"Come on, Lils. Whatever it is, you can tell me," Caradoc said softly, leaning towards Lily and lacing his fingers through hers.
Lily sighed. It wasn't a simple matter. She couldn't tell him, of course, but that didn't mean she didn't want to. It would have been nice to have someone else's opinion on the matter because she didn't know what to do. A lot of what Sirius had said was true, but she wasn't convinced that it really changed anything. Remus' actions had still been completely irresponsible.
But there was no one she could talk to about this. Sirius and James were both biased, she couldn't really discuss it with Remus, and she had a feeling Peter would just agree with whatever his friends said.
She had debated visiting her parents again, but with Petunia's wedding fast approaching, she didn't want to burden her mother with anything else. Besides, Petunia had made it quite clear on more than one occasion that she preferred if Lily didn't drop by unannounced; the presence of a freak in the house might upset Vernon.
"Lily?" Caradoc pressed, pulling the redhead from her gloomy thoughts.
Lily played with a few strands of hair and considered her words carefully. "I got into a… disagreement… with Potter and Black. And they both said some things…"
Caradoc's hand tightened around her fingers and he asked in a hard voice, "What kinds of things?"
Lily shook her head slowly and didn't give an answer right away.
After the encounter with Remus in wolf form and the subsequent fallout in her life, she'd gone to Caradoc for comfort, and he hadn't questioned her, hadn't pressed for details, hadn't forced her to talk. He'd simply held her and let her cry into his chest, and maybe that would have been enough for him if she had recovered from the problem, but it was clear that it was still bothering her and now he wanted to help. He wanted to fix it.
She wasn't sure it was something that could easily be fixed.
Finally, she said, "Potter accused me of being selfish and Black said I wasn't able to let go of the past." Caradoc stiffened, his expression growing angry, and she hurried on, "They were both right. Sort of. But I was right, too, about the things I was saying and they couldn't… wouldn't… listen. It was like I had to take responsibility for everything and they could just ignore that what they were doing was wrong."
"What were they doing?"
Lily heaved a sigh. "I can't tell you." Caradoc looked like he wanted to protest, but Lily held up her free hand to stall whatever he was about to say. "I can't. Really."
"Was what they were doing dangerous?" Caradoc asked.
Lily nodded and tapped the fingers of her free hand against the table, wishing there was more she could say. But she wasn't going to reveal Remus' secret - and not just because James had warned her not to. She might have doubts about werewolves now, but that didn't mean she wanted to ruin Remus' life.
Caradoc gave her hand a slight squeeze.
She looked up at him and forced a smile. "Sorry. This isn't really how I expected the date to go."
Caradoc laughed softly and glanced around the restaurant. "That's alright," he assured her, "I don't mind. I wouldn't have asked what was wrong if I didn't want to know." He leaned forward again and kissed her quickly, chastely. "I really wish you would tell me more. I want to be able to help you."
Lily smiled genuinely at that. "I know. And I… thank you. But I can't. Really. I just… I need to figure this out on my own."
Caradoc nodded in acceptance of her words.
Lily chewed her lip. "I feel like all we ever do is talk about me and my thoughts and my feelings," she said after a moment. "I don't mean to monopolize so much of the conversation."
Caradoc laughed again. "I enjoy hearing about your thoughts and feelings." His expression clouded for a moment, then he said grimly, "Anyway, there isn't much in my life to talk about at the moment."
Lily recognized his expression, understood it for what it was. "Your brother?" she asked quietly.
He shrugged and looked away, slowly untangling his fingers from hers and settling his hands in his lap. "That's not going to change. He's not going to change."
Lily ran the tips of her fingers over the metal of her fork and wished she knew the appropriate response. For all her experience with difficult siblings, she was at a loss as to how to best comfort Caradoc about his. Petunia was annoying and often cruel, but she wasn't a drunk and she wasn't continually getting herself in trouble. She and Lily might no longer be friends - or even on speaking terms, really - but at least Lily didn't feel responsible for her. She could, and did, take care of herself.
Caradoc's situation was different, and Lily was selfishly happy that her relationship with Petunia wasn't anything like Caradoc's relationship with his brother.
"You're very responsible," Lily said finally.
Caradoc frowned, then replied, "I'm an adult now. I'm of age, so… I have to be responsible. It's the real world, and we all have to grow up eventually."
Once again, Peter was alone when Marcus Avery found him.
The stocky Slytherin gave a slow smirk and leaned casually against the wall as his gaze roamed over Mr. Pettigrew's shop. It wasn't crowded, and no one was standing close enough to Peter to see how nervous he was, or to notice how threatening Avery looked.
"It would really be a pity if this place went up in flames," Avery said slowly.
Peter stiffened. He wanted frantically to say something - anything - but couldn't think of the right words. Couldn't think of any words. James and Sirius were always better at this, at exchanging insults and quips and standing up to bullies. He was braver when they were there.
"So… are you going to help us, Pettigrew," Avery asked maliciously, "or are you going to stand there and watch your Daddy's shop burn?"
"I can't… I don't even… I don't even know what you want me to do," Peter protested, his voice coming out in stammered squeaks.
"Why did Potter get benched?" Avery asked, curling one meaty hand into a fist and then menacingly cracking his knuckles.
Peter was shaking. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to show weakness, knew Sirius would probably mock him for it, but courage had never been his strongest characteristic.
His eyes darted away. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I don't understand… what is benched?"
"Sidelined," Avery answered, rolling his eyes. "Pushed out of the game." Peter gave him an uncomprehending look, and he said derisively, "Snape was right, you really are the most idiotic of your little friends."
"I am not…" Peter started, but Avery ignored him.
"Potter was temporarily removed from the Wasps," Avery said, speaking slowly and enunciating each word as though he were talking to a child. Peter said nothing, and Avery shook his head and asked with a sneer, "Did he tell you that? Or did he decide there was no reason to confide in little Peter because the poor boy couldn't handle the truth that his friends aren't perfect?"
"Of course he told me!" Peter snapped angrily. His friends told him everything.
Avery smiled. "Good," he said, eyes filling with icy triumph. "Then I am sure he told you why. What did he do? Or did Shaw just finally come to his senses and realize that Potter is nothing more than a spoiled…"
"It is just temporary!" Peter interrupted, coming immediately to James' defense. How could Avery stand there and call James spoiled when he was the one who had marched in here and started making demands?
"That so?" Avery asked idly. "Why?"
"Wh-why do you care?" Peter asked shakily. "How do you even know?"
"A little birdy told me," Avery replied. "Now…" He glanced around the store once more, eyes pausing momentarily at the few patrons who were still ignoring them, then lowered his voice and said, "Bella's waiting outside, and she's quite eager to cause a bit of damage. So are you going to tell me what I want to know, or am I going to walk out there and tell her to start the fire?"
"I'll tell," Peter said valiantly. "If you do anything… I'll… I'll tell."
It was a pathetic response, and he knew it. But this shop meant everything to his father, and he couldn't let Bellatrix Lestrange destroy it. He couldn't stand by and do nothing while someone threatened his family.
But could he betray James' friendship?
Avery snorted. "This isn't school and you can't just run to a teacher when you're scared," he said dismissively, a hint of mocking in his tone. His gaze hardened as he added dangerously, "Do you really think threatening to tattle is going to frighten me?"
Peter dropped his gaze to the ground and wished, not for the first time, that James and Sirius were there. Or maybe, he reflected bitterly, he didn't want them here. Maybe he didn't want them to see how pathetic he was, how he couldn't stand up on his own, how he needed them to fight his battles for him.
Maybe he didn't want them to know that he was afraid.
Avery stepped closer, and Peter automatically backed away, but he was only a few steps from the wall and soon had his backed pressed against it and nowhere to go. His stomach flipped over and he shifted his weight nervously, fingers anxiously twisting at the fabric of his robes.
"This isn't a hard question, Pettigrew," Avery said, "and even you should have the brains needed to answer it." He leaned forward, invading Peter's space. "What did Potter do?"
"N-Nothing," Peter stammered. "He just… he just had a bad… a bad day and… and it was nothing."
Avery's eyes flicked towards the entrance to the shop. "Not the answer I was looking for," he said menacingly. "I'll just step outside for a moment, pay a little visit to Bellatrix…"
And he started for the door.
"Wait!" Peter practically shouted the word, desperation making his voice higher-pitched than usual. Several patrons looked at him in surprise, and he felt himself flushing slightly under the increased attention. But it didn't matter. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was making sure Avery didn't walk out that door.
"Wait," he said again, breathless. "Just… wait."
And Avery turned back to him with a smirk on his lips.
"Dad? What do you do when you go to the Ministry?"
If Charlus Potter was surprised by his son's question, it did not show on his features. He merely turned away from the fire and smiled at James, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. "I meet with the Minister or Department Heads, usually. Why?"
James shrugged and looked around the parlor, trying to put his thoughts into words. It wasn't easy to do, particularly with memories of his arguments with Remus and Vanessa continually invading his mind, but his father was patiently waiting for an answer, so he finally said, "You've never worked at the Ministry. How do you… influence… events there?"
Mr. Potter considered this for a long moment, then asked, "Why the sudden curiosity?"
"Well," James replied with a smile, "I have to think about my life after my Quidditch career is over, don't I?"
In truth, he was thinking about his first date with Vanessa and the conversation he had overhead in Diagon Alley. Malfoy had been so dismissive of his ability to intervene in society, to make a difference, and Snape had certainly echoed that sentiment.
Malfoy had also commented on Mr. Potter's age, and James hadn't given that much prior thought. His parents had been old when he was born, and they were old in his childhood and in his teenage years. To him, they had always been old, and it might have made them different from the Blacks or the Lupins or the Pettigrews, but it hadn't really mattered.
But now, when he actually studied his father, he saw things he had missed before. Mr. Potter's eyes, which had once been the same dark hazel of James' own, had faded to a softer gray. His skin was translucent and wrinkled, and his shoulders were slightly hunched. His age seemed to weigh on him, slowing him down and interfering in his life even if he never complained about it.
Like most children, James had never given much thought to the aging process or the fact that his parents would not be around forever. But one day it would be up to James to carry on the Potter legacy.
Mr. Potter folded his hands in his lap and looked at the flames dancing in the fireplace as he answered, "Money and prestige, James. That is all it takes to make a difference in the world."
James glanced at the fire as well. "That's not fair," he said quietly. Mr. Potter raised an eyebrow at him, and James cleared his throat and explained, "I was thinking about people like Remus… or Peter… or Lily and Mary… they don't have money or prestige but they're good people. Better than… than some others. Maybe even better than most."
"There are other ways of making a difference," Mr. Potter replied. "It just generally takes more effort." He paused thoughtfully, then said, "Are you interested in politics, James? You never have been before."
"Well, after Quidditch…" James started, but Mr. Potter waved away that answer with dismissive gesture of one hand.
"Surely you've realized by now that you will never actually need to work if you don't want to," the older wizard said.
It was James' turn to look surprised, and he asked a bit sharply, "Are you suggesting I spend my life loafing about?"
A smile tugged at the corners of Mr. Potter's lips, and he said, "Of course not. But since you've never been interested in politics before, I am curious as to why you are now. It's obviously more than just a desire to have a plan for after Quidditch."
"I've been interested in politics," James protested. "You know my views on the Dark Arts and pureblood prejudice."
Mr. Potter sighed. "Being against the Dark Arts is not the same as being involved in politics. It isn't enough to just say that you don't like those who practice that sort of magic." He leaned forward. "You are a Potter. That name will allow you to shape the world around you. It will allow you to change laws and regulations, to fight for or against social norms, to alter the lives of others. But you have to understand the full ramifications of what you are doing. And you have to know why you are doing it."
"Because I don't…"
"You don't like the Dark Arts, I know. But that is not my point. You have to know why you are using politics instead of… say… brute force."
James narrowed his eyes slightly, and thought of Hogwarts. He'd never used brute force there, but he certainly used force. All his pranks, all the things he did just for laughs… they relied on his magical abilities. His charm and popularity might have gotten him out of trouble on more than one occasion, but it was never those attributes that won duels.
"The world is not a simple place, James. You are not at Hogwarts any longer."
"Yeah," James said heavily. "I'm getting that."
"If you decide to follow in my footsteps, you must understand that you will no longer be fighting just for yourself. You will be fighting for other people, and sometimes you will be fighting battles that you know will cost you, battles from which you personally will gain nothing. But you will fight them anyway, because they are worth fighting."
Mr. Potter's expression became thoughtful, and his gaze moved away from James. His eyes were unfocused, and he was clearly thinking about something. James waited patiently to see what else his father had to say, but the older man did not appear to even remember that his son was in the room.
James ran a hand through his hair and thought back to his argument with Lily. Wolfsbane had been a battle that would cost her. She stood to gain nothing but the instructor's scorn. She might not even manage to succeed at the program, no matter how successful her project was.
But she had said that she was still willing to go through with it, and it was only her fear of giving aid and insistence to the truly Dark werewolves that had stopped her.
He knew it was more than just that fear, though he had no idea what else was holding her back. But she had been willing to sacrifice her own happiness for this, at least in theory.
Just like Remus was willing to sacrifice his own happiness, to allow himself to be treated like a monster, if it would prevent other people from getting hurt.
Mr. Potter cleared his throat and James turned his attention back to his father.
"There are many pureblood families that do not agree with us. As you grow older, James, they will exert an incredible amount of pressure on you. No matter what you do, they will not leave you alone. But if you try to involve yourself in the Ministry, the pressure will be even greater. Are you ready for that?"
James opened his mouth defiantly, prepared to declare that of course he was ready for it. But he paused, hesitating somewhat. This wasn't Hogwarts. He wasn't talking to a teacher or to one of his friends or even to one of his enemies. He was talking to his father, and he'd never had to defend his beliefs at home. He'd never had to pretend that he always had the answers.
So he tilted his head to the side and asked curiously, "Do you think I am ready for that?"
"Do you want to make a difference in the world?"
"Of course!" James replied, surprised by the question. Wasn't that the entire point of the conversation. "Why wouldn't I?"
Mr. Potter laughed, though his laughter sounded weary. "I was never good at Quidditch. I was only average at my studies. I was never particularly popular in school, and though I learned how to charm people, it never came as naturally to me as it does to you."
James grinned. "It worked well enough on Mum."
Mr. Potter returned the smile, but said in a serious tone, "My point is that there were less options open to me than there are to you. You can make the world a better place by being a teacher or a Healer or a barrister or professional Quidditch player."
James wrinkled his nose. He loved Quidditch, and he always would. But it was odd to hear his father talk about that profession with such… respect.
Mr. Potter must have seen the expression on James' face and interpreted it correctly, because he said, "Never underestimate how much people need to have games and sports in their lives. We all need fun, and we all need to be able to care passionately about even the more trivial matters. Such as which team wins the Cup."
James nodded.
"When I graduated from Hogwarts, I had only a few things going for me," Mr. Potter continued. "Your mother, of course. My last name and my money. And my need to fight back against the pureblood propaganda that was everywhere. I chose my path because your mother began working at the Ministry, and following her seemed like a good enough idea. But if you really want to fight pureblood prejudice and the Dark Arts, then I can only give you one piece of advice."
James perked up eagerly.
"Figure out what career will make you happy, and then figure out how to take that career and turn it into an opportunity to change the world."
James accepted this in silence. It was good advice, but it meant figuring out what would make him happy, and he wasn't really sure where to start on that. Quidditch, obviously. And his friends. And Lily… well, sometimes. But what else?
"You still haven't told me why you started thinking about this," Mr. Potter said pointedly.
James shrugged. He had no intention of burdening his father with the conversation he had heard in Knockturn Alley or with the knowledge of his arguments with Lily and Remus.
Instead, he said vaguely, "I had a few disagreements and… was angry about some things."
"Who were you angry at?" Mr. Potter asked.
James sighed heavily and didn't answer. He wouldn't have even known what to say, how to explain it all. He was angry at Lily for her words to Remus, and he was angry at Remus for his apparent decision to give up, and he was angry and Malfoy and Snape and Lestrange and whoever else was involved in their plans.
But mostly…
Mostly he was angry at himself. For putting Lily in danger - because he knew, absolutely knew even if he didn't want to admit it, that Remus was right; Lily could have been bitten or worse. And he was angry at himself for not being able to help Remus more. And for snapping at Vanessa and Prewitt and Shaw.
And for only just now realizing that maybe he hadn't grown up as much as he thought he had.
"One of my friends is an idiot."
Finding James Potter standing outside her door with a dozen white roses was not something Vanessa had expected to happen. Having him standing there looking abashed and unsure was even more of a surprise.
"I see," she said, eyeing the roses and wondering if his bewildering comment was the beginning of an apology. She wasn't sure yet if she was going to accept the apology. Could some roses really make up for the way he had treated her?
"Well, I suppose it is possible that all of my friends are idiots," James continued thoughtfully. "I certainly am."
Vanessa found a smile pulling at her lips despite her initial desire to stay angry at him.
"But it's really… this one friend in particular," James said. "He said some things that upset me. He has this… problem. It makes people think he is a monster. And now he apparently thinks it as well."
"Oh, you mean because he's a werewolf?" Vanessa asked.
James gaped at her.
She sighed. "I assume we're talking about Lupin?" James nodded slowly, and she said, "James, he had to register his status when he was first bitten. The Ministry knows he is a werewolf, and that bit of information isn't exactly secret. They might not advertise it, but it doesn't mean that they go out of their way to keep it hidden, either. Any reporter… any good reporter… can get that information without trouble."
"But… at Hogwarts…" James protested weakly.
"This isn't Hogwarts," Vanessa said flatly. "Dumbledore and the other teachers might have turned a blind eye to Lupin's condition, and certainly they would have been able to prevent knowledge of his status from being given to most of the students and their parents. But this isn't Hogwarts, and things are different. This secret won't stay a secret much longer."
"The Ministry just gives out this information?" James demanded, sounding both angry and disgusted.
Vanessa shook her head. "Not really. I had to charm Bridges a bit before he would give me anything, and he knew he was violating protocol when he did it. But everyone in that office has loose lips."
James accepted this in silence, and Vanessa felt just a little bit of pity for him. He truly wasn't ready for the real world. He clearly believed that he could protect his friends out here the same way he had at Hogwarts, but nothing was ever going to be that simple. Not anymore.
"You were investigating Remus?" James asked finally.
Vanessa shook her head. "No, I was investigating you and Black. I stumbled across Lupin mostly by accident." She ran a hand through her hair and, off James' questioning look, explained, "It was after out date in Knockturn Alley. I was looking for some more clues as to what exactly Malfoy, Lestrange, and Snape were planning. I… uh…" She paused, trailing off uncomfortably. She hadn't really ever planned on having this particular conversation with James, but now that the topic was here, she couldn't really avoid it.
"You what?"
"I heard what Malfoy said about werewolves, and how you reacted to it. So I decided to see if you knew any werewolves. That's why I went to the Ministry. That's why I checked the registry. That's how I found Lupin."
"Why didn't you just ask me?" James demanded, hurt flickering through his eyes.
Vanessa laughed. "Would you have answered honestly if I did?" James didn't reply, probably because he knew he couldn't answer in the affirmative, and Vanessa nodded to the roses he was still holding. "Are those for me?"
"Oh. Yeah." He shoved them at her. "I was coming over to apologize to you for what I said after practice. I don't think that you're only dating me for the stories." He cleared his throat, then met her gaze and asked flatly, "Are you?"
"James…"
"You investigated me behind my back and then lied to my face about it," James said pointedly.
Vanessa took the flowers. "Yeah, I did. And I'm sorry." She frowned for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain why she had done the things she had done. James had every reason to be suspicious of her motives since she hadn't trusted him enough to tell him what she was doing.
But she truly wasn't using him.
"I can charm a scandal out of pretty much any wizard, and with those stories, I can sell newspapers to pretty much anyone," she said at last. "But when we were in Knockturn Alley, and afterwards when we were trying to figure out what those three wizards were planning… I felt like I was doing something… useful. I'm good at reporting. I'm good at flirting. I'm good at manipulating people. And I enjoy doing all of it. So this seemed like a good way to put those talents to work."
James stared at her, then murmured, "Figure out what career will make you happy, and then figure out how to take that career and turn it into an opportunity to change the world."
She blinked. "What?"
"Nothing," James said with a smile and a slight shake of his head. He cleared his throat again, then asked, "So what clues did you uncover in your charming and flirting and manipulating?"
Vanessa grinned, then stepped away from the door. "Why don't you come in? I'll put the flowers in a vase, you can tell me why Lupin thinks he is a monster and what you plan to do about it, and I can tell you about what I found."
James nodded in agreement, and followed her inside.