Proving Me Wrong

PROVING ME WRONG

LAST CHAPTER:-

"It's not real. I imagined it. I'm blaming a house-elf for Merlin's sake."

Biting back frustrated tears, Lily proceeded to make her rounds of the castle.

CHAPTER 15

" The Calm before the Storm"

The Monday morning three days before Halloween dawned pale and blustery. The winds whistling through the castle drowned out teachers' voices and sent windowpanes rattling and candles and fires sputtering.

James Potter and Lily Evans were huddled close to their steaming cauldron in NEWT Potions, where seventh years were attempting to concoct a Draught of Peace from memory.

"Not again," Lily muttered as the feeble crackling petered out.

"I'll do it-" began James, lifting his wand off the table.

"No, it's okay...I will," she replied, crouching down to rekindle the flames for the third time.

James reluctantly replaced his wand. He gave her a sideways glance as she stooped over, waiting for the flicker of pain to cross her face. She clutched her ribs and masked a sharp intake of breath with a loud cough.

Lily straightened up and without meeting James's eyes said, "I'll go get the boomslang skin."

She bustled over to the student store cupboard and proceeded to rummage through the contents, squinting to read the labels in the dim light.

James stirred the potion clockwise then anticlockwise, and was pleased to see it turning a silver grey colour. Looking around the room he spotted Snape at the professor's desk, already handing up his completed draught. He returned to his seat, producing a large leather-bound book, and through his curtains of greasy black hair pored over the pages with such fervour that James thought he might be sick.

A few weeks ago Snape had implied that James was carrying on with Lily Evans, and James almost murdered him for it. And then what had old Snivellus done?

Laughed.

James didn't know what Snape had found to his liking, but it could mean nothing good for him or for Lily.

The newly forged friendship between Lily Evans and James Potter was still a great mystery to the most of the school. "Didn't he try to murder her or something?" had become a frequently asked question in recent weeks, and although there were still those who believed the Daily Prophet article, they were very much in the minority. Most of the older and wiser students had gotten over the shock of seeing the two enemies together, and simply put it down to the old 'Heads curse', saying that they all should have seen it coming.

Lily and James ignored the rumours of their love/hate relationship. In fact, Lily and James ignored quite a lot of things; for instance, they never so much as mentioned what James had seen in their first week back, or the conversation that followed in the trophy room. Lily had pointedly told him that she was going straight into Auror training after she finished Hogwarts, and so would be living in the trainees' accommodation somewhere in Kent. James realised only a few days ago that that conversation was her way of reassuring him that she would not be going home again, so he should forget about it.

Hanging about with Lily wasn't the cruel and unusual punishment James had always thought it would be. Outside school hours, they both had responsibilities like Quidditch and Charms club, so the chance meetings they had in their common room were quite rare, but not unwelcome. James had come to realise that there was so much he didn't know about the muggle world, and regretted giving up Muggle Studies after Lily told him about the 'Postman'; a bizarre creature that Lily herself could not even describe (as her post came very early), who delivered letters, and had a strange enmity with dogs. Following James's hesitant acceptance that the Postman actually existed, and was not 'real' in the sense that Father Christmas was real, he was appalled to discover that Lily was quite ignorant of the glorious wizarding sport that was Quidditch, and by the time they finished their rounds that evening, he had turned her into an expert.

The class was now shrouded with silver vapour issuing from the cauldrons and James looked over to see where Lily was. Through the mist he saw she was still at the store cupboard, chatting to someone, the boomslang skin in her hand.

A bark of laughter rang through the dungeon, and James realised what he was seeing.

what the hell does he think he's doing?

Sirius Black was talking to Lily Evans.

James felt his face flush with anger as he watched.

He was talking to her like he was her friend.

And she was smiling.

James pushed his chair back roughly, beginning to rise from his seat, but the scraping of the wood on stone seemed to have jolted Lily, as she suddenly broke off the conversation and hurried back over to their cauldron.

"Did you remember to stir it?" she asked anxiously.

He nodded in assent, biting back the desire to ask her what Sirius wanted. He stared at a point over Lily's left shoulder, where a tired looking Remus was trying to revive Peter, who had breathed in the fumes of his extra concentrated Draught of Peace and was now at risk of falling into an irreversible sleep. Sirius looked over the scene with apparent boredom, but still helped by unwrapping bars of chocolate (of which Remus kept large stores) and then shoving them into the chubby boy's mouth.

Lily pursed her lips, guessing what had his attention. "He apologised to me, you know."

James cursed, shaking his head.

Shrugging, she said, "Don't see the point in holding grudges." She added the slimy boomslang to the potion. "I mean, I can't remember anything, it's not like I've got any lasting injuries, and besides," James shifted in his seat when she turned to look at him, "It's not even his fault, really."

He was about to argue but she cut him off. "He didn't push me James, and despite popular belief, neither did you. I fell. End of story."

She finished scrubbing down the table and hastily filled a vial. She pushed it into his hands just as the bell rang and began throwing books haphazardly into the cauldron.

James labelled the potion with their initials, 'J.P & L.E' and left it up to the teacher's desk.

He caught up with Lily struggling on the stairs, where he was still receiving a wide berth. Lifting the heavy cauldron out of her hands and swinging it easily over his shoulder he asked, "What's the rush?"

Lily stopped frowning at him for taking the cauldron, and her face broke into a grin. "We're in Charms now."

James laughed at her expression, and after rolling his eyes, started running to keep up.

When they arrived at the classroom, Lily started to make her way to the front, but James refused point blank to sit beside the teacher, and after a battle of wills, Lily gave in and allowed James to lead her down to his normal seat at the very back of the room.

"Today," squeaked Professor Flitwick from atop his pile of cushions, "we will be taking your O.W.L knowledge of growth charms, and advancing it to N.E.W.T level in aging charms."

He demonstrated the charm on a baby kneazle (a knitten) that was sitting on his desk. The kneazle rapidly increased in size, its fur lengthening and becoming glossier and finer up until a point when it was clearly in its prime. Then the speckled brown hue began to dull, and the fur became matted and straggly and its outsize ears drooped. The old kneazle looked up at the teacher with a menacing expression on its face, an expression which clearly said, "Turn me back now, or else." With a tap of his wand Flitwick quickly returned the feline to its normal appearance.

Soon the classroom was buzzing with activity. There were cried incantations, hoots of glee as people stared at their friends in middle age, and loud clunks as the few very elderly students dropped off to sleep, slumping over their desks and snoring into their beards.

"Try again," she said in a frustrated tone.

James sighed and performed the charm.

Lily closed her eyes, willing it to work. She felt her arms and legs lengthening, her auburn hair thickening, and faint lines began appearing on her face...

Suddenly, the feeling stopped.

Her eyes snapped open, and gave James a questioning look.

"I swear I'm doing it right, it's just not working." He pulled a cracked rectangular mirror out of his pocket, and showed it to Lily. "The charm goes alright at first, and then it just seems to die off."

Lily took the mirror, amazed at how vain James must be to carry this thing around with him, and stared at the reflection looking back at her.

There wasn't that much difference. She had laughter lines around her mouth, and her green eyes looked a bit weary, but she couldn't be more than twenty at the most.

Frowning, she sat it down beside her and picked up her wand. "I'll have a go then, I'm better at Charms than you anyway." Spotting the look on his face she quickly added, "But you're far better than me in Transfiguration."

James grinned at the compliment.

Lily pointed her wand at him and muttered the spell.

His face began to change slightly, with stubble appearing on his chin and bags under his eyes. His wild mess of black hair calmed down slightly too before-

"What are we doing wrong?"

James cocked an eyebrow. "It stopped?" He asked incredulously.

Lily nodded, totally nonplussed. "I'll have to ask Flitwick about it."

He grabbed the mirror of the desk and let out a breath of air as he saw his face. "A bit worse for wear, aren't I?" he said, glancing up at Lily.

He peered at the creases round his eyes. "If this is what I'll look like in a few years time, what am I going to be like at forty?" cried James with exaggerated dismay.

Lily thought he was being serious, until she saw the corners of his mouth twitching.

She laughed. "You? What about me?" She pulled out a few strands of hair. "I'm going grey already!"

James snorted and a few minutes later was in hysterics as Lily continued to shriek in mock horror about her appearance ("I look like a hag! I'll be using anti-wrinkle potion before I'm even of age!"), reminding him worryingly of every girlfriend he'd ever had.

Holding his sides, James looked up at her. At his stare she stopped.

"What?" she asked him with a bemused smile, the laughter still in her voice.

He shook his head, "Nothing."

Trying to ignore the odd look he was giving her, Lily began to pack away her books.

Strange, he reflected, I tormented her for six years and now she's the only friend I've got.

***

It was after eight o'clock on Tuesday evening, when the meeting in the Slytherin changing room finally got underway.

A thin, nervous-looking boy of about sixteen darted around the room, locking doors and putting imperturbable charms on the walls, ceiling, and floor. He gave a satisfied nod to the girl at the front of the room, and sat down on a bench with the others.

The air was thick with fearful anticipation; the twenty or so teenagers kept glancing at each other, but looking quickly away when they made eye contact.

The girl leaning against the wall at the front of the room straightened up and strode forward. Nobody seemed to be breathing anymore and every eye was on her.

Surveying them all through her hooded eyes, she began to speak.

"You know why you are here." Her raspy voice echoed off the tiled walls.

"He knows who is faithful to him here, the Dark Lord always knows."

A person to her right shifted in their seat, and Bellatrix whipped around to look at them.

"Stand up." She snapped.

Willy Widdershins got clumsily to his feet, and although his lanky frame towered over the girl, he quailed under her glare.

She turned to the rest of them, a cruel smile on her face. "Look everyone, there's a Hufflepuff in our midst."

The few Slytherins with enough confidence laughed appreciatively while those from other houses seemed to shrink where they sat, everything that could be hurt drawn in.

"Are you afraid of the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix hissed at the boy. He seemed to decide after a few seconds that nodding would be the safest reply, so he did.

Not taking her eyes off Willy, she addressed them all. "You should all fear him! His power is unparalleled! But as servants of the Dark Lord, we can share in that power!"

She walked to the middle of the room, rolling up her sleeves to reveal a black tattoo on her left forearm. Withdrawing her wand from a pocket in her robes, she motioned for a few others to do the same.

They stood beside her in the centre; the thin, twitchy boy was Rabastan Lestrange; next to him was Severus Snape, wearing a very ugly expression as he twirled his wand between his pale fingers; then there was Avery, a stocky young man who was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, staring hungrily at the assembled students; finally there was a haughty-looking boy with black hair and grey eyes. He seemed much younger than the rest of them and was biting the inside of his cheek, trying to look as menacing as the others.

"Time for a little test," said Bellatrix, the cruel amusement apparent in her face. She stood in front of a seated girl who looked like she was about to be sick. The other four did the same, each positioning themselves before a fellow classmate.

Bellatrix raised her wand and pointed it between the girl's eyes, which were now wide with fear. The Slytherin boys followed suit.

If there was anyone sitting down who was not in a state of panic by now, they may have noticed that the Death Eaters' eyes were not trained on the people before them, but rather on the dozen other students in the room.

"Now don't move," Bellatrix whispered gently to her captive and to the room at large.

"This won't hurt a bit."

She took a huge breath and had only made the 'CR' sound of "CRUCIO" when several people bolted for the door.

The five Slytherins all turned as one to face the group trying to escape. They were clustered at the door, realising too late that they were cornered, and that they had failed the test.

"Stupefy!" the Death Eaters roared at them, and the teenagers immediately collapsed in a heap.

Bellatrix gave a triumphant shriek, and clapped her hands together, momentarily lost in her own sick pleasure. When she pulled herself together a minute later, she nodded to Regulus and Avery who levitated the bodies into the showers where they would be left until the end of the meeting.

The girl who had been sitting in front of Bellatrix was gulping down air and smiling weakly to herself. Snape noticed this and bending down he hissed coldly in her ear.

"You do realise that if no one had tried to run, she would have done it. Be thankful that your friends are cowards."