"Potter! I want you to start at our next game," Shaw said.
James stared at him blankly. "Start what?" he asked, inwardly preparing for whatever irate remarks Shaw was going to toss his way. The team captain still had not let go of his anger towards James, and that had made the past several days uncomfortable at best.
Daphne Dumare and Ludo Bagman both burst into laughter at James' question. James tore his gaze away from Shaw and stared at them, nonplussed. Had he missed out on some private joke? Were they all mocking him?
It wouldn't have surprised him, he thought bitterly. Shaw had been treating him unfairly all because of that article, and even if Daphne had explained it all, and even if James could at least somewhat understand Shaw's point of view, it still wasn't fair.
Shaw raised his eyebrows at James. "The match," he said slowly, enunciating each word carefully as though he was talking to a child, "I want you to start on the pitch at our next match."
"But… I'm a reserve Chaser," James protested in bewilderment.
"Wilkinson is out because his sister is getting married that day," Shaw huffed, and James knew the captain was irritated that Jimmy's sister hadn't rearranged her wedding once it became clear that it would conflict with a Quidditch match. Quidditch mattered to him more than almost anything else, and he sometimes lost sight of his priorities.
James made a mental note not to let himself become so obsessed with Quidditch that he would feel annoyance over a teammate's family event.
Then Shaw's words finally registered with him, and his jaw dropped in disbelief.
"And you want me to play in Jimmy's place," he said.
"Yes," Shaw answered, and now he seemed torn between irritation and amusement at James' bafflement. "That is why we have reserve Chasers, Potter. So that the reserve can play when one of the starting Chasters can't make a match."
He did not bother to wait for James' response, but instead turned away and, carrying his broom in one hand and his cloak in the other, started walking towards the changing room.
Bagman clapped James on the shoulder. "You'll do great, Potter," he said jovially. "Just don't make a fool of yourself, or Shaw won't give you another chance." James blanched, and Bagman laughed. Then he followed Shaw off the pitch.
Daphne watched the two of them leave, then gave James a warm smile. "It looks like he's not mad at you anymore," she said. "I told you that you just needed to give it some time."
James grinned.
The Lestrange estate was comprised of a black marble and stone manor on several acres of sprawling woods. It was Unplottable, and the dense forests that surrounded the manor prevented those arriving by the Floo Network or Apparition from having any idea where they were. The Lestranges valued their privacy, and the secrecy and mystery that surround their home only added to their reputation of mystique.
Sewelyn Lestrange was a beautiful and aristocratic witch from Croatia. Her family had been improvised, but her blood had been purer than even the Lestrange family, and her marriage to Lysander had been considered a prudent match. With the Lestrange fortune, she had quickly pulled her family out of poverty and they were now firmly entrenched in Croatian politics. The ties between the two families had benefited both, and as a result, Sewelyn was widely respected for her cunning and business savvy.
She had not attended Hogwarts, but there was little doubt she would have been Sorted into Slytherin if she had.
She stood in the entrance way to the parlor, watching as Rabastan, Rodolphus, Bellatrix, Lucius Malfoy, and two men that she did not recognize sat around a table, speaking in hushed whispers. Rodolphus looked annoyed - he and his brother were arguing. Malfoy was calmer, but Sewelyn had never actually seen him rattled and was unsure as to whether he ever showed that emotion. One of the men Sewelyn did not recognize was watching the conversation with a calculating expression. The other looked bored.
Sewelyn drew back, out of sight. She leaned against the corridor wall, straining to hear the conversation. Eavesdropping was not becoming of a witch of her status, but she was rather curious as to why her sons were quarreling.
"…are a fool. Nothing good could come from this. She's Potter's, completely." That was Rodolphus.
"Perhaps," came Rabastan's response. He sounded upset - angry. Defensive. "But he isn't hers. Don't underestimate the wrath of a woman scorned."
Rodolphus had a sharp mind and an even sharper wit. He did not have the silver tongue his mother possessed, nor had he inherited her skills at flattery. But where Sewelyn could succeed with sweet talk, Rodolphus could succeed with intimidation. Sewelyn found it distasteful, but even she had to recognize that it had its uses.
Rabastan did not have a sharp mind. Rodolphus had done well in school, becoming a prefect and later Head Boy; Rabastan had spent most of his time in detention. Rodolophus had received Exceeds Expectations or higher on every OWL and NEWT he took; Rabastan had barely scraped by.
But Rodolphus did not understand women. Rabastan didn't either - Sewelyn wasn't even sure her younger son was interested in women. But this was one area where Rodolphus did not surpass his brother. Both were hopeless when it came to understanding the fairer sex.
Rodolphus had only ever had eyes for Bellatrix. They'd met at Hogwarts, and he'd been enamored of her from the very start. His letters home had been filled with tales of the Black girl, and while Lysander had dismissed them as a passing phase, Sewelyn had seen them for what they really were: an obsession.
Bellatrix Lestrange née Black seemed to have some affection for her husband, even if she did not return his utter adoration. But there was a wildness to Bellatrix that Sewelyn did not like, did not trust. There was a passionate light that would burn in her eyes when she spoke of her pureblood fanaticism, and her voice would shake with fierce emotion. She had no understanding of subtlety, no appreciation for the delicacy and intricacies of politics.
Rodolphus could not see this. He was blind to her faults, and Sewelyn did not like to consider the possibility that her daughter-in-law would drag Rodolphus down with her as she spiraled into insanity.
Sewelyn pushed away these dismal thoughts and focused her attention back on the conversation between the five young people in her parlor.
"…too wrapped up in your own desire to cause pain and havoc…" Rodolphus was growling.
"The Potters need to be knocked down," Rabastan interrupted, seething. "We should be striking at James Potter in any way we can."
"There is too much at stake, Rabastan," came Lucius Malfoy's drawling response. "We cannot jeopardize our fathers' joint legislation by engaging in personal vendettas."
"Hah! You're one to talk, Lucius," Rabastan snarled. "Or do you really expect us to believe that you targeting Black isn't personal?"
"That is different," Malfoy said stiffly. "I'm trying to protect my family name."
"And I'm trying to get at Potter in any way I can," Rabastan snapped back. "This is hardly a personal vendetta. Unlike some people here, I have no personal grievance against the blood traitor."
"I may not like Potter," a voice said, and Sewelyn was sure it was one of the two men she didn't know, "but I at least have enough common sense not to approach Vanessa Lovely. She cannot be trusted. Do you really think you can manipulate her?"
"I thought you'd support this, Snape," Rabastan said, his voice filled with mocking laughter. "After all, I'm trying to get Potter to drop his obsession with Evans." There was a pause, then, "Oh, don't look at me with such a surprise, Snape. It's no secret that you still fancy the Mudblood. Or would you prefer to see her blissfully happy in Potter's arms?"
There was no response from the man named Snape.
"What's the matter, Snape? Kneazle got your tongue?" Rabastan mocked.
"I don't see why she needs to be a target," Snape said beseechingly. "Potter is the one we want to destroy, not her."
"She's a Mudblood, she's not worth…"
"Lily Evans is irrelevant," Malfoy interrupted Rabastan's response. "She is a means to an end only. She has provided us an opportunity to get to Potter, and we are not going to dismiss that just because you fancy her."
"What did you say to Lovely, Rabastan?" Rodolphus asked. His tone was strained; he was clearly trying to regain control of the situation.
"That she came in second, that Potter would always be enamored of Evans."
"Pathetic," Bellatrix murmured. "The Potters have always been blood traitors, but that he could stoop so low…"
"I agree," Rodolphus said, and Sewelyn could perfectly envision him giving Bellatrix that look of reverence that he only ever bestowed on his wife.
"What else did you say to Lovely?" Malfoy asked.
"That I could help her get Evans out of the picture. She seemed interested." Rabastan laughed roughly. "Eager, too. She likes him quite a bit. Pity he doesn't feel the same - I could at least approve of a match between those two."
"Better than one with Evans," Malfoy agreed quietly. "What did you tell her you would do to get between Evans and Potter?"
"I didn't give her any details. Just told her I could cause some problems for them, and in return, she had to do something for me. She wanted proof first. Results. I told her we should meet again tomorrow - I'd have proof by then."
"Who are you going to get it from? Our little rat?" the fifth man asked.
"Why not? Pettigrew has proven useful, Avery, and I am sure you and Bella could convince him to help us some more."
"Perhaps," Malfoy agreed. "However, I think it would be best if I were the one to speak to Miss Lovely."
Sewelyn decided she had heard enough, and moved away from the room. She walked through the hallway towards the grand staircase that led to the second floor, deep in her own thoughts.
They were fractured. All five of them wanted the same thing - Lysander's legislation passed and the Potters' reputation ruined. But they were arguing amongst each other, unable to agree on a path. They were young, foolish, overly eager.
But it wasn't just a problem with them. Even Lysander and Abraxas had their disagreements, and both of them had argued fiercely with Ignatius Prewitt and Cygnus and Druella Black.
They had no leader, no one who could take all the different viewpoints and create a clear and coherent plan. There was no one to make the final decisions, no one to pull together such diverse people and unite them by their underlying beliefs in pureblood supremacy.
Even in her own family, this particular talent was missing. Lysander had the political brilliance, but not the driving passion and stubbornness necessary to be that sort of leader. Rodolphus had the intelligence and determination, but not the subtlety. Bellatrix had the fire and the passion, but not the ability to inspire devotion or loyalty. And Rabastan… well, he didn't have much of anything.
She sighed. All these ideas, all these plans, all these hopes and dreams, and all of it would go to waste if they couldn't form a cohesive group.
Of all the things Lily had expected when she opened the door of her flat, it was not to see Severus standing there.
"Lily," he said. His voice was soft, gentle, and there was an undercurrent of something - pleading, maybe. Had she never noticed the way he said her name, almost like it was a prayer?
"Severus," she replied, nearly choking on the name. "What do you want?"
"I need to talk to you - please," he said.
"About what?" she asked coolly, refusing to step aside from the doorway and give him entrance to her flat. If he had something to say, he'd have to say it here.
Severus glanced behind him worriedly, almost as though he thought he was being followed or watched. Lily pursed her lips - she'd seen that nervous look before. It had been most prominent during their fifth year, when the friendship had finally come undone. It was the look he wore every time he worried that one of his Slytherin friends would see them talking and laughing together.
He was still embarrassed to be around her.
Lily flushed, opening her mouth to tell him off, but Severus abruptly started speaking.
"Lucius Malfoy is going after you because you are friends with Potter," he said, his words coming out in a rush. His dark eyes narrowed as he uttered James' name with something akin to disgust.
"I know that," Lily said calmly.
"No - no, you don't understand," Severus argued. "That's all, that's the only reason. If you were to stop being friends with Potter, he would stop going after you."
"That's not the only reason," Lily snapped. "I'm a Mudblood, remember? And we both know what Malfoy and the rest of you think of Mudbloods."
"No, no… you're not…" Severus started, his words filled with raw desperation, but then stopped. He shook his head and regained control over his emotions. In a calmer tone, he said, "If you weren't friends with Potter, Lucius wouldn't go after you. I know he wouldn't, Lily. He only cares about Potter and…"
"And what?" Lily asked hotly, temper flaring. "You want me to selfishly ignore Potter so that I can save myself? Or do I need to actually support Malfoy's disgusting legislation to earn their respect?"
She didn't even know why she was so incensed by Severus' words. She was still angry at James for all the problems he had unknowingly caused, and wanted little to do with him. But at least she was able to admit that he hadn't done it intentionally, that he had been trying to help her - and Remus, too. What kind of person would she be if she threw him to the wolves to save herself?
Severus flushed. "They're going to win, Lily. Don't you see that? Abraxas Malfoy, Lysander Lestrange, Ignatius Prewitt… all of them. They're going to win, and Potter can't stop that. No one can stop that. This is what the people want - this is the future of the Ministry. You're on the wrong side, but if you'd just join us…"
Lily curled her lip disdainfully. "And if they do win? Do you really think they'll ever accept me?"
"Yes. Yes! They'll see that you're different, you're…"
"Different?" Lily cut him off, enraged. "Different from what, Severus? Different from all the other Mudbloods who deserve this discrimination? Different from Mary?" She shook her head furiously. "Abraxas Malfoy wants to ban Muggleborns from ever working in the Ministry. The next thing you know, we'll have our wands confiscated and be rounded up and carted off to prison camps."
"Don't be ridiculous," Severus said. "That's not going to happen."
"Merlin, Severus, open your eyes!" Lily retorted angrily. "That's exactly what they want. And maybe it won't happen. Maybe they'll go for something more subtle. But your buddies will always think of me as filth, and they'll come after me regardless of whether or not I am friends with Potter."
"I can protect you," Severus said desperately. "Lily, please… I can keep you safe. But you have to stop being friends with Potter. You have to."
Lily stared Severus straight in the eye and said flatly, "No."
Severus seemed surprised at her emphatic refusal - and she was surprised as well. The word had slipped from her lips without any conscious thought on her part. She hadn't even had a chance to think over the implications of what Severus was asking her to do - pick a side, pick him or James.
But whether she had thought it through or not, she had made the choice. She'd chosen James.
Severus looked crestfallen. "Lily… Lily, I… please…" He was struggling, apparently unable to come up with the right way to express his meaning. There was something more he wanted to say, but the words just wouldn't come, and he finally he blurted out, "Potter will drag you down with him. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anyone other than himself."
"That," Lily said firmly, "is not true."
"It is!" Severus cried. "Why can't you see that? Remember what you used to call him? Remember when you thought he was an arrogant toerag? He hasn't changed, he's just tricked you into thinking that he has."
But that wasn't true, either. James had changed. Lily might not always like the way he went about doing things, but she had to at least admit that he wasn't the same person he'd been at Hogwarts.
But none of them were the same people they'd been just a few short months ago. The real world had changed all that. The stakes were higher here, and actions had real consequences and repercussions beyond a bad mark or a detention, and everyone's true colors were slowly starting to show.
"People change, Severus," she said softly. "You certainly did."
James had changed for the better, but Severus…
She sighed, shook her head, feeling suddenly drained.
"James is a good person, and we're on the same side of this fight," Lily said. "But you aren't on our side."
Severus looked as though he couldn't believe she had said that. His entire body seemed to sag under the weight of her words, and his face crumbled into a look of grief and horror.
"You're wrong," he declared hoarsely. "You're wrong about Potter - about all of them. And I am on your side, Lily. I am, I am. I'm trying to help you…"
"Help me?" Lily scoffed. "By supporting legislation that discriminates against people like me?" She reached over to the door and started to swing it shut, intent on ending the conversation.
"No, you don't understand. You don't get it!" Severus cried, his eyes wild, his voice filled with panic. He grabbed the door, forcing it back open.
"You're the one who doesn't get it, Severus," Lily said gently. "You think you can hate all Muggleborns and then tell me that I am different, but it doesn't work that way. Either you hate all of us or you accept that none of us are filth. You can't have it both ways."
And she tried to close the door again.
Severus wrenched it out of her grasp and took a step closer to her. She felt a thrill of fear run down her spine but quickly pushed it away. There was nothing to be afraid of - she might not like Severus' current belief system and she might despise his friends, but he wouldn't intentionally physically hurt her.
"Vanessa Lovely wants you out of the way," Severus said.
"Potter's girlfriend?" Lily asked, completely bewildered by the change in conversation. "What are you talking about?"
"She's talking to Lucius about it today," Severus continued urgently. "They'll come after you. Both of them. Because of Potter - all of this is because of Potter." His expression twisted into an ugly sneer as he spat, "He doesn't deserve your loyalty. He doesn't care about you, he's not lifting a finger to help you." Then the sneer was gone, replaced by an earnestness, a frankness, that Lily had not seen on his face since they were both children, and he said, "But I am, Lily. I am here, asking - begging - you to let me help."
"By telling me to break off my friendships and turn my back on everything I believe in?" Lily asked bluntly. "James, Remus… Mary, too, because I doubt any of you would be thrilled if I spent time with a Mudblood…" She shook her head. "No, Severus. This isn't the kind of help that I want."
"You are not Rabastan Lestrange," Vanessa said flatly as Lucius Malfoy slid into the seat opposite her at the teashop.
"Well spotted, Miss Lovely," Malfoy said with a smirk. "I see your powers of perception are keen as ever." He glanced around with pursed lips. "I'm surprised you managed to convince Rabastan to meet you here. This is not exactly his… ah… typical hangout."
"No," Vanessa said, "I suppose it isn't."
Malfoy looked back at her thoughtfully. "You know, you've changed since I last saw you."
"You mean since Hogwarts?" Vanessa said, feigning ignorance. "We've all changed since then, Mr. Malfoy."
Malfoy lifted an eyebrow. "You know what I mean," he said pointedly, his eyes running along the length of her body before settling once more on her face.
"I'm surprised you even remember me from Hogwarts," Vanessa commented, curling her fingers around her ridiculously decorative cup of tea.
"I was a prefect," Malfoy replied. "It was my job to know everyone in my House - even the younger students."
"But prefects usually only know the ones who are either extremely talented at magic or incorrigible troublemakers. I was neither." She leaned forward. "Why did you come here? And where is Lestrange?"
Malfoy didn't answer the question. Instead, he looked down at her teacup. The handle was in the shape of a swan, it's long neck arcing to form a curve, it's beak pressed against the rim of the cup. The tea inside was a concoction of sickly sweet flavors - even the name was something absurd - Passionate Peach Party.
"I would not have assumed you were the frivolous type," Malfoy commented.
Vanessa laughed lightly. "You don't know me very well," she replied.
"Hm… but perhaps I do. Perhaps you chose this particular shop as a meeting place because you wanted to see if Rabastan would actually show up. It was a test - you wanted to know if he was serious enough about his offer to venture into a place like this."
Vanessa took a sip of the tea. It was cloyingly sweet. "Perhaps," she said.
"Quite the Slytherin," Malfoy remarked.
"Yes," Vanessa said firmly, "I am."
"Tell me," Malfoy said, "what brought about your change in appearance? The girl I remember from Hogwarts was gawky and awkward and had never even heard of cosmetics."
"That girl grew up," Vanessa replied. She leaned forward and rested her fingers lightly on his arm. "Why are you so interested in my appearance?"
Malfoy glanced down at her fingers but did not pull his arm away. Instead, he gave her a sly smile and said, "Curiosity, I suppose."
"It was a means to an end," Vanessa said.
"As are most things in life," Malfoy replied.
Vanessa smiled as she let her mind wander back to the beginning of her seventh year at Hogwarts. Although she had been - as Malfoy put it - gawky and awkward at Hogwarts, she had always been bright and perceptive. She'd been blessed with some innate understanding of the way people thought, and six years in Slytherin had made her cunning and ambitious as well. She had just never quite figured out how to put all those traits together to come up with any particular talent. She had no idea what she wanted to do with her life after she left school, and no idea where to start looking for career opportunities.
Then, during the October of her seventh year, her best friend Dalia had confided to Vanessa that she was afraid her boyfriend was cheating on her. The boyfriend in question - Vincent Savage - had been the Seeker for the Slytherin team, and was widely regarded as the best Seeker - and possibly the best Quidditch player - Hogwarts had seen in years. And Vincent had foolishly believed that his talent on the Quidditch pitch meant he was untouchable.
Vanessa had been enraged. Dalia had been her best friend for six years and no one - not even a great Quidditch player like Vincent - hurt Dalia and got away with it.
In retaliation, Vanessa had found Vincent, charmed him until he spilled several secrets he likely did not want the entire student body to know, and then whispered them to a few key people who she knew had never been able to keep their mouths shut.
The gossip had spread like wildfire through the school.
Dalia had laughed for days.
Then she had asked Vanessa how she had gotten the information out of Vincent, and the auburn-haired witch hadn't been able to explain it. The most she could say was that she had charmed Vincent, tricking him into believing that she could be trusted. She had acted on an instinctual level, following her gut every time it told her to do or say something, or to laugh in just the right way, or to bat her eyes and smile.
Dalia had declared it a sign - Vanessa was destined to be a detective.
Vanessa had thought that sounded boring, but her residual anger at Vincent for how he had treated Dalia - and for the fact that he honestly believed he could get away with it because he was a Quidditch player - had suggested a different career path for her, and that was the day she had decided to become a Quidditch reporter.
It was also the day that Dalia had decided Vanessa should put more effort into her appearance because being beautiful would only add to her ability to charm information out of people. And Vanessa had taken that advice and put all of her effort and energy into changing her appearance. There had been enough pretty, vapid, and shallow girls in Slytherin to help her learn how to use makeup and take care of her hair and dress properly, and she had soon discovered that even grace and poise were things that could be learned with the right effort and incentive.
She was a Slytherin, through and through, and her appearance had always only been a means to an end.
"You seem nostalgic," Malfoy said, breaking into her thoughts. "Thinking of Hogwarts?"
Vanessa withdrew her hand from his arm and leaned back in her seat. "I was," she replied. "You still have not told me why you are here, Mr. Malfoy."
"Please, call me Lucius," Malfoy replied gallantly. "And may I call you Vanessa?"
"I suppose," Vanessa said. "Assuming Mrs. Malfoy does not mind the informality."
Malfoy actually laughed outright. "I assure you, Vanessa, that Cissy does not mind at all. She knows she can trust me - I only have eyes for her."
"Well, then I certainly would prefer interacting with you to interacting with Lestrange," Vanessa replied, taking another sip of tea and watching Malfoy over the edge of the cup.
Malfoy frowned. "Rabastan's tastes must have improved if he is showing an interest in you," he said. "Usually he isn't so… discriminating. Previously, his only requirement was that the person in question be alive. Whether said person fancies him or not."
Vanessa raised her eyebrows, suddenly extraordinarily thankful that she was dealing with Malfoy instead of Lestrange.
"Rabastan thinks you can be trusted," Malfoy continued. "I am not so sure."
"I assume the article James and I wrote is still bothering you?" Vanessa asked lightly. She saw the look of pure fury flash through Malfoy's face, so quickly that she almost missed it. She was on thin ice here, and had to tread carefully.
When the blonde wizard spoke, however, his tone was light, almost amused. "Well, it was a rather unfortunate event. I don't suppose you've changed your viewpoint?"
"No," Vanessa replied, unapologetic. There was no point lying, Malfoy already knew where she stood on this issue and was unlikely to believe that she had changed her mind so quickly.
"Pity," Malfoy drawled. "And you will not change your opinion, Vanessa, even though you are no longer Potter's first priority?"
"Well, now let's be honest, Lucius," Vanessa answered, her eyes darkening, "I was never James' first priority."
"And yet you still want him," Malfoy remarked, his tone filled with curiosity. He sighed and gave her a sympathetic smile. "There is nothing quite so sad as loving someone who does not love you back."
"I never realized you were quite so… poetic," Vanessa commented dryly. Malfoy merely smiled, and Vanessa leaned forward and said intently, "Lily Evans shows no love for James, and yet she is still the first thought on his mind. Rabastan offered to help me. Are you here to keep his deal or not?"
"If I help you, you and Potter will continue to fight me in the future," Malfoy replied.
"Yes," Vanessa said simply. "We can consider this a trade - you help me once, I will help you once. Then we will both go back to our respective sides of the battle."
"And when Potter grows tired of you or suddenly realizes that his pathetic Gryffindor ideals prevent him from going steady with a Slytherin?"
The corners of Vanessa's lips turned up into the smallest of smiles. "That won't happen," she said confidently. "If you can remove Evans from the picture, I can take care of everything else." She took another sip of her tea, locking gazes with Malfoy as she did so. She placed the cup down and added, "Trust me. I am quite good at keeping a wizard's attention."
"Except when Lily Evans is involved," Malfoy said.
Vanessa flushed. "Except then," she admitted slowly. There was a silence, then she said, "Lestrange was going to bring me proof that you could get Evans out of the picture."
Malfoy rose to his feet, and Vanessa quickly followed suit, instinctively not wanting to give him a height advantage. "I'm still not sure that I trust you, Vanessa, but I am certainly intrigued," he said. "If I decide to help you, I will be in touch. And I'll bring proof."
"Don't wait too long," Vanessa said softly. "I'm not a patient person, and if you won't help me, I'm sure I can find someone else who will."
Potter Family Interferes in Ministry Appointment
Pazia Grimaldi, often considered to be one of the most disastrous Heads of the Department of International Magical Cooperation the Ministry has ever experienced, admitted on Tuesday that her appointment had been a result of Charlus Potter's manipulations. She was forced to resign two years ago after a mishap involving the French Minister nearly destroyed all ties between these two countries. At the time, her inexperience in diplomacy was cited as a cause - now it has come to light that even she knew she wasn't qualified for the position.
"Charlus [Potter] asked me to accept the appointment," explained Mrs. Grimaldi. "Well, he didn't really ask. He has this way of asking that is… oh, blast it, its hard to explain. He pretends like you have a choice, but he's a Potter and he always gets his way.
"
As for why Potter would be interested in having Mrs. Grimaldi as the department Head - "Well, that's hardly a surprise, is it?" states one senior Ministry official who requested to remain anonymous due to fear of Potter's retribution. "Grimaldi is completely under his thumb, and he put her in a position to make sure all of his international business deals went through. He didn't get held up by little things like taxes or tariffs or regulations."
The knock at the door of her flat prevented Lily from reading any more, but she didn't mind. The first few paragraphs were already making her stomach turn. How could anyone believe this obvious trash?
She got up from the sofa, tossing the Daily Prophet aside.
Mary, who was drinking a cup of tea and perusing the pages of Witch Weekly for interesting gossip, looked up as well. "Are you expecting anyone?" she asked curiously.
"No," Lily replied. It had been another long and grueling day in the program, and she really didn't want visitors. Since her meeting with Healer Akhlys she had on multiple occasions considered dropping out, but just hadn't managed to make up her mind yet. She was too stubborn, and despite knowing that her dreams had died and she was now just wasting her time, giving up felt like quitting, and she was not a quitter.
On the other hand, news of the content of that meeting had traveled quickly, and Eliza Greengrass had taken great pleasure in mocking Lily for it. The redhead wasn't sure how much more of that she could take.
She pulled open the door and found James standing there, next to a wizard she did not recognize. The stranger was tall, with bright blue eyes that seemed to protrude unnaturally from his head and dark gray hair that tufted in such chaos it made James' own locks look neatly combed by comparison.
"Potter," Lily said tiredly, "I'm really not in the mood to talk to you. Or argue, or whatever it is we're going to do." Although the conversation with Severus had at least finally convinced her that she not only considered James a friend but she still wanted to keep his friendship, despite everything, she didn't have the energy for another confrontation.
And the problem was that all conversations with James - whether arguments or bland conversations about the weather - required energy.
"You don't need to talk," James replied. "You just need to listen. Five minutes, Evans. Give me five minutes."
Lily raised an eyebrow. "And then you'll go away?" she asked.
James nodded. "I'll leave you alone for the rest of your life, if that's what you want," he said.
"That isn't what I want," Lily admitted. James looked surprised, and she hurried on, "I just… I'm tired, Potter. It's been a long day and I still haven't had a chance to… to come to terms with all of my dreams ending…" She trailed off, horrified by the lump forming in her throat and the burning sensation of tears in her eyes.
She would not cry.
"Five minutes," James said again.
She nodded. "Fine," she said, and stepped aside to allow him and his companion into her flat.
"Hello, Mary," James said as he stepped around Lily.
Mary smiled at him. "Hi, James," she replied. "I'll just… give you and Lily some privacy." And she slipped out of the room, taking her tea and the Witch Weekly with her. She paused in the doorway just long enough to give Lily a searching look, and then left.
Lily knew what Mary wanted to say - it was time to forgive James for the consequences of his actions, apologize for her own unnecessary anger, and move on.
"You have a very nice flat, Miss Evans," the strange man said.
"Uh… thank you?" Lily replied.
"The young Mr. Potter thought I'd be interested in meeting you," the man said. He glanced at James. "It's not every day someone shows up at your home and offers to pay you handsomely to come talk to a pretty girl."
Lily had no idea what to make of that statement, so she settled for glaring at James. "You paid him?" she asked. Given how much of their current disagreement settled around James using his money to get what he wanted, she couldn't believe he would do something like this now.
"Well, it was more like he offered to fund some of my research," the wizard continued. "Not that I need the funding, mind you. I do perfectly well on my own." He glanced sternly at James, determined to make this point clear.
James nodded in agreement.
"But I was rather impressed by his resourcefulness in finding me," the stranger said. "I make a point of keeping out of the public eye. My address isn't registered at the Ministry and I don't think I've had a photograph of myself taken in years… it's good, too. I'd rather pretend I'm younger than I am. I don't even like looking in the mirror. I can never figure out who that old man is staring back at me."
"I don't even know who you are," Lily said flatly. She was starting to think granting James those five minutes had been a bad idea.
The other wizard ignored her. "Of course, I also felt some sympathy for Potter. I know what it is like to be at the wrong end of a political battle." He gave a wry grin, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening, and said, "But the important thing is to make the best of a bad situation. That's what I did."
Lily shot a bewildered look at James.
"It's really a fascinating story," James said to his companion, giving Lily a wink. "You should tell Lily about it."
"Hmph," the man said sourly. "I try not to even think about it. Bloody Healers."
"You don't like Healers?" Lily asked, curious despite herself.
"I used to be one," the man replied. "A few decades ago. That was at the height of the war, of course, before Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. Grindelwald believed that magic made us better than Muggles, you know. Wanted to practically enslave them all. Complete nutter, that one."
"I… see…" Lily said. The man kept speaking in tangents, throwing in bits of information that couldn't possibly be relevant to whatever point he was trying to make.
"He didn't come to England. They say he was afraid of Dumbledore, and for good reason, I suppose, since Dumbledore defeated him." The man stopped and turned his protruding eyes to James. "Where was I?"
"You were explaining why you don't like Healers," James replied.
"Oh, but that has nothing to do with Grindelwald," the stranger said blankly. "I wonder why I was talking about that. Hm…"
The man was insane. There was really no other explanation for it. He was a complete lunatic, continually rambling on about extraneous things.
Lily looked at James. "You're running out of time," she stated flatly.
James just smiled at her.
The strange wizard's voice took on a nostalgic quality as he said, "I dated this girl for a while, but her father didn't approve. He was the Head of St. Mungo's, and didn't think his daughter should be involved with a… ah, what did he call me? A mediocre Healer with no hope of success." The man laughed. "I was, too. Quite mediocre. I went into Healing because I was good at it, but not because I had any real passion for the profession. I just didn't care, and it showed. I never would have advanced." His gaze softened and he seemed to be remembering something. "The girl told her father she didn't care, she was going to marry me one day. We were in love."
"I know what that's like," James said quietly, giving Lily a piercing stare.
Lily quirked an eyebrow at him. "Thinking of Vanessa?" she asked pointedly, a reminder that he had a girlfriend, and he at least had the decency to blush.
The strange wizard apparently missed the side conversation, or perhaps just didn't care about the saga that was James' turbulent relationship with Lily. He had his own story to tell.
"There wasn't much her father could do. He could have cut off her inheritance, I suppose, but I think he knew that she wouldn't care. She'd have rather been poor but with me than wealthy and on her own. And besides… well, she was still his daughter and he couldn't bring himself to do anything to her." His voice hardened. "But me… he had no problem coming after me."
For a moment, he looked absolutely furious. Then he sighed and shook his head, seemingly abruptly much older.
"He transferred me to a locked ward at St. Mungo's. Left me as the soul Healer in charge every full moon when they brought the monsters in." The stranger shook his head. "I watched as those poor, wretched souls tore themselves to pieces, and then I handed them off to other Healers who denied them pain potions and mocked them for their perceived weakness. I scrubbed the blood out of their hospital rooms - their cells. Once a month, those animalistic howls of pain tore through me as I stood there, helpless to do anything."
There was an oddly fanatical light in his eyes now, and his voice had risen in volume. It was enough to attract the attention of Mary, who had come out of her room and was hovering in the hallway, listening in silent awe.
"My soon-to-be father in law had intended to wear me down, make me give up, make me give in to his demands. He offered to let me transfer to a different ward if I just called things off with his daughter. But he didn't understand what the had given me… passion. For the first time in all of my schooling, both at Hogwarts and St. Mungo's, I had found something I cared about." He laughed. "Oh, the irony. He wanted to wear me down because he didn't think I was successful enough to woo his daughter, but instead, he gave me the motivation I needed to become the kind of person he did think was good enough." He paused, then sighed. "Not that it helped."
"What do you mean?" Mary asked breathlessly. "Didn't he let you marry his daughter? Now that you were good enough?"
Lily smirked at her friend. Mary was quite a romantic, and apparently the story intrigued her enough to forget her earlier intent of offering James and Lily some privacy.
"I am sure he wouldn't have minded... but she did," the man said. "I quit my job as a Healer, you see, and threw myself into potions. I spent all my time on research, and not enough of it on her. She grew tired of waiting around for me to remember that I loved her, and eventually she married someone else."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Lily said quietly. "But you still haven't told me who you are."
"Oh, haven't I?" the man said, sounding surprised. "Well, why didn't you say something earlier, Miss Evans?" He held out his hand. "I'm Damocles Belby." Lily's jaw dropped as she numbly shook his hand, and he continued, "And Mr. Potter here thinks I should be looking for an apprentice."