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Who: Lily Potter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cwiclac), James Potter (heorot), Sirius Black (doggo), and Remus Lupin (xxxxx)
What: Keep calm, the Potters have arrived.
When: Lucky number Sept. 10 (or so).
Where: Varies depending on the thread.
Warning(s): Death. Sadness. Attempted child murder. Welcome to Harry Potter!
[ this is a closed log to deal with the initial waking up drama of the marauder era & co. harry potter cast, to avoid clogging the intro log and wasting away the captcha. threads down below to be created by the cast. ]
cwiclac), James Potter (heorot), Sirius Black (doggo), and Remus Lupin (xxxxx)What: Keep calm, the Potters have arrived.
When: Lucky number Sept. 10 (or so).
Where: Varies depending on the thread.
Warning(s): Death. Sadness. Attempted child murder. Welcome to Harry Potter!
[ this is a closed log to deal with the initial waking up drama of the marauder era & co. harry potter cast, to avoid clogging the intro log and wasting away the captcha. threads down below to be created by the cast. ]
( james: waking up )
the voice tells her that james is awake, and that her son is safe. that is the first thing she hears, quickly followed by the stark realization of what had happened moments ago. moments. she can feel the grip of terror in her stomach and the immediate urge to be ready, to fight to --
-- where is her son?
once she is awake and properly out of the damn pod, her legs shaking and her fingers curled around her wand in a practical death grip, she staggers forward to turn, to look. harry. she has to find harry. harry was in her arms, in his room -- when he came in, and voldemort had killed her. killed james. that much she knew for certain, but harry had been alive, in her arms, when voldemort had struck with the killing curse -- which means harry had been with her.
but he wasn't with her now, and that fear resurfaces again, but now lily at least can move. preoccupied, maybe, and ignoring what had happened -- ignoring half of what the voice had told her, which was that james is awake (which is impossible, because she heard him die, she heard voldemort kill him, murder him), and focusing instead on the second piece. harry.
it's in moving that, finally, the reality of the situation catches up to her. the pods. the storm. the destruction of... something, what was it? but the ringing in her ear, and voldemort's laugh, and not knowing where her son is . . .
when james sees her, she looks... lost. lost, and pale, and desperately forcing herself to keep walking forward, on some sort of silent mission to herself to find harry.
part of her hoping not to find him, because if this is the afterlife, then that means voldemort truly did win. ]
this is f i n e
he takes a breath, and then another. part of him thinks sirius, and his eyes are scanning the room. but then his next thought, the next beat of his heart, the next breath he pulls in, screams find lily and harry and it's that thought that pushes him into his next step. then another. then off into a run. ]
Lily?! Lily! [ that little bit of panic is rising, because he needs to know. the voice had told him his loved ones would be safe, but he knows she's here. like a part of his soul is somewhere in this room with him. she is here, he knows it like he knew this would be their best way out, and he takes no time in racing around to check the others. he sees faces, sees various stages of confusion, of shock, but he's looking for one.
one woman, one head of hair, one lily evans potter.
he has to find her. he has to. she's here because she has to be and she'll have harry. james knows these things, and this knowledge is the main force in pushing him in the search. he still thinks about how ridiculous this all how, how much he still isn't sure about this deal he made, but with everything coming from them, the darkness, voldemort...
it doesn't matter. or- it will matter. later. after he finds lily. after he knows she and harry are safe. after they're all safe. ]
Lil- [ he turns some corner, goes around one aisle, and there she is. and really, james probably would have noticed more to her walk. more to her stature. more to her, really, if he'd been paying attention. but the problem is- he sees her, her, and his heart swells so much that he has to swallow it back. his chest tightens painfully, but right, and he's running- no, sprinting- in her direction, pulling her against his chest the second he gets there. ]
Merlin I was so scared I wouldn't find you... [ and now - finally - he takes a breath. can breathe for the first time since he opened his eyes. but now that she's hear, the rest of it can come together. the rest of it can happen, because he is, finally whole. ]
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she, for a moment, just sort of ... stands there, almost in shock, as james starts talking. he's breathing. she can feel his heart beating against her cheek from where she's resting against his chest, and she can feel his hands on her back, through her hair. she doesn't raise her own arms to hug him quite yet, and there's an odd pressure building in her chest.
how? your husband is awake. but that shouldn't be possible. none if this is possible. james should not be awake, and if he is awake, then . . . why was he afraid he wouldn't find her? because she's dead. obviously. but so is he, so is this the afterlife, or was the voice actually telling the truth?
the pressure in her chest moves to her throat, and she takes a shuddered breath against him. and, finally, lily allows herself to all-but-sag against him, her legs stumbling forward as she lets her arms properly hang there, her wand slipping from her fingers to hit the floor. but now that she has allowed herself the tiniest moment of relaxation, the pressure in her throat finally gives way into a shuddered sob. ]
I . . .
[ harry.
the thought sends a jolt into her, and she grips james' shirt -- solid. he is real, and present, and lily tries to draw in a breath, but it comes out in another choked sob. ]
-- Harry, I don't have -- I was holding... I was holding Harry when --
[ but she doesn't manage to finish her sentence. ]
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necessary for james to notice the tension in lily's shoulders. necessary for him to feel the way she stands, without reacting, for a moment too long. he kisses the top of her head, an action that is as much habit as it is a conscious decision, and he tightens his arms around her. ]
Lily, love- [ he's about to pull back from her just to get a better look at her face when that shuddered breath happens. when she finally, finally collapses against him. he hears the wand hit the floor, but he doesn't care enough to reach down and pick it up, holding her body up against his to keep her upright. ] It's alright, it's okay, I'm here, we're fine-
[ the words spill out before he has the time to think about them, trying more for a simple reassuring noise than anything else. but then lily sobs, lily mentions harry, and james goes a bit tense himself. just for a moment, until he can push that tension into his arms, holding her tighter, as if that will help. ]
He's fine. They said he'd be fine- [ but his throat is tight, a solid mass sitting somewhere directly under his adams apple. he tries to swallow around it, tries to pitch his voice a little lighter, but he's unsure of it's effectiveness. harry. ] They said they would keep you both safe. He's got to be here somewhere. He's okay. [ that last bit has bit more conviction to it, like if he can sound sure enough then they both could be convinced. ]
We'll find him.
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his role (albeit a role no one forced upon him but himself) is to make her feel better. for half a second, it almost works. lily's breathing calms a little at the reassurance that they will find their son, and while she is still shaking and all but being held up by james, she can at least breathe.
breathe, enough, to try and continue.
voldemort didn't even want me, he wanted harry.
. . . but the moment her lips attempt to form the word -- voldemort -- she's suddenly struck by this bizarre terror. and, reflectively, lily realizes that perhaps this is why all of these people refuse to say his name. as if the spectre in the dark would magically manifest himself the moment you say his name too many times.
shameful. after all of these years of constantly lecturing her fellow muggle-borns to take pride in themselves and to not kowtow to fear and tyranny, lily potter can't even say his damn name. ]
He didn't even want me, he wanted Harry.
[ it's said quietly, in a ragged tone -- exhausted, her fingers still curled into james' shirt as if he is going to vanish at any given moment. but lily, after saying that -- the sentence seems to give her some sort of strength and somewhere, something clicks. because james is right, and harry has to be here somewhere. that means, by the same string of logic, he might be here somewhere, and over her dead body is voldemort going to find him before she does.
she straightens herself, her hair something of a mess and her eyes reddened with tears, but she manages to pull herself away from james, reaching out one hand to bring her wand back to it. though her other hand is still gripping his shirt, to keep him here, because if this isn't the afterlife, and a miracle really did happen, then voldemort isn't going to take james away again, either. ]
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harry is here.
he kisses the top of her head again, trying to coax her into breathing more slowly, trying to - despite his own tension - get her to relax. he feels her tense again, feels her hand tighten in his shirt, and he rubs across her back as soothingly as he can manage. ]
Hey, hey, it's okay. We're here, I'm here, we're okay. [ as just a continued stream of words, something to clear the air, familiar and comfortable to surround them in this alien and unknown place. he knows it won't do much, but lily is panicked and for james, that changes his priorities to strictly calming her down. that's why, when she does speak up, it takes a second or so for him to put together what she means.
he didn't even want me
but he doesn't get it. the last thing he remembers was a dark night, a quiet street, lily putting harry to bed and him heading up the stairs. it was threatening to rain, but nothing too dangerous. nothing he had even really started to worry about, other than his plan to let harry wander the gardens being pushed back another week.
he wanted harry. ]
He? [ the question is returned just as quietly, almost innocent. he leans away marginally, trying to gather any kind of information he can from her reaction. her hands are still in his shirt, but she seems....settled, in a way. pulled back together. he's not that selfish to think it was just from him, so he continues to watch, eyes a bit wide as she straightens herself and pulls away, picking up her wand but not quiet letting go of him.
there's a kind of dangerous understanding settled somewhere under her skin. something solid, decisive, and dark. james watches it, his eyes scanning every inch of her like there could be a clue hidden that he hadn't picked up on. but when he doesn't quite find the simple answer he was looking for, he reaching to gently touch her elbow. ]
Lily- [ it's gentle, like he's trying to coax something out of her without it setting off whatever she had been wrestling with. it's quiet, like he's trying to keep it secret between them, like there could be other people listening. it's worried, like he's watching lily stand in front on him in pain and there's nothing he can do about it. ]
What are you talking about?
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maybe it's the war, but for half a second, she's terrified all over again. because james asking what she is talking about is impossible. how could he ask her such a stupid question when -- and for another half a second (and, again, the war), she realizes she never bothered to make sure this was james in the first place.
. . . but once she looks at him, that fear is gone, because this is james. her james, and how he holds himself, how gentle his tone is, how he's tiptoeing around making her upset but still asking the necessary question. it is james. but he's still asking a stupid question, and while james asks a lot of stupid questions, he never asks purposefully hurtful stupid questions, and he never plays dumb. not with her. not now.
her voice sounds raspy, from the crying (and, belatedly, she realizes, probably from the screaming): ]
Him. You -- [ no, she is not bending to that foolishness. ] Voldemort.
[ it's soft (and she hates how she nearly hesitates before saying the name, but while her voice is soft, lily forces herself to say it with conviction, every syllable purposeful), watching his face. her hands are shaking, but adrenaline is keeping her in one spot, upright, for the time being.
finally, she retracts her hand from james' shirt, so she can push her hair out of her face. her fingers are shaking. ]
He didn't want me. He wanted Harry. And if -- if he's here, then we need. . .
[ lily stops herself, because she can't allow herself to be panicked again. panic serves no one. she has to keep her head, because now, something is wrong with james, and her priority has to shift to that. because if james is compromised, then lily truly is on her own, here. ]
Did he wipe your memory? [ carefully, gently. ] Do you remember Halloween?
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there is a second there where everything stops, frozen somewhere in the space between them. lily looks different, looks off, but he can't understand why. there's the urge to reach out and brush some of her hair back from her face, to pull her back against him again as long as it means getting rid of that-
and then it's gone.
james feels like hours went by in that single second, exhausted and strung out like he'd been running, but he doesn't waver his eyes. doesn't move, for fear of possibly, in some way, doing something wrong. but that doesn't stop him from asking, doesn't stop the way his stomach drops at the sound of her voice. what happened to her? what, in the span of their quiet night to this moment, happened?
he thinks back to the snow, the ice, to eggsy and to sirius and- no. well. maybe. maybe that could be it.
but then lily says him and james knows. knows before she can finally form the name in her mouth. she says his name but there is more to it- a kind of fear that settles somewhere behind her eyes. james is more confused than anything, still not able to figure out how this is happening or what she means. ]
Do you mean the prophecy? [ it's said a bit weakly, and with too much uncertainty for james to feel comfortable. lily retracts her arm and pushes back her hair and james is still left feeling a bit weightless. ]
Love, when? What are you talking about? He hasn't- [ he can't even start to wonder about if voldemort is here given the conversation, the fact that lily is looking at him like that. his brow furrows - not darkly, but definitively. wiped his memory? halloween? ]
Are you talking about last year? Yeah, I remember, but I don't- [ no, that's wrong. that's not what she's asking about. he his cocks to the side when he looks at her, next, before he's reaching out to set his hands on her upper arms, eyes searching her a bit more frantically this time. ] What happened?
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that is the first thing that pops into her head, as she watches him talk --watches him get too ahead of himself and have to start over. it's too organic and too . . . well, james to really be anybody but him, and james is genuine. he always has been, and he always will be, and finally, the reality of the situation is beginning to sink in.
this isn't home. and, it seems, this isn't the afterlife. no . . . this is a new place, and it is real. they were brought here, by something -- voldemort, maybe, but that seems unlikely, given how badly voldemort wanted to kill them. why keep them alive just to move them somewhere else? this isn't magic, it's something else.
and if it is something else . . . then james does not remember. why, lily has no idea. did voldemort wipe his memory? did ... whoever is in charge of this place? what happened, exactly? but that is irrelevant, really, because james genuinely does not know, and suddenly, her heart drops into her stomach. he doesn't know.
suddenly, she wants to cry again. but she bites the inside of her cheek, and fights down the urge to (1) cry and (2) demand that they find harry again, and instead: ]
Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow. On Halloween. 1981.
[ it's said in a soft tone, just above a whisper. she doesn't need to finish it, to explain what happened. no one ecapes voldemort three times. few people even escape him once. but isolated, in godric's hollow, with no one there . . . voldemort was there to kill, and kill he did.
lily swallows, to try and finish the story -- to share details, because james deserves to know, he, of all people, deserve to know what happened, exactly, and how he had died -- but once she says the first part, words fail her, and she reaches out again to grab at his hand, to grip it. ]
Stay with me, because I'm here, and you're here, and we need to stay that way.
[ it's soft, almost a little desperate, but she searches out his eyes. still terrified, still pale, but lily at least has some sense of purpose in her eyes, now. ]
We need to find Harry, and our friends, and -- [ this takes some doing, but she swallows and interlaces their fingers ] -- and find Peter.
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( sirius: searching )
sirius.
though it had been quick, barely a second or two, he recalls the way sirius had scrambled for him. the way that - once they were finally back to solid, frozen ground. desperate, almost blindly, sirius had lunged for him, shaking from more than just the snow clinging to his clothes, his hair, his skin. james remembers the relief of hitting ground, the pride of it having come through, and the confusion. the confusion of why this strange-
something in james groans, guilty and in pain. sirius. it was sirius - older and thinner and mangled, which were things he would have to deal with later, but him. he wasn't a stranger. he wasn't. he knew him as well as, if not more than, he knew himself. that guilt claws at him, dragging down the walls of his chest, needing more for the entire memory. for the way he'd asked his name, for the way he hadn't recognized the answer, for the flippant, almost careless way sirius had almost died.
that makes two of us a dark thought reminds him, but he pushes it away and walks out down the hallway. he doesn't know what is happening, doesn't know how all of this can fit together, but for now it's enough that lily is okay and - if that voice is to be trusted - so is harry. he knows sirius is here, the same way he knew lily would be, and that is enough to push him to the search. to keep his feet moving as he starts down unfamiliar halls.
belatedly, he realizes his hands are shaking, but he writes that off as unimportant as they ball into fists and he continues.
he has to find sirius. the rest can follow. ]
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James, to Padfoot, translates as that scent--or a braid of scents, really, so entwined with the person that he could never undo the strands to pick out and identify each type. James is a lot of things, but primarily James is the best thing, the one and only best thing, and Padfoot's breath comes at an eager pant as he tears around the next corner, stops on a knut to take in the scent at the baseboard. James, James, Jamesjamesjamesjamesjames.
The pods are here, he has found them. There are sounds, now, people speaking--smells, too, a confusing miasma, but Padfoot does not lose this one important smell. He keeps fixed on it, like a burning string that pulls him along by the nose, and at the other end, he will find James. If he was himself, two legs, Sirius Black, all thin and worn, carrying a stolen wand--this search would take so much longer, this would be so much bloody harder, there are thousands of pods, and somewhere among them there is James, and when he finds him--
The next corner he turns, it's like facing down the sun. There is James: walking, quickly, and there is a smell of distress about him, something damp and a little sweaty and Padfoot barks, once, loud and eager. Here! is what that bark means, there is James and here he is, and he breaks into a full run, barrels right into James with all his full hairy bulk. Wet nose, wagging tail that whaps at him, bony shoulder that pushes up against James' legs--a tight circle around and around and around James, nosing at his hand, licking his wrist--]
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he sees padfoot a second before the mass of him barrels into james' legs, pushing him off balance and forcing him to take a step back from the force of it, just to keep from falling. a smile splits his face, laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep and buried. ]
Hey, slow down, it's okay- [ padfoot weaves tight circles around james' legs, pushing his body against him with each turn. james leans over to run his hands over padfoot's back with each circle, trying to get a better hold to actually run his hands through the mangy black hair but being unable with how quickly padfoot moves. ] C'mon, Pads, wait- [ but then james gives up, giving an over-dramatic sigh as he drops down to his knees to try and push padfoot in front of him, vigorously scratching at his back, his neck, the energy suddenly returned in affection if nothing else, rubbing and pushing and laughing each time padfoot licked at his hands, his wrist, his face. unadulterated excitement, and it lightens just enough from james' shoulders that his smile is just as honest. ]
Alright, alright, you win, okay, I surrender-
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And all the while he's shaking, eager, punctuating each show of affection with little whines, little yaps--twisting to lick at James' hands when he rubs at his sides, scratches at his back.
After some time of this, Padfoot backs up, abruptly, breaks free of James like he has to get a good full look at him. His tongue is hanging out of the corner of his mouth, a mouth that's doing this full dog grin, and he's panting like he's run some great distance. He stands, eager, quivering with how happy he is. Then he crashes to the floor, a big exaggerated SIT. His tail thumps, once more, twice more. James. The moment could go on forever.
Because this is easier too, no deep sadness to undercut pure joy. Padfoot can be wordlessly and completely happy in a way no human could manage. It will end in a moment, he will transform back, he will be himself and he will try to remember this feeling, imperfectly; he will never remember it properly, the way excitement is an all-body feeling.]
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he hears the whines, soft little sounds that james picks up on but can't quite decipher. something hurts when he hears them, something that reminds him of the ice, the way sirius had looked at him in that first moment, when he himself hadn't seen much more than a man, on cracking ice, and the need to help.
james hesitates a bit at the thought, which happens to line up just enough with padfoot backing away from him. watching him with that full, happy grin, shaking with the excitement of it, and then he sits. james, in turns, sits back on his legs, leaning his weight back to his calves and ankles, mimicking padfoot in his own way. and for a few moments, all they do is sit - padfoot watching james, excited and happy and trembling with the extent of it. and in that moment, james yearns for it. can feel the urge to change hovering right under his skin. it'd be easy, too easy, to shift into it and take off down the halls.
but he doesn't, sitting back and waiting for the moment that's about to come. waiting for sirius, from padfoot. james realizes, then, that he needs that as much as he needs anything else.
he lets out a breath, not quite a sigh but close enough, and he feels his chest cave in a bit with it. ]
C'mon, mate.
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And then it's that all-over inside-out shiver, and instead of Padfoot, it's Sirius. He isn't in his prison uniform any longer; he's put that aside for other clothes, cut in the style of what's worn planetside, in dark colours. His hair has seen a trim since he's arrived, no longer elbow-length and matted, and he looks significantly less skeletal--still a man who has not had an easy time, maybe, but no longer starving in addition to all of that.
There is nothing at all strange about licking James' face as a dog and then turning back human a few moments later. Not for them, at least. There is nothing at all strange about the way that Sirius stares at James, hungry, eager, a little desperate, as human emotion seeps back in to give nuance to all that happiness. His breath shakes, when he lets it out--and he smiles, he can't help himself.]
Hi, Prongs.
[--Which is an understatement, which is what makes it funny, which is why he wants to laugh. He wants to grab hold of James again, as he had in that simmy lation. Latent dog memories echo just how brilliant that would be. James, a novelty that Sirius will never get tired of, not now, not ever. He starts to get to his feet.]
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but then he's sirius again, sirius sirius, and james watches the shift with the casual curiosity he believes he'd always have for magic. he knows he can do it, that everything he sees is just part of the animagus form they'd do diligently studied for so long, but to see it happen each time still caught his eye.
and then, sirius. thinner than james remembers, with longer hair, a taunter face. more and more details add up as james sees him for the first time since the ice, a weird amalgamation of that same guilt, but also relief, excitement, happiness. having his best mate here automatically made it all feel a little easier to carry, a little lighter of a load. physically, james relaxes seeing him, a dip to his shoulders and a breath of tension, exhaled. ]
Padfoot.
[ but then sirius smiles, then sirius just about laughs, and james feels his own smile break his face and grow - just as bit - as they both move to stand. he dusts off his knees a bit when he gets to his feet before fully straightening. when he does, there's an almost hesitation in the way he looks at the other - unsure, momentarily, of what exactly he's even supposed to say.
that, on its own, is too alien and entirely too uncomfortable, so james lets out a puff of air to push himself past it. ]
Looking a little worse for wear there, Pads. [ and then whatever had been holding that off, whatever had been holding it back, snaps. james just about surges forward, closing the distance and throwing his arms around sirius' shoulders and burying his face into whatever kind of space clothes sirius is apparently wearing. ]
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Now it does not matter. James steps in close and Sirius finally grabs hold of him. No ginger careful grip, this. He seizes onto James and pulls him in, and the heat behind his eyes is growing worse by the second and his laugh--when he manages it--is damp, awful, he feels like something in his chest is fighting very hard to get out, and he laughs again, ragged, as he crushes James against him.
Shut up, is what he begins to say, git, you have no idea, or else what he wants to say, but instead he puts one hand to the back of James' neck and pulls him in closer, staring fixedly at the wall beyond him until it blurs.
If the Orbiters asked Sirius to walk into space right now, he would do it. Worth it for this moment. For James.]
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( remus: pls help )
this was a mistake. and she knew it was a mistake, to split up, to divide and conquer. it made sense at the time, to split up and track down remus and sirius separately, but now lily's skin is just crawling with the constant sensation of being watched. it doesn't help, really, that she knows that she probably is -- either by the sleeping people or the beings that brought them here, it doesn't matter.
she should have stayed with james. this was a stupid idea. what if voldemort is here? being alone was idiotic. but lily is braver than this, and she certainly doesn't need james to defend herself, and james doesn't need her to defend himself, so this is all just a bunch of inconsequential complaining --
but really, lily can be found trying . . . to do something. she has a list of people she needs to find (sirius, remus, peter, harry). part of that search is in examining the pods. part of that is trying to find the way off this . . . ship. but in the midst of all of that, lily soon happens upon a quasi-familiar face, and it takes her a slight moment or two to place why it's a quasi-familiar face, because the remus she knows is . . . younger?
but lily pushes that aside, immediately, to quicken her pace. trying not to be outwardly excited, or panicked, or really show much of anything except being determined, but loud enough to hear: ]
Remus.
[ and honestly, the only thought in her head at seeing him, aside from crushing relief, is please already know.
telling james had been difficult enough. ]
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He's worn out, and he's unfocused, but when he looks at her his face loses color and his jaw goes slack without pause. No moments necessary. She might as well have walked out of a photograph. Recognising isn't the same as believing, though. He unfolds his arms and turns away from the pod to face her, but he doesn't move toward her. ]
Lily, [ he answers, quiet and hoarse, and maybe the expression on his face answers any outstanding questions about what he does or doesn't know. He only doesn't look like he's seen a ghost because, you know, they see ghosts all the time, ghosts are nothing. Lily Potter alive is not nothing. For a second he smiles, but it quickly fades back to a hungry sort of disbelief, like if he looks away he might miss something important. ] Look at you.
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she's dead. but here, she's not. and james isn't. and remus can give her some information she still doesn't know, which is -- where is her son.
but first, she slows -- almost hesitates, because remus hesitated, but lily soon abandons said hesitation in favor of stepping forward and seizing remus into a tight hug, exhaling quickly. ]
I know, I already know.
[ it's muffled, into his shirt -- a quick reassurance, that remus doesn't need to tell her what she had to tell james. ]
James is here too, he went to find Sirius. [ because of course james went to find sirius. obviously. but pushing past that, to focus on the more important piece: ] I haven't found Harry yet.
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He is a hugger, so his arms go around her and stay there, loose enough she can step back when she's ready but certainly not encouraging it. She still doesn't disappear. He can feel how hot her breath is when she talks. Merlin. God. The last time he saw her—he can't remember her face then. It was unfamiliar, made alien by lifelessness, and now it's a blurry spot, so he remembers feeling unsettled more than he remembers her face. The whole funeral is that way. He doesn't remember the helpful, but he remembers his father's worried hand on his shoulder, and the hiccupy crying from the wizard behind him. He remembers that Lily would have hated the robes they buried her in, but nobody had asked him.
But she already knows, so he doesn't have to say it. He remembers to inhale again, belatedly, at James, which is dizzying enough without adding in asphyxiation. James is looking for Sirius, of course, obviously, and it's equally obvious that he'll find him if he hasn't already, and coincidentally enough Remus' phone dings in his pocket, but he doesn't take it out to check just yet. And then Harry. ]
Neither have we. We've been looking, we've...
[ They've tried. He's tried. It suddenly doesn't feel like enough. ]
He's wonderful, Lily, [ he says—impulsive, trying to be reassuring. It should probably occur to him she might be looking for a toddler, but it doesn't yet. ] He's so much like you. He has to be here somewhere.
[ Because if the Orbiters bothered to save someone like him—or someone like, no offense, Sirius—they couldn't have left behind Harry Potter. Surely. ]
We'll find him.
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lily pulls back abruptly at that, her hair falling into her eyes, but her hands shift to grip remus' sleeves. her eyes are wide, almost hopeful. because remus says he's wonderful, and then he has to be here somewhere. of course harry is wonderful, he is a perfect toddler, but -- he's so much like you.
and before she can stop herself: ]
Harry survived.
[ it's whispered, almost in disbelief.
voldemort had broken into their home. james had died first. lily had heard it -- the struggle had been brief, because voldemort did not want to waste time. and lily had been in harry's room, trying to figure out what to do. quickly realizing that she had no time to run, that running was not an option. and then voldemort had come into the room -- and lily was killed. but harry hadn't been, because lily had been in front of him, and had refused to move, refused to put him down.
but she hadn't known (obviously) if voldemort had succeeded.
digesting that takes a moment. that is impossible. there is no way harry should have survived. did voldemort just leave? had killing the potters been enough? did voldemort take harry alive? -- no, because remus knows harry, and suddenly there is another rush of emotion, because harry grew up without them -- but surely sirius and remus would have ensured harry would have been fine --
none of that matters, at the moment. all of that detail can come later. lily loosens her grip on remus' sleeves -- finally letting him go to quickly wipe her eyes with a free hand, inhaling and exhaling slowly. and parsing through the zillion thoughts running through her head, the only one that remains is a very quiet, yet resolute: ]
He lost.
[ for the first time since arriving, lily feels as though she's on solid ground. ]
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[ Remus sounds surprised, almost, which isn't at all logical. Of course she wouldn't know. It's just been such a fundamental fact of the universe for so long that it wouldn't have occurred to Remus, in his current holy fuck state, to clarify. Harry survived, Voldemort lost. Harry ended the war. Lily ended the war, from what little Remus could understand of Dumbledore's cryptic answers to questions like what do you mean Quirinus Quirrell had Voldemort living in the back of his head and they somehow got Harry alone?
That's old news. New news: Lily Potter is alive. But Remus tries to be useful instead of just staring at her some more, rubbing one of his arms where she'd just been gripping his sleeve. ]
He lost that night. He couldn't hurt Harry, after you... [ died. Of course. He doesn't want to say it, and he also doesn't want to start pouring out information—about Voldemort's demise with all its for now caveats, about Peter and Sirius, about Harry's life afterwards. If he starts he won't be able to find a clear place to stop.
His phone dings again, insistent, to remind him there's a message he hasn't looked at. Remus pulls it out of his pocket and holds it low, long enough to see the word on the screen and tap L, I, L, Y, send. ]
Sirius found James. [ Add the thought of that reunion, that further impossibility and further righting of the world, to the pile of things making him feel a bit lightheaded. He knows he probably looks a bit slow and overwhelmed at the moment, not to mention old. He puts his hand to his forehead for a moment, thumb digging into his temple while he gives his head a clearing little shake, and smiles again. ] You'll have to forgive me. Us. It's been twelve years.
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sirius found james. good. that means james stuck to his word and didn't do anything incredibly stupid, though lily isn't so sure she has the faith in the two of them together to continue keeping to that word. but -- twelve years? us. so sirius is older, too?
that would make harry thirteen.
-- she closes her eyes for a moment, visibly trying to shut down the rush of thoughts through her head. overwhelming isn't even an appropriate word for it, it's somehow worse than that. this gaping hole inside her that doesn't seem to want to go away, the thought that harry is now thirteen and (probably) at school and he had no parents. and suddenly, lily wants to ask a million questions, about what happened, in an effort to know . . . but she also knows that there's a time, and a place.
and it isn't here, surrounded by pods. ]
We can go through that later. [ finally, and she opens her eyes. she looks exhausted, but resolved. ] All of it, it's . . . you don't have to apologize. [ lily is having a difficult time envisioning the gap that now exists between them, between herself and her friend, but: ] What we need to do right now is find Sirius and James before . . .
[ but she's missing an important piece, here, and something remus needs to know, and lily sucks in a breath. ]
James didn't know. He didn't remember. Halloween, and I told him, but -- [ but it's going to sound extraordinarily different coming from sirius, and belatedly, lily is realizing splitting up was a stupid idea, and she huffs to herself, blowing her hair out of her face, allowing herself to look less overwhelmed and more typically-annoyed. ] You know James, I was crying and he was so focused on trying to make that stop that he probably didn't listen to a single word I said.
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Maybe they won't cause trouble. There's only so much trouble to cause up here. If Sirius is sending messages it means he has human fingers and therefore as much of a rational human brain as he ever does.
Remus nods again. He is still sort of looking at her like he's concerned she'll disappear and he has to make sure he has a good imprint of her in his memory when she does. He'll probably stop eventually. Maybe in a few weeks. ]
If he needs to hear it again, I can help. [ Sirius, too, if he isn't too busy staring soulfully into his eyes. Remus smiles again, and it's faint and overwhelmed, but this time it sticks to his face instead of sliding right back off, despite what he's about to say. ] We'll have to talk about it. Time doesn't seem to matter to the Orbiters—
[ thank God, present tense, indicative mood, the Potters are alive ]
—so anyone could be here. There are wizards here who fought Grindlewald, too, and...
[ He could be here. Voldemort could be here. Peter could be here. It's implied, and Remus almost says it out loud, but Lily already looks so tired. So maybe they can talk about dark wizards and possible executions after all the crying and hugging is done. ]
We should find James and Sirius.
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