Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

20 October, 1977 - Maybe

The return to Hogwarts was a mixed blessing to Lavinia. She was more than slightly excited to be back in the castle, for various reasons, almost all of which she felt guilty for. But the start of her seventh year seemed to her to be the beginning of the end. She had one more year and every day was tick off the calendar, one step closer to the future she'd always known she'd have. But now, facing it head on, it felt more real than ever, and she couldn't help but wonder what life would be like post Hogwarts.

She'd have a full year with her family - doing what, she didn't know, but a full year, with no escape and no one to run to if things got bad. More than once, she tried to console herself with the reminder that at least she couldn't be punished for bad grades anymore, but it was a mixed blessing, for she knew her NEWT scores were bound to disappoint her mother. She would try, of course, as she always did. But eight NEWT exams was near impossible, she was certain. Within a few weeks of the beginning of term, that much became sharply clear to her.

She resumed her habit of staying in the library until it closed, trying to force herself to focus through a mind-numbing exhaustion that seemed to bear down on her like a physical weight. Her progress was slower than she would have liked, but it was progress nonetheless. And it gave her excuses to stay up late and skip meals, both things she seemed to be doing frequently.

Most of the time, she simply wasn't hungry or else stress and thoughts of her mother's disappointment chased her appetite away. Other times she simply convinced herself that she would deal with it later and couldn't be bothered to get up from whatever she happened to be doing at the time. Some days, movement simply required more energy than she had. She knew it was a bad habit to be eating so little, knew she needed to stop, but it was oh so hard to get herself to care. Especially since bad habits seemed to be most of her daily routine.

As for staying up late, it seemed to be her sole joy, if she could even call it that. Though she still bantered with her friends when she saw them, it felt forced. She hid behind a girl she wasn't sure existed anymore, playing at sarcasm and wit even when her heart just wasn't in it. Even when she often felt detached, like she might just break off and drift away and leave this shell behind to laugh coldly at whatever latest mistake some poor Gryffindor had made.

She still wandered the corridors though and it was perhaps the time when she felt most herself. She was almost always joined by a Marauder and their unspoken agreement to simply distract her frequently resulted in her more genuine smiles. She was careful still, never to say anything of import. And though she was more relaxed with them than her friends, not having to stress about anything she said getting back to her mother, she was still off. She knew she was hiding, knew she was acting almost all day every day, but she didn't care. She couldn't be herself, not with her mother's threat hanging over her head. No one could know just how bad things were inside her head. So she hid it behind smiles that more often than not she didn't feel, no matter what time of day it was.

Still, even with her constant facade, it was undeniably nice to have people who knew something was wrong, even if they had no idea what it was or just how far it went, and didn't much care. They just... let her be whoever she wanted, without strings attached or expectations of what she was and how she was supposed to act.

Even James Potter. The first time he was the one to encounter her in the halls, Lavinia had almost laughed at seeing him approaching her, hands in his pockets, looking haughty and annoyed as ever. It was lucky, perhaps, that he caught her on a night when she wasn't in the worst mood. There had been no letter from home, no blood and even a several hour stretch when she had laughed with her friends and meant it. When they had seemed to be there for her, joking about her mother's tyranny and planning for a future that had seemed, in that moment, more than bearable. Indeed, she was wandering less because she was desperate and more out of habit, still searching for whatever hidden thing in the halls might fill the void in her chest that was a constant companion even on the best of days.