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Watch Us Rise

CHAPTER FOUR

After a bit of a wait here is chapter four! There’s a bit more plot, a bit more marauders, a bit more jily and a bit more Snape. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it. Let me know what you think!

As always thanks to the amazing @htcake for betaing and making this bearable<3

canon: sixth year | word count: 4.4k | ao3: read here

Hogwarts, September 1976

The fight is all anyone talks about for the next few days, but as in most semi-contained social eco systems it only takes another, just as dramatic event to catch everyone’s attention. This time it’s a third year accidentally accioing a girl’s robes. Lily is there when the accio event happens and it really is an accident, and far less dramatic then the fight, but she doesn’t mind that people have something new to talk about. She knows Remus has never liked this level of attention, even if Peter takes some enjoyment in stopping Madame Pomfrey from healing him and showing off his bruises much longer than he needs to. Plus, if people are talking about the fight, they’re also talking about the Slytherin boys and she’s definitely had enough of hearing about them. It’s bad enough being in Potions with three of them.

Especially when, in the last week of September, Sev and her are the first ones to arrive at the deserted dungeons. Maya is finishing the essay due in and Mary had forgotten her books and told Lily to go on while she sprinted back to the dorm.

She almost scarpers when she comes down the stairs and spots him there, alone, flicking through the textbook. From the steps she can see all his scribbling on the pages, his handwriting almost as familiar as her own. He looks up before she can hide and there’s a short second where his face lights up and Lily thinks he’s going to smile. He doesn’t.

Lily hoists her bag higher on her shoulder, resolutely deciding that she’s not going to give him the power to stop her from doing everything normally. She can stand behind him, waiting for everyone else. It doesn’t need to be a big deal. So she ignores the pain in her ribs, her heart, and simply joins him by the door, eyes fastened on the steps, hoping Mary hurries the fuck up.

“How- how- what do you think of Slughorn this year?” Sev says a few moments later, and Lily jerks her head around to look at him, almost in disbelief. He’s not looking at her. His eyes are firmly on the steps too and a distant part of her mind wonders what’s holding Avery and Rosier up.

“I think he’s being more dramatic.” She answers flatly, wishing she was able to ignore him just like she’d planned to do when she’d thought about this situation happening. If she was Marlene, or Maya, she could turn a cold shoulder or tell him to sod off.

Mudblood mudblood mudblood, in her head the scene replays, and she can see them all standing in a circle of other students, hatred and anger and confusion pushing them towards each other and tearing them away at the same time. But she can also see him lying on her bedroom floor, staring pensively up at her ceiling, asking how long it took her to cut out all the stars that are stuck up there. You can see the stars in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, you know. The real ones. He’d given her so much. Tried to take it all away too.

"I didn’t realise he could be more dramatic,” he laughs, cuts it off quickly. “At least he’s only given us one essay.”

“Yeah,” she pauses and mudblood deafens her. “Sev… We’re not-“

“I know.” He says it softly, still not looking at her, and she’s not sure what hurts more. Mudblood. I know.

There’s a sudden clatter of footsteps and Mary and Maya appear, followed closely by the rest of the class. At the same time Lily sees Avery and Rosier amongst the herd, Sev steps away from her, almost instinctively, and that hurts more than anything he could have said.

Don’t you dare cry over him, Evans. She bites back foolish tears as Maya and Mary join her at her side, shooting quizzical looks but knowing better than to say anything, partly in case they are overheard and partly because she’ll tell them when she’s ready. The Slytherins, led by Avery, leer at the Marauders, apparently hoping to goad them into a pre-class scuffle. In a surprising show of restraint though, Potter’s only response is to loudly ask Black what he’d thought of the article in the Prophet that morning about the Slytherins who slipped down the ladder of success.

Just as Black is telling Potter that he’d thought it rather insightful, Slughorn appears and ushers them in, tutting at the boys and jokingly asking them if they’re going to behave in his lesson.

Afterwards, Mary asks what Sev said to her but Lily brushes the question off and, thankfully, they don’t push it.

“I miss summer,” Maya moans, flinching at the cold as she presses her hand to the dorm window. Where she’s touched it, there’s a handprint in the frost and through the panes they can see snow on the tops of the distant mountains.

“It’s only been gone a week,” Lily says. October had arrived sharply, booting out the sun and heat very matter-of-factly and making up for how lazy summer had been in leaving. It hasn’t been sunny for quite some days, to the point that the Hufflepuffs had had to call off a training session on Tuesday because of the unforgiving wind.

“Still, I miss it.” Maya says and pulls her hijab closer round her neck. Their dorm is warm, even cosy, and it’s absolute shit that they can’t say the same for the rest of the castle. They’ve just got back from the library and walking through the halls had felt more like diving into the lake.

There’s a small tapping noise and Lily looks up from deciding which jumper is thickest and towards the window. Maya gets there first and lets the owl in. It hoots a thank you and flies over to settle on the headboard of Lily’s four poster, looking a little bit worse for wear.

“It’s Acklebey,” Maya can recognise the Hogwarts owl Lily uses to write to her parents and by now all of the girls have become familiar enough with each other’s mailing habits, so there’s no need to explain her excited grin as she hurries to untie the letter. The owl flies off as soon as she’s unattached the envelope, probably desperate to get to the shelter of the owlery. “You go down to dinner, I’ll catch you up.” She tells Maya, no longer hungry but desperate to read her mother’s words. Maya double checks that she’s sure, tugs on a jumper and then closes the door behind her.

Lily settles onto her bed and tears open the envelope, recognising her mum’s handwriting immediately.

Lily,

It was so good to get your last letter. I’m glad you’re writing so much. Your dad and I miss you lots n your letters make our week! Tuney is all moved out now and we’ve only chatted on the telephone a few times, but I think she’ll visit at Christmas.

About your letter: it’s good you’re enjoying the year so much. God knows your dad and I never liked school as much as you. Can you explain what human transfiguration involves… it sounds a bit too dangerous for younguns to be trying. Good that Potions is going well like usual, that teacher of yours definitely sounds like he knows what he’s doing.

Hopefully you’ll keep up with all your work, but it does sound like you’re getting a lot. Makes me tired just reading the number of feet.

Here everything is normal. Colder now September is over but your dad has more shifts down the mine and his cough seems to be getting better. He can’t finish the crossword without you and misses you a lot. I think I already said that.

Val popped in yesterday to say hi and asked how you were getting on. Everyone wants to know how you are! She brought over some apple pie but it’s too sweet for me. Maybe I’ll ask her to bake one I can send to you. Would you like that?

I’m sorry this letter’s so short, I’ve got about two loads of washing on and I promised I’d do the cake for Sunday’s service so I’m very busy. Say hello to all your friends.

Lots of love, your mum and dad x

She doesn’t realise she’s crying until a teardrop hits the paper, lined and clearly ripped out of a notebook, and she wipes them away quickly because there’s no need to cry. She just misses them. A lot.

Lily reads the letter a few more times, then grabs some parchment and writes an immediate reply. She explains the theory behind human transfiguration and tells her mum not to worry, there’s only a small chance she’ll get an extra leg. Then she asks about her dad’s cough, because she didn’t even know her dad had a cough to begin with. He’d had a ‘tickle in his throat’ over summer, but that had been there for years and no one ever paid much attention to it. Then she just writes and, by the time the girls come back from dinner, carrying a few new potatoes and sausages in a napkin for her, she’s got five sides of parchment finished.

“Do you want to write my letters home for me?” Marlene asks, taking a bite from one of the sausages before she hands her the food. “My mum would kill to get that many pages.”

“And mine,” Tegan says. Lily laughs and carefully folds the parchment up and tucks the pages into one of the muggle envelopes she keeps in her bedside table.

“Bad daughters,” Mary says with a shake of her head. “It’s not that hard.”

“You haven’t got Potter’s training schedule to contend with,” Marlene says, looking sick at the mere thought of it.

Lily licks the envelope and then asks, “What’s he got you doing now?”

“Four training sessions, two fitness ones and a strategy meeting every Wednesday lunch.” Tegan tells them with a dead expression behind her eyes and Maya, Mary and Lily all pull faces. Lily loves Quidditch but she’s glad she doesn’t have to play, especially with Potter as her captain too; for someone who prides himself on his casual façade, Lily’s heard enough stories, and seen enough, to know how much of a dictator he can be when Quidditch is involved.

“If he mentions the trophy one more time, I’m going to steal it and bludgeon him to death with it,” Marlene groans from where she’s sprawled face-down on Lily’s bed.

“I’ll help.” Tegan picks her beater’s bat up from where it’s propped upright at the end of the bed and pretends Mary’s old, stuffed bunny is Potter’s face. Mary rescues her bunny with a squeak of outrage, and they all squeeze onto Lily’s bed and listen to Marlene coming up with different ways to remove Potter’s legs from the rest of him.

“Oh, by the way, first Hogsmeade trip next weekend!” Mary says excitedly, once talk about murdering Potter has died down and they’re just ribbing Marlene for flirting with the new fifth year chaser. “It went up on the board over dinner.”

“Three Broomsticks?” Suggests Tegan.

“No I was thinking we could try out the Hog’s Head,” Marlene says sarcastically. They go to the Three Broomsticks every trip, it’s routine by now.

Tegan throws her a derisive glance from where she’s sat. “Whatever. Maybe you’ll be going to Puddifoot’s anyway, since you’re basically married,” Tegan jibes and, with a growl, Marlene dives at her. They fall off the bed and Maya, Mary and Lily lean over the side to watch them scuffle on the floor.

“Do you think this is because Marlene has about a hundred brothers?” Maya asks, sounding genuinely curious, as a snarling Marlene straddles Tegan and tries to get her in a headlock.

“Nah, it’s just because she’s feral,” Mary says and nods her head when Maya looks at her questioningly.

Lily pretends to think about the question, “Maybe it’s because Tegan doesn’t have any brothers. All the testosterone from the quidditch team is rubbing off on her because she’s not used to it.”

Maya and Mary stretch out an understanding “ah” and Tegan manages to give them the middle finger before overpowering Marlene and bending her arm behind her back. Mary throws a pillow into the mix and before anyone can blink, an arm extends from the tangle and she gets dragged into the fray too. Lily laughs but it’s quickly and efficiently cut off by Mary grabbing her wrist and yanking her off the bed, using her as a human shield whilst Tegan pummels them with the pillow.

The Hogsmeade weekend comes quickly and Lily and the girls race down the stairs, feeling a bit seasick by the time they reach the Entrance Hall. On trip days the stairs tend to get a lot more excited, as if they know how much everyone wants to get out of the castle and are trying to stop them.

With his usual litany of muttered complaints, Filch herds them into the line already stretching back from the doors, and demands to see their permission slips. He spends about five minutes inspecting each of them, and almost refuses to believe that Mary’s is real. It takes some time to persuade him, but then they’re out of the doors and huddling together as they follow the stream of students.

“I hate Scotland.” Tegan’s voice is muffled behind her scarf as they fight their way against the wind. “You never get shit like this in the valleys.” There’s no point replying because the wind would just snatch away any conversation, so they stay silent until they reach the Three Broomsticks and can recover from the biting gusts.

Maya points out the Marauders sat at one of the tables near the back, already surrounded by bags from Zonkos and she, Mary and Tegan go to join them whilst Lily and Marlene queue at the bar.

“You meeting your brothers?” Asks Lily while they wait to be served.

“Can you believe them? They said it was ‘too embarrassing’ to go for lunch with me,” Marlene says, drawing quote marks in the air. “All three of them. Bunch of traitors.”

Lily shakes her head in support, “Wankers, all of them.”

“Even Arnie and he’s only eleven. He doesn’t even know what embarrassment is.”

“What can I get you ladies?” Madame Rosmerta interrupts their conversation and they order four hot chocolates and a butterbeer.

“How is he getting on?” Lily asks once their drinks are being made.

Marlene shrugs, “Okay, I think. He’s got friends but I think he’s struggling with all the new magic. He never expected there to be so much theory.”

Lily thinks about how much theory they have in sixth year and laughs, “You gonna warn him?”

“I would if we had had lunch today,” Marlene says jutting her chin out. Lily grins and then accepts the tray from Madame Rosmerta, levitating it over to the table because she doesn’t want to risk dropping it. Tegan picks it up out the air and sets it down on the table, handing the drinks out.

“Butterbeer? In the morning,” Remus says, feigning outrage.

“Fuck off Lupin,” Marlene says and flicks some of the froth into his face.

“What’s that?” Asks Lily, leaning across the table to see what Potter and Black are reading. It’s a small pamphlet with a sketch of Hogwarts on the front.

“’A hit by hex commentary of the confrontation that has the whole castle talking’,” says Potter, pitching his voice to a tone that reminds Lily of him in first year.

"By Gilderoy Lockhart,” adds Black.

Lily frowns, “The Ravenclaw boy who tried to kick Peeves out the castle last year?”

“Hogwart’s very own Narcissus,” Remus confirms.

“What’s he saying?” Tegan asks, cradling her chin in her hand to listen.

Black clears his throat and then begins reading, “’If you weren’t lucky enough to witness the fight that everyone’s been talking about then, fear not, because our Editor-in-Chief, the one and only Gilderoy Lockhart was there and has all the action for you, straight from the side lines.’”

“Editor-in-Chief?” Marlene snatches the pamphlet from Black’s hand and looks at the back where there’s a list of contributors. “’Editor-in-Chief, Gilderoy Lockhart. Editor, Gilderoy Lockhart. Researcher, Gilderoy Lockhart. Manufacturing, Gilderoy Lockhart. Publisher, Lockhart Incorporated…’ Is this even allowed?”

“He was handing them out in the Entrance Hall until Filch confiscated them off him,” Peter shrugs, “so probably not.”

“Filch will confiscate anything though. Remember when he tried to take those dungbombs off us in third year?” Pouts Black, snatching the pamphlet back and tossing it onto the table. On the other side a sketch of Lockhart himself grins toothily up at them all, hair waving slightly.

“I wonder why he’d do a thing like that,” Maya says and rolls her eyes. Black pointedly refuses to acknowledge her comment.

“Apparently he’s petitioning Dumbledore to start an official Hogwarts newspaper.” Remus, wanting to get back on the subject, says and flips the pamphlet over to point at the title. Lily reads it upside down. If The Walls Could Talk.

“Sounds more like a gossip rag if you ask me,” Tegan says, although she does look interested. Students at Hogwarts are bred to be interested in everyone’s business and the idea of it being delivered routinely in a neat little phamplet isn’t too shabby.

“Funny you should say that…” Peter points to the contents, squashed below the sketch of the castle. He reads it out, “Page 1, Current Affairs; page 2, Affairs.”

"Very tasteful,” Lily says with a snort that almost sprays her friends with hot chocolate.

“Which does your fight fall under?” Asks Mary innocently.

“Ha,” Potter smirks, “both.” He stretches his arms into the air and then clasps his hands behind his head, knocking Black’s shoulder in the process.

“Arrogance isn’t a virtue you know,” Maya tuts.

“Let him have it, it’s his only personality trait,” Marlene says dryly. This gets a laugh out of everyone but Potter just frowns, looking genuinely upset. Although Lily can’t be sure, because she hasn’t got all of his facial expressions catalogued. That would mean she’d spent a long time looking at him, and that definitely is not the case.

They all leave just as it starts snowing, the hot chocolate in her stomach not hot enough to keep Lily warm for longer than a second. She shivers as the snow finds its way to every bit of her exposed skin and wishes she had a time-turner so she could dress more warmly this morning.

“No scarf?” Potter asks, letting the other three boys pull ahead with a more relaxed strut.

Lily looks up at him, ignoring Marlene’s eyebrows behind him. “At the bottom of my trunk. I thought the summer might hold out a little longer.”

“This is Scotland,” he smiles and then unwinds his scarf from his neck before holding it out to her. She waves it away, words stuck in her throat, so he just wraps it around her neck, warm fingers brushing her skin once, twice. “I’m built to handle the cold.”

“With all your layers of fat?” Finally she finds her voice, and manages to raise an eyebrow too. Cool, cool.

“Exactly Evans,” Potter grins and takes a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets, “exactly.”

“Thanks,” she says, before he turns away.

“What are friends for,” he winks and then turns, almost slipping on the wet ground but catching himself just in time. He jogs to catch up with the boys and Lily imagines the blush on his face.

“Nice scarf,” Maya says, slinging her arm over Lily’s shoulder at the same time Mary does. Lily blushes and ducks her head down, burying her chin into the scarf and pretending not to hear her friends.

October drags, sticking its heels in and refusing to leave. The snow doesn’t settle, just leaves the grounds soggy and the castle cold. Professors take the opportunity to give the sixth years even more work and Lily finds herself in the library every spare moment, trying to finish essays before she is handed the next one.

Distractions worm their way in though, and she finds herself playing Exploding Snap with the Marauders or walking down to the pitch to watch the Gryffindor’s practice or flicking through to the back of Witch Weekly. One day she even finds herself reading through all of Lockhart’s If The Walls Could Talk, which Filch had officially classed as contraband two weeks ago. A perk of being a prefect though is that she still gets access to all the contraband she confiscates, so she hides herself behind a pile of books on conjuring spells and flicks through the copies.

Rumour has it that Lucinda Talkalot is only second rate on the pitch, but first rate in bed… What a lot of people don’t know is that the Lockhart family actually founded… To take a sneak peek inside the library’s Restricted... This week in the Hufflepuff’s surprisingly rowdy… her eyes wander over the pages, taking in the Affairs section but skipping over the Current Affairs, which always seem to relate back to Lockhart or his family’s achievements.

She pretends she’s reading all of them just for something to do. But she also pushes all the other copies to the side when she finds the one she wants.

… straight from the side lines. It all began with a single, off-hand comment from Slytherin Quidditch team member Evan Rosier. “How did your summer go?” He asked the handsome member of the Marauders, Sirius Black. This was apparently a touchy subject for Mr Black, who didn’t answer Rosier’s question but instead hexed him. James Potter, Marauder and man who got rejected by Lily Evans… Lily stops reading and takes a steadying breath. …was not happy about this and soon it was an all-out brawl. The Marauders can certainly handle themselves in a fight, but so can Slytherins and it’s hard to say who would have won if Professor McGonagall, hard line teacher and animagus, hadn’t intervened.

“Not the best writer, is he?” Potter announces himself, appearing suddenly over her stack of books and making her jump. Lily slams the pamphlet down and pushes the pile away, although it’s too late to pretend she hadn’t been reading it. Potter winks as if he’s just discovered some big secret and is promising not to share it. “Don’t worry, we all have guilty pleasures.”

“It’s not… I was just…” Lily pulls her wand from her bun and arranges her hair to calm herself down. “I thought I’d see what all the fuss was about.”

Potter grins and asks, “Which one were you perusing… ah,” he snatches up the one she’d dropped like it’d burnt her. “Thought this was old news by now?”

“Took it off a Slytherin beater this morning. They’re still not over it,” she says, happy to have some sort of defence.

“No,” he drops down into the other chair, “they don’t seem to have the ability to get over things. Terrible at obstacle courses, I heard.” Potter smiles at his own terrible joke, half hiding it behind the pamphlet. Lily struggles not to smile back. “Hey,” he looks up, “I tell you who else hasn’t gotten over this. Pa- Black. He won’t stop quoting it to us. ‘The handsome member of the Marauders’ has really gone to his head. I don’t suppose you could do a mate a favour and –“

“Confiscate his copy?” Interrupts Lily.

“He’s got eight copies, Evans, eight! I don’t know where he’s getting them from. Every time I throw one away, another is on my pillow when I get back.” He shakes his head and tilts the chair back, looking quite put out by the whole thing, “Disgusting.”

“I did always think it was Remus who was the handsome one,” Lily says, looking at him out of the corner of her eye whilst she pretends to flick through the other pamphlets.

“Each to their own, I’ve always rather fancied Pete myself.”

“Potter?” She looks at him suddenly, the thought burning in her head since she read the story.

He looks at her. His smile hesitates, as if he knows what’s coming. “Evans?”

“Is his summer a touchy subject?”

Potter tilts the chair back further. Runs a hand through his hair. Considers her. Runs a hand through his hair again. Then he says, “I don’t know if I’m the one you should be asking.”

This is a fair answer. This is also a true answer, but Lily knows Black would sooner give Lockhart an exclusive on his summer than answer any questions she has about it. “But he’s okay? That’s what I meant.”

“He had a change of address,” Potter says, no longer looking at her and setting his chair back down. He hands her back the pamphlet and sounds eerily expressionless when he speaks again. “Good luck with all that reading.”

She doesn’t want him to leave on a sour note. Not that it’s sour. Just… stale. “Where are you going?” He swings around and shrugs, half smile, his half smile on his face.

“Got some planning to do. Can’t be known as the Marauder who got rejected by Lily Evans forever, can I? Need to make a name for myself.” His hazel eyes meet hers for a second, almost as if daring her to keep talking about the subject, but then -

“Shh!” Madam Pince appears, armed with her feather duster and a half manic look in her eyes.

“See you around, Evans,” Potter stage-whispers before saluting Pince. The librarian replies by chasing him with her duster. Lily watches him out the library and then drops her head onto the desk and groans to herself. You’re a knob.

A few seconds later, she’s jerking her head up again as a first year timidly approaches and shoves a familiar looking scroll onto the desk. Before Lily can ask anything or say thank you, the first year runs off and disappears amongst the shelves. She shakes her head and unfurls the scroll, happy to see that this year Slughorn has skipped the exploding confetti.

Dear Miss Evans,

It has been too long delayed but I would now like to cordially invite you to a meal to celebrate the start of the school year on 15th November. There will of course be excellent food and, as always, stimulating company. Do let me know if you’ll be in attendance, although I’m not sure what else you have to be doing!

Prof. H. Slughorn

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