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hh_mirror2007-05-24 11:37 pm
toujours-sirius.livejournal.com) wrote in hh_mirror2007-05-24 11:37 pm
Entry tags:
Open Your Eyes: Closed RP (Sirius, Lily, and Harry)
((Backdated to the morning after Sirius and Lily discovered Voldemort was back and got into a massive fight over it. There's still a Harry-Sirius socking RP I need to do in which Harry and Sirius discuss the aftermath of the fight and generally have some good godfather-godson time, but for now that will have to wait. This RP comes after that.
Oh, and beware teh emoness. It burns!))
The only reason Sirius had slept well was his good friend Firewhisky. Lily had apparently lost her mind, and the upshot was that he was now kicked out of their suite and possibly broken up with. More importantly, it scared the hell out of him that Lily was out and about the castle by herself, being angry and rash and probably not particularly careful even though Voldemort could be anywhere. It was exactly the reason she had wanted to confine Harry to Slythendor, and yet she couldn't take the same advice for herself. And there was nothing he could do about it, because everything he had tried had only made things worse.
But the Firewhisky had been able to go only so far. Not wanting to drink in front of Harry, Sirius had started in on a bottle after the both of them had finally gone to bed, and even then, there was only so much he had allowed himself to drink, because he needed to be alert in case something happened to Harry or Lily.
Eventually, he managed to fall asleep, and when he woke up, the first thing he did was send an owl to Lily, because that would be quicker, easier (especially considering she had said she would lock him out of their suite), and hopefully less damaging to their relationship. The owl bore the following note:
----
Lily,
Are you all right? Harry and I are fine. We are both still in Slythendor. No sign of Voldemort.
Are we still
Please let me know that you're okay. I love you.
-Sirius
----
Unfortunately, the owl returned, bearing his note. Which was not a good sign. Now feeling quite frantic, Sirius made sure Harry would stick around Slythendor for a while (an idea that was not so thrilling to Harry, but that he acquiesced to, simply because he felt bad for Sirius after the mess of the night before, and anyway he didn't have a whole lot to do), and then he left Slytherin and went up the stairs and around the corner to the suite he shared (and hopefully still did share) with Lily to see if she was there.
His initial discovery sent flashes of red-hot panic across his flesh.
She hadn't locked him out as promised. Instead, the entire place was open; only the normal wards were up. He easily let himself in, only to find the place empty. Which, when put together, meant that she had never gone back to lock him out in the first place.
And Sirius bet he knew where she had gone. Because she had never really promised not to go looking for Voldemort. His fear turned ice cold and he began running through the corridors.
After he had searched out the entirety of two floors, he finally found her. She was sitting on the floor just across from the Popcorn Room, knees brought up to her chest and chin resting on them, and on her face a very strange, almost frightening sort of determined stare.
And there was a large piece of parchment in front of her. A piece of parchment he recognised very well, because he had made it years ago. It was the Marauder's Map, and the last person who had had it, as far as he knew, was James.
The other James.
Which meant that, unless he was missing something, she had gone up to Gryffindor to fetch it from him. Sirius didn't know whether that James was even around any more - he hadn't seen him for months, although he hadn't gone looking for him, either - but it didn't matter. The fact that she had gone up there and put herself in that sort of position, had taken that sort of risk, ignited Sirius's temper.
His initial flood of relief at seeing her alive evaporated within a second or two, and he asked sharply, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Oh, and beware teh emoness. It burns!))
The only reason Sirius had slept well was his good friend Firewhisky. Lily had apparently lost her mind, and the upshot was that he was now kicked out of their suite and possibly broken up with. More importantly, it scared the hell out of him that Lily was out and about the castle by herself, being angry and rash and probably not particularly careful even though Voldemort could be anywhere. It was exactly the reason she had wanted to confine Harry to Slythendor, and yet she couldn't take the same advice for herself. And there was nothing he could do about it, because everything he had tried had only made things worse.
But the Firewhisky had been able to go only so far. Not wanting to drink in front of Harry, Sirius had started in on a bottle after the both of them had finally gone to bed, and even then, there was only so much he had allowed himself to drink, because he needed to be alert in case something happened to Harry or Lily.
Eventually, he managed to fall asleep, and when he woke up, the first thing he did was send an owl to Lily, because that would be quicker, easier (especially considering she had said she would lock him out of their suite), and hopefully less damaging to their relationship. The owl bore the following note:
----
Lily,
Are you all right? Harry and I are fine. We are both still in Slythendor. No sign of Voldemort.
Please let me know that you're okay. I love you.
-Sirius
----
Unfortunately, the owl returned, bearing his note. Which was not a good sign. Now feeling quite frantic, Sirius made sure Harry would stick around Slythendor for a while (an idea that was not so thrilling to Harry, but that he acquiesced to, simply because he felt bad for Sirius after the mess of the night before, and anyway he didn't have a whole lot to do), and then he left Slytherin and went up the stairs and around the corner to the suite he shared (and hopefully still did share) with Lily to see if she was there.
His initial discovery sent flashes of red-hot panic across his flesh.
She hadn't locked him out as promised. Instead, the entire place was open; only the normal wards were up. He easily let himself in, only to find the place empty. Which, when put together, meant that she had never gone back to lock him out in the first place.
And Sirius bet he knew where she had gone. Because she had never really promised not to go looking for Voldemort. His fear turned ice cold and he began running through the corridors.
After he had searched out the entirety of two floors, he finally found her. She was sitting on the floor just across from the Popcorn Room, knees brought up to her chest and chin resting on them, and on her face a very strange, almost frightening sort of determined stare.
And there was a large piece of parchment in front of her. A piece of parchment he recognised very well, because he had made it years ago. It was the Marauder's Map, and the last person who had had it, as far as he knew, was James.
The other James.
Which meant that, unless he was missing something, she had gone up to Gryffindor to fetch it from him. Sirius didn't know whether that James was even around any more - he hadn't seen him for months, although he hadn't gone looking for him, either - but it didn't matter. The fact that she had gone up there and put herself in that sort of position, had taken that sort of risk, ignited Sirius's temper.
His initial flood of relief at seeing her alive evaporated within a second or two, and he asked sharply, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
no subject
It's too late.
Well, maybe it was. She'd missed her chance to be his Mum, perhaps. But this she could do. She could teach him what she knew, what had kept her alive. What he needed to know to defeat Voldemort for the last time.
"Believing in them is what gives them their power," she shrugged. "It's like any other bit of magic. If you don't believe it will work, all the wand waving and incantations in the world won't help. It's a force of will. Divination is rubbish because it teaches that something outside of yourself can give power to it. That's simply not how magic works. The words have power, yes, but it's the Wizard that gives them form."
She hesitated, then. There was something else to the phrophecy that Lily didn't know if Harry was aware of. But he deserved to know, if Dumbledore hadn't already told him, and so Lily sighed softly and said, "There was another couple in the order. Alice and Frank Longbottom. They got pregnant at the same time James and I did." A brief flicker of a smile crossed her face. "We were so excited. Even with the sodding prophecy. And we... It's horrible and wrong, but..." How to say it so her son wouldn't think less of her? "I would sit across from her at Order meetings and pray that her child was the one in the prophecy."
She looked sad and guilty, but that was the truth of it. "But Voldemort, for whatever reason, chose you. And that choosing, that belief, not the prophecy, is why you have that," she nodded towards his scar. "And why you're now apparently in some sodding battle to the death."
Shrugging, Lily smiled bitterly. "But he's in over his head on this." There was an absolute confidence in her voice, as if Lily didn't have a single doubt that Harry would be the one to prevail. It hid well the cold, helpless terror that had settled somewhere in the pit of her stomach and which Lily knew would not be relieved until Voldemort was defeated once and for all.
Then, nodding her head towards the corridor, she said, "Come on, then. Let's get something to eat. I bet I can bully the house-elves into making us a pizza."
no subject
His mind refused to leave what Lily had said about the prophecy and the Longbottoms, and so as they walked down the corridor, he said, "I know their son. Mr and Mrs Longbottom, I mean. Their son, Neville - he's in my class." Or he was. Harry didn't know where Neville was right now. Probably researching herbs of the coastal plains of Zimbabwe. (This thought showed how poor wizarding education was when it came to geography: Zimbabwe is a landlocked country with plateaus, not plains.)
"We - we're friends, actually." Harry hesitated slightly in saying that, simply because it had taken him a few years to realise it. But it was true. Neville was good hearted and loyal, and he had supported Harry during some of the times he had needed it the most. "And sometimes I wish Voldemort had chosen him, too."
Then he shrugged. "But it's too late. And I'm going to do what I have to do."
no subject
But what Harry said pulled her from her thoughts and she studied her son carefully. "Alice and Frank are good people. I'm sure they raised a fine son. Neville's lucky to have you as a friend." What was unspoken was the fervent wish that she, too, had that Voldemort might have chosen another child. There was nothing more to say about that. Harry knew and she knew and voicing the desire wouldn't make it true.
Ah. Those words again. Something of that frozen impassivity bled back into Lily's face. "It's too late for a lot of things, isn't it?" The words were spoken quietly, almost to herself, with no accusation or bitterness. Just the quiet kind of sadness that comes from realizing the hopelessness of a situation. No reason to rail against it. It was what it was. And there was nothing Lily could do to change it.
no subject
Then there was silence. Awkward silence. For a while, Harry simply didn't know what to say. It was too late for her to treat him like a child - or to be able to order him around at all and to think she had any right disciplining him. But that didn't mean he thought it was too late for her to be his mother. He wanted her to be his mother. He didn't exactly know what that would entail either, because he was too old and she was too young. But that didn't change the fact that he really wanted it.
Finally, still looking at the floor, he spoke, his voice low, but clear. "Not all things."
no subject
His words startled her slightly, though she didn't respond outwardly. "Yeah." That was all she could say at that moment. But as another few minutes of silence slipped by, she sighed.
"My...my learning curve on this..." she sounded so hesitant, not at all sure, which was completely unlike Lily. She was always sure. And if she wasn't, she spent hours studying and practicing until she was. Uncertainty was unfamiliar to her. "I don't know what I'm doing." Gaze sliding to him, she gave Harry a half-apologetic smile. "I was supposed to have time to figure it out. But I didn't. I am going to make mistakes. I am going to say things wrong. But Harry, I... Just because I mess things up doesn't change the fact that I love you. You...you know that, right?"
Lily studied his face, so like James', and then shrugged. "I... I need time to process things. I tend to just...attack, and that's... I'm stubborn." A rueful grin flickered across her face. "And I don't always listen when I should. And I..." Oh, Merlin. Something caught in her throat and she looked away. "I miss your father," she admitted in a tiny whisper, almost as if she was ashamed. "He was so much better at this kind of thing. More steady. I just...react. And it's usually wrong, and then I get mad and I shout and..." Laughing a little - because the alternative was to cry - she lifted one shoulder in another shrug and let her eyes go back to Harry. "Give me time." It was almost a plea, for him to not give up on her. "I'll learn."
no subject
He finally looked up when she said she loved him, meeting her eyes for a brief second before nodding and looking back down again, just because Harry wasn't really used to this sort of open, emotional talk, and he, too, was learning how to react. He knew that she loved him, and he was glad for it.
When she mentioned James, his eyes abruptly snapped back up to her. He had accepted that he probably would never get to meet his father, and that all he had were other people's memories to fill the holes in his heart that James's death had left. But that didn't make him any less hungry for anything more he could hear about James, anything anyone had to say about him.
He was glad to hear that Lily missed James, but his heart also ached for her - and for himself and for Sirius, because all of them felt the loss of James so acutely. But it was worst for Lily and Sirius, because they had known him. They had something real, something tangible, to miss. Harry only had pictures and a memory of a memory and the concept of a father. And all of them had been hurt by the other James, by the false hope that death wasn't final for him, that they had a second chance.
But it was really was nice to know that she still missed James. He had been so hurt when she and the other James had 'broken up', and since then she had dated other people. He was sure that she didn't see Sirius as a replacement for James, and he knew Sirius wouldn't want to be that, but it was a comforting thought that she still thought about James, that she saw herself and James and Harry as a family even though James was no longer alive.
He watched her as she continued to speak, and when she was done, a much shorter moment passed before he replied.
"We've got time."
He almost left it at that. He, too, was learning what to give and what to take. But he also didn't want to disappoint Lily. He wanted her to know that he did want her around. He did want to know her as a mother, and not just as some girl who was related to him, even if they were now nearly the same age.
And so, although it was really difficult to do so, he added, "I'm sorry what I said last night hurt you. I don't want you to treat me like a child, but I do want you to be my mum."
no subject
Lily ached to talk about James. To be able to openly miss him. But she had locked it all away so tightly that, at this point, it was doubtful she even knew how to let it out again. So she simply grieved in silence, rarely letting on how much she missed him. It was better that way, she'd convinced herself. It was better for everyone if she simply did her best to let him go.
But she still missed him. Every day, she missed him.
Blinking, she looked over at Harry. And slowly, she smiled. She looked so young when she smiled like that - soft and warm and wondering - and so much of the worry and the guilt and the stress she carried around with her faded slightly. "Yeah," Lily said, voice rough with emotions she couldn't even begin to name. "Yeah, I suppose we do."
As he went on, though, she grimaced and looked down at the floor. "Don't apologize, Harry. There's nothing to be sorry for. It's true. What you said... It's true. It is too late." Forcing her eyes back up, but still unable to meet his, she shrugged, trying to look off-handed about the whole thing. "It is what it is, Harry. It's fine."
They were approaching the Great Hall and Lily glanced around, spotting some seats removed from the people around them. "Come on. I could eat a sodding hippogriff."
no subject
But he wasn't sure what to say to fix this. He followed her over to the seats she had pointed out and sat down. For a bit, there was just silence, and then he thought of a way he might be able to tell Lily just how much he really did want her to be his mother.
"Before you came back here," he said as he tried to flatten his hair down once again, "I saw you and Dad three times, not counting the pictures Hagrid gave me. The third time was in the memory I showed you (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1231090.html?thread=62792434#t62792434), the one where Dad and Sirius had that fight with Snape. The second was when you and Dad came out of the connection between my wand and Voldemort's. And the first was in my first year at Hogwarts. It was on Christmas. Professor Dumbledore had given me Dad's Invisibility Cloak earlier that day, and I was wandering the corridors when I went into this room and found a mirror. It was a really big mirror, one that shows your whole body when you stand in front of it. But when I looked in the mirror, I didn't see myself. Instead, I saw you and Dad and all these other people - maybe ten or fifteen of them. Some of them looked like you, and some of them looked like Dad."
His eyes were now on Lily's face, looking at those eyes he had seen reflected back at himself in the mirror, multiple pairs of green eyes, just like his. Before he had looked into that mirror, he had never seen anyone just like him. It had made his heart ache with a strange, but strong, combination of joy and pain.
"People kept telling me I had your eyes, but that was the first time I saw it. And they said I looked like Dad, and when I looked in the mirror, I saw they were right." The memory of seeing James right in front of himself, smiling and happy and looking at Harry like he was the most important person in the world, caused an unexpected and unpleasant lump to grow in Harry's throat, and he paused for a moment to swallow it down.
When everything was back under control, he continued, "I came back to the mirror a lot during the Christmas holidays so I could look at you and Dad and everyone else in the family. But then one day Professor Dumbledore saw me, and he told me what the mirror was. It's called the Mirror of Erised, and it showed the one thing we want most in the world."
He stopped there, feeling as though he should say something else, but not knowing just what that something was. But his eyes remained on Lily, on that face he had seen all those years ago in the mirror. Except now it was in front of him, real and alive, and he wanted Lily to know that this was what he wanted most in the world.
no subject
But then, as he spoke, she felt some portion of that wall she had shoved all the maternal feelings about Harry behind begin to break down. He had said it was too late and, in her hurt and anger and confusion, Lily had taken that at face value. She had tried to forget that, some days, her arms literally ached to hold him. That there was a strange tightness in her throat as she thought about the fact she'd missed his first step, that she didn't know what his first word was, that she hadn't been there when he was sick or had a fridge covered in his drawings.
From the moment she'd learned she was pregnant, all Lily had wanted was to be his mum. When he'd stood there and told her that she was too late, that nothing she said mattered, anymore, it was like that part of her had died all over again. Lily felt cold; all she could do was rage against the man who had taken those years from her. And then she'd discovered that she couldn't even do that.
But then Harry was saying... Well, that he wanted her to be there. That he'd thought about her. That he'd missed her. And that part of her thawed a little.
Swallowing hard, she dropped her eyes to the table for a second before raising them back up, their green depths made brighter by a sheen of unshed tears. "You're one good kid, Harry James Potter. I hope you know that."
What more could she say? There was a lump pressing in her throat, cutting off any more words. So she simply rose and walked around the table, sitting next to him and pulling Harry into a tight embrace. "I love you," she whispered fiercely. "I always loved you. And we do have time. We'll figure it out."