She didn't want to care. It had only been a few weeks, after all. A couple months - a summer fling. What did it matter if she and James had split? She was young - and stunningly beautiful. She would find someone else. Someone better.
Vanessa kept telling herself that as she walked along the curving cobblestone path of Diagon Alley. She would find someone better. Someone better suited to her personality and her ambitions. Someone better able to understand her opinions and her wishes. Someone just… better.
She and James weren't compatible. In some ways, she'd known that all along. But it had become blindingly clear as they found themselves sinking deeper and deeper into this mess with Muggleborn and werewolf rights.
They just weren't right for each other.
But it wasn't easy to let go. Before James, her life had been simpler - easier. She'd written stories about the incredible arrogance of Quidditch players, and though her articles had left many angry men in her wake, she had never given much thought to the consequences. There had been no need; they would not hurt her.
But the Lestranges and the Malfoys… they were different. They were dangerous.
Before all this, she had been satisfied with her job. She'd taken vindictive pleasure in exposing the hypocritical double standards for Quidditch players, and she had always felt as though what she was doing was important. Her stories had drawn attention to different forms of prejudice.
And yes, scandal and gossip had always been involved, but that was what it took to sell a story.
Then she had started dating James.
Vanessa shook her head and tried to push away all thoughts of the messy-haired wizard, but it was difficult. His flashing eyes and furious expression rose to the forefront of her mind, and she could not forget the way he had spoken to her, the anger in his tone.
She couldn't forget that he hadn't bothered to stop her as she walked out the door.
She sighed.
She didn't want to care.
Two months ago, he'd been little more than a spoiled boy who viewed the world in black and white, who thought that he could fix every problem he saw merely by wishing that things were different. But he'd changed in those weeks - and somehow, he'd changed her.
She was no longer content to spend her time on the privilege and follies of Quidditch players when there were so many worse crimes. She knew she had a gift, one that made her unique. Made her special. Even with her reputation for exposing scandal, she was still able to convince others to trust her, to whisper their secrets to her, foolishly believing that they alone could convince her to keep silent.
She nearly tripped over an uneven stone on the path, but caught her balance quickly. She was too obsessed with these thoughts, too lost in her own emotions. She needed to pay more attention to what was around her and stop dwelling on James.
She didn't even want to be thinking about him. Buried beneath the bitter hurt and resentment was the knowledge that this split had been for the best. They were too different. They had been sorted into different Houses for a reason, and although she was of the firm belief that House loyalty and prejudice could be overcome, she had to admit that, in this case, the two of them had some irreconcilable differences.
James would always see her actions as underhanded and sneaky, never fully accepting that the use of such tactics didn't make her unscrupulous. And she wasn't sure she could ever think of his firm determination to fight in the open as anything other than naïveté.
And then there was the issue of Lily.
This was for the best, she was sure of that. Still… she had truly liked - maybe even loved - James. It wasn't easy to let go of that.
She was so completely lost in her own thoughts that she did not see the man step directly in front of her until she had nearly walked straight into his chest. She started and looked up, and he was smirking at her with an expression that sent chills down her spine.
"Lestrange," she said, and it was more of a snarl than anything else.
Rabastan Lestrange grinned at her. His dark eyes traveled up and down the length of her body in a greedy manner and she had to mentally force herself not to flinch away from him. He might disgust her, might even scare her a little, but she wouldn't show weakness in front of him.
"The lovely Miss Lovely," Lestrange said, sweeping his arms out and bending at the waist in a mock bow. His eyes never left her face as he remarked, "You seem… upset."
Vanessa raised an eyebrow. She knew she was still flushed from the argument with James, and suspected that her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Lestrange could see that, and was clearly taking great pleasure in her misfortune, even though he had no way of knowing what exactly it was.
She pressed her lips into a thin line and forced herself to say coolly, "You have a leak in your little group, Lestrange." He quirked his own eyebrows up in a questioning manner, and she elaborated, "Someone told James that I had spoken to Malfoy about him. About Evans." Anger colored her voice as she added spitefully, "Apparently not all of your friends are as trustworthy as you thought."
Lestrange frowned, accepting that bit of information. He was clearly surprised, and Vanessa wondered briefly how Lily Evans had learned of her conversation with Malfoy. That was a mystery, and the answer might be useful to her in the future, so she tucked the question away to consider later.
Lestrange's look of surprise and confusion was replaced by one of supreme smugness, and he said, "What makes you think I trust any of them? I am a Slytherin, aren't I?"
"Well, obviously you trusted someone," Vanessa spat, "or James wouldn't have learned the truth." She looked away from him, collecting her emotions, and then said in a calmer tone, "But I suppose you wouldn't want to admit to that mistake. Blame it on one of your friends."
"I don't have friends," Lestrange answered. "Just acquaintances. Some more useful than others." She looked at him again, surprised by the astuteness of that particular comment, and found that he was gazing at her with a calculating frown. Then he said, "I take it Potter was not pleased."
Vanessa shrugged, determined not to let her hurt show. Anger was acceptable - anger was an emotion that Slytherins respected. It did not make her weak.
"No," she said, snapping out the word. "He wasn't. All he thinks about is Evans." Even as she said the sentence, she was surprised to find just how much fury seeped into her words. She uttered the redhead's name as though it tasted bad on her tongue.
She really did not like Lily Evans.
Of course, that was an unfair thought - none of this was Evans' fault. But Vanessa didn't really care.
Lestrange laughed softly. "How about you and I have a little chat?" he suggested, his hand coming to rest gently on her elbow. There was something suave about his manner, and something dangerous.
Maybe she had been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't as idiotic as she had originally believed.
But Vanessa wasn't stupid either, and she knew the dangers of going anywhere with Rabastan Lestrange.
Besides, she had nothing to say to him now.
She pulled away from him, and felt a burst of relief as he dropped his own arm and stepped backwards. She refused to let the relief show, though. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he unsettled her.
"I'm not interested," she snarled. "Didn't you hear what I said? It is over between James and I. It is over because you and your little friends couldn't keep your mouths shut."
Lestrange's eyes narrowed and his face flushed darkly at her accusation.
It wasn't a fair accusation anyway. Hadn't she just been thinking moments before that this split with James was inevitable? That it was for the best?
But, Merlin, she did not like Lestrange.
Then Lestrange grinned. "I could make the conversation worth your while," he said. He glanced around the path, but Diagon Alley was empty enough at the moment that there was no risk of being overheard. His grin grew, stretching to cover his entire face, and he said, "I can think of at least one thing that might interest you."
Vanessa tilted her chin up. "Oh?" she growled, frustrated that he was so calm, so collected, while she was angry and bitter. She was losing control of the conversation, and needed to get out of it quickly.
"Revenge," Lestrange said.
And just like that, a plan occurred to her.
"Potter, it is the middle of the night. What are you doing here?" Lily asked tiredly from her spot by the partially open door to her flat. She brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes and stifled a yawn. "Is this going to be a thing with you? Should I start expecting late night visits?"
James didn't answer her question, but instead asked one of his own. "How did it go with Belby?"
Lily blinked at him. "It's nearly two in the morning, Potter. Couldn't this conversation have waited for a more decent hour?" She glanced behind her, into the flat. "I don't want to wake Mary."
Once her back was turned to him, James quickly took the opportunity to step past her. He entered the flat, and though she looked at him with complete surprise, she did not stop him.
He took that as an acceptance of his presence.
"Did you impress him?" James asked. "Does he think you're brilliant?" He forced a smile to his lips, but Lily did not return the smile. She simply stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation of his appearance at her door, and he found himself continuing, "Of course he did."
He laughed, and the laugh sounded strained even to his own ears.
He sighed.
Lily frowned. "Potter, what's wrong?" she demanded. There was an edge of worry to her voice. "Did something happen?"
James folded his arms over his chest and regarded her for a moment. She looked upset, nervous. Like she was expecting some horrible news from him. Some repercussions to his actions, perhaps, or another attack on Muggleborns by the purebloods who seemed intent on ruining her life.
"Who told you about Vanessa and Lucius Malfoy?" he asked.
He had meant to approach the topic in a different manner. He hadn't meant to sound so accusatory. And he really hadn't planned on having this conversation in the middle of the night. But the thought had plagued him since his argument with Vanessa - how had Lily known?
There was no way she should have known. It wasn't like Malfoy or any of his friends would have confided in her. But somehow she knew about this… and that begged the question, what else did she know?
Was her secret knowledge why she was now looking at him with trepidation in her eyes? Did she know that something else was going to happen? Something bad? Something that affected him or her… or Sirius, Remus, or Peter?
Or was he misreading all of this? Was she worried simply because he had woken her up for no apparent reason?
The look of concern in Lily's eyes turned to astonishment, and she started, "Why does that…?" She stopped, shook her head. "Potter, what is going on?" Another pause, then she said in an even softer tone, "Did you talk to her?"
Her clearly meant Vanessa.
"I did," James answered shortly. He turned away from her, and muttered again, "I did." There was a sour taste in his mouth.
"And?" Lily prompted.
For a brief moment, a sneer turned up one corner of James' lips, then he said harshly, "We had a row." Lily was gazing at him sympathetically, and he snapped, "It doesn't matter." He looked down at the ground, and then, when Lily opened her mouth to say something, he cut in quickly, "Evans, who told you?"
"Potter…" Lily started.
He cut her off. "What else did the person say?" And then an idea occurred to him, and he grasped at it frantically, hoping it was true. "Or did you see them? Was that how you knew?"
At least that way no one would have told Lily anything. He wouldn't have to worry about her talking to pureblood fanatics intent on destroying him.
But it was an absurd worry, he reminded himself. Why would any of them talk to Lily in the first place?
Lily shrugged and didn't answer for a long moment. When she finally spoke, it was clear that she was carefully choosing her words.
"I heard the rumor and I wanted to pass it along to you. As a… friendly warning. But it doesn't matter where I heard it. That's irrelevant."
"It's not irrelevant to me," James snapped back. "Vanessa and I split because of it!"
Well, that wasn't entirely true. It was not Lily's fault that any of this had happened, and the split had been due to many things, not just this one incident. But James could still see the mixture of anger and hurt in Vanessa's eyes when she called him a hypocrite, pointing out his double standard for Lily, and he just couldn't let this go.
"I… I'm sorry," Lily faltered. She hesitated again, then asked warily, "But if she was working with Malfoy, wasn't that… wasn't that for the best?" There was a quiet diffidence to her voice, and an empathy he didn't fully understand.
"She wasn't working with Malfoy," James retorted, turning away from her and running a hand through his hair. "She was trying to trick him."
"Oh." Lily sounded nonplussed, and James was sure that if he could see her face she would be staring at him with a blank expression. She cleared her throat, then asked, "Then why did you two call it quits?"
"Because I didn't want her to do that. Because I want to fight things out in the open. I don't want to sneak around, lying and manipulating people and…"
He stopped, cutting himself off abruptly and letting out a long sigh. He turned around to face Lily again. There was no reason to go into the details of his break up with Vanessa. Besides, he honestly wasn't sure he could adequately explain it all, even if he wanted to.
"I need to know who told you," he said in a calmer voice. "I need to know if they said anything about me or… or my friends."
"They didn't," Lily answered flatly. "Not really." James continued to stare at her and she shrugged. "Nothing specific. Just that… that Malfoy is after you."
"Who told you?" James said again. He didn't understand Lily's reluctance to just answer the question. He needed to know - didn't she understand that? Why was she so determined to keep him in the dark about this?
But it seemed that he had finally pushed too much. "Why can't you just let it go?" Lily demanded angrily, now openly glaring at him.
"Because then Vanessa would be right about me!" James shot back without thinking.
His statement was met with bewildered silence from Lily. She was clearly waiting for more explanation, but he didn't want to talk about this, and he inwardly cursed himself for even bringing it up.
Fortunately, he was saved from having to immediately answer Lily's questioning look by the appearance of Mary. He and Lily had both raised their voices enough to wake her, and she stumbled out of her bedroom and stared at them with bleary eyes.
"Potter?" Mary asked, confused. "What are you…?" She trailed off and shook her head. "Ugh. Merlin, is this going to become a common thing?" she asked, switching her gaze to Lily. "Because if it is, Lils, you are getting your own place."
"Sorry, Mary," Lily said contritely.
Mary shrugged, waived away the apology, and stumbled back to her bedroom.
There was an awkward moment of silence after Mary had left, then James started towards the door. "I should go," he muttered, more to himself than to Lily.
"Wait," Lily said softly, stepping in front of him to block his path. "What did you mean that Vanessa would be right about you?"
"Nothing," James said quickly, dismissively. "Nothing at all."
"That wasn't nothing," Lily protested with narrowed eyes.
"Why can't you just let it go?" James asked, throwing Lily's early words back at her. If she wasn't willing to tell him how she had known about Malfoy, how could she expect him to confide in her about this?
Lily blinked at him, a mixture of hurt and anger in her eyes. And, for a moment, she looked almost exactly like Vanessa had when they'd argued.
His stomach twisted painfully at that thought. He'd dated girls at Hogwarts, and he'd broken up with them, and it had never bothered him this much. He'd never cared about them the way he'd cared about Vanessa. The way he still cared about her.
"Potter," Lily pressed.
"She thinks I have a double standard for you," James said irritably, silently cursing Lily and her endless ability to push. Honestly, how could she not have learned by now to just let things go?
"Huh?"
"She thinks I have a double standard for you," James repeated. Now that he had said the words aloud, everything else came tumbling out of his lips. "She thinks I get over fights with you far more quickly than with anyone else. After everything you said to Remus and about Remus, and I just let it go, didn't bring it up again. And I used my money and influence for you twice - first with advancement to the next stage of the potions program and then with Belby…"
"I didn't ask you to do that," Lily cut in.
"You didn't have to," James retorted furiously. "Don't you get it? I don't want to be this kind of person. I don't want to be someone who manipulates, who relies on his money and his family name…"
"You didn't mind doing it at Hogwarts," Lily interrupted.
"I've changed," James argued, insulted by her callous words. "At least, I'm trying to. I don't want to be that person anymore, but I keep doing these things for you and I don't even think about it. I just… I want you to be happy. I want you to have everything you want, everything you've ever dreamed of, and not only am I willing to give up what I want for that, but it doesn't even occur to me that I am being hypocritical because you're you and…"
That was much, much more than he had wanted to say, and Lily was staring at him, struck silent by the intensity of everything he had just practically shouted at her.
Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked out of her apartment.
"He's in love with you," Mary said decisively.
Lily stared at her mutely. She had just finished retelling the conversation with James to her friend, and whatever she had expected Mary to say, it was not that. She didn't know how to respond, and was now not even entirely sure she wanted Mary's opinion on the matter. Her friend was far too romantic to view this with anything approaching common sense or rationality, and, if given free reign, Mary would no doubt come up with a million reasons why Lily should love him back.
She opened her mouth, realized she had nothing to say, and snapped it shut.
She wasn't even really sure why she was upset by Mary's analysis. James had asked her out plenty of times in the past, and she'd always brushed off those incidents without giving them much thought.
But things were different now. Before, James had been an arrogant prat, and his continued pursuit of her had just been another way for him to get attention. Now they were friends, and his strange behavior bothered her.
And Mary was wrong. She had to be.
"He's always had double standards for you," Mary continued. "All those times he asked you out at Hogwarts… you're the only girl that he kept pursuing. Any other girl who said no… he might have tried once or twice more, but then he stopped."
Lily pressed her hands into the cushion of the sofa and shook her head in mute denial. It took her a moment, and then she said stubbornly, "He didn't fancy me. He just liked the challenge."
"That's not true," Mary countered. "I know you thought it was all a game to him… and maybe he did like the challenge, but he liked you, too." She tilted her head to the side, studying Lily for a moment, then said, "His rules don't apply to you, but Lils… do your rules apply to him?"
Lily frowned and asked sharply, "What do you mean?"
"The night that James came over, when he was angry, when he was yelling at you…" Mary began, glancing at Lily to see if the redhead would acknowledge the incident.
Lily nodded to indicate that she remembered, and felt a blush spread up her cheeks. Although she still firmly believed that the Marauders had been reckless, careless, and altogether irresponsible, she felt a little bit of shame when she thought about how callously she had spoken to Remus.
She hated feeling ashamed. She hated having to admit that she'd done something wrong.
"That was quite a row you two had," Mary continued. "You were both yelling at each other, and I thought... well, I didn't think it was going to end particularly well. I can't remember the last time I've seen either of you that angry."
"We were pretty upset with each other," Lily agreed.
"You were," Mary said. She paused briefly, then continued, "And then, the next thing I know, the two of you are working together on the potion. You weren't exactly friends, but you were… nice… to him. Or, at least, nicer than usual."
"So?" Lily protested, not understanding why Mary thought this was a big deal. "We talked it through and forgave each other."
Mary laughed outright at that. Lily blinked in surprise, and Mary said with a hint of incredulity in her tone, "Do you really expect me to believe that you - the Queen of Stubbornness - simply forgave James? No more arguments, no more rows, no more yelling at each other in the middle of the night?" She leaned forward and gazed at Lily intently, and then said, "And I don't know the particulars of your argument, Lily, but I know you said some rather unflattering things about Remus. And James… the one thing that never changed during our seven years at school was his steadfast loyalty to his friends. And you're telling me that he just… got over… whatever you said about Remus?"
"Yes," Lily said.
But the way Mary had said it, the way she had framed everything… well, it did seem a bit unlikely.
"He's just trying to fight prejudice," she at last. "He just wants to make a difference."
"Really?" Mary asked skeptically. "There are many ways to fight prejudice. There is a lot of prejudice out there that needs to be fought. If all he cares about is making a difference, why is he only focused on fighting the prejudice that you are facing?" She waited a beat for Lily to accept that, then added, "Why do you think he's so determined to fight prejudice in the first place?"
Lily didn't answer.
"You don't forgive people that quickly, Lily," Mary said, risking to her feet, "and neither does James. Not unless something else is going on." She walked around Lily and headed into the kitchen, leaving the redhead alone with her thoughts.
Lily leaned back against the sofa and considered what Mary had said. It was true that she wasn't quick to forgive people unless they were her very close friends. And ever since the end of fifth year, she'd been reluctant to do even that. After all, she'd attempted to overlook her concerns about Severus and her hurt at Petunia's taunts, believing that she could still somehow save those relationships… and that hadn't ended particularly well either time.
So why had she forgiven James?
At the time, she had rationalized her acceptance of him as merely a reflection of how desperate she was to succeed at the Wolfsbane potion. Little else had been going right in her life, and she had desperately needed to figure out the potion because it seemed to be the only way she could prove that she was still good at something. That her life had meaning, purpose… worth.
And so she had swallowed her pride and her anger and accepted James' help because she wasn't sure she had any other choice.
At least, that was what she had told herself at the time.
But James had just broken up with Vanessa. She had seen his anger, and she understood what that meant. He had cared about Vanessa, and this split was hurting him much more than he wanted to admit. That had to be at least part of the reason for his strange visit.
Right?
She sighed and closed her eyes. James had argued with Vanessa because Vanessa had spoken to Malfoy. And now James was afraid that if he didn't know exactly how Lily had learned about Vanessa and Malfoy, if he let her keep this secret, Vanessa would have been right about him; he really did have a double standard for her.
She heard footsteps and opened her eyes in time to see Mary walk back into the room with a cup of cocoa in one hand.
The other witch gave Lily a searching look, and then asked, "Why were you so reluctant to tell James how you knew about Vanessa and Malfoy?" She frowned, furrowing her brow, and pressed, "How did you know?"
Lily chewed her lip, reluctant to tell. Mary wouldn't understand. Mary had never understood anything about Severus. Severus had been too friendly with Mulciber, and after what that… animal… had done to Mary…
Well, it was really no wonder that the other witch was hesitant to believe anything but the worst of Severus.
But she'd never met the younger Severus, the sweet and innocent boy who'd sat next to Lily in the overgrown grass along the bank of the river and shared stories about the magical world and assured the redhead that she would fit in there, that she belonged.
But Mary had been one of Lily's best friends for seven years, and she didn't need Lily to vocalize her thoughts. One look at the redhead's face, and Mary knew exactly how Lily had discovered Vanessa's actions.
Her expression darkened.
Lily read the expression correctly and sighed. "I'm sorry," she whispered, averting her gaze. It was hard, knowing that she'd never be completely able to let go of her feelings towards a boy whose friends had tormented Mary.
Mary shrugged. "It's not your fault," she said, but there was a definite edge to her voice. She considered Lily for a moment more, then added, "James is the better man, Lils."
Lily looked up at her and nodded. "I know."
Lily took a deep breath, pulled together all her courage, and knocked on the door of the large home. She had no reason to be nervous, and she hated the fact that her heart was hammering so rapidly in her chest. It was ridiculous; she was only here to say one thing, and then she would leave…
James opened the door.
"Evans," he said, surprised.
"Potter," she answered. She was a little surprised herself. She had expected a house-elf to open the door. But then she frowned. Did the Potters own a house-elf? She wasn't sure - she couldn't remember if James had ever mentioned one. Still… didn't all prestigious pureblood families have one?
James cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
The question tore her thoughts away from house-elves and pureblood culture, and before she could rethink her plan, she said quickly, "It was Sev-Snape. Snape was the one who told me about Malfoy and Vanessa. He was worried that they were going to try to hurt me and he… he wanted to warn me."
James' eyes narrowed dangerously.
"You can't tell anyone," Lily continued hurriedly. "If anyone finds out that he told me…" She stopped, and wondered vaguely why she was so determined to protect her former best friend. But the answer to that came easily enough: he'd been trying to protect her. Of course, his methods still appalled her, and she knew she would never be able to turn her back on what she believed in, even if it was the only way to save herself. But he had cared enough to try, and that still counted for something.
Or did it?
"Why not?" James demanded harshly. "If he knows anything else, if he can help us…"
"He won't," Lily said with conviction. "He won't help us." Well, that wasn't entirely true, so she clarified, "He won't help you."
James nodded a bit reluctantly. There was too much truth in that statement for him to even attempt to deny it.
"You can't tell anyone," Lily said again. She knew he didn't understand how important this was, and she needed to make him understand.
"Why do you still care about him?" James demanded, disgust lacing his voice. "You're better than him. He's… he's nothing. He's just a slimy Slytherin who doesn't care about anything but the Dark Arts and his own supremacy."
"He's my friend," Lily said automatically. But that wasn't true, so she let out a deep breath and said, "He was my friend." She chewed her lip and continued to gaze earnestly at James. "I can't just… I don't want to care but I…"
She thought abut her conversation with Mary. She hadn't offered Mary any explanation for her need to protect Severus, and Mary hadn't bothered to ask. They'd been through this before at Hogwarts, multiple times, and Mary would never understand.
And then she thought about Sirius. Her mind drifted back to the conversation they'd had all those weeks ago. His sharp words about the end of her friendship with Severus, about the pain that still lingered two years later… He was the only one who seemed to understand just how much that incident by the lake had affected her.
James shook his head in disbelief. "I don't get you," he said coolly.
"But Black does," Lily mused, more to herself than to James.
James gazed at her with unconcealed surprise, clearly wanting some explanation for her comment. But she shook her head and didn't answer.
Finally, James sighed. "Alright," he said, "I won't tell anyone." A slight pause, then, "And thank you for telling me."
Lily swallowed back the uncomfortable lump in her throat and said, "I'm sorry about what happened with Vanessa. I'm sorry for anything I did to… to ruin what you had."
"You didn't do anything," James answered quietly. He glanced behind him, then asked, "Would you like to come in?"
But Lily shook her head. She could tell that he'd made the offer because it was the polite thing to do, but he wasn't ready to spend more time with her. And she wasn't ready to have any sort of a conversation with him. She didn't feel entirely comfortable in his presence, and she had a suspicion that they both needed time to work things out on their own.
"No, thank you," she said. "I need to… I have things I need to do."
James shrugged, a look of relief passing momentarily through his features. Lily found herself smiling inwardly at that. The old James wouldn't act so unsure, and wouldn't be so relieved that they weren't rushing into more in depth conversations.
The old James would probably have asked her out as soon as he had broken up with Vanessa.
And the old Lily would never have come to his door in the first place. The old Lily wouldn't have been willing to trust him with the truth.
"So it seems that most of our conversations are going to happen in doorways," James said finally, an awkward smile tugging at his lips.
Lily grinned. "Perhaps," she agreed as she started to walk away from him, "but you'll notice that I have enough common courtesy not come by in the middle of the night."
Some men really are idiots.
James read the first line of the letter with a slight frown. He wasn't sure whether or not that comment was aimed at him. Vanessa had certainly been upset and angry at him when they had spoken two days ago. He didn't blame her - but he also didn't think that she would be the type to rant at him in a letter.
I know what you think of my tactics. I know what you think of most Slytherins, and you're wrong on both accounts. But while I may be able to change your mind about the latter, I know I can't change your feelings about the former.
You have loyal friends. That is something to be proud of, something to cherish. Friends as loyal as yours are rare. And you are about to lose Black and Lupin, and maybe even Pettigrew. You know as well as I do that Malfoy won't stop and Black won't give in and this won't end well.
Fortunately for you, Rabastan Lestrange falls into the category of men who are idiots.
You can burn the rest of the letter if you want - part of me thinks you might do it. I am sure what I did would appall you. But before you rage about how I am going against your express wishes, I want to make it exceedingly clear that I did not do this for you. I want to fight this battle, too, and while I know that we are on the same side, that does not mean that I am going to change who I am and how I operate just because it isn't Gryffindor enough for you.
I am sorry for how things ended between us. And as it turns out, Lestrange is a bit smarter than I gave him credit for. But he knows the old adage about a woman scorned, and thinks it applies here.
Maybe it does. Maybe I should hate you. Maybe I do hate you. But I hate him more.
And after an unpleasant conversation with him, I managed to obtain some information that may be of use to you. You can do whatever you want with it. I think it would be quite interesting if it ended up in the Daily Prophet, but perhaps it will serve you better in other ways. I can think of at least one person who will do anything to make sure it stays hidden.
You know what is at stake. And I won't tell you what to do. It is your decision, and you can fight this battle any way you want, but I will caution you to at least think about who is going to pay the price.
He didn't want to read the rest of the letter. He didn't know what kind of information Vanessa had obtained, but he did know that she was exceptionally good at what she did. Whatever she had learned from Lestrange, he had a feeling it would be enough to protect his friends.
And if he looked at it… well, it would likely be enough to break any resolve he had left.
This wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't how he wanted to fight. He was a Gryffindor…
But as she had said, he had loyal friends. Friends that he cherished, friends that he wanted to protect, no matter what. And they were the ones who would pay the price.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Then he continued reading.
While You Tell Me Stories by Dawnie
Chapter Notes: I didn't expect so many people to notice my extended absence between the last couple chapters... sorry about that. I was out of the country, but I am back now, so you can expect more regular updates.