She received several presents; loads of candy from Honeydukes besides several other things—and a letter from her father.
Lily, dear.
This may be a shock to you; on the other hand, it may not. My company is slowly going bankrupt; it’s due to a mistake one of my clerks made, and it had to do with quite a bit of property going to the wrong owner. I’m telling you this because I might have to take you out of Hogwarts; it’s not one of the cheapest schools to send you to, and I’m sure you don’t need to study any more. You’re my smart sixth year, and you’ll be fully prepared for everything the magical world faces—though I’d prefer it, really, if you married sensibly in our class and settled down, using magic only for things like getting dressed. Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to make a drastic change. I’m just telling you that I don’t approve of magic much, and I wish, on my behalf, that you would help me at home.
--Dad
Lily finished this with a rather archedly raised eyebrow, the only significant part of her face that showed her anger. Her father was, quite literally, asking her to forsake something she was, simply because an arrogant, single-minded Muggle like himself never knew what she could become. In a white-hot fury, in an anger that the small letter hardly deserved, she flung herself at a desk and penned a hurried answer.
Mr. Evans,
I am not giving up a part of myself for the sake of what you call your morals. If you knew me at all, you would know better than to ask. You are currently not paying for my school expenses; the amount is drawn out of my account at Gringotts. That was a flimsy excuse. I do not have any desire to marry; I do not have the slightest inclination towards being what you call ‘sensible’. I am not sensible; I am headstrong, stubborn, often cruel, and flighty when not heartless. I have helped you at home more than some say I should, and now you ask me to do this. I point-blank refuse.
--Lily
She tied it to Alisande’s leg; the aging owl flew off into the pale blue sky quickly, and Lily was angrily turning away from the window when, again, she bumped face-first into James.
“You again?”
He ignored her rude outburst. “That wasn’t exactly a father-daughter letter, was it?”
Lily snorted, not even bothering to make a comment about eavesdroppers. “I don’t care. I hate him. I hope I never see him or his race again!”
“Whoa!” Frowning, he placed two hands on her shaking shoulders. “You don’t mean that. No—you don’t,” he added, as he caught her glare, this time directed towards him. “You’re frustrated—that’s all.”
James pushed her into an armchair. “Be sensible, for once, and listen to me. He’s your father!”
“Was my father.”
He tried to talk to her about that through the whole day; he even waved Sirius away, who was vigorously pointing to the dwindling twilight outside and then to Remus. At the end of the day, she was still stubbornly shooting jabbed remarks about her family every which way she went, in other words, at James, and he was hearing a whole lot about the time in fourth year after her mother had died that he never wanted to; for instance, the time that he couldn’t aim right when he threw up; he had managed to do so on his pillow, and then he had flopped right into bed.
James was seriously thinking about earplugs—but then a sliver of moonlight pierced the window and fell onto her face; he remembered his friend.
James jumped up. “I’ve got to go. It’s Remus.”
”It’s the full moon—what about him?”
”I’ve got to leave. Lily, please! Just—just leave off right here.”
“Okay. Good. I need to finish another letter to my former father that I never started.”
“Argh!” He gripped his hair in his hands, then grabbed her wrist. “You’re coming with me—but you’re staying where I tell you to.”
Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted outside, dashing across the lawns, and stopping just in front of the Whomping Willow. There, he turned to her.
“Look, wait here for me. I’ll be back in a second.”
She folded her arms and glared at him, and he knew better than to try to stop her, but he still made a last-ditch attempt.
“Lily Evans, it’s dangerous down there—there’s a werewolf in there—“
“Then why are you going?”
This was bringing nothing. James simply groaned, knowing that he never should have left the common room. Too late now, he thought grimly, she could figure out how to get to the Shrieking Shack by herself. Picking up a long sick, he poked a knot in the trunk of the Whomping Willow with it, and the tree instantly froze. Both of them vanished into a hole at the bottom of the willow, James wishing he’d never come in the first place; he’d have to do a load of protecting her by keeping Remus away, and he knew that she’d find out about his Animagi form.
Of course, he didn’t know that she already knew about it.
He also didn’t know about a future complication that was sneaking across the lawns in the form of a batlike black cloak.
As she let herself be pulled down the passageway, she whisked her wrist free of his grasp and followed closely. To herself, she asked why she was doing this. The answer came quickly. She was sick of the secret she had to keep from them, from the lies she had had to tell them if they ever started to find out that she knew. And—and—she never usually had hunches. It was only that evening that she had had one. Something connected between the way Sirius’ eyes flickered when he pointed towards Remus, and something in the way Severus was avoiding every single student, going his own way more than usual.
The feeling was something else she would be able to cast aside easily; it was only this moment that she had grasped, stupidly or wisely, for doing it. Grimly, she thought, probably stupidly, but she didn’t have much time to think anything else. Several growls came from somewhere above her, along with the noise of ripping cloth. James flung an arm out to stop her; he took her shoulders in his hands.
“Lily, I know I can’t stop you, but I’m trying to appeal to your common sense. Please go outside and wait for me. I’m begging you, with everything I know of. Please.”
Lily cast one look at his eyes; she shouldn’t have. Inside her, something gave way, and she nodded limply.
“I don’t want to. But all right, then. You—you’re sure you’ll be all right?”
”Positive.” His voice was agitated, and he fairly pushed her back down the passageway. “Now go!”
Unwillingly, she flitted into the shadows, and, with a sigh of relief, James let himself into the Shrieking Shack, where he found Sirius and Remus wrestling for something; the shaggy black dog was holding a clingy grey rat gently in his mouth, and the werewolf was trying to snatch it; its head twisted in an odd way underneath Sirius’ paw. James grinned to himself as he transformed into his own Animagi form and galloped towards the two, knocking the rat out of Sirius’ mouth.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, the door was flung open with a bang. Lily, eyes wild and breathless, stood in the opening, taking in the surroundings, and not a bit surprised. James, on his part, was.
He jumped up, and, running over to her, tried to butt her in the stomach with his antlers, trying desperately to get her out of there. Frightened of something, she simply pushed them out of the way.
“James, not right now! I—come with me!” She vanished down the corridor, and, baffled and dismayed himself, James transformed and followed her. What had happened—and how did she know his Animagi form?
On her part, when Lily had been shoved down the corridor, she had, obediently, followed the earthy hallway to the exit underneath the Whomping Willow. But when she was within ten feet of it, she drew back. Someone was dropping down—had pushed the grass aside, and had found the entrance. He had fallen lightly on the floor, and was looking around curiously. Rather slowly, he was advancing, looking about him as if he expected the tunnel to crash on him any minute.
Panting, Lily had recognized him—no one else she knew had that silhouette. Severus knew how to get in here—and from what she could guess, Sirius had told him, hoping that he would come to a confrontation with Remus. Immediately, she recognized that she could do nothing—her only hope was to get one of the boys; she was without her wand, and they were stronger than she; it was highly unlikely that Severus would allow himself to be persuaded back. He hated James and Sirius more than anything, and he would do anything to find out something incriminating about them.
Lily did a quick about-face and headed for the Shrieking Shack, which was full of romping bangs and barks. With utter disregard for any sort of danger she might be facing, she flung open the door, face to face with a large, black dog, a pale grey stag, and a shaded werewolf.
When James had followed her outside and heard Sirius bolt the door behind him as Remus threw himself at it, he could start to get angry, and he did.
“What in blazes do you think you’re doing?”
“Not now,” she gasped, clutching her side—it was quite a run from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade. “Not now. James—Severus—Snape, he’s coming up the corridor—someone told him how to get in here—he’s going to see Remus—and you, and—and—“ She couldn’t go on, but she knew she didn’t have to. James had understood.
“I’ll go and try to pull him back. You try to tell Sirius or Peter—get some help—wait, don’t!”
But she had already started for the door.
“Are you crazy? You’ll be killed!”
She flashed a grin at him. “If you don’t learn to live with danger, you won’t learn to live at all.”
He didn’t move, and she waved him towards the other end of the tunnel. “Go!”
“Right, right,” James murmered to himself, and, with that, he set off, running towards the intruder, dashing as fast as he could, not caring about the branches and rocks that scratched him on the head and arms, that tripped him every so often.
Lily turned around after she saw him vanish into the gloom. Without hesitating, she turned for the muffled bangs for the second time, and opened up the door, sliding back the bold from the outside; a trick she had learned some years ago. She eased the door open, and found Sirius and Remus wrestling in earnest; Peter was cowering, in his rat form, in a corner.
Eyes wild, Sirius looked up and growled at her, as much as to say, “Get out!” She ignored that, and, stepping forward, she tried to gain his attention.
“Sirius, Severus’ coming down here! You’ve got to do something with Remus—James needs your help!”
The dog let out something rather near a whine, but he dug his teeth farther into the scruff of Remus’ neck, trying to make him go limp for a few seconds. On the contrary, however, it merely enraged him, and he whipped out a paw that had been pinned underneath him, slinging it towards Sirius’ head. The dog gave a short whimper, then tried to stand up, but it was rather late; the werewolf was eyeing the now empty doorway; Lily had vanished down the corridor.
Sirius groaned, mentally hitting himself for doing something this idiotic as telling Snape how to get in—sure, he’d wanted him to die, and he still wanted him to!—but this was pulling Lily into it, too…and dangerously! Suddenly gaining strength, he sprinted after Remus, who was a second ahead of him. For five minutes they raced each other, almost flank to flank, jumping over each other in the narrow tunnel, one trying to stop the other, the other trying to get by. But the werewolf was more ferocious than Sirius was, even in his dog-form, and they soon came in sight of three people, two of which lost their calm, cool manner and started shoving the third one back.
James had tried simply talking to Snape; he was thankful he had been in that play; he needed to know how to hide fear under a mask of collectiveness. Still, he knew, something showed through, and at a critical moment, when Snape was about to push by him, Lily showed up.
For once, James breathed a sort of thank you for her timing and her acting. She convincingly pulled off a rather bored, somewhat embarrassed attitude; James knew what she was pretending to cover up, and that it incriminated him, but anything was better than the truth, now. He was only thankful Bertha Jorkins had left last year, what with the scandal she had burrowed up concerning that Hufflepuff, Florence Wilkins…
But he had no time to think of that. Eyes wide, Lily was trying to lead Snape back towards Hogwarts, and, just as he was about to deliver a cutting speech towards both of them and return by himself, Remus broke out, along with Sirius.
At that, both James and Lily panicked; James kept his head a bit more than she did, and he yelled at her,
“Go get some help!”
“But they’ll find out—“
“Just go!”
With a last glance, she disappeared towards the castle, and James was madly pulling Snape towards the exit underneath the Whomping Willow; he was frozen with fright and astonishment; also with a sort of excitement at finding out that one of his enemies was a werewolf.
James finally managed to gain a distance of fifteen feet between him and the growling, snapping teeth of the werewolf; Sirius was clearly exhausting himself terribly; he couldn’t hold him back much longer.
Terrified, James yelled towards Snape, “Just go! You can blackmail us in the morning, if we’re still alive!”
It wasn’t that comment that drove Severus back outside; it was the fear of the werewolf, who was meanwhile clawing two feet away from James; foot. In the nick of time, James swung himself outside, and, pulling Severus with him, leaped behind the Whomping Willow barely a millisecond after he froze it.
None too soon. The instant they had vanished from sight, Remus clawed his way to the surface. It was all Sirius could do to guide him, snapping at Remus, towards the Forbidden Forest, where Sirius followed him, collapsing behind a tree and remaining there until he could see Lily return with Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, which she did almost as soon as he had vanished.
Madam Pomfrey was almost frighteningly businesslike; she quietly conjured stretchers for the three of them; James, Lily, and Severus, though James was the only one who didn't have the energy to protest against them.
Dumbledore was gazing piercingly at them, and they knew they'd better have a good explanation of what they were doing near a werewolf. However, Dumbledore let the questions wait until they were seated in beds, propped up against mounds of pillows, and drinking a potion Madam Pomfrey had labeled Pepperup.
Lily didn't know exactly what it was, but she found she was thankful for it. In the excitement, she hadn't paid any attention to the fact that the snow on the ground was almost frozen solid; the time they had spent in the tunnel and outside had given them a blueish tint to their faces and limbs, and the Pepperup Potion sent hot steam rushing through their bodies, finally welling out of their ears.
Sirius entered the room about ten minutes after they were settled, and he, on his part, was quickly whisked into bed. There was no denying that he was worse off than either of the other three; deep scratches were all over his body; they had torn his robes to shreds.
Dumbledore, more serious than many had seen him, seated himself on a chair that the nurse provided. His eyes were stern.
"I trust I do not have to ask you to explain yourselves."
There was a moment of silence; they were racking their brains furiously.
Lily cast a look around, and saw that neither of the boys would come up with a feasible tale. She quickly opened her mouth.
"Professor--it was my fault."
There was no denying that this was unexpected, and there was also no denying that a further explanation was expected. She continued.
"I didn't know where Remus went every month, and I thought he might be in some sort of trouble. I followed him this evening, and I suppose James and Sirius must have seen me going into the Whomping Willow. I shouldn't have--but I was worried about him--he's my friend, Professor."
She took a deep breath, along with the stares of her listeners, and went on.
"I think Severus must have thought something odd was going on, and he tried to go in there after me, and he thought something was up, because James and I were trying to push him back out--and then we saw Remus coming around the corner, and James yelled for me to get help. I don't know what happened there until we came back." Exhausted, she leaned her head back against the pillows.
Severus had his two cents to put into the pie, though. "There was a large black dog there, fighting with the werewolf."
James knew the answer to this. "Oh--you mean--" He was struggling for a name, and his eyes lit on Sirius--"you mean Blacky--he's a stray from the village. I've seen him there during visits, and he seems to like me. I suppose that's why he came to help us."
Severus was halfway satisfied, as wasn't Dumbledore.
"I must ask you to tell me anything else that you might know--anything else that has happened. This may be more serious than you realize."
"It is." Severus drew everyone's attention towards himself. "Black tried to murder me."
The headmaster rose to his feet, eyes hard and robes swaying. "Mr. Snape, explain yourself!"
Severus nodded. "With pleasure. Black was the one that told me that if I poked a knot on the Whomping Willow, I would be able to get to the place that I had seen Potter and Lily sneaking off to. He said nothing about a werewolf!"
Dumbledore looked around, at the frightened faces of the Gryffindors and the angry countenance of Severus, who was sitting straight up, arms folded.
"I will let you rest for this night, but be assured, you will explain tomorrow! I will expect you in my office at twelve o'clock noon exactly; I expect Madam Pomfrey to release you tomorrow morning. And--Mr. Snape, it is completely understood that you are not to reveal anything that you have discovered tonight. I need not add that any revelation on your part would mean expulsion."
Severus didn't look too pleased.
"I bid you all a good night--what there is of it."
With a swaying of his cloak, he had vanished into the open doorway; another soft click, and the door had shut.
Madam Pomfrey was bustling over with bowls of steaming soup, and, as they forced it down their throats, they realized the danger of expulsion they were facing, especially Sirius and James.
The next morning, they were met at the door of the hospital wing by Peter, who had scurried out of the Shrieking Shack a half hour after he had heard everything quiet down outside. He had made his way to Gryffindor Tower, spent the night in front of the fire, and had dashed to the hospital wing first thing that morning, not even bothering to slip into fresh robes.
James, Sirius, Peter, and Lily were sitting apart from everyone else at the table; they were hardly eating, though they had missed out on the Christmas feast that had been held the night before. Frantically, they were comparing ideas and cooking up a tale that Dumbledore would be satisfied with and that Severus couldn't pick apart, no matter how much he wanted to.
They could hardly taste their food; it felt like soggy sawdust as they pushed about two bites of a biscuit each into their mouths.
Soon, the golden plates cleared, and they had to leave the Great Hall. They took refuge in the kitchens; they knew they'd be swamped in the Gryffindor common room, and the grounds were open to anyone that cared to eavesdrop, as Lily pointed out. Besides, the house-elves were only too happy to conceal them from intruders, as they were more than familiar with James and Sirius.
At eleven-thirty, they were as prepared as they could be, and they were making their way to Dumbledore's office. At a quarter till twelve, they were congregating outside, trying to keep their voices down; Severus was curiously eyeing them.
To make it easier for them on some points, Lily had told them how long she had known about their Animagi transformations, and the boys were frankly flabbergasted; they had thought that they had been exceptionally secretive and inconspicuous. Still, it was a relief not to have to tell her the entire story, which they would have had to, seeing that she already knew something about it; the way she had called the stag 'James' definitely indicated that.
Twelve o'clock sounded, and Professor McGonagall stepped out from the headmaster's office. She waved them inside, and, single file, they mounted the spiraling staircase, hearts in their mouths.
They trooped into Dumbledore’s office, and, eyes wide, they sank into seats that were pointed out to them. Professor McGonagall left the room, and they were left alone with Professor Dumbledore, who was quizzically letting his blue eyes flash over them from behind his desk.
“I must ask you if you have anything to say for yourselves.”
The room remained silent, except for the three notes of phoenix song that were echoing from a cage near the desk.
“You have, all of you, been exceedingly foolish. Miss Evans, I would have expected better of you than to go looking for danger. Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, and Mr. Pettigrew, all three of you were exceedingly at fault for at least one of you not going for a teacher. Mr. Snape-“ His eyes rested on the rather sullen figure with the flowing cloak draped around the chair. “Mr. Snape-you deliberately pried into business not your own, and you could have been killed, and your schoolmates as well, simply as a result of your actions. I am-“ He paused.
Taking his half-moon glasses off, he wiped them carefully on his sleeve, replaced them, then resumed his lecture.
“I am deeply disappointed. I would have expected better of five sixth years. As it is, though-“
Here he paused again, letting blue orbs flicker over each moderately terrified form. He was starting to make them twitch anxiously before he spoke again.
“I believe you five have undergone enough fright last night; you were attacked by a werewolf, after all, and have escaped practically unscathed. As far as I can see, nothing you have done was breaking many school rules, and you-“ he looked at James-“did show true Gryffindor bravery when you pulled Mr. Snape away, though you could have left. I award Gryffindor House twenty points, and I trust you shall do better in future.”
The Gryffindors were staring at him as though they had just stuck each finger in a light socket and a bulb in their mouths. They had just escaped expulsion-that is, Sirius, James, and Peter-and they were being awarded points?
They snapped back to reality at Severus’ laughter and Dumbledore’s chuckle.
“You may be dismissed. Merry Christmas to you all.”
They stood up and were about to file out of the door, when the headmaster held Severus back.
“Mr. Snape-a word, if you please.”
They never knew what happened behind the closed door, but Severus emerged from behind the gargoyle with a grim, white look on his face; his lips were stretched into thin lines. Lily tried to talk to him, but he brushed her aside impatiently and hardly spoke to her for the rest of the holidays; he preferred to practice several curses and whisper secretly with his Slytherin friends; ones that Lily had once been friendly with, but now she wasn’t that close to: people whose parents Lily had seen with Tom; and sometimes they themselves-Avery, Nott, Macnair, Rosier, Goyle…
Something strange had happened after the play. Lying came more easily to Lily than ever before, and it took next to no time for her to come up with a convincing explanation for things. Before it, her wits would have been so scattered after the incident with Remus that she wouldn’t have had the time to think up a story that Dumbledore himself would accept, but now the pretense of everything started to seep into her, and she was feeling more strangely detached from things, as if the world around her was in such a lower class than she was that she found lying to it almost an obligation.
Something else had happened during the Crucible and the night of December 25th. She and James and Sirius were starting to become incredibly closely knit; they were almost inseparable, and they were spending more time in the pub of the Three Broomsticks or the common room than ever before, talking about things.
She was starting to trust James with the secret about the Alendoren Cove again. Lily told him what Tom had suspected and what she had feared and thought for a while; she was relieved to see the utter astonishment on his face when he heard her say what had been on her mind. She was opening up more; her sarcastic manner started to drop, and he had found her in her dormitory one day, clutching an old book of her mother’s and crying as if her heart would break, something she hadn’t done in a long while.
School had started, and January was bringing flurries of laughter and spasm of snowball fights to the students. Light, pale pearl clouds were floating in the ceiling of the Great Hall, and the sun shone brightly on the frozen grounds.
One day, Lily was sitting in her dormitory, brushing her hair, holding her inky quill between her teeth, and flipping pages of An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration when the door opened. Lily looked up, then, finding only Serena there, turned back to her book. It was only when Serena started speaking to her that she spit the quill and several loose strands of hair out of her mouth.
“So, you and James are getting along nicely, are you?”
Lily smiled. “Yes.”
“Feeling rather special after the play, aren’t you?”
“Moderately.” Her good mood was vanishing.
“I’ll have you know that you almost didn’t win that award.” Rather full of herself, Serena tossed her hair over her shoulder and waited for Lily’s response.
”I am deeply touched. You asked your father to turn the judges against us, I imagine?”
Serena hadn’t really expected this. “Well-no-I didn’t-“
“Liar,” Lily stated smoothly. “You didn’t seem to like the fact that you thought we were going to win, so enough said. You’re rather a poor opponent.”
The girl started to boil. “I just didn’t want you getting over yourself! You think you’re so much better than everyone else here, simply because of your grades and that pointless acting award! I’m simply trying to better humanity!”
That was too much for Lily. She burst out in a fit of snorts and half-giggles.
That night, when she came down to dinner, she noticed James’ face being somewhat more preoccupied than usual. He kept staring off into his glass of pumpkin juice, and he was completely ignoring Peter’s crawling underneath the table, transforming, and skittering up the robes of quite a few of the students.
“James?” She knocked on the glass to get his attention.
“What?” He looked up.
“You seem elsewhere.”
He smiled. “Oh-I was just thinking.”
Lily laughed. “Am I going mad, or did the word ‘think’ escape your lips? You are not hired for your brains, you hypertonic landmass!”
He grinned, too. “You’ve been reading The Princess Bride one too many times.”
”Well, if I like it, what’s it to you?”
”I’ve got to hear you quote it!”
She laughed. “You and the rest of Gryffindor Tower.”
Remus had recovered wonderfully from the werewolf incident; he was quite shaken for about two weeks afterwards, but then he relapsed into his old, carefree, happy-go-lucky self. For some reason, the character that came to Lily’s mind whenever she saw him was Winnie-the-Pooh; he was usually happy, and his hair was the golden brown she imagined the teddy bear’s coat to be.
