist collides with my face, and I can feel my lip instantly begin to puff up.
I scramble to my feet as though I’ve been electrocuted, and race off. I clutch my lip, feeling the pain. Thoughts run crazily through my head. What should I do? Should I force him to the castle or get help first? The latter seems easier, but that presents me with another problem. Should I contact Dumbledore or the Marauders first? The voice in my head says Dumbledore, but James’s friends would come to his aid faster. My whole heart wishing that we had not snuck out tonight.
What a mess I’ve gotten into.
I suddenly realise that I have stopped walking. I turn around, to see if James is still sitting down, and see an object come flying at me. I miraculously duck just in time and hear something shatter behind me. I bend down to examine the broken item, and am shocked to discover that they are Potter’s glasses. The lenses are shattered like a spider web; little pieces glistening on the ground. I quickly fix them, and am about to stand when I hear it.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!” shouts a voice, his voice, and I am painfully aware that I am about to die.
I never believed that your life could flash before your eyes. It seems too clichéd and unrealistic to ever be true. But, contrary to my opinion, I see hundreds of thousands of memories floating before me. My family and friends, my puppy dog cake on my third birthday, receiving an ‘Outstanding’ in Potions and Charms on my O.W.L.s, touching James’s face... they all swim in my vision in the few seconds after the curse has been uttered. Time seemed to slow as they blur my sight, overwhelming me, and I lie down on the ground as the bolt of green light flashes over me.
I suppose I should be grateful to be alive; however, I am more anxious than ever.
I sit up, feeling dazed. The Killing Curse had hit a nearby tree; chunks that had been blasted off now lay in odd lumps on the ground. I stare at the tree for some time. No one would care that the tree was dead and gone, but people would care if I had been the receiver of the curse instead.
I look away, a lump rising in my throat. It goes even higher when I find Potter kneeling in front of me, rocking back and forth like a disobedient house-elf. His eyes are back to normal, though very bloodshot, and I know his strange affliction is over.
I have no idea as to what to say, so I wordlessly hand him his glasses. He puts them on, eyes glassy with tears that threaten to spill over.
“Oh, Lily,” is all he manages to say before falling into me.
I hug him tightly, feeling hot tears of relief pour down mine as well as I try to process all that has just happened.
When Love Prevails by BertieBotsBeans741, PadfootnPeeves
Story Notes:
Anything you recognize, not ours. ;) Enjoy!
Chapter Notes: Thanks to Nikki and Mavis for their amazing beta-ing skills and patience.
Chapter Endnotes: Part two will be up shortly. Review if you fancy. =)