What Connected Us All

Desire

There is something to be said for those houses owned by dark wizards: they are very cleverly built. The Black mansion is riddled with secrets just waiting to be discovered. It excites Farren, who has always had a certain weakness for adventure and novelty. She is deeply engrossed by the many books found from within Sirius's quarters pertaining to the anamagi form.

Since Farren had first learned of the possibility of anamagi year ago, she had tried desperately to master it. But always was a part which she would fall short on: the final stage. It would seem that stage, unlike the advanced Transfiguration McGonagall had taught her in their after school practices, could not be learned.

"Farren, these things take time. You can't just snap your fingers and get it. You'll eventually understand, but that has to come on its own. If forced this can have dire consequences," Sirius tells her every time she pesters him.

"Just - one more time - explain to me precisely what it entails."

He sighs tiredly. "You have to be in the right mind set. You think of who you are, of what it is that defines you. Then - and this is the hard part - you convince yourself to believe the body you are in is nothing more than a vessel for your soul. It is true that physical appearance may have helped shaped you in some way before, but in that moment it is simply a vessel. Something easily morphed or changed, while you still maintain a sense of self."

Farren makes disgruntled sound. "You sound like a bloody after school special."

"Just be patient. Trust me, you'll get it soon enough."

Farren is many things. Patient isn't one of them.

Seeing her obvious unhappiness, Sirius opts for a change of subject. "Will Lily be coming tonight for Christmas?"

Farren had been keeping up a correspondence with Lily throughout the break. She is amazed at how much they connected, how easily they slipped into a friendship. And the friendship is different than what she has with Celia. Lily is an equal to Farren. Celia is almost a project, someone to improve.

"Yes. I convinced her James would maintain a distance of ten feet at all times."

He gives her a look. "Ren, you know James couldn't hold that promise in a million years."

She rises from his lap to inspect the reflection in the mirror. As she had warned Sirius in the train, Farren's hair is a mane of disarrayed curls. "Yes, but I think we can manage to keep James's arrogance to a respectable level for just one night."

"Watch it," he warns. "You know he's my best mate."

"Indeed, and he's my friend as well. But you cannot deny he's a total prat around Lily."

Sirius remains silent, knowing an objection would be petty.

"So I have a plan to fill the boy up with so much booze that he forgets he's even talking to Lily Evans, the love of his life. Then Evans will see the real James, realize he isn't all that bad, and they'll ride happily off into the sunset."

Farren waits, certain Sirius will praise her brilliant plan. But instead he only looks moderately puzzled by her. "Why are you doing all this?"

She smiles and knows it makes her look ten years younger than she really is. "Because I can. Now show me where your parents stash the rum."

They spend the rest of the day preparing for the party. Somehow Sirius finds a way to make putting up Christmas Angels into a sexual affaire. He would press himself against her from behind, encasing her in the warmth of his body and over-coat. And then he'd lightly press his lips to her neck. This, of course, distracts Farren several times, and the decorations take much longer than they should have. She reprimands him for this.

But after Farren tames her hair as best she can, and puts on a simple red dress, they are ready. The first marauder to arrive is exactly on time. Peter compliments the decorations, and says generic things he knows will not get him in trouble. Farren is struck dumb by how frightfully dull the boy really is.

To cure her boredom she brings Peter up to the horrid display of house-elf heads on the wall. She watches as his face winces in disgust at the sight and smell.

"What do you think of them?" she inquires.

He jumps at being addressed. Then his watery gaze searches frantically for the right answer to please Farren. "They are... l-lovely," he sputters.

"You think so? Hmm. I suppose, for me personally, the image of their decapitated and rotting corpses lying around somewhere sort of detracts from their loveliness--"

"Always cracking jokes," Sirius says to Peter with a forced chuckle, pulling her aside in a vice grip. "Play nice, Ren. The poor kid looks like he's about to wet himself."

Farren smirks. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The door bell rings just then, and she slips away before he can speak again.

It is James, accompanied by Lupin. She initiates the plain immediately, hading them both drinks and taking one for herself. And by the time Lily shows up, Farren herself is feeling quite light-headed.

"Lily!" she exclaims, flinging her arms around the much taller girl. "I'm so happy you came."

"Gladly. I'd do anything to get out of that bleeding house." She steps inside, shaking the snow from her fiery hair. "Petunia has been especially horrid now that she's got a new boyfriend. She seems to think he's a real catch, though I personally can't determine which chin I should look at--"

"Woops," Farren says, giggling after she spills a little of her drink. "Sorry, love."

"Alright there?" Lily peers down at her friend bemusedly.

"Of course! Come on."

Farren pulls her through the entrance and into the room that houses the gigantic Christmas tree. Some presents are pilled haphazardly under it, and Lily adds a few more.

The Beatles (Farren's choice of music) are playing from the retro-style speakers. It is either the influence of alcohol, or the presence of her friends; but Farren feels a little giddy. And in a burst of that giddiness, she does surprisingly graceful and well-trained twirl from the tips of her toes.

"Where did you learn ballet?" Lily asks, watching as Farren does yet another pirouette.

"My father used to fancy the idea of me becoming his perfect, demure little doll. He made me take dance, piano, French, singing, and art lessons... Come to think of it he would even dress me like a doll."

This time the spin is a lot sloppier and Farren trips over her own feet, landing flat on her arse.

"Needless to say--" she rubs her bum "-- Papa gave up rather quickly. As Madam LeFarge would tell me," and Farren screws up her features in an imitation of the former French instructor, " 'Ze iz 'opeless!' "

Lily frowns a little. "Ren, that's completely depressing."

Farren, now slumped on the floor, smiles at the ceiling. "It's funny."

"You know, this muggle band of yours is quite good," Sirius says, joining her on the ground.

"I'd hope so, considering they're the biggest thing since Elvis Presley."

He knits his brow in confusion. "Who?" But he doesn't wait for an answer and continues, murmuring, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Very much."

"I'd like to give you your first present."

"First?" Farren asks. "As in more than one?"

He nods. "Two."

"You bastard, now I feel my gift's inferior."

They laugh. "Trust me, the first one is just as much for me as it is for you."

But as Farren reaches out a hand for the present, Sirius pulls away. "But first you need to promise me you'll be nicer to Peter."

She rolls her eyes. "I wasn't that bad..."

"Ren, you showed him a bunch of decapitated house-elves just to watch him squirm."

"Okay, okay" she says ungraciously. "I'll be... nice."

As she had suspected, the gift is lingerie. It is black lace, with dark blue satin bows. Though it is quite lovely, it appeared to push up breasts Farren cannot remember possessing.

"Putting this on will be my second present," she says, grinning. Then, spotting the tag, "Is this French?"

"Yeah, I imported it from France."

Her eyes widen. "But that must of cost a fortune."

Sirius shrugs. "I inherited loads of money in my sixth year--"

"Well don't waste it on me, you idiot!"

"Why are you so angry?"

"I'm not angry," and Farren smiles, realizing she had sounded quite harsh. "But you can spend your money on better things than buying me expensive lingerie. If you hate it here so much, why don't you get a new place?"

He considers this. "Do you really think I can get my own flat?"

"Of course. You are legally an adult now. You can do whatever the hell you want."

Sirius looks rather excited. "Do you know, I think I just might."

"Good, I'll help you look around while we're here." Then she smiles impishly again. "Now give me my other present."

James stumbles into them. "I'm pissed," he states.

"Yes, you are. And I think now's a good time to gather round the fire and exchange presents."

Farren calls everyone back. She notes happily that Lily is enjoying herself. The only issue is that she is talking to Lupin rather than James.

The minutes trickle by in an array of clichéd wrapping paper. There are a few gag gifts thrown into the real ones. Peter, to Lily's puzzlement, receives a wheel of cheese that no one claims to having sent.

"Who gave me this?" Lily asks, holding up a book entitled: Why I never felt at home: A Muggle-Born's Memoir.

James raises a tentative hand. "I did."

She looks momentarily astonished, then forces her face into neutrality. "Thank you," she says quietly, averting her eyes.

"Here we are. Present number two." Sirius handles the box in his hands awkwardly, as though the thing inside is very fragile.

She shoots him a suspicious glance. If Farren opens the box and a hundred pixies fly out, there would be hell to pay.

But a hundred pixies don't fly out. Instead a very tiny and furry bundle lies curled in one of the box's corners, asleep. It raises its delicate head, squinting a little.

It's a kitten.

Farren gasps, and cups the animal gently in her palm.

Sirius watches her apprehensively. It is clear he has high hopes for her gift. "She's a Kneazle. They're a lot like cats, except smarter. And they have spots. Do you see...?"

Yes, now she does see the black spots that give the animal the impression of a small cheetah.

Farren tears her eyes away to gaze speechlessly at Sirius. "I--I..."

He laughs. "Are you actually at a loss for words? Well this is historical!" But then his smile vanishes when her face contorts. "Ren?"

And then she cannot hold back any longer, and promptly bursts into tears. "This is the best gift anyone has ever given me," Farren sobs. She is immensely glad for the influence of alcohol, because how else could she explain this tomorrow?

"You are the strangest drunk I've ever met," Sirius mutters, shaking his head.

She laughs and soon enough, the tears dry up.

"What are you going to name her?"

There's only a moments hesitation. "Pandora." Then she brings the kitten close to her face. "Do you agree with that?"

She swipes playfully at Farren's nose, then licks it.

"You know the saying that owners will look like their pets?" James asks, stroking the creature gently. "Well she looks like you."

Pandora stomps around the floor, going to each member of the circle in turn. She generally has a good reaction. Purring for Lily, or rubbing her nose against Sirius's leg. But when she reaches Peter, the kitten's fur shoots up and she starts hissing madly.

"No, Pandora. That's not a nice thing to do." Farren scoops the still spitting cat into her arms, trying to suppress the grin when she remembers her promise to Sirius.

"You're right, James. She even acts like Ren." Lily says.

James looks comically pleased and surprised at being in agreement with Lily Evans for probably the first time in his life.

"Are you calling me a bitch?" Farren asks lightly.

"No, not generally. But you are quite... vocal."

Farren nods and shrugs.

Pandora takes an interest in her curls, and begins to chew on them. Everyone watches in silence. That is, all except for Lily, who is gazing at James with a slight crease between her eyes.

Farren has the urge to grab Lily and say, "Give in already!" But secretly she admires the girl's resistance. Farren had almost easily accepted the fate of her desire (or rather, her desires). She had recklessly fed her infatuation with Severus, and now here she is. Stuck. But then again she is also quite certain that, given the option, she would not have chosen differently. Even now, with him miles and miles away, Snape challenges her. Farren sees him in her minds-eye, with his head bowed slightly as he studied her closely, a single eye-brow raised. Go on, the imaginary Snape implores.

We all want so much. Sometimes Farren is struck by how much desire and yearning surrounds her. At how much is suppressed. And still everyone keeps up this silly pretense of indifference. The truth is that all of us - even the broken ones - want so fiercely that we feel as though we may go mad with the need.

Lily looks up and catches Farren watching. She feels a sudden thrill of horror as those penetrating green eyes give her silent messages.

Someone knows my secret. She has seen me vulnerable, powerless, young.

But then something connects in Farren's mind, a puzzle piece that slides into place.

And now I know her secret. Her desire.