Firelight

Firelight

Part One: Revelations

It wasn't until late one night, near the end of her fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that Lily Evans realized that she could fall in love with James Potter.

It was a few days before all the fifth years would be taking their O.W.L.s, and tensions were running high. It was unusual to see any fifth year who wasn't balancing a pile of books and parchments on one arm, while waving their wand distractedly and muttering facts about anything from the life expectancy of Flobberworms to the proper execution of the Iactus Charm under their breaths. Most of the other students were steering clear of the fifth years ever since the incident in the Great Hall when a rather stressed Ravenclaw had leapt for the throat of the unfortunate first year who had knocked her stack of notes onto the floor.

If she hadn't been utterly exhausted, Lily reflected one night as she crammed, she would have been amused at the wary glances she and her yearmates had been getting for the past few days. Apparently it was a known fact that it was only a matter of time before someone else snapped. Lily had heard a rumor that the seventh year Slytherins were running a betting pool on who would be the first to go.

Truth be told, she would be willing to place a few bets of her own. She knew that the Gryffindors at least were not only existing on an average of two hours of sleep per night, but were managing this on a diet that consisted entirely of tea, coffee and chocolate. The next freak-out would probably be sooner rather than later. Of course, there were advantages to any situation. Their classes had become very entertaining. Just yesterday a dull History of Magic class had been livened up when Evan Rosier's slumbering head had slipped from his hand and smacked onto his desktop. The resulting thunk had woken Remus from his own nap, causing him to sit straight up in his seat, shrieking "Don't warn the tadpoles!" to the delight of his bored classmates. Professor Binns hadn't even paused in his lecture.

Lily smiled at the memory. It had been the bright point of another interminably long day. Recently, all the days had dragged on. She sighed, and checked the time. It was almost two in the morning. She had been in her bed, reading by wandlight, for four hours. Her eyes were sore and all she wanted to do was go to sleep. No, she admonished herself, you have to finish reviewing your Potion notes. You know you always forget the difference between...Her thought trailed off as she yawned hugely. Lily began to sort listlessly through the mess of parchments on her bed, rubbing the crick in her neck with one hand. She swore quietly when she remembered: she had left those particular notes in the common room. Her shoulders slumped. She was tired. She was covered in sweat because she was conscientious enough to keep her bed curtains closed so that her light wouldn't bother her roommates, despite the fact that they were having a heat wave and Gryffindor Tower was stuffy and sweltering. She definitely did not want to get out of bed to find notes about a subject she didn't like. But...But.

As she walked silently down the steps to the common rooms, she cursed her work ethic. Why couldn't she be a lazy and careless student like her roommate Fiona? It would make things so much easier. Lily played with her sweat-sticky hair as she stepped into the common room, twisting it into a bun; than let it fall back down over her shoulders as she stared in surprise.

Despite the late hour, the common room wasn't empty. A magical fire, which provided light but no heat, was flickering in the fireplace, sending eldritch shadows across the room. It lit up the couch next to it, and the four boys sprawled there.

The Marauders.

Even as she thought it, Lily smiled slightly at the arrogance of the name. The type of romantic and self-aggrandizing name that only a group of overly imaginative boys would have chosen for themselves. Although sometimes she wondered. She had seen for herself the results of some of their pranks, and had been told of others. But she suspected that their greatest deeds went unknown to all but each other.

She stared at them now, fondly. They were sound asleep, although it was obvious they had actually been trying to study. She looked at each one, examining them; she liked watching people while they slept.

Sirius sat sideways on the couch, leaning back against the armrest, with a large Transfiguration book open on his bent legs. He looked younger when he was asleep. His handsome face was relaxed, without its customary twist of humor or furious snarl. Peter was curled up on the other side of the couch, tucked into a ball with his head on Sirius' feet. His light hair was sticking to his forehead, and his face twitched as he slept. A deck of Tarot cards had slipped from his dangling hand and was scattered across the floor. Remus sat cross-legged on the floor next to the fallen cards. His head was tilted back and resting against the front of the couch. His mouth had fallen open and she could hear the soft whistle of his breathing. The parchment in his lap was soaked with ink where his limp hand had dropped a quill.

She saved James for last. He sat on the floor next to Remus. His legs were stretched out in a way that would leave him terribly cramped when he woke up in the morning, and his head had fallen sideways onto Remus' shoulder. The wand in his hand and the assorted objects on the floor around him indicated that he had been practicing spells when sleep had overtaken him. His glasses had slid down his face and were dangling rather precariously from his nose.

Lily stood in the middle of the common room watching them with a smile on her face. They were so...adorable, somehow. For a second, as the shadows danced across their faces, she could almost see the eleven-year-olds they had been when they'd first met. It seemed so long ago now. They weren't children anymore, and neither was she.

She stared again at James. She was closer to him now then to any of the others, even Remus. They had sat next to each other in Ancient Runes all this year. Their friendship, which had previously been fairly casual, had grown stronger as the year progressed.

And as she looked at him, at his narrow unlovely face, at the faces of his friends, she felt a sudden surge of emotion. It was so odd and unexpected that it almost drove her to her knees. She was overcome with something like foreboding; a wave of fear and terrible sorrow. It was completely irrational, but she was certain, absolutely certain in that moment that the future of the boys in front of her would not have a happy ending. Tears welled up in Lily's eyes; her throat was tight. She sat down hard on the carpeted floor as she struggled not to cry. Pressing her fists against her aching chest, she tipped her head back, closed her eyes and fought for control. She didn't understand, she couldn't understand...Oh God, oh God please, don't let this be a premonition, she prayed. Divination wasn't a subject in which she was particularly good. She had never seen visions in a teacup or a crystal ball. So why was she feeling this now, why did she have this horrible sense of knowing...

No. No, she would not let it happen. Lily was suddenly furious as well as grief-stricken. She was filled with a sort of fierce protectiveness, and her thoughts began churning in a different direction. It wasn't right, James was a good person, he was funny and happy and liked to laugh and she wouldn't let him die, she wouldn't, he couldn't die, she didn't want...A revelation. She didn't want to lose him. She couldn't stand the thought of losing James. James, above all others. Lily stared at his face, examining it anew, seeing every detail as if for the first time.

Oh, she thought dazedly. Oh.

Slowly her maelstrom of unwelcome emotions faded away. She was just a girl sitting in a dark stuffy room, staring at four gangly teenage boys.

What do I do now? The thought rewound itself over and over again inside her skull. She had no answer, so she stumbled to her feet and picked up her Potions notes with a trembling hand. Before mounting the steps to her dormitory, she looked back. A little shyly, she blew a kiss to his sleeping form. She wasn't in love with James Potter. Not yet. But...But. It was, she sensed, as so many things are: only a matter of time...

*End of Part One*