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Author: Fionnabhair Story: A Lost Generation Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Completed Reviews: 2 Words: 101,912
Dear Lily and Dorcas, I hope everything is going well with the two of you – I assume it is, otherwise there would have been something in the Daily Prophet about one of you exploding from accumulated stress, but then again, you never know. Is James driving you around the twist, Lily? (Please note that this isn’t a request for you to list his terrible qualities in your next letter – we both know the litany by now.) By this stage of seventh year I remember wanting to pull Travers’ ears off – I hope he hasn’t annoyed you that much. When is the next Quidditch match? I mentioned to Dermot that Dorcas was a Chaser, and he instantly became incredibly excited – they’re starting work on the newest model of Nimbus, and apparently they’re looking for test fliers. They won’t be needed until next summer, but Dermot wants to put the team together now. He says he can’t find a female Chaser (don’t ask me why, he knows hundreds of Quidditch players) so he might pop up to the next match and check out your flying, Dorcas. The pay seems to be reasonably good, and it’d be a handy starter job at least (there might be opportunities for broom design in a few years, but according to Dermot they haven’t fully set up the Apprentice programme yet.) I can’t wait for next year when we can share a flat – there’s barely room to swing a kitten in the place I’m in now. A strange thing happened last weekend actually. I was shopping in Muggle London, trying to find some kind of painkiller my supervisor was going on about (apparently it’s called morphine, but I couldn’t find it in any of the ‘pharmacies’ so have my doubts about whether its real or not.) I ran into your mum and Petunia, Lily. They said they were shopping for a wedding dress – your mother did not look particularly cheerful, I have to say. Does this mean Petunia didn’t ask you to be a bridesmaid after all? (In which case, let me say, she is a half-arsed old cow, and don’t let it bother you.) The second I mentioned I was a friend of yours, she practically ran out of the shop, though before that I think she found me rather charming. Has she always looked so old? I feel a bit run into the ground to be honest – this is the first night all week I’ve had the energy to put quill to paper. I’m even glad Dermot’s away for a few days – I don’t want to do anything but sleep. I’m told the first six months at St Mungo’s are always rough – the amount of different classes we have to do beggars belief. We’re even doing Muggle classes, if you can believe it – anatomy and physiology (though what the difference is between the two I’m not entirely certain.) We have those classes everyday – physiology first thing in the morning and anatomy last thing at night. I never realised how much Muggles had discovered – according to my supervisor, the development of potion-making and medicinal charms exploded when the Muggles started making their discoveries. We have to go over to the Royal College of Surgeons for lectures, as the previous lecturer (a witch by the name of Hegarty) either returned to Dublin to be with her one true love or had an unfortunate encounter with a manticore. Those are the two most common explanations, according to hospital gossip. Either way, she seems to have disappeared. We get some funny looks at the college – they had to make arrangements in a hurry, and the Muggle lecturers have been told we’re from a special discipline of some kind. They think we’re all a bit mad, but they’re very, very nice about it. My supervisor, Auberon Galspeed, is quite a queer one, it has to be said, though he really knows his stuff. I don’t actually spend that much time with him – a day and a half a week – but he’s very interesting. He actually looks more like a Quidditch player than a mild-mannered Healer, but he’s specialising in potions research. He’s helping a Damocles Belby research a potion, and Belby arrives about once a week to compare findings. It’s all a bit technical to be honest, and I wouldn’t mind but I’m the one who has to take the notes from their discussions. I also get sent out to the library and to other places on some truly weird errands – apparently the potion has something to do with werewolves, so I’ve been doing all kinds of research for them. They want to find a cure, though from what I’ve read that’s impossible. I don’t know, mind you, but…well, it’s early yet, and they’ve certainly made some interesting discoveries. It’ll be quite a while, I think, before they even have a potion they can actually test, but you might want to drop this into conversation with a certain someone – it’d do him a bit of good I think. He is keeping well? I miss him to be honest – he’s a very relaxing person to be around, and Lord knows, I could do with some relaxation now. (You know, I lied – I do miss Dermot after all.) Auberon says he’s going to train me up as a potions researcher like him, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. Not that I wouldn’t be interested, but I’ve had a word with Dumbledore, and we’ve agreed that I’m going to specialise in curse damage. It’s not permanent of course, but for all intents and purposes it might as well be – who knows when this will finish? God I sound melancholy – sorry. I don’t mind, really – it’s just curse damage was never what I imagined myself doing. Of course, what I did imagine myself doing was natal care, which there is no way I am doing. I’ve helped with two births now, and they’ve both been utter nightmares. Don’t get me wrong, the babies are beautiful, but it’s too messy altogether, not to mention the husbands! One of them, Amos Diggory, a man who is supposedly an Auror (or something involving law enforcement anyway) actually fainted during the birth! Because of my arrangement with Dumbledore, I’m getting some advanced training. Instead of spending months drilling me on the basics, I get a month’s intensive course, and then, if I pass the exam, I’ll be whisked upstairs to curse damage. I’ll still be working with Auberon on other areas (probably about two days a week) but I won’t be moved around like everyone else. It’s not ideal, but this way I’ll qualify as a Healer by next Christmas, and Dumbledore says they need Healers urgently. I should be able to handle most curses by March (the last six months will be work on the Darkest curses, and pick-up courses on everything else.) Now you know why I’m so tired. Keep well, and write back to me soon. Love, Marlene Lily smiled as she finished reading the letter. She sat by the window in Gryffindor Tower, the wind moaning outside. Marlene did sound exhausted, but Lily had learnt long ago that Marlene was happiest when busy, so she wasn’t unduly worried. She had laughed at her description of working with Travers – at least James wasn’t that bad. The letter slid down to her lap as she considered that, in fact, James wasn’t bad at all. He didn’t really seem like the arrogant toe-rag she had once called him – instead he seemed, well, mature. He still drove her mad (in fact she was beginning to suspect he always would) but it wasn’t the same. His smile made her itch to do…something; she didn’t even know what. He could be so intensely infuriating that she had actually considered hitting him with a Passivity Charm, which was most unlike her. In the last week he had started a crusade to ‘teach Lily to fly properly’ and knowing him, he wasn’t going to give up until he actually saw her fall to her death. Lily knew that her opposition to flight was silly really; it was just that every time she got on a broom she froze. It was utterly foolish, but she was scared of heights, and all of her belief in magic couldn’t seem to shake that fear. If she absolutely had to fly, she could just about manage it – going very slowly, with frequent pauses so she could soothe herself a little. But she didn’t want to tell James this – it would leave her horribly exposed. It was silly, and she knew that, but she wanted him to think of her as the clever, capable Head Girl – not as someone who trembled every time she got on a broomstick. Especially as he was such a good flier himself. She didn’t like to think about just why she wanted him to think of her as clever and capable – it was better not to think about it. But yet, and she pulled at the skin of her nails as she thought about it, it would be better to admit it to herself (if not to Dorcas.) James was…handsome. She hadn’t seen it before because he’d been such a git, but she was seeing it now. It was very difficult sometimes to remember that, because he was so much easier to deal with when he was just the boy who pestered her and tormented Snape. She’d even found herself about to lay into him one day and had only managed to stop herself at the last second – it was just so much easier when she could hold herself above him. But she couldn’t do that any more, and now she was tumbling off her high horse with distressing rapidity. He was good company, and clever, and she just enjoyed spending her time with him. Too much. He’d had a bit of a reputation the last few years for being a ‘serial monogamist’, and Lily was not about to gratify his pride by betraying an interest in him. If she was interested in him – if such a thing was actually possible, and Lily wasn’t certain it wasn’t against nature. But, he was very good-looking. Not in the way Sirius was good-looking, thankfully – Sirius looked ludicrously perfect, like a film star, and sometimes she was tempted to pinch him to see if he was real – but in his own way. Part of it was his expression, his way of seeming to feel things more than other people. When he was happy he actually shone, and when he was angry, well, fortunately she hadn’t seen him angry yet. Hazel eyes were something else she was discovering hidden depths to. His eyes were warm, warmer than she’d ever realised, and when James looked at her a certain way, when he was smiling, she felt…well not any way she was supposed to feel when James Potter looked at her, that was for sure. And yet, his gaze was keen, he saw things clearly, and he wouldn’t ever let her back down. It drove her to distraction sometimes, but it was a trait she secretly loved. He wasn’t afraid or unwilling to stand up to her – and sometime in the last few years, he had actually learned to take her seriously. He had learned that she meant what she said. Lily sat up with a start when she heard Sirius’ voice shouting, “Well maybe if you hadn’t been floating there like an idiot, I wouldn’t have hit you.” Sirius was carrying Dorcas through the portrait hole – the skin around her right eye had swollen up, and she appeared to have a broken nose. That didn’t stop her from yelling right back at Sirius though. “Well maybe if you had paid the slightest attention to what you were doing I wouldn’t have been hit.” “It’s a Quidditch practise, Meadows! I’m supposed to hit the Bludgers – that’s why we train, so that you have something approaching an idea of how to dodge. Clearly you don’t!” “Well, why is it then, Black, that you only hit the Bludger at me all evening! Do you think that’s Ravenclaw's new strategy – concentrate on me? Just for the record – I know how to dodge. And why are you still carrying me?” Lily moved over to them, thankful that almost everyone except a few harried-looking fifth-years was in bed, hoping to calm them down somewhat. Sirius sat Dorcas down on the sofa, and James, who had accompanied them but hadn’t taken part in the argument, gave Lily a wry smile as she approached. Sirius was still shouting. “Well, clearly you need the practise, if you manage to get hit in the head by a Bludger. You didn’t even duck!” It being fairly obvious what had happened, Lily said, “Why didn’t you go to the hospital wing?” James shook his head. “Madam Pomfrey wasn’t there.” “She wasn’t there!” Lily exclaimed. Dorcas eyed Lily carefully. “She’s in Hogsmeade, I think.” Sirius rounded on her. “And why do you think she’s in Hogsmeade?” “Because there’s three Dark Marks in the sky. That’s what I was looking at. She’s the nearest Healer.” Silence fell in the room and the fifth-years exchanged worried glances. Lily shook her head, amazed that the Death Eaters would have the audacity to attack so close to Hogwarts. Dorcas took her hand away from her nose and grimaced at the amount of blood. “Think you’ll be able to fix this, Lily?” she said. “Sure.” “Episkey” She smiled at her friend impishly. “Keep the numbing charm on for tonight and you can get it fixed in the morning. You’ll be black and blue by then, you know.” Dorcas sniffed and said, “Yeah, Sirius took care of that.” Lily saw him swell like an angry toad and held her breath. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. Dorcas laughed bitterly. “First Cooper burns off half my hair, and now this. Is my nose crooked?” Lily checked carefully. “No – you’re fine. Why did he burn your hair off?” “Oh apparently I insulted him, I don’t know. He’s a git. Anyway, I was late for practise so I didn’t go to get it fixed. I probably look like a hag.” Sirius now looked distinctly uncomfortable and Lily took pity on him. She rapped Dorcas’ head lightly with her wand, and said, “How long do you want it to be?” Dorcas’ golden-brown hair started to spring out of her scalp, and she pointed to her collarbone, asking, “How do you just happen to know that charm?” “One of the boys in my old school cut my hair off when I was eight – I looked it up the first month in Hogwarts. It comes in handy if you’ve had a really bad haircut.” Dorcas giggled, and Lily tapped her head again. The tendrils stopped growing, but continued to twist and rearrange themselves, as though a pair of kittens were playing underneath her hair. “Sorry about that,” Lily said, “It tends to get a bit excited until you wash it.” James grinned. “How many bad haircuts have you had?” “This is not the time for that discussion. In fact, I don’t think there is a time for that discussion – ever.” Sirius was staring into the fire darkly, and James glanced at him warily. “Come on Evans – it can’t be worse than my hair.” “You never cut your hair.” “Hey!” “Hey? You don’t. Why do you think it looks like a bird’s nest?” “A bird’s nest!” “At least Sirius understands the value of good grooming.” Lily ruffled Sirius’ hair teasingly, but he moved away from her with a grunt of ill humour. Dorcas stared at him, and after a few moments she said, “And I do know how to dodge.” James grabbed Lily’s hand and they ran for the portrait hole as Sirius and Dorcas started arguing yet again. Once outside, they leaned against the wall, slightly out of breath. “Those two,” he said. “It’s getting ridiculous. I can’t stand it any more. It’s just too much!” He was right. Dorcas and Sirius had been sniping at each other constantly since the beginning of the year. It was quite surprising, really – while Sirius was somewhat changeable, Dorcas was usually quite even-tempered. Lily suspected it was due to Sirius’ continued involvement with Veronica Smethley, whom he seemed to flaunt in front of Dorcas a little. Lily wasn’t sure why he did it – James swore he hadn’t said anything, and it seemed uncharacteristically cruel – but she had given up trying to understand Sirius a long time ago. They were walking together when James said, “Good thing we had to patrol tonight.” “Oh, blast!” He stared at her, clearly worried. “What?” “I have to go back.” He caught her arm as she turned. “Oh no, we’re not going back into the war zone just yet, thank you. Why?” “Marlene sent us a letter, I should give it to Dorcas.” “It can wait half an hour can’t it?” “Yeah – I suppose.” “How is she anyway?” “Fine. Tired.” “I’ve heard Healer training can be rough.” “Sounds like it. She seems to be doing about five hundred different things, and she’s not living with anyone so…” “How come?” “Oh, just worked out that way. You remember Jenny?” “Yeah – they were best mates weren’t they?” “Pretty much. Well, she’s gone off to Australia as British liaison to the ministry or something, and Marlene’s other friends are at the Auror training academy so it’s not really practical for them to live with her.” James let out a low whistle. “That’s rough.” They had stopped by a window, looking out at the castle grounds, and Lily shivered, thinking of green skulls hanging over Hogsmeade. “It’s not so bad really,” she said. “She’s not at home that much anyway, and she has Dermot. I think she was just really tired when she wrote.” “Did she have anything interesting to say?” “Oh some stuff – she’s helping her supervisor with some potion for werewolves.” James stiffened and Lily kept her voice carefully light and looked out the window. “She says they’re looking for a cure – I’m not sure if that’s possible from what I remember reading, but they’ve learned things. They might be able to make it…less painful, or something.” “I thought we weren’t going to…” She laid a hand on his arm, and said distinctly, “I just thought it might be worth mentioning.” He looked at her measuringly, and after a moment she realised her hand was still on his arm. She flushed and turned back to the window, saying, “It’s not as bad as what Muggles have to do.” “What do you mean?” “It takes seven years for a Muggle doctor to qualify – at least.” “How do they get anything done?” “My mum used to say necessity is the mother of invention.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Work it out for yourself. You’re supposed to be intelligent.” Lily hugged herself as he said, “Where is Remus anyway?” “He went to bed – he looks pretty rough to be honest.” “Yeah, well…” His voice drifted off. It was only three days since the last full moon. The silence between them stretched out, and Lily sighed. She couldn’t keep her mind off Hogsmeade and what might have happened there – and she was angry. And afraid. She couldn’t keep that little shiver of fear out of her mind – they were killing people, people just like her, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it. James must have been thinking the same thing, because he said, his eyes closed off, “Why would they attack Hogsmeade?” “I don’t know. There aren’t any Muggles there.” Lily winced at the bitter tone of her voice, and risked a look at him. He stared into her eyes intently, and she felt a sudden need to explain to him. “I’m sorry. I’m not exactly impartial about any of this.” He nodded, but he didn’t say anything, and Lily wildly wished he would, because she couldn’t stop. “It’s just I had to tell my parents to keep an eye out for wizards because they might murder them. And all my old friends…” She closed her mouth with a snap – she really didn’t want to talk about this. She broke their eye contact, and stepped around James, walking on down the corridor. It was a few moments before she heard his footsteps following her. He looked at her somewhat warily and said, “Lily, it’s all right.” “No, it’s not! “I mean, it’s all right for you to be angry.” “No, damn it – it’s not! They’re out there, murdering people, and my parents and my sister don’t have anyone! I should be there…I should be…” Lily stopped talking, utterly horrified that she had gone off on him like that. She stepped away from him, wiping away the tears of rage that had sprung up quite unexpectedly. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath, desperately trying to clear her mind of the unexpected anger and guilt that had bubbled up inside her. She hadn’t even known she felt so strongly about abandoning her family – even though logic and her mother had told her repeatedly that she wasn’t abandoning anyone, she couldn’t seem to make herself believe it. It came as something of a shock to feel James’ hand on her shoulder – he squeezed it gently and leaned in to look at her face. “Lily, it’s okay. I don’t think there’s a single Muggle-born who doesn’t feel the same way. Hell, I feel the same way, and my mum used to be an Auror.” “Was she really?” “Yeah. Why so surprised?” “Not surprised exactly – I just always wondered where you’d learned all those defensive charms.” “What charms?” “The ones from first and second years. You knew all of them, when the rest of us were still working on swish and flick.” “You’ve been thinking about it since first year?” She happened to look at his face, and a sudden suspicion hit her. “Yeah.” He tapped her collarbone with one finger and said, “You fancied me.” Trying desperately not to blush, she yelped, “I did not!” “Oh, you didn’t? What was it then?” “It was curiosity.” “Killed the cat you know, Lily.” “It’s not really a good idea to say that when we’re standing outside the Transfiguration classroom.” He laughed, though it was a terribly old joke, and they walked on for several minutes in silence. When they reached the fourth floor Lily said, “Do you want to take the east and I’ll take the west corridor?” He nodded, saying, “Race you back to the stairs?” She sighed. “It doesn’t always have to be a competition.” “Okay, okay. Don’t take long.” Lily watched him go thoughtfully. She was still in shock, and somewhat embarrassed, that she had lost her temper like that. James, thankfully, hadn’t made it worse, but she still cringed at what she had said. Whatever was the matter with her? Everyone seemed to be snapping lately – even Peter, which was most unusual. He was by far the most even-tempered of the four, which she supposed was his great virtue. Everything about Peter was reasoned, from his even-temper to his average marks and his unassuming appearance. Lily begged to ask him why he hung around with Remus, James and Sirius when he could have had friends who didn’t undermine him so much. What on earth did he get out of it? To be fair, they did seem to care about him, but, if it had been her, which it wasn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to stand always being around people who would always outdo her. Then again, she thought impishly, Peter might just have a less resentful temperament than she. She couldn’t ask him of course, it wouldn’t have been tactful, but it was a question she longed to understand. She checked the Ancient Runes classroom and the room that housed the Charms Club (of which she was the proud chairperson) before continuing on down the corridor. Ludicrous as it might sound, she had always loved wandering the corridors at night. Even now, when she had to do so as Head Girl, she tingled with a sense of the forbidden. Who knew what you might find around the next corner? She supposed it was slightly ridiculous – aside from that unfortunate encounter with a half-grown Acromantula and a group of Death Eaters last year, Lily didn’t have many rule-breaking incidents in her past. Well, she had hexed James in her fourth year, giving him immensely long front teeth, but she excused that on the grounds of justifiable provocation. Lily heard shouting, and walked briskly round the corner. She was appalled by what she saw. Two seventh-year students had Peter Pettigrew cornered and cursed. His slightly plump, friendly face had swollen to grotesque proportions, and Lily realised they must have used Engorgio. She lifted her wand. “Expelliarmus! Impedimenta!” Wilkes and Rosier were knocked to the ground, and Lily caught their wands deftly. She stood over them grimly, her voice trembling with anger. “Both of you get up! Now.” They leaned against the wall, smirking at her, and Lily thought she would like to curse them both so badly they’d never smile again, but she restrained herself. Even without a wand, there were still two of them, and Peter might be injured (Engorgio wasn’t really supposed to be used on humans.) “I want an explanation for this.” “For what?” Lily stared at Wilkes, wondering if he was trying to provoke her further, but only said, “Yes, an explanation for why you were attacking another student.” “We weren’t attacking anybody… We were just teaching the basics of duelling.” “Really? Well in that case, you won’t mind if I report this to Professor Dumbledore, will you?” That seemed to faze them, and Rosier shifted uncomfortably as Lily continued, “Because if Professor Dumbledore heard of any unsupervised tuition in duelling, especially if a student had been injured, I think he would be most unhappy.” They refused to meet her eyes, standing in aggressive silence and Lily, tired of their pretences, and wanting to help Peter, said, “Well, go back to your common rooms. I’ll speak to the Headmaster about this tomorrow.” Wilkes approached her, and said, “Aren’t you going to give us our wands back, Head Girl?” “No. You won’t get your wands back until tomorrow, if then. I’m not satisfied that you won’t start another ‘duelling practise’ on the way back.” He stood very close to her, anger twisting his face and reddening his cheeks. He looked like a parody of himself – Wilkes had been blessed, or cursed depending on how one looked at it, with the looks of an innocent choirboy, and anger did not suit him. “You’re nothing. You don’t even deserve to be here. You’re just a jumped-up Mudblood.” Lily lifted an eyebrow. “And you’re a vicious hooligan, who tortures a wandless student – and tomorrow you’ll be expelled. Now get back to your common room.” They sauntered away, and she resisted the temptation to send a few choice jinxes after them, kneeling down beside Peter instead. With a little rapid charm work she had him deflated and generally set to rights, though his face was an unhealthy red colour. She patted his back tentatively – she didn’t really know Peter all that well. It was a few minutes before Peter was ready to walk, and he hadn’t spoken much, so Lily was glad to see James approaching. Assessing the situation quickly, James hooked one arm around his back and they escorted him to the common room. They got him to go to bed – it was quite late to be going to the hospital wing, and Lily didn’t think there’d been any physical harm done. The look of mingled humiliation and rage on Peter’s face spoke volumes about emotional damage, however. He didn’t say a word. Lily couldn’t blame him, but her feelings were bound up in gratitude that she had got there in time. It came as something of surprise then when James turned to her and said, “What did you go and do that for?” “Do what?” “You know what!” He was walking around the room distractedly, and Lily had to make the connection herself. “What? Save your friend from a pair of teenage psychopaths? Oh, sorry, I won’t go and do that again.” “Why did you have to shove your oar in?” “Did you see what happened to him?” “He could have handled it himself – he wanted to. I know.” “I don’t care what he wanted, James! I cared about making sure that they didn’t do permanent damage to him. And since he didn’t have his wand, that was my job.” “You embarrassed him.” “How exactly?” “He…he doesn’t want anyone to save him.” “So what! Was I supposed to stand there and let them hurt him?” “No…no. I’m sorry.” “I bet you are.” “What, Lily – I’m sorry, it’s not like that.” She was walking away from him now, about to walk up to her dorm and sleep off this too long day, when he caught her elbow and turned her to face him. “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” “Do you know what they call me?” She had never seen his face change so quickly, shifting from an expression of apology to hot anger as he said, “No.” “Well, let’s just say, it wasn’t exactly fun for me either.” “Lily, I…” She couldn’t deal with this any more, couldn’t listen to him rant and rave on her behalf – she just wanted her bed. “I’m going to bed. Night, James.” A/N: The title of this chapter comes from Hamlet, Act 4, Scene 4: “Rightly to be great
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