Limerence | A James & Lily Story

Inevitable

    I watch. I watch as Lily takes my hand in hers. I watch as Marlene edges herself ever closer to the five of us. I watch as my father shakes his head at my mother when she starts to make her way towards me. I watch as Remus takes a fistful of Sirius' and Peter's robes in each of his hands as if he wants to throw them behind himself. I watch as Voldemort surveys the room with a sick sneer occupying his lips. I watch because it is all I can do.

     Lily takes deep breaths beside me; she takes in the air as if the oxygen supply will suddenly bottom out. I trace circles over the back of her hand with my thumb, but in her crazed state, I don't think she even feels them. 

     I clench my toes in my shoes, rooting myself to the spot. Every cell in my body aches to protect the girl gripping my hand. Not that Lily Evans needs anyone to protect her; she is perfectly capable of hexing anyone so far into oblivion they'll forget what year it is. But, here and now, with Voldemort strutting around the room with his hate for muggleborns, a fear I have never known before has settled in my bones.

     "Why the long faces?" asks Voldemort in a mocking voice. His voice shocks the staggering silence. "This is a party, correct?" The death eaters cackle amongst themselves; it sends chills down my spine.

     Nobody in the crowd makes a sound; nobody dares to move a muscle. "Now," Voldemort continues with a now serious tone. "This is very simple. All of you know who I am. I am here for recruitment. I-"

     "No one here will join you!" A man from the crowd shouts. I quickly identify the short man as Mr. Wattlesbrook. I swallow hard knowing he just made a mistake. Why the hell would he shout like that?

      Voldemort looks at him with malice all the while keeping a bored regard. Lily cringes against my side. "Avada Kedavra!" There's a flash of green, and his body crumbles. Mrs. Wattlesbrook lets out a scream as she falls to her knees next to her slain husband. There are many cries from the crowd, as everyone backs away.

     My bones become hollow, and my muscles tighten. The air leaves my lungs in rushing sensation making it all too difficult to breathe. Mr. Wattlesbrook taught me piano when I was younger. I hated that blasted instrument, and in turn, I hated my lessons with that man. But now, staring at his lifeless body, I can't help but think of all of those memories in fondness. 

     Not wanting any emotions to portray on my face, I allow every muscle in my face to relax. Voldemort doesn't get to know he got to me. I have to be strong; I tighten my grip on Lily's hand, wanting nothing more than to run out the doors pulling her with me.

     "I do not like to be interrupted! I am here to recruit!" Voldemort's voice rings through the hall cold and commanding. "I don't need old ones. Ones so close to death." He says death as if it is the most despicable thing he can think of.

     He turns to face the six of us. The look in his red eyes sends a chill down my spine. "I want the young ones," he smiles a wicked smile.

      All hell breaks loose. I drop Lily's hand, as the death eaters turn and charge towards us wands raised. There's curses being cast by both sides; flashes of light flood throughout the room, reflecting off the ice crystals. 

     I raise my own wand and point at the man charging towards me. "Stupefy!" He flies backwards, a stunned look on his face.

     Flashes of red and green fill my vision. Everyone is shouting, and it all becomes a roar in my ears. I aim another spell at a death eater and watch as her head hits the marble floor with a satisfying crack. I turn in the chaos searching for my friends. 

     Peter lies unconscious on the floor, blood dripping from his lips. I go still, studying his form, not allowing myself to believe that he may actually be dead. My blood runs cold, and I am unable to make my feet move towards him.