“Look to the past and remember and smile. And maybe tonight I can breathe for awhile. I'm not in the scene, I think I'm fallin' asleep, but then all that it means is I'll always be dreaming of you.”
-Blink 182, “Feeling This”
A slight “pop” broke the ominous silence of an early autumn evening in Godric’s Hollow. Anyone watching the front step of number seventeen, Eagle Road might have noticed a trainer slipping through the front door of a cheerily lit home, but only if he, the voyeur, was particularly vigilant.
Eighteen-year old Lily Evans had Apparated onto the front step, her Disillusionment Charm wearing off just as she stepped inside the door of her home. She appraised her appearance in the foyer mirror. Her curly auburn hair was falling out of its braid, and her freckled cheeks were covered in scratches. A particularly deep gash stretched from her chin to her collarbone, and her olive sweater was ripped and torn.
It could have been worse.
Lily licked the fingers of her right hand and attempted to clean some of the blood off her face with it. It was no use, she would simply have to walk into the kitchen and have James help her clean up magically. She turned around and walked towards the living room.
“James!” Lily called, her voice echoing through the house, which was far too large for only two people. She hoped to have kids someday, but hopefully after the war ended. She didn’t want to bring a child into such a hazardous and hostile world.
“Lily! You’re home! I was wondering what had happened to you.” James Potter, Lily’s boyfriend, hurried down the stairs, his horn-rimmed glasses bouncing on his nose with every step.
Lily met him on the downstairs landing, and the two embraced. James pulled Lily’s head close to his chest, burying his face in her sweet-smelling hair. Lily linked her arms around James’ waist. She didn’t want to let him go. Finally, after a solid minute, the two broke apart. James looked Lily up and down.
“You look a little worse for wear,” he decided. “Come into the kitchen. I’ll help you clean up.” He took her by the hand and led her through the living room and into the kitchen.
The kitchen was modest, but clean and bright. A teakettle was whistling on the stove. Lily turned off the stove burner with a flick of her wand, and collapsed onto a chair at the kitchen table.
“Accio mug!” James pointed his wand at the kitchen cabinets, and a mug of tea fixed itself for Lily, hovering right in front of her for her to take.
Lily took the tea gratefully. “Thanks, James.” She sipped it slowly, allowing the hot water to warm her up. For an autumn night, it had been rather cold. Or perhaps she was just shivering from fright. It wasn’t supposed to have been a battle. It was supposed to have been a drill. But everything had been so unpredictable lately. Lily never knew what was going to happen every time she left the house, even if it was just for an early morning jog.
James sat down across the table from Lily and took out his wand, performing a series of complicated loops and twirls, siphoning blood and dirt off of her face and clothing, mending her cuts and bruises.
“Tell me what happened, Lily.” His eyes, warm brown flecked with green and amber, boring into hers. “I thought Dumbledore said it was only a drill!”
“It was only supposed to be,” Lily said wearily, running her fingers over the wound on her neck that was now only a faint scar, courtesy of James’ handiwork. “We Apparated to Diagon Alley,” Lily began.
“Who’s we?” James interrupted.
“Alice, Frank, Remus, Dumbledore and I,” Lily said. “And we took our posts. We went where we were supposed to go. Alice and Remus were supposed to act like Death Eaters, and we were supposed to follow the battle plan we developed last week.” She shook her head.
“But what happened? The Death Eaters showed up?” James asked.
“Yes. Before we could even start the drill, they Apparated right there, and they cast an Anti-Apparition Charm, so none of us could get away. We were forced to fight.”
“Is everyone okay?” James asked concernedly.
Lily nodded. “Just minor cuts and bruises. Those Death Eaters weren’t very good duelers, you see.”
James nearly laughed. “No, I didn’t think that Voldemort ever put a minimum NEWT score requirement on his recruits.” He took another sip of tea and looked out the kitchen window. The bare branches on the oak tree in the backyard were swaying back and forth. James could hear the wind rushing and whistling though the suburban landscape.
Lily noticed his preoccupation with the weather. “It was cold out tonight,” she said. “I think it may storm.”
James nodded. “It certainly does look that way, doesn’t it?”
They sat for a few moments in silence, listening to the wind, waiting for the pitter-patter of rain on the roof of the house.
“James,” Lily said, “I’ve felt so old lately. I feel like I’ve grown up so fast.” She reached her hand across the table for his. He took her cold, pale hand, and brought it to his mouth, kissing it.
“You have. And so have I. We’ve been forced to.” James said gravely.
“I know. It’s just that… for one night… I really want to be eighteen again. I want to get completely drunk off of firewhisky, like we used to in the Gryffindor common room, and waltz with Sirius, and listen to the music I listened to when I was sixteen. I want to care about nothing except my grades and if a certain black-haired, bespectacled boy liked me…” Her voice trailed off, a smile creeping onto her face, now clean and scratch-free.
“I understand completely,” James replied, smiling. “Because I want all of that, too. I want to relive those Hogsmeade visits, go to class again, wander the Forbidden Forest, go to the Yule Ball. I want it too, Lily. But we can’t have that now.” His voice suddenly became very sad and tired. “Our time to do all of that is over now. We have a different place in the world than we did six months ago, even if hardly any time has passed. Everyone’s relying on us now.”
Lily shook her head. “I’m too young to be relied upon. I want to go to Auror School, to live in a dingy apartment not protected by a million enchantments and not paid for by my old headmaster, to live off of ramen noodles “ “
“What’s ramen?” James asked curiously.
“Something Muggle university students eat,” Lily said. “It’s very cheap.”
James nodded. “I can understand that.” His eyes lit up suddenly. “Lily… I have an idea.”
A week later, Lily and James’ house was packed with old Hogwarts friends and acquaintances, a few professors, and a few members of the Order of the Phoenix. The Wizarding Wireless blared in the background, and paper chains of the Gryffindor colors of scarlet and gold were draped over every piece of furniture. A tub of firewhisky mixed with cranberry juice was situated in the corner of the living room.
Sirius was pounding out a jolly melody on Lily’s piano. James was wearing his old quidditch uniform, and Lily chatted merrily with her best friend from Hogwarts, Mary McDonald. The party-goers indulged in the firewhisky mix that Lily told them was called “jungle juice” in the Muggle world, and seemed, for the first time in ages, carefree and happy.
Even Remus Lupin seemed to be enjoying himself, James noticed. He had latched himself onto the lips of Marlene McKinnon, his frail hands running through her shiny brown hair. James laughed, and shook his head. Remus had a strict no-dating policy. However, the policy didn’t bar casual snogging. Still, he doubted his friend would even remember the incident in the morning.
Lily ended her conversation with Mary, and sat down next to James on the couch, clutching a bottle of butterbeer. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. James noticed that the sweater she was wearing “ a burnt orange v-neck cardigan “ had been her favorite item of Muggle clothing at Hogwarts. She folded her long legs underneath of herself, and leaned back on the armrest of the couch, looking James right in the eye. She took a sip of her beer.
“It’s almost like a Hogwarts party,” she said, a hint of a smile playing in her eyes.
“Minus McGonagall, Flitwick, Slughorn and Dumbledore,” James laughed.
Lily had to laugh as well. She could never imagine McGonagall attending one of the Marauder’s parties in the Gryffindor common room.
“Well, yes,” she said. “And the fact that you’re not asking me to Hogsmeade.”
“And the fact that you’re not turning me down,” James added.
“Well, that didn’t happen seventh year, either,” Lily conceded.
“Yes,” Sirius said, appearing behind the couch and putting a hand on Lily and James each. “As I seem to remember it, you two spent most of seventh year in broom cupboards.”
James cracked a laugh, and Sirius and Lily joined in. Sirius swung around the other side of the couch, sitting on the coffee table in front of James and Lily, soaking in the merry atmosphere of the party. He tapped his feet to the rhythm of the radio.
“You know, Sirius, that was some pretty impressive piano playing you just showcased there,” Lily said, breaking the moment of silence.
“Why thank you,” Sirius said. “I learned about pianos in Muggle Studies. Thought it might be interesting to learn how to play.”
“You’ve certainly got some hidden talent there, my friend,” James said, toasting to Sirius as he lifted his jungle juice to his mouth.
Sirius shrugged. “No. I’m just better at everything when I’m drunk.”
The three friends turned to face Dumbledore, who was standing at the threshold to the kitchen tapping his spoon on his wine glass, which James noticed, was also filled with jungle juice. He had to suppress a laugh. Always the Muggle lover, Dumbledore was. Not that that was a bad thing or anything.
After a few moments, the thirty or so people in the house quieted down and looked at Dumbledore. He lowered his glass and surveyed the room with a twinkle in his eye.
“As a famous Muggle author once wrote,” Dumbledore began, “they were the best of times, and they were the worst of times.”
Lily recognized the quote as Charles Dickens’.
“Charles Dickens could have very well been speaking about our world five years ago, or our world today.”
James silently wondered what Muggle authors had to do with anything.
“And so we must remember, in every Dark Age, there is still, always, a bit of light to be found. What may seem like an impossibly dark time is only so to that person who feels it necessary to don sunglasses after twilight.”
A wave of laughter swept around the room, and instantly, James and Lily felt considerably lighter.
“Even though these are dark times, we must find the light in them. Our friendships,” Dumbledore gestured towards Lily and James, “will become more important than ever. And we will remember these days not for the bad, but for the good things they brought. Love, namely,” he said. “And so now, and in the future, look to the past, and remember and smile. We’ve still got a long way to go. To the future?” Dumbledore suggested, raising his glass.
“To the future,” the room replied, and drank, remembering the good times passed, and preparing for the dark times ahead. James took Lily’s hand, and kissed her on the cheek.
Maybe tonight I can breathe for a while.