- Text Size +
Going for a Walk


“Yaxley… Bring me our little guest.”

Corban Yaxley ran from the parlour room, where Voldemort had taken roost, and he ran down the hall to the stairs that led down to the House Elves’ quarters in the bowels of Malfoy Manor. The dreary room had scattered bits of straw and a dingy basin of water, which dripped from a rusty pipe in the wall. The dim torches flickered over a small girl, laying in the midst of the straw, shivering, a teensy little house elf curled up in the safety of her arms.

The girl was Lucy Minchum.

Yaxley thundered over and grabbed her by the back of her dress, yanking her quite suddenly out of sleep, destroying the dream she’d been having - a rare moment of near peace in the middle of all the horrible that she’d been through since being stolen away from her grandfather’s office. He tore the elf, Dobby, away and tossed it onto the straw carelessly, even as the girl cried out.

Back upstairs, Lord Voldemort grinned as Yaxley carried the small girl into the room and shoved her to her knees at the foot of the Lord. He forced her head to bow and thank yanked it back so she was forced to stare at Voldemort.

Lucy Minchum was a wee too young to recognize Voldemort, too young to know what sort of danger she was in. She just stared up at him and asked, “Where’s my mumma?”

“Dead,” snickered Yaxley, grinning, “Murdered her didn’t I?” he cackled. The girl’s eyes flashed with fear as she trembled before Voldemort - tiny and shivering on her knees. “Left her body there to be found by your bloody grandfather… Gonna murder him, too, quick as we get the chance… ruddy bastard…”

“Silence, Yaxley,” hissed Voldemort.

Yaxley shut up instantly.

The tiny girl was crying, great crocodile tears pouring over her tiny pink cheeks. She stared up at Voldemort with eyes that pleaded for comfort… She was so unused to this sort of treatment, she was a very well loved child. These rough voices and non-gentle touches made no sense to her little mind… For a moment, the death eaters in the room thought that Voldemort was about to show the tiny thing mercy, as his hand came out from the folds of his robes, long and pale, and stroked Lucy Minchum’s chin slowly… then, without warning, Voldemort’s hand turned and roughly plucked a handful of the tiny girl’s hairs from her head so hard that she let out a shriek of surprise and she began to cry even harder. He handed them to Yaxley. “There. That ought to tie you over some time.”

The other death eaters in the room laughed.

Yaxley grinned.

Voldemort turned back to the girl and his grin split his terrible face. She stared up at him, tears still clinging to her eyes. “As for you…” he whispered, “Well. We’ve got what we wanted, haven’t we?” He turned to Yaxley. “Dispose of her.”

“Don’t worry little one,” Yaxley said, “Yer ‘bout to go see yer mum right quick.” He raised his wand, and a grin spread across his face, even as he opened his mouth to speak the killing curse.

“Wait.” Walburga’s voice cut across the room - ringing and clear.

Every face turned to look.

“Will it work if she is dead?” Walburga asked.

Yaxley looked at Voldemort.

“Why wouldn’t it?” snarled the Dark Lord.

Walburga’s voice shook. “Freeing the girl’s spirit opens many doors.”

Voldemort waved his palm at Yaxley to lower his wand. The little girl continued to cry, her tears echoing off the room walls. Yaxley looked supremely disappointed. Voldemort sneered at the child, simpering at his feet. His eyes swiveled o Walburga’s. “It’s your responsibility, then, to tend to it.” He looked away, dismissing the child’s existence from his mind.

Quickly, Walburga stepped forward. “Yes, my Lord,” she murmured, and she grabbed the child roughly by the wrist again… and disapparated away.




James and Peter had gotten into a playful argument over real estate on the couch before the fire and were wrestling each other when James spotted Lily Evans’s ginger hair headed for the portrait hole, her bookbag slung ‘round her shoulders. He rolled over, away from Peter, and scrambled to his feet just as she was disappearing into the corridor. “I ceede, Pete,” James announced, bolting for the portrait hole that was just slingng closed behind Lily. He pranced along after her, was about to call her name for her to wait up for him… when she paused and he caught a glimpse of a bag of feed in her hands.

A thrill went through him.

James was lucky. He happened to have the invisibility cloak in his pocket and he yanked it free, ducking behind one of the suits of armor, his heart racing as he made certain it was covering all of him, and then he raced after her down the hallway. He caught up with her on the stairs and had to force himself to walk calmly, quietly…

Lily shivered suddenly, looking around. She was alone, but she got the very distinct feeling that she was not. She glanced about as she climbed down the stairs, unnerved by the feeling of not being alone…

Together they walked through the school and James’s heart ached as he stared at her, wishing that he could tear the cloak away and grab her hand and hold it and not have her push him off. He wanted more than anything to walk places with Lily Evans and be visible and have her actually want him there… If only.....

They reached the front doors of the castle and were about to go out them when a voice cut through the dark.

“Lily?”

She turned around, nearly banging into James, who only just ducked out of the way. She squinted through the dark… it was Severus Snape, coming out of the shadows. “Sev.”

“What’re you doing?”

She hesitated. “Just… just going for a walk.”

Severus Snape’s eyes shot about the room suddenly, turning to the stairwell and drawing his wand… a bit of a panicked look about him. He’d just heard James Potter’s thoughts - just very clearly seen a flash of his brain thinking of hexing Severus, calling him Snivellus Snape... and he felt a shiver of mistrust go through him.

“Alone?” Severus demanded, and he watched her eyes… tried to see where they moved… Surely she knew Potter was there, surely Lily Evans wasn’t stupid enough to think of going outside in the darkness alone… No, Severus couldn’t believe such a thing of her. She was going out of the castle to meet someone. She was going out of the castle to meet James Potter. A sneer crawled across Severus’s face…

Suddenly there were footsteps echoing in the upstairs corridor.

Lily’s heart rate picked up, “Sev, it’ll be Filch. Go hide. Quick before he catches you.” She turned and pushed open the door and slid out into the dark. She didn’t know it, of course, but she was followed by James, and she ran across the grounds as fast as her legs would carry her, afraid Severus Snape might try to follow her. But he didn’t.

The forest was dark and there was a bracing sort of cold in the dark of the trees that made her wish she’d taken something warmer than her cardigan and she shivered. James had broken away from her among the trees, racing off a different direction to change, and Lily arrived to the clearing alone, her hands shaking as she sat on the log and opened the bag of feed in the moonlight, using her wand to do a severing charm along the top seam. She looked about the dark hopefully, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, unsure how else to call a stag…

Truth be told, this was not the first time she’d come out since the night she’d come out with Remus. She’d been out to the woods twice more since then, including the night of the full moon, upon which she thought she might have heard him crashing through the trees, but hadn’t actually laid eyes upon him… She just wanted so much to see him alone, without anyone else there. She didn’t want to share the stag - not even with Remus Lupin.

Suddenly through the dark he came, and a thrill went up through Lily as she stood up, straightening her dress as though she were seeing royalty and she bit her lower lip. The stag walked closer, picking its way over the bracken. She felt a lump rise up in her throat and she reached into the feed bag quickly, filling her palm and holding it out in the general direction of the stag.

The stag’s nose twitched as he neared her and his tail flickered side to side. He looked happy and she got a thrill at the idea that perhaps he was happy to see her the same as she was happy to see him. He walked up and sniffed at her hand, honking deep in his throat, and quickly ate the feed she offered, his lips tickling her palm as they moved around on them. She grinned and when he’d finished, she moved her palm across his snout and down his long, soft neck to his front haunch and she smiled, “Hello there,” she whispered.

Among the trees around them, fireflies danced and zipped about, in and out of shadow, flickering gold in the night. There were crickets singing. Lily slid her arms around the stag’s neck and she felt his warmth course through her, her heart in her throat as she breathed in the lovely, comforting smell… like flannel pyjamas and musk and the forest… it was such a wonderful smell. She shivered with delight as the stag rested his great head against hers.

Absolutely insane, she thought. This can’t be real. And yet it was. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting her memory record the moment’s every detail as she clung onto him.

James was doing the same. His nose was caught up in the scent of her hair, of her shampoo and he wanted so much to tell her the truth, but he was so afraid - afraid that she would be angry, that she’d shove him away the moment she knew it was him… and it felt so good, having Evans there, against him like this, touching his fur, his shoulder… having her arms snaked about his neck, her face pressed into his body. He could hear her heartbeat. He felt weaker and stronger all at once because of her being there holding him like that… and his courage sat in a knot in his throat. He couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t break the hug she had him in... if he did, and she ran off, he didn’t think he’d ever recover from the broken heart it would cause.

So there they stood in the woods… Lily hugging the stag, and he stag dreaming of a day that he could hug her back… wishing it was him, in his human form, that Lily Evans snuck away to the woods to see. He would hold her so close, he’d stroke her hair, he’d whisper nice things in her ear… his heart ached…




Back in Gryffindor tower, Peter waited for James to come back, but when he didn’t return, he decided to go up to the dormitory… He climbed the steps quickly, carrying a stack of books - both his and James’s textbooks. They were mighty heavy, all those volumes teetering one atop the other… and he struggled with the door knob… he pushed it opened…

“PETER FOR BLOODY HELL’S SAKE, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” Sirius hollered from the bed, and Peter squeaked, dropping all of the books and they went every which way, like a rainstorm of literature. And Peter’s eyes widened, seeing far more of his mates than he ever wanted to see, and he ran back out of the room, letting the door slam closed behind him.