Rising from Embers

RISING FROM EMBERS
by shiiki

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CHAPTER TWELVE

Rising Stronger

February through March, 1977

Madam Pomfrey said that she’d regain her sight – eventually, and she was taking six potions a day to heal her damaged nerves. In the meantime, Lily just had to put up with being blind. Those were Madam Pomfrey’s exact words: ‘I’m sorry, Miss Evans, but you’ll just have to put up with being blind for some time.’

It was a comforting thought to know that her condition was only temporary. But the pervasive darkness was extremely spirit-dampening. Eyes open or eyes closed, it didn’t make much of a difference to her – all she saw was black.

‘I’m honoured,’ Sirius was wont to say when she mentioned this.

Remus assured her, however, that they at least could see the difference when she moved her eyelids.

‘We can still see your eyes.’

‘But they’re kind of vacant,’ Peter pointed out matter-of-factly. ‘Like you’re not all there.’

Remus and Sirius took it upon them to clap a hand over his mouth and drag him out of the room – at least, that was what it sounded like.

‘They’re still beautiful,’ said James softly. ‘Pretty and green.’ He reached out and took her hand. It was these gestures Lily was most grateful for. Human contact, the sense of touch, was the one thing that made her feel connected to everyone else, now that she could see nothing.

The worst thing about blindness was the amount of time available for thinking. Lily wasn’t against retrospect in general, but when there seemed to be hours on hand just to mull over things that had already happened, it was more of trying to shut her mind against the barrage of memories that assaulted her.

She let some of them in, though. Happy thoughts, of her younger days with her family when they were children. Her first year at Hogwarts. Charms class, when she’d first levitated a feather. Laughing with Aura, before she had lost her. How James and Sirius had levitated water balloons over the Slytherins, drenching them with cold water – and, she suspected, other more viscous fluids.

They talked about past pranks when they visited her as a group – Sirius describing them with great gusto, James adding details here and there, Peter cutting in occasionally to refresh their memories about the finer aspects of their escapades, and Remus correcting them dryly when their exaggerations got too wild.

Sometimes they came alone. Remus read to her from Muggle novels, Sirius always had a scrumptious snack – he’d make her guess what it was before giving it to her – and a ready joke, Peter – well, he came alone once. He hadn’t really known what to say, so she’d asked him to get her a drink and he’d gratefully done so and continued to wait on her until James came along.

She had other visitors too – Alice and Dorcas and even students from the other houses, whom she knew only vaguely. All were cheery, brought gifts and sweets and wished Lily well, but made no mention of Hogsmeade. No one spoke about Hogsmeade. It was as though they’d reached an unspoken consensus not to discuss the attack – yet.

James was the one that didn’t do anything particularly special for her. And yet, did the most.

He asked her questions. About herself mostly – her life before Hogwarts, what she remembered about their first few years at Hogwarts …

And she told him. About old games she used to play with Petunia, visits to her Gran in Hampshire – which was where James lived, actually – when she was little, the first wandless magic she’d done, what it was like going to a Muggle school. James held her hand the whole time, and she almost thought she could feel his expressions. Once, he stayed until she fell asleep, like the first night – she supposed she was napping, since Madam Pomfrey hadn’t chased him away. It wasn’t as though she could tell the difference between night and day anyway. He was still there when she awoke, fingers entwined around hers.

‘You can take off the Cloak now, James,’ said Remus in amusement. ‘In fact, you’d better, before Madam Pomfrey comes in and finds a black head sticking out of nowhere.’

James moaned sleepily and let go of her hand. So it had been night, and he’d been under the Invisibility Cloak.

‘There’s a present for you, Lily,’ continued Remus cheerfully.

‘Oh?’

‘That’s right,’ said James, sounding very awake all of a sudden. ‘Where is it, Peter?’

‘The present is having a bit of trouble getting here without the Cloak, James,’ said Peter pointedly.

‘Oh – bugger I forgot – here, take it.’ There were sounds of an object being thrown across the room. Lily could hear footsteps leaving right after.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Er – we made something to explain it to you. You’ve got to read this,’ said James, thrusting what felt like a card into her hands.

‘James, I think you’re forgetting that I can’t exactly read.’

‘Don’t worry, just open the card and you’ll see,’ said Remus patiently.

Curious, Lily felt for the edges of the card and carefully opened it

‘Is this working?’ asked Sirius. Lily frowned. His voice sounded oddly distant.

‘Of course it’s working, get on with it, Padfoot!’ hissed James.

‘Oh. Right – er – hey, Lily, James is –’

There were muffled sounds of a scuffle in the background.

‘Okay, that’s the last time I let Sirius be the first to try something like this,’ said Remus. ‘Sorry, Lily. Well, you’ve probably guessed that this is supposed to be a talking card.’

‘Since you can’t read a normal one,’ called Peter helpfully. The squeal and banging noises that ensued suggested that he’d joined the tussle between James and Sirius.

‘Yes – er – well, this card is supposed to be the introduction to what we planned for you.’

‘I’d like to say now that it was my idea!’ Sirius cut in.

‘Stroke of brilliance, that was, Padfoot,’ snorted James. ‘How’d you like to get up, Lily, and get out of the hospital wing?’

‘With a guide, of course. I’m sure you’ve heard of guide animals – blind Muggles have them.’

Lily started as a very wet, moving thing was suddenly thrust into her hands. It sniffed at her and she realised it was an animal – a dog, to be specific. Slowly, she ran her hands over its ears in wonder.

‘Oh my God, I … I don’t know what to say, guys.’

‘Thank you?’ said Peter.

‘Thank you. I just – you got this dog for me?’

‘Ah – he’s actually borrowed,’ said Remus. ‘I’m afraid you won’t be able to keep him. But he can take you out for a walk.’

‘I think – I think I’d like that.’

‘Oh no you don’t! Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew! How in heaven you managed to sneak a great hulking animal like that in here I don’t know, but you will have him out now!’

‘Madam Pomfrey, couldn’t we at least take Lily out? It’s a guide dog! He’s perfectly sanitary!’

‘I don’t care if it’s a circus-performing dog, I want it out of my infirmary immediately!’

‘Madam Pomfrey,’ said Remus reasonably. ‘Muggles have guide dogs for blind people, it’s just a walk to get her out of here for a while, she can’t lie in bed all day long …’

‘Well – I –’ Madam Pomfrey had a soft spot for Remus.

‘Please, Madam Pomfrey?’ said Lily. ‘I won’t get into trouble.’

‘All right. Just for five minutes. Five minutes, I say – no more! And don’t bring that beast in again!’

But her voice was drowned out in cheers as James rushed forward to help Lily out of bed. The dog nuzzled her hang again.

‘His name is – er –’

‘Snuffles,’ said Remus.

‘Yeah, Snuffles,’ agreed James.

Snuffles made a noise that sounded like a whine and a snort combined. Lily rubbed behind his ears and he barked happily.

Peter handed her the leash, and Snuffles tugged on it, at the other end. Slowly, she moved forward, unsure of herself now that she was actually walking without seeing anything. Snuffles seemed to understand her fear, and he went at her pace, by her side.

‘Straight corridor, nothing in the way,’ said Remus gently. ‘Just trust him – and us.’

Lily nodded and tried to walk faster. They must have reached the end of the corridor, because Snuffles gave a jerk to the right. She turned to follow him. The others kept up a continuous chorus about their location – the corridor outside the hospital wing, opening up into the main hallway, near the marble staircase.

‘Where would you like to go, Lily?’ said James, when Snuffles stopped her from crashing into the stairs.

‘Oh, I can’t decide. It’s good enough to be out of bed after being in it for a week! Let’s see … how about the common room?’

‘Gryffindor Tower, it is, then,’ said Remus, a little dubious at the thought of all the stairs.

Snuffles barked confidently.

‘A flight of stairs, now, the marble staircase, you know,’ said James. ‘Watch your step, now.’

Cautiously, she lifted her foot and found the first step. Then the second. And the third. She went on, following the lead of her friend’s voices and Snuffles’s tugs on the leash.

‘Where’s Sirius, by the way?’ she asked, realising that Sirius’s voice had not been heard.

‘He’s – er –’

‘Working,’ said Remus calmly.

‘Working?’

‘To pay off Snuffles.’

‘Oh, remind me to thank him,’ said Lily.

‘I’m sure he already knows,’ said Peter cryptically.

They arrived at the common room and James gave the password, then helped Lily – practically lifting her off the ground – through the portrait hole.

The strange thing about losing one’s eyesight is that the other senses become keener. Though Lily could not see the details of the common room, it was delightful just to feel the warmth of the fire in the hearth heating up her skin, hear the coals crackle and footsteps pad on the carpet. She could even smell the scent of parchment – someone must be working at a table near them, because she could hear the scratching of a quill – perfume and wood.

She stood with her hand on Snuffles and breathed in deeply for a long time.

~ * ~

Drucilla Malfoy was expelled. The Malfoys had money and connections. But Dumbledore was adamant. She had intentionally used a curse against a fellow student which thereby almost resulted in the death of said student.

Lily didn’t know what to think of the matter. A rumour later passed around the school that there was more to Drucilla’s expulsion. Apparently (or so the rumours went), she had been involved in the orchestrating of the attack. How or even if this was possible no one was exactly sure.

Hogwarts held a memorial service for Zinnia Prewett, a week after her death. She’d died bravely, Professor Dumbledore had said. As a prefect, she’d helped to herd the other students back to the school.

She’d died running, thought Lily. It couldn’t have been what she’d wanted. And the sickening thought crossed her mind again: what if she’d stepped out, into the way of that curse?

Zinnia might be alive. She, Lily, might be dead.

‘All the prefects in Hogsmeade on that day, in fact,’ Dumbledore was saying, ‘should be commended. If not for their selfless thinking and quick action, it is likely that we would have lost more than a single student.’

Lily pictured herself back in the cave. She could see Zinnia running in, the green light that swiftly followed, herself putting up the shield charm, the light blasting through …

Her mind knew that she couldn’t possibly have done anything more.

But still, she couldn’t help thinking, What if?

Dumbledore was speaking about Zinnia again: ‘– a cherished friend, respected classmate, a role model; a brave and honest young witch who should not have perished so young. Let us now observe a moment of silence, in honour of Zinnia’s memory.’

Lily closed her eyes.

Forgive me, Zinnia, she thought silently.

~ * ~

Lily’s sight was improving. The pervading darkness finally gave way to a foggy grey. Madam Pomfrey was pleased; she announced that by the end of March, Lily would be able to see well enough to leave the hospital wing permanently. This sparked off a bit of a debate about whether blind people could study magic, until Remus pointed out that blindness wasn’t an incurable condition with modern magic, and that magical eyes had been available in place of lost real eyes for three decades.

As Remus was the only one of them who still took History of Magic (besides Peter, who didn’t argue), they took his word for it.

February passed in a whirl of voices and slowly lightening grey cloud. Her friends had taken to popping in at all times of the day. Lily had begun to learn how to tell the time just by hearing the voice that came through the door.

Morning was started with Madam Pomfrey bustling about. Sirius, always full of energy, which came out in his speech, was apt to drop by near lunch time. Remus’s voice carried a quiet calm, and he usually came round with Peter, Dorcas and Alice when the others were in Care of Magical Creatures.

Then there were her friends from other houses. Chris and Stella came infrequently, it was true, but it was comforting to know that they did think of her sometimes.

There was one person, though, who was constantly around.

Lily didn’t know how he did it; between every class, James managed to come by the infirmary. Sometimes he was panting as he called out, ‘All right, Lily?’ before leaving again. When he had a break, he stayed and read out bits of the lessons she was missing and the homework the teachers had set, for her to think about after he left. At first, it hadn’t been easy to concentrate on the concepts he was expounding without any form of visual aid, but slowly, the words began to make sense to her, and she found she could focus on the questions he’d asked even when she was alone.

It was strange, how she was starting to depend on his always being there. Thanks to James, she wasn’t falling too far behind in class. Thanks to James, she didn’t have much time alone to brood. Thanks to James, escorting her, she could attend Prefect meetings and she didn’t have to do any paperwork. Thanks to James, who stayed with her some nights, as though sensing that her mind was troubled, she wasn’t plagued with nightmares.

She owed him so much now, and she feared he would want something back from her. She knew she couldn’t in good conscience refuse any favour he asked of her after he had done all this. But she didn’t know if she could truly give him what he wanted of her.

Yet, she trusted that James wouldn’t ask more of her than she could give.

That was the difference, wasn’t it?

She had come to trust him.

~ * ~

The change was amazing. Professor McGonagall felt it necessary to sink into her seat for a few moments after the seventh-year Transfiguration class had left, just to marvel at it. And it wasn’t just a one-time occurrence; they’d been this way for an entire month.

James Potter and Sirius Black were finally working.

Professor McGonagall found it difficult to shake off her old image of the two most notable trouble-makers in school. From first through fifth year, although a healthy level of fear had kept them from disrupting her class (save several small-scale pranks which had earned them week-long detentions each time), they had never been the type to work hard.

Remus Lupin had, and Peter Pettigrew – they were the serious workers in the group, but neither could come up to Potter and Black’s brilliance. The latter pair produced acceptable work effortlessly, but could never be bothered to try harder. Even in O.W.L.s year, when they could have easily achieved Outstanding in every single subject they took, they blew it off and even failed History of Magic appallingly.

Sixth year and the impending N.E.W.T.s hadn’t changed them. After Christmas, they’d been less boisterous, but this hadn’t translated to a focus in their work. This year, they’d been attentive enough, except for that period in time when Lily Evans had returned from Christmas break an orphan and a wreck – then all of them had been that close to sleeping through their classes, not that she blamed them. But they hadn’t been exceptional, up till now.

Every teacher in the school knew well that James Potter was not only putting effort into his work, but diligently helping to tutor Lily Evans in his free time. He was scribbling madly as he took notes every lesson, asking brilliant questions that left the teachers dumbfounded in their attempt to answer sometimes (‘I’ll check that up for you’ was becoming a common phrase in class) … it was really quite extraordinary. And the best of it was that with Sirius Black following his lead, the seventh-year classes were becoming much more stimulating to teach.

Professor McGonagall wondered if she should mention this to Dumbledore. But then, she thought, he probably knew it all – and worse still, had even anticipated it.

Yes, she could just imagine his eyes twinkling along with that infuriating smile that said he’d known all along James Potter would live up to his potential.

Well, she conceded, he had chosen him as Head Boy.