Beyond Hogwarts cont; Chapter Twenty Eight

-=Beyond Hogwarts, cont.; Chapter Twenty Eight=-

Quickly making sure they were gone, Lily hurried upstairs to change clothes. She had owled Severus earlier that day, telling him that today James would have the final notice on whether or not the mission was going to become a reality, and, if so, when and where it was taking place. He had written back smoothly, asking her to meet him in a French café on the far end of Madraiden Place, a wide street only a few blocks away from Diagon Alley.
   Mostly because it amused her, Lily pulled a black dress out of her closet, sleeveless, with a tightly boned bodice and long skirt, gathered over one hip but still sweeping the floor. Slipping a lace veil over her face and hair, she took a brooch out of her jewelry box; a blue stone shaped like a feather, set in silver. Pinning it over the gathered point in her skirt, Lily turned towards the mirror.
   The dress and veil had been hanging on the closet door one evening-one of James’ acquaintances had a wife that ran an extravagantly styled store a few shops away from the café Severus had suggested, and James had managed to do her husband a favor at the Ministry. He had been invited to meet the man’s wife, and Lily’s outlandish taste in clothing had come up in the conversation. With a bright smile, the owner of the store had suggested that James pick out a gown, free of charge.
   Lily surveyed the lady in the glass critically. The black veil darkened the color of her hair; the sheer material flowed down in the back to just below her waist, effectively hiding all of the auburn. In the front, the veil only dropped to her chin, but her eyes were no longer green; the blue brooch made sure of that.
   It wasn’t only because this was the clothing she liked that Lily had placed a veil over her hair; it was for Severus. She knew that he wouldn’t care if anyone saw him fraternizing with James Potter’s wife, but Lily was concerned about the people that might see him doing so, especially if they were closely linked to Tom. It was dangerous for him; an audience might very well think that he was slipping information to her, and she had a direct connection to the Ministry.
   And, for herself, Lily found it much more invigorating to masquerade as an outlandish, prosperous lady than simply slipping in and out of view in a pair of grey robes and jeans. There were people who thrived on stares, ogles, and comments, but Lily didn’t belong to that class. She wore what she did for a simple reason: she felt like a character from a book or a play whenever she appeared in something gaudy. To her, there was a feel of blurred pages, intricate minds, and dramatization in anything out-of-the-way, and it was exhilarating to feel like someone to whom things happened.
   Slipping a few coins into each well-hidden pocket of the gown, Lily swept downstairs, stretching her hand out of the box of Floo powder, but deciding against it; she didn’t want to decorate the dress with an assortment of ashes. With a quick glance around, Lily Disapparated.
   Madraiden Place was a medium-sized street, filled with shops that had elegantly sculptured fronts, cafés with the front walls made of practically nothing but glass, thin cloth canopies pulled out from over the bistros, covering assortments of tables, chairs, and guests. This was an avenue with a Continental feel to it; a mixture of French, Italian, Spanish, German, Belgian, and Austrian cultures, and only the stylish parts of those traditions were combined.
   Severus hadn’t arrived yet, though that was to be expected; she was a few minutes early. Slipping into a seat next to one of the outside tables, she nodded to one of the waiters in bronze and green robes. He was at her table within a few seconds, bowing, and Lily had to stifle a laugh. It was fun to be treated almost like royalty, and this behavior was occasioned by the costly gown. Not that James wasn’t a member of the richest families in England, but he hardly ever dressed that way, and it wasn’t unusual to see Lily in dance pants and a T-shirt.
   “I’ll have an iced chocolate coffee,” Lily said dismissively, and the waiter was back within moments, setting her drink and a macaroon onto the table.
   “Is Madame expecting anyone else?”
   “He’ll order for himself, thank you,” she nodded, and he withdrew, leaving Lily alone.
   It was a beautiful, hot, drowsy evening; the sun hadn’t set as of yet, but the light was yellowing. It was only six o’clock, so there were no candles or torches out yet. Looking down, Lily soberly examined her nails, very well aware of the curious glances of two small witches only about nine years old.
   An “I’m sorry; I’m late” made her look up; Severus had sat down across from her.
   “You’re not late. I’m early,” she smiled. “How are you?”
   “Fine, I suppose. But you…” He gestured to her outfit. “You…I almost didn’t recognise you in that.” Smiling faintly, he gestured to a waiter. “You don’t look at all like yourself, but you are pretty.”
   The waiter bowed again, his nose almost knocking his knees.
   “I’ll have the same that she is,” Severus ordered curtly, and it arrived in less than two minutes.
   “You know, I must say, that dress of yours does get us quite decent service.”
   “Yes,” Lily nodded, picking at the macaroon. “That’s partly why I wore it.” She lowered her voice. “Is anyone near us?”
   “No,” Severus replied, in the same subdued tone. “Not as far as I can tell. What-well, what did you find out?”
   “We sound like we’re conspiring to throw a country into war,” Lily remarked dryly. “Well, James couldn’t get a retraction, and they’re not letting him form another mission. He said something about an idiot in the Department of Mysteries.”
   “What idiot?” Severus asked quietly, stroking his chin.
   “I don’t remember. I can ask him, though, if you think it’s important.”
   He made a deprecating gesture. “No, not really. I just remember-about two months ago, I heard Lucius Malfoy say something about the Department of Mysteries…well, I was just wondering.”
   “According to James, the man he was talking about was too much of a senseless git to walk without stumbling over his own feet,” Lily said lightly. “I doubt if Tom would want anyone like that in his company.”
   “I’ve still got to get used to your calling him ‘Tom’,” Severus admitted. “For us, it’s ‘Lord Voldemort’ or else.”
   “Yes; picky, isn’t he?”
   “Oh; just a little, not much.” Severus took a swallow of the iced coffee. “He performed the Cruciatus curse on Macnair last meeting-the man was assigned to attack a Muggle-born family along with Alden Wash, but Wash was killed.”
   “What?” It was very infrequent that a Death Eater was murdered during any of the raids, and Lily’s attention had perked. “What happened?”
   “Alastor Moody,” Severus explained. “Somehow, he got into Macnair’s papers at the Ministry, and he found something…Macnair works for the Committee of the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures-he’s a head of the department. Anyway, it was nothing to incriminate Macnair, and Moody didn’t find Macnair at the house of the Muggle-borns, but he got there before anything had happened.”
   “I didn’t know Moody used the Killing Curse,” Lily said disapprovingly. “I know Barty Crouch’s been trying to get permission for the Aurors to use them, but I thought Moody was above that.”
   “He is,” Severus said, with a hint of respect in his tone. “He just used a very strong Shield Charm, and the curse was deflected back at Wash.” He shrugged. “It was the angle that Wash was standing at. If he’d managed to stand about three inches to the right, the curse would have bounced off in a completely different direction, but-well, good riddance, I say.”
   “You are a very hard-hearted man,” Lily smiled, tossing her head. “If you ever had anything to do with children, I’d fear for them. Once I got over the surprise, I suppose.”
   “Surprise?”
   “You aren’t the kind of person that loves children. Then, neither am I, come to that.” Finishing off the macaroon, she dusted off her hands.
   “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you why you don’t like children,” Severus commented lightly. “Is it because of yours and your sister’s bonding magic, or something else?”
   Lily snorted. “No; that’s actually farthest from my mind.” Her forehead cleared, and she shrugged, playing with the stem of her glass. “I can’t live with the feeling of being tied down-and children are clinging; you can’t very well get rid of them when you’re tired of them. They-“ She paused. “They’re like the bars of a cage, and-“
   “And you would do about as well in a cage as a tiger would in a gopher hole.”
   “Yes.” She smiled faintly. “I suppose I’m grateful to Tom for preventing our having children.” The smile disappeared, along with the last rays of a pinkish sun. “James hates it, though. He loves the Weasley children, and I know he wants as many as they have. Molly has Bill, and Charlie, and the twins…”
   “And they’re going to be dirt poor by the time they’re fifty,” Severus said disparagingly. “I don’t like Arthur Weasley.”
   “You don’t like anybody, it seems.”
   He looked up at her, opened his mouth, then closed it abruptly. Standing up, he drained his glass and nodded to her. “I’d better be going.”
   Reaching inside his robes, he pulled out a few Sickles, but Lily shook her head. “I’m the wealthy one here; let me pay.”
   “I invited you.”
   “Yes, but I like flinging around coins,” she smiled. “Go on; I’m staying here for a while.”
   “Goodbye, then,” he nodded, dematerializing before she could reply.
   Lily remained at the café for about a quarter of an hour, lounging elegantly in the cushioned iron chair, before rising, tossing a Galleon onto the table, and telling the waiter to keep the change.
   James returned home at one in the morning, smelling like seawater, and in one of the best moods he had been in for a long time. Sirius had gone a bit more than overboard; among may other things, the two had sneaked onto the practice field of the Appleby Arrows, one of England’s League teams, nicked two of the brooms and a set of Quidditch balls, and played one-on-one until a caretaker had come out of his house and started waving a Self-Shrieking Whistle while shouting something in the area of “Death Eaters! Death Eaters! Run fer yer lives!”
   After that triumph-or fiasco, depending on the point of view, Sirius had generously handed his motorcycle to James after teaching him to skim ocean waves with the wheels, but the motorcycle drove directly through an extremely high wave, and, to the music of Sirius’ laughter, James spluttered ashore, the motorcycle making a few figure-eights before returning.
   They visited a wizarding candy store and a Muggle cinema afterwards, setting out trays in front of the movie theatre filled with Ice Mice, Pepper Imps, Fizzing Whizbees, and Acid Pops. About two hours were pleasantly filled by listening to squeaks, shrieks, chattering teeth, cries for water, and yelps consisting of: “Put me down! Put me down now! MUMMY!” and the like.
   Lily suspected that they only told her about half of their escapades, but, with an order for both of them to take baths, she had Slenka bring out a large chocolate cake, which the two gleefully dug into once they were out of the bathrooms.
   “Say, this does beat all,” Sirius mumbled, nodding at Lily approvingly. “Wonderful house-elf, that one.”
   “You know,” Lily said, amused, poking a bit of cake into her mouth, along with a crumbled Chocolate Frog, “you’d think that you two would be stuffed after all that candy you bought.”
   “Oh, that.” James waved a hand dismissively. “Those Muggles acted as if they hadn’t eaten for weeks. It was a rather large crowd at that cinema…say, you want an Ice Mouse?”
   “Thank you,” Lily accepted, setting the wide-eyed bit of candy on top of her piece of cake. “How much do you have left?”
   “Not much, actually. About a dozen Whizbees…let’s see. Yes. Twelve Whizbees, two Pepper Imps, six Ice Mice, and three Acid Pops. And two dozen Frogs, which we didn’t give to the Muggles because of the moving pictures…here, have a Chocolate Frog.”
   “You’d also think,” Lily murmured, continuing a train of thought, “that you two would be tired of this prankster mess by now.”
   Sirius looked rather insulted at that. “For Pete’s sake, Lily, we’re only twenty! That doesn’t mean we have to play ostrich, does it?”
   “I don’t mean that you necessarily have to bury your heads in the sand; I was just wondering,” she clarified, popping the Ice Mouse into her mouth.
   “That is absolutely ridiculous,” James snorted. “Why on earth anyone would want to act like he couldn’t move from a wheelchair I can’t imagine. I found it most unentertaining when I was in a wheelchair.”
   They would have continued the conversation, but had to break it off, laughing, when Lily’s teeth started to chirp and squeak, chattering freely.
   However, the next morning, the Daily Prophet held several announcements, proclaiming the deaths of five Muggle families and four wizarding ones that had taken place on the past night. There were photographs of all seven houses, each with the Dark Mark floating eerily in the sky above them, and at times seeming about to laugh.
   Lily visited the apothecary that afternoon for a potions-making kit, a bit more advanced than the one she had used in Hogwarts, and she had pulled on a black cloak over dark green robes-it had been the first thing that she had touched while rooting around in her closet, and she had thought nothing of the colors. But a woman with two children scooted quickly away from her as she was walking by Quality Quidditch Supplies, two middle-aged men in the Leaky Cauldron pointed at her, whispering, and the owner of the apothecary seemed only to glad to have her walk out of the store. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and Lily was relieved to return home.
   James didn’t get home until nine, and when he did, he had an announcement.
   “Lily, remember that you said that the Ministry could always call on you for help in the field?”
   Lily had been converting a walk-in closet into a potion-making room, and at that sentence, the box she was trying to slip on a top shelf fell onto her head.
   “What?”
   “They told me they might need you,” James said soberly. “Didn’t tell me when, or for how long, but they did say that you’d be in demand.” Picking up the box from the floor, he handed it to her. “You remember how impressed they were after the Durmstrang results.”
   “Yes,” Lily sighed. “All right. You don’t mind?”
   He laughed bitterly. “I can’t mind. You’re a talented witch, and they need you-the families out there need you. They need all of us. Of course I mind, but we’ve both pretty much got to.”
   Stepping down from the stool, Lily hugged him gently. “Think of it as an adventure.”
   ”You think of everything as an adventure,” he muttered, somewhat mollified, as he kissed her. “Especially the most dangerous things that can happen. If you’re fighting in the field, it’ll make no difference whether you’re protected by You-Know-Who or not; it’s doubtful whether the Death Eaters’ll be able to see you that well. Besides, I doubt that they know what you look like.”
   “You-Know-Who?” Lily was on the verge of laughter. “What new trend is that?”
   “Oh.” James turned rather pink. “There was a lady in today, reporting something she had heard a man say on the streets, and she shuddered every time I mentioned the name ‘Voldemort’. Finally asked me to call him ‘You-Know-Who’-it’s a sort of craze that’s spread itself around the Ministry since I was shot, I guess. I’ve heard Ludo Bagman say that once or twice, but Bagman’s a prat.”
   “Hm.”
   “What, ‘hm’?”
   “Nothing.” Lily shook her head. “Tom is going to be delighted when he hears this.”
   “Oh, wonderful,” James snorted. “Let me guess: this has been his aim from the time he was three?”
   “Well, not three precisely,” Lily evaded. “Let’s say that he had the general idea in mind.”
   “This man is insane,” James sighed. “No, scratch that. This thing is insane.”
   Lily shook her head twice, quickly. “He is just as much a human being as you or I.”
   “Except with about seventeen thousand murders under his belt.” James scowled. “Actually, that set aside, you’re taking a horrible risk, doing what the Ministry wants you to.”
   “I’m taking the same risk that everyone else is,” Lily said quietly. “There’s no reason why I should be special.”
   “Hrmph,” James snorted. “To at least two people, you are definitely more than special.”
   “Two people?” Lily asked quizzically, the ghost of a smile on her face. “Why two?”
   “If you’ve forgotten about Snape, I’m going to Apparate to his apartment just for the joy of laughing in his overly deformed face that he’s not important enough to you for you to remember him.”
   “Oh,” Lily’s face fell. “I was hoping he’d forgotten, actually…he never says anything like that. He…well, he acts like a very close friend, but that’s all, so…”
   “You are notoriously horrible in noticing when anyone is attracted to you,” James said incredulously, staring at her from an arm’s length away. “Of course he acts like a good friend. He knows all too well that I’ve got a very good left hook.”
   Lily blushed, stepping back towards the jars that needed to be set on the shelves. “That might have been Hogwarts, yes, but-“
   “Don’t give me that,” he snorted. “The only reason he’s not trying to spy on what I’m doing for the Ministry is because it’s rather likely that we’d find out, and it’s doubtful whether you’d speak to him after that.”
   “That’s ridiculous. He hates what he’s doing for Tom.”
   “Hrmph.”
   Annoyed, Lily folded her arms. “He does. And if he still liked me, then the reason he doesn’t show it is because he’s something of a gentleman.”
   “If he still likes you-He almost blew the roof of the Leaky Cauldron off when Sirius confronted him about it!”
   “Stop it.”
   “Gentlemen are usually not known for being in the running for 'How Long Can I Not Wash My Hair And Still Dare To Walk The Streets', either.”
   “James, please, stop!”
   “All right, all right.” James grinned. “I’ll stop.” His expression grew serious. “We’ve got more important things to worry about; I agree.”
   “Yes. When does the Ministry want me to check in-well, when will you know if they will need me?”
   “They said ‘by August 28th’, which is quite some time away.” He sighed. “But time does fly, and in this case, it’ll fly on Sirius’ motorbike on the highest speed. Need some help with those jars?”
   “Yes…thank you.” Lily pointed to one corner of the closet. “Over there is where the fresh shrivelfigs go-I’ve got to stew several, so put an empty jar next to that one.”
   “You are much to organized,” James said with a mixture of respect and distaste. “What’s for dinner?”
   “You may go look,” Lily said with an air of dignity. “I will commence setting up our Potions room by myself, then.”
   However, by nine o’clock, both of them had been setting up the closet until they were heartily sick of the smell, and Peter provided for a welcome distraction when he cautiously knocked at the door of the closet, out of which several odd grunts were issuing. The grunts were mostly James’; he was trying to lift a large box off of his stomach-somehow, he had managed to place it there-but the snorts and giggles were Lily’s, who was watching his feet wriggle helplessly under a well-placed Tarantarallegra curse.
   Even though the Ministry employees were working double time, they couldn’t erase the extra panic attack that had hit the wizarding world. At almost every popular Flooing point-the Leaky Cauldron was one-the Ministry had posted two goblins, each carrying a large club. The goblins were under orders to question anyone they found suspicious, and, if there was any hint of possible revolting on the questionee’s part, to take them to a specialized wing of the Ministry of Magic immediately. At any report that was filed to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, three Aurors were sent out to investigate, instead of the usual single clerk.
   There were many other elaborate security measures taken, but they hardly helped the alarm. Even the Daily Prophet had taken to calling Lord Voldemort ‘You-Know-Who’ and ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’, and Lily had been walking down Diagon Alley, talking to James, and he had said the word ‘Voldemort’-the reaction within hearing range was worthy of a film. Several small yelps were heard, people drew back on every side, and children were scooped up quickly into arms, their parents whisking them into shops.
   And, to the Ministry’s dismay, two more attacks on Muggle families were revealed only two days after the one that killed seven families. At least twenty-five Muggles had to be visited by Obliviators, and people hardly walked the streets any more. Formerly, it might have been an attack on a single family per fortnight-possibly one for every week at the most. But this-
   Seven families in a night, and two more two days later. Nine families in three days-forty-one people, slaughtered, without a sign of remorse. The agencies specializing in protective charms set up around houses had their orders doubled, and the witches that usually went shopping for food three times a week limited that to one, and they would leave their children in the care of a neighbor, no matter how old the children were.
   One of the final straws, however, landed on a fine, bright August evening; the ninth. Seven of the Aurors, including James, had decided to go for a drink in a tavern in Kingston; they had been invited there by one of the Heads in the department, who had declared robustly that that particular pub carried the best drinks in England. James had Apparated home shortly to tell Lily where he was going to be, and he found her in the kitchen, making a mess of a pie crust.
   “Lily, I’ve been invited to Kingston, to a pub. We’re having some drinks, that’s all; do you mind?”
   Lily wiped the flour off of her cheek, managing to spread it on her nose instead. “I suppose I do mind, but go ahead; have fun.” She grinned. “Be back by nine, though.”
   “You sound like a governess.” He kissed her, then pulled back and wrinkled his nose. “Blech. Flour.”
   “Here, I’ll get it.” Slipping her hand inside her sleeve, she dabbed at his cheek. “There. Flour gone. James in most respectable state to visit tavern.”
   “All right. See you at nine with dinner?”
   “See you at nine with dinner,” Lily agreed. “Don’t stuff yourself while you’re there, then.”
   “Will do!” With a click of his heels, he Disapparated, leaving Lily to her pie crust, which she promptly upset with a swish of her arm.
   The tavern was admittedly better than the Leaky Cauldron or the Three Broomsticks, but the prices were infinitely higher, and even James found himself rather relieved that someone else was paying. It was a rather nice place, though-decorative wood beams on the ceiling and walls, several paintings hung here and there, and white Dirt-Repelling Tablecloths on each table.
   At a quarter to nine, James stood up, finishing the last of his drink. “I’ll see you folks Monday, then,” he grinned, setting the mug back on the table.
   “Monday?” an indignant face spouted. “You’re not staying?”
   “I promised Lily I’d be home by nine,” he shrugged.
   “Oh, tied to your wife’s apron strings, are we?”
   “Yeah,” James said, without a bit of embarrassment. “See you.”
   He Disapparated, leaving them to grumble and immediately forget all about him as the next joke was told.
   Lily was putting the flour back in the cabinet as she heard a voice in the entrance hall.
   “I’m home!” James shouted cheerfully, hanging up his cloak and stepping into the kitchen. “On time, too.”
   “Congratulations.” She kissed him. “Dinner in about five minutes.”
   “Good. Is anyone else going to be here?”
   A sprightly face leaned around the door to the dining room. “Someone else is already here,” Sirius grinned, “and with a head start, too!”
   Lily spun around immediately. “Sirius Black, what have you been snitching?”
   He laughed. “Joke. I’m still starving. James, how was the famous tavern?”
   “Price-wise or drinks-wise?” James grinned, joining Sirius in the dining room, where several covered dishes were sitting, more of a temptation than anything else had been that evening.
   The next morning, after breakfast, Lily and James were plundering the library. Lily had sworn that she had buried 150 Extremely Rare and Unknown Potions by Bruce Bengleman somewhere on the bookshelves, and she had enlisted James’ help. It was a Sunday, so both of them were still in pajamas, though Lily had additionally thrown on her green dressing gown.
   With a squawk, a tawny barn own pecked at the large library window, a newspaper in its beak.
   “Get that, please, would you?” Lily asked, her face buried in a shelf on plants. Good-naturedly dropping a stack of books to the floor, encouraging a “Hey!” from Lily, James swung the window open.
   Paying the owl and closing the window after it, James unfolded the Daily Prophet, freezing as the headline caught his eyes.
   “Anything good in there?” Lily said absently, trying to keep herself from opening a novel she hadn’t been able to find for a few weeks.
   There was silence from his direction, and, curiously, she set down the book. “What’s wrong?”
   “Another attack,” James said curtly. “Six.”
   Lily’s good-natured expression vanished. “Six families?” Quickly, she climbed down from the ladder she had been using, stepping towards the library desk, where the newspaper was lying.
   “Nope. Six Aurors.”
   His words stopped her as evenly as if someone had dropped a wall in front of her. “What”
   James threw the Daily Prophet over to her. “Murdered at a tavern in Kingston.”
   Lily had begun reading the article, but looked up sharply at that. “Wasn’t that where you were last night?”
   “Oh, yes, I was at a tavern in Kingston,” James said bitterly. “Yeah, I was there.”
   Picking up the newspaper again, Lily commenced reading.
   At eleven o’clock on the evening of August ninth, writes Bertram Grubbs, Reporter, in the tavern of the Swaggering Dragon, six Aurors sitting at one table were the last to finish up their drinks. However, seven cloaked and hooded figures entered the tavern and overpowered every one of the well-trained men, killing all six as well as the bartender. One waitress, who wished to remain unnamed, managed to escape out of the back door before she was seen, remaining the only survivor of that night.
   Is this another attack by the feared rising Dark Lord? The Daily Prophet staff agrees with the waitress on this point, as the attackers waited until the usual crowd of up to fifty had left the tavern and they made use of one of the three Unforgivable Curses, those three being the Killing Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Imperius Curse, all Dark Magic of a most advanced kind.
   The Aurors that were murdered shall for ever remain in our memory, and their families will remain in our hearts and our generosity: Otto Ackerly, Flavius Bole, Rudolf Branstone, Bert Finnigan, Gulliver Pennifold, and Peter Prang. We-“
   Lily slammed the paper onto the desk. “I hate this.”
   ”Yeah, I know,” James muttered. “I’ll be going in to work today, then.”
   “Be careful.”
   “I will,” he promised. “Say, could you get Slenka to make up a sandwich or something?”