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Lily’s Letter


The second trip to Hogsmeade was a quiet affair - only James and Peter went. It happened to have fallen three days before the full moon and Remus was violently throwing up, gagging over the smells of feasts being prepared in the kitchens, which he could smell even all the way up in the boys dormitory. Remus had been sick so many times during the night that his knees hurt from leaning over the loo and Sirius was exhausted from having knelt right beside him in the prefect’s toilet on the fourth floor, brushing his hair out of his face and patting him with a cool, damp cloth as fever broke out over him. James felt bad going without them and so he and Peter spent a whole galleon on buying all sorts of chocolate bars for Remus to cheer him up and licorice wands and clouds of cobweb candy for Sirius. They had their butterbeers, sure, and each bought a pretzel twisted into the shape of a Christmas wreath with red and green coloured salts clinging the hot dough, but they didn’t stay long, either, before going back to the castle to their mates.

Sirius sat up staring at Remus that night, hugging his knees as he balled himself up by the footboard. James woke up at one point during the evening, startled awake by a dream that he couldn’t recall clearly but had seemed very vitally important… He blinked into the dark as his eyes adjusted. “You alright, Prongs?” Sirius asked lowly.

James reached for his glasses and sat up slowly, jamming them onto his face. “I… I s’pose.” He stared at his duvet cover and sighed. “Just a funny dream.”

“What of?”

“Dunno. I forgot it already.” He frowned.

Sirius said, “Sorry. Probably just as well. Means you won’t psyche yourself into having it again, at least?”

“Yeah.” He picked at the hem on the duvet.

Sirius sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Are you alright?” James asked, turning the question ‘round.

Sirius said, “I’m so fucking tired, Prongs, but - what if he gets ill again, what if --”

“I can watch him a bit if you want to sleep.”

Sirius chewed his lower lip. “I doubt very much that I could actually sleep. I’m too worried about him to sleep.”

“I know what you mean,” James said, thinking of how worried he felt about Lily Evans.

“Full moon tomorrow night,” Sirius murmured.

James nodded.

“I didn’t realize it was so close to the Yule Ball, the moon this month.”

“I don’t think any of us thought of it,” James shrugged.

“I should have,” Sirius replied. “How is Remus supposed to dance at the ball if he can barely stand up?”

James shrugged again.

“He’s so stubborn, you know he’ll do it either way, and I’m afraid he’ll be hurting and not telling me.”

James sighed. “Well, you lot are welcome to join me up here for the Great Homeworkpalooza I’ll be having here in the dormitory… seeing as my Yule Ball’s been destroyed, too.”

Sirius hugged his knees.




The owl post delivered a letter to James on the morning of the day before the Yule Ball - two days before the students would be departing for holiday on the Hogwarts Express. James looked at the letter as the tawny owl that delivered it ate a strip of bacon Peter held up. He blinked in disbelief at the familiar handwriting, jaw dropped.

“What is it?” Sirius asked.

“It’s… from Evans.”

Sirius looked at Remus, then back to James with a giant grin upon his face, “Evans wrote you a letter?”

“Yes.” James looked pale with shock, “Evans wrote me a letter.”

“Well go on then, open it. Maybe she’s sent you a snog-o-gram.”

James ripped the envelope open and unfolded the bit of stationary it contained.

Potter,
I’m sorry about the Yule Ball. I hope you’ll still go with one of the girls that have been bugging you on it. I hate to think that you won’t. I know you thought I might’ve been pranking you when I asked, but I hope you know I wasn’t. I really wanted to go.
My father’s funeral is tomorrow evening -- and so is the Yule Ball. All I can think of is how different that night will be compared to what I’d pictured. So do please go, I should like to think that at least one of us is dancing that night.
I’ll owe you a date, if I come back to school, that is.
Trust me, I’d do anything to be back there with you lot at Hogwarts… it’s miserable here. Mum’s practically comatose. She was alright at first, or at least operational, but she’s gone rapidly downhill since, and Petunia still won’t speak to me. She reckons I’m the reason he’s dead -- because it’s You-Know-Who’s followers and they’re wizards and the family would have nothing to do with You-Know-Who if it wasn’t for me and magic. She reckons it’s all my fault. Part of me reckons she’s right.
I don’t know if I should come back after the holiday… I’m afraid of putting my family in any more danger than I already have.
Enough of that. I don’t need to be gushing to you and ruining your day. I just wanted to apologize about missing the Ball with you. I’m sorry Potter. I just don’t have a single person to talk to and my heart just hurts so-so-so much. I’m sorry again.
Miss you lot so very much. -Evans


James’s face had melted from excitement to concern to anger to more concern to worry. He looked up. “She’s… she’s thinking of not coming back to Hogwarts,” he choked.

“WHAT?” Sirius looked aghast. “Why? What’s she on about?!” James handed the letter to Sirius shakily. Sirius read it over with in seconds. “This is not happening, no,” he said firmly. “I will not allow it. Absolutely not.”

James took the letter back as Sirius handed it off to her.

James stared at the loops and swirls of her hand writing. The tiny circles instead of dots over the i’s.

“We need to go see her and talk her out of it,” Sirius was saying.

“Yeah,” James agreed.

“We’ll go during holiday,” Sirius said, and he started making up the plans… but James was only half listening, tracing the shape of her letters with his fingertip, thinking.




James was antsy throughout all their classes - last day before holiday, there wasn’t a lot of paying attention from anyone, really. The Prewett’s had another game show sort of class, which James only half paid attention to that, or to Professor Clearwater’s latest assessment on somebody else’s terrible charcoal drawing in Divination. After lunch, Remus and Sirius skipped their Muggle Studies class and the four Marauders went out to the Shrieking Shack and though the other three talked and and joked around him, James couldn’t quite bring himself to join in.

“Oi, Prongs, you’re awful quiet,” Sirius accused.

“Yeah,” James murmured, “I just can’t stop thinking on Evans.”

Remus patted James’s knee, “I’m sorry mate,” he said. His throat sounded raw from all the throwing up he’d been doing. “I really wanted you lot to go to the Ball together. I was looking forward to seeing you get to dance with Evans.”

“It’s less about the Ball, and more about just being worried about her,” James corrected. He sighed, “Petunia hurts her so much. I hate Petunia. She always says things to break Evans’s heart… it isn’t right. Evans’s too good a person to be hurt like that by someone she loves as much as she loves Petunia.” He shook his head.

“Petunia sounds like a right bitch and I plan to tell her that to her bleedin’ ugly little face if I ever meet her,” Sirius announced.

“She’s actually pretty,” murmured James. “Or she might be if you didn’t know how horrid a personality she has.” He smirked. “Although she does have a bit of a long neck.”

Sirius chuckled, remembering hearing the story of how Petunia’s neck had become so much longer than the usual neck.

“Well, no worries, James,” Sirius said after a pause, “We’ll be going to see her soon and she can talk to us and we’ll be there for her.”

James looked up. Something about the way Sirius had said it had struck a chord and he’d realized something. “No… no we won’t.”

“What?” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Yeah we will - I’ve got it all planned out - while we’re on holiday, we’ll sneak out of the castle and --”

“Not not we. I.”

Peter, Sirius, and Remus all looked between one another, then back to James.

“I will sneak out of the castle - tomorrow, instead of going to the Yule Ball or doing stupid homework that’s not even due until after holiday anyway - and I’ll go to Evans’s house and -- and I’ll be there for her.”

Remus looked nervously at James. “Is that… you know… a good idea?” he asked tentatively.

James said, “She wrote to me. Not to all four of us -- to me.”

“Yes but she didn’t exactly say come visit me at my home,” Remus pointed out.

“No. She said she needs someone who will listen to her because she hasn’t got that anymore. She was saying that she…. she needs her stag.”




There was no talking James out of it. Remus tried, worried what might happen if James just showed up at the Evans’s house, especially alone with no back-up support in case things went sour. But James was talking of going the very next day, under the cover of the Yule Ball. No way would Remus be up for what James’s plans were - sneaking out the Whomping Willow tunnel, down to Hogsmeade from the Shack, taking the Knight Bus all the way to Lily’s house in Cokeworth…

“Wait just a few extra days, mate, and we’ll all go together --” Sirius tried pleading with him.

“No,” James said. “Her dad’s funeral is tomorrow. She needs the stag tomorrow. A few extra days will be a few days too late. She needs me now.”

They stayed in the Shack, all in their animal forms in the living room that night, Remus’s wolf whimpering quietly, continuously needing to be stopped from gnawing on himself. He’d even tried to gnaw on James’s hind leg and he’d had to nudge him off with the branches of his antlers. Snuffles curled himself up around the wolf.

The next day, James packed his duffle bag while Sirius and Remus were asleep in the furthest bed, snuggling around each other’s human forms just like they’d spent the night as canines. Peter stood beside him, helping him by doing things like folding stuff he’d just shoved in. “I think it’s really brave and good of you to do this for Lily.”

James shrugged, “I just can’t stand the idea of her hurting. I want to make it better. This is the only way I know how to do that.”

And so it was that on the evening of the Yule Ball, as the sun was getting ready to set in the late afternoon, instead of getting ready, James Potter ran across the grounds of Hogwarts, looking back over his shoulder to be sure nobody was watching as he tossed a rock at the foot of the Whomping Willow, running along the tunnel, sticking out his wand arm on the street in Hogsmeade, and climbing aboard the Knight Bus, clutching the duffle back with one arm and a small box with another - something he’d stopped to buy her in Hogsmeade when he and Peter had been on the weekend. Ernie the conductor smiled and took James’s coins, directing him to have a seat. James clung to his wand in one fist and Lily’s letter in the other, closing his eyes as the Knight Bus tore out of Hogsmeade and on its way.