Of Haunted Libraries and Fairy Tales, for Katie

[irishphoenix711]

Title Of Haunted Libraries and Fairy Tales
Written for: Katie/Starmaiden
Word Count: 4544
Rating: 1st-2nd Years
A/N: I saw “Starmaiden” and thought “Remus/Tonks!” and was 500 words into a Remus/Tonks haunted library story when “students” sank in. I couldn’t quite bear to get rid of the Remus in a haunted library, so Remus stayed, and the library stayed, but somehow it became Lily/James, and I hope you don’t mind Marauders Era, because I never thought it was what I was going to end up writing until I was too far gone to turn back.



Of Haunted Libraries and Fairy Tales

“I think,” said Lily, “that the library is haunted.” She slammed her stack of books onto the table with uncharacteristic force, as if to illustrate her point.

She was speaking to her friend, a brown-haired Ravenclaw, but it was James who answered from the table next to her. “Haunted? Really? Why, I think I saw a ghost myself the other day; haunting the Herbology section, he was. Shocking, the things that happen at Hogwarts, isn’t it?”

Lily’s withering glare appeared on cue, and Remus settled down in his chair to enjoy the show.

“I am being followed,” said Lily, the position of her eyebrows indicating that she was fully aware of the ludocrisity of the situation and that she would allow no nonsense nevertheless. “I am being followed - by a book!”

“A book?” James let out a snort of laughter. He had never been very quick to pick up the serious ramifications of eyebrow positions, Remus reflected.

“Yes. A book. I was doing some extra reading for Potions, and it was right there in the Potions section, next to Heliotrope and Valerian; A Study of Sopophorous Potions and their Components. That was two days ago. Yesterday, it was next to both The Wizard in Spite of Himself and An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Magic. And today, it was next to every single one of these books. Every section I went into!” She thumped her tall stack of books emphatically.

“You’re sure it’s the same book?” James asked, his eyebrows speaking volumes. Untangling himself from his chair, he crossed over to Lily’s table to inspect her pile.

“No, no, not at all. Because every proper school library needs at least twenty-seven copies of a brown, leather book with a small rip at the bottom and an embossed title in Ancient Runic.”

“Ancient Runic?”

“Ancient Runic.”

A sharp jab to the ribcage startled Remus from his observation, and he turned to see Sirius and Peter standing behind him.

“Have we missed much?” Sirius whispered.

“Just the beginning. Lily’s being followed by a book.”

“Oh, good.” Peter took the chair next to Remus, while Sirius settled himself in the seat James had vacated. “Wait…a book?”

“Quiet. I’m listening,” hissed Sirius.

“So what’s got you all upset, then?” James was asking. “You love books. You practically live in the library. Isn’t it your dream come true, a book that’ll follow you around everywhere you go? You don’t even have to carry it! It’s your very own personal companion, one certified leather-bound volume, to be present at all times by the side of Miss Lily Evans. Available whenever you need to look something up, pass a spare three hours in the contemplation of long words and obscure ideas, or merely appear to look busy to ward off the conversation of one James Potter. I’m surprised you’re not staring at it right now.”

“I can’t,” said Lily, looking miffed.

“What? You’re passing up the opportunity? I can sit down next to you and you’re not going to whip it out and tell me you’re busy?”

“I can’t. It won’t let me open it.”

“So we come to the heart of the matter!” exclaimed James triumphantly. “You’re not upset because a book is following you around; you’re upset because said book won’t let you read it.”

“It won’t come out of the bookshelf. I can’t even touch it.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“I said, show me. Bet you a knut I can get it out.”

“A knut? High stakes indeed.”

James sheepishly stuck his hand in his pocket. “It’s all I have. Or a stick of Drooble’s, if you’d prefer? Bit squashed, though.”

“You’re not going to be able to get it out,” said Lily.

“Want to bet?”

“I don’t even like gum.”

“Come on, show me. Maybe the book is just waiting for the proper touch.”

“If yours is the proper touch, I’ll…eat your gum.”

“You’re on,” grinned James. “Show me this haunted book, fair lady, and I’ll rescue you from your persecution.”

“Here’s where she whacks him,” said Sirius gleefully, and grinned as Lily’s hand smacked into James’ shoulder before they disappeared behind a shelf.

Remus shook his head gravely. “They’re getting predictable in their old age. We’ll have to encourage them to work on some new repertoire.”

“I like it when they’re predictable,” Sirius answered. “Makes it more fun watching James be stupid when you know he’s going to get smacked for it.”

“Or hexed. Sometimes she hexes him,” interjected Peter.

“That’s fun too,” Sirius agreed.

“Well, the haunted library’s a new one,” said Remus. “Lily being haunted by a book? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Dangerous things, books,” remarked Sirius. “I’ve been warning you for years, but have you ever listened?”

Remus fumbled for a retort, but was interrupted by a triumphant crow. “I told you,” said James, as he emerged from the book stacks. “My touch is magic! And your gum is licorice flavored.”

Lily emerged a moment later, looking murderous. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it! Believe it!” He tossed the small book onto the table, looking smug.

“It doesn’t make sense.” Lily sat down and began inspecting the cover.

“What can I say? The book likes me; it’s obviously smarter than you.” Grinning, he sat down next to her. “So, what’s so special about this mysterious book?”

“It won’t open.”

“Let me try,” James said, reaching.

“Leave it alone!”

“Magic hands, remember?”

Reluctantly Lily passed the book over. James grabbed it confidently, but grimaced after a moment.

“It won’t open.”

“As I said.”

James gave the book an affronted look, then smacked it sharply onto the table. Lily snatched it back, vindicated. “I told you. The library is haunted.”

“Not the library. The book. You’re being haunted by a book, Lily.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Don’t look so crabby; I can’t think of anything better to be haunted by. You could have Peeves, pulling carpets out from under your feet and raining miscellaneous objects down on your head. Or Moaning Myrtle, wailing in your ear all night. Or the Bloody Baron, following you around looking bloody. You could have a book that snapped at your fingers, or thumped you on the head! Considering the possibilities, I don’t think a silent book that follows you around and won’t open is bad at all.”

Lily sighed. “I agree on all counts. Except it’s a book, and it won’t open. And why is it following me, but it only let you pick it up?”

“It started to follow you but realized you were a hopeless case and converted?” suggested James.

Ignoring him, Lily pulled out a piece of parchment and began writing.

“What are you doing?” James asked, craning his neck to see. “Is it fun? Can I help? Are you doing the ignore-him-until-he-leaves thing?”

“Here’s where she smacks him,” whispered Sirius.

“I’m making a list,” answered Lily, gesturing towards her stack of books. “I want to see if there’s a pattern in what books it chose to appear next to.”

James hovered next to her, smiling foolishly down at her list. “Don’t forget Sorcery Through Seven Centuries,” he added after a moment.

“Thanks,” said Lily, scribbling it down.

James flashed a surprised look at his friends, and grinned at Lily. “Do you see a pattern?” he asked.

Lily bit her lip. “Working on it.”

Ten minutes later they were still working on it, heads bent close together by the parchment. Peter had turned to his Potions notes, and Remus was punctuating his own reading with only an occasional glance up. Only Sirius continued to sit at attention, feet propped up and eyes fixed on the pair at the next table.

“This,” he muttered, “is not a typical interaction.”

“Weren’t we complaining about their predictability earlier?” asked Peter, looking up from his Potions.

“That was Remus. Not me. I like it when they’re predictable. She should have smacked him by now. Look at them. They’re talking.”

“Rational human beings do talk on occasion, Sirius,” remarked Remus.

“Did you just call James a rational human being?”

“Good point. Well, even sometimes-rational beings talk; James can occasionally be a semi-rational being.”

“Not when he’s around Lily, he can’t.”

“Good point. I concur - the situation is exceedingly odd.”

“We should do something. Return to normalcy.”

“We are not setting fire to their table. Or hexing them. Or- Sirius, put down your wand!”

“I just want to-”

“No.”

“Don’t bother,” said Peter. “They’ll take care of it themselves.” As he spoke, Lily gave James the long awaited smack on the shoulder, grabbed her books and left. James returned to their table, visibly drooping.

“We were doing so well,” he moaned.

“What happened?” Sirius asked with a smirk.

“I offered her gum,” said James, dropping into a chair and pillowing his face in his arms.

“It’s not normal,” said Sirius, several days later. “In fact, it’s highly abnormal. We should do something. Now. Before anything else happens.”

“What could happen?” asked Peter.

“They are flirting,” growled Sirius. “Flirting! Lily and James!”

“And? Sirius, James has been waiting for this moment for years! I will not allow you to do anything to them, so put your wand away now.”

“Remus, come on! Just look at them - it’s disgusting. And they’ve been like this for days!”

Three pairs of eyes turned to the two figures at the nearby table, where James was raptly watching Lily’s emphatic gestures.

“All the books mention the use of sacrifice in early rituals,” Lily said. “If you look at chapter three of Mayhap and Certainty, it says-”

“Ritual sacrifice?” James interrupted skeptically. “Lily, where does Schautzer mention ritual sacrifice?”

“Definitely flirting,” said Peter.

“It’s in the footnotes, I’m sure I read it.”

“He’s writing about the misuse of absinthe; why on earth would he mention-”

“You can’t have been paying attention at all; he has an entire chapter devoted to the historical use of potions, and-”

“Not paying attention? Because I don’t remember a footnote from a book we read fifth year?”

“Well, it was an important-” began Lily, but James ignored her.

“I was very studious in fifth year,” he said. “I read Schautzer, and I watched you read Schautzer. I was probably watching you when you read that very footnote. You ate a Bertie Botts bean after every chapter, I remember. And after chapter seven you got licorice, and you ate three of Rachel Winter’s chocolate frogs to make up for it.”

“Is that supposed to be romantic?” Lily asked skeptically. “Because I find it rather disturbing that you remember that, especially since you don’t even remember the footnote where Schautzer clearly indicates-”

“Fine, show me,” said James, and allowed Lily to lead him back into the bookcases. Sirius removed his feet from the table, looking relieved, and pushed back his chair. He was halfway towards the shelves when Remus stopped him.

“We’re not going to spy on them,” said Remus firmly. “Look, they left the book behind.” More in an effort to distract Sirius than because of any curiosity on his own part, he idly picked up the book. To his surprise, it opened easily in his hands.

Sirius was at his side in an instant. “You opened it!” he exclaimed. “Now we can figure out what it’s doing! Won’t James and Lily be mad, if we figure it out before they do? We can annoy James for months! And if we figure it out, maybe they’ll start acting normally again.”

“By normal you mean fighting?” asked Peter.

“Fighting, sparring, equitably bickering - I most certainly do,” grinned Sirius.

“Quiet a moment, will you?” demanded Remus, who was staring at the faded script of the book. “Being a Recorde of Magicks Moste Potente; Wherein many things of the vertue and power of naturall magicke which have long lien hidden are deciphered ,” he read, and flipped the page. “Wherin the Spirit of a Man may be intrapped within an Obiecte.” He tossed the book onto the table as if it had burned him.

It was Sirius who finally broke the silence. “This is more than a book following Lily around,” he said. “This is Dark Magic. Really Dark Magic. They don’t even have this kind of thing in the restricted section.”

“Why was it following Lily around?” asked Peter. “D’you…do you think it’s dangerous?”

“Of course it’s dangerous,” snapped Sirius. “Did you hear that? Entrapping a spirit within an object? That’s just about as bad as magic gets.”

“I mean the book,” said Peter. “Of course the spells are dangerous, but is the book? Can it hurt anyone by itself?”

“It’s just a book,” said Sirius impatiently. “It can’t do anything.”

“It can move around by itself,” pointed out Peter. “It can decide who gets to take it out and who gets to open it. It’s not just a book.”

“I think,” said Remus, “that we should go to Dumbledore.”

“Dumbledore?” scoffed Sirius. “Oh, hello, Professor,” he mimicked. “We found this book in the library, and we think it might be magic. Why no, it hasn’t done anything except follow Lily around, but we’re afraid it might kill us all in our sleep, so will you please save us from the haunted book?”

Remus frowned. “You said yourself that it’s obviously Dark Arts; it shouldn’t be in the library in the first place. We can turn it in, and mention that it was following Lily around. Unless you have a better proposition? Such as abandoning it in the library for some first year to find? Or leaving it for Lily and James and letting it perform some curse on them? ”

“Fine, fine,” muttered Sirius. “We’ll take it to Dumbledore.” With a deftness born of long practice he slipped the book under his robes, and the trio made their way out of the library.

The moment they were out from under the watchful eye of the librarian, the book made a swift reappearance. Sirius warily turned it over in his hands, looking balefully at the brown leather cover. “So much trouble for such a small book,” he muttered as he turned round a corner.

“Where are you going?” asked Peter, staring at him. “Dumbledore’s office is the other way.”

“Sirius, we already argued about this. We’re going to Dumbledore,” said Remus in annoyance, starting after his friend in order to head him off.

“It’s pulling me!” exclaimed Sirius, his voice full of surprise. “The book is pulling me.”

Remus ran forward to catch up, and saw Sirius’ fingers clenched around the leather binding in an attempt to hold on. Even as he watched, the book pulled itself from Sirius’ grasp and shot down the hallway.

“Accio book!” shouted Peter from behind them, but the book was already disappearing round the corner, Sirius sprinting after it.

“This is not what was supposed to happen,” Remus groaned, before joining the pursuit.

Six corridors and three flights of stairs later the boys stood, gasping slightly, in a small, circular room in the dungeons. On the floor, in the exact center of a queerly designed mosaic of stones, lay the book, looking for all the world like an ordinary volume straight from the library. Sirius gave it a tentative poke with his foot, and it flopped over, perfectly normally.

“Well, that was exciting,” said Sirius with a grin. “We should chase haunted books more often.”

“Maybe we should go get Dumbledore,” said Peter. “We have no idea what it’s going to do next.”

“Oh, hello, Professor, we’re having this problem with a haunted book, and it flew away from us,” began Sirius, before cutting off abruptly.

“What’s wrong?” Remus began to ask, and then felt it himself, like a cold touch feathering its way up his arm. He jerked back and leapt for the door, even as it swung closed with a bang and an audible click of the lock.

“Brilliant idea,” Sirius growled. “Let’s go to Dumbledore, and incidentally release the book from the library. Set it loose to wreak havoc on the school - and on us! It didn’t do anything like this when it was following Evans around.”

“Right, because I knew this was going to happen,” retorted Remus sharply.

“Are you two going to stand there and argue, or do you want to pay some attention to this book?” demanded Peter, staring at the book, which was ruffling its pages suspiciously.

“Right, the book,” said Sirius, turning his gaze towards the haunted volume. “Just wait till we tell James about all the trouble his bloody book got us into. That’ll teach him to flirt with Evans.”

Remus gave a half-hearted laugh, but the creeping touch was back, like icy fingers on his arms and face. Leaping backwards he tried to shake it off, but it was as if something was gripping him, squeezing tighter and tighter.

With a choking noise, Peter staggered backwards towards the wall, fingers scrabbling wildly at his neck. Sirius dashed forward, wand pointed at the book. “Incendio!” he shouted, and then he was thrown back, hitting the stone wall with an audible thunk.

The torches on the wall flickered and smoked.

Looking around wildly for something to fight, all Remus could see was smoke and his two friends, Peter still struggling against some invisible force and Sirius lying still (too still) on the cold stone floor. Then, the instant after he had registered the absence of anything, there was something. Standing in the centre of the room, almost indistinguishable from the smoke, was a figure.

It held out its hands, and the only sounds in the room were Peter’s gasps as the invisible fingers released his throat. For a moment everything was still, and then it moved forward.

It was like a ghost and yet it was not a ghost, nor was it a living being. She stood, cloaked in smoke, tall and pale and frozen and terribly, terribly not alive. Then she spoke, and her voice was clear and lifeless, a sound of the living ripped from the mouth of something not alive.

“Fire?” she asked, and Remus resisted the urge to cover his ears, to protect himself from the impact of her voice. “Fire, to destroy an estranged spirit? My dear boy.” Crossing the room - the smoke obscured her, and Remus could not tell if she walked or floated - she knelt by Sirius’ still form and held out her hand. He jerked, his body lashing as if against invisible restraints, and then opened his eyes.

Choking, he recoiled from her outstretched hand, and the spirit smiled. “I am not going to hurt you,” she said, and crossed the room to where Peter stood, shaking.

“Peter,” she said. “Stone. But you are not stone, are you? You are afraid, flowing backwards, molten rock - dangerous, though no one can see it.

“And you,” she said, turning to Remus, her not-voice dangerous and low. “You are a wolf. We are much the same, you and I.”

“What are you?” Remus asked.

“I was a girl, once.” She sounded as if she were singing. “Everil, I was called, and I was the daughter of a king until my brothers flew away as swans. I swallowed my voice and I wove nettles into cloth, and I became a queen. After that I was Sigil, and I slept for a hundred years surrounded by stone and dreams, until a child woke me with a kiss. Thordis I have been, and Astrid, and Mab, and all these women I will be again.” Leaning forward she touched his forehead with her lips, and Remus was frozen, unable to breath.

When she stepped back time started again, and somewhere in the distance he heard someone shouting in Sirius’ voice. “What are you doing? Get away from him!”

All he could see was the spirit’s face, and she smiled as she spoke. “I am taking my lives back.”

“Get away from him,” came Sirius’ voice again, and suddenly Sirius was at his side, bloody but remarkably alive beside to the frozen lady. “If you mean you’re going to perform some ritual and steal his life, you can’t. I won’t let you.”

The spirit was laughing again. “I don’t need his life,” she said. “He is not the one I want. But when I take what I want, I think you will find that you can do nothing to stop me.”

She stepped back and Remus felt the life rushing back into him. He staggered with the force of it, and felt his friends - Peter on one side, Sirius on the other - steadying him.

The spirit took no notice of them, circling round the forgotten book on the floor. As they watched, a wavering image appeared in the center of the room, unrecognizable at first but slowly taking shape. Remus heard Sirius hiss beside him as the image of a couple appeared, a tall, red-headed girl embracing a bespectacled boy.

“Her life,” said the spirit. “I choose her, and I will be Lily as I once was Everil and Astrid.”

“And James?” asked Sirius, his voice cracking.

“The boy? In my story he needs no name; it is enough that he is there.” She completed another circle around the book, and the image strengthened further; Remus could almost make out the words on Lily’s lips as she laid her head on James’ shoulder.

The spirit was speaking in Latin now, the strange words rolling off her tongue. They were trapped against the wall, unable to move; Remus found himself struggling futilely, though he did not know what he would do if he were to break loose.

“Sum Everil, sum Sigil, sum Iolanthe,” cried the spirit in her terrible voice. Next to him, Peter followed her progression hopelessly, while Sirius threw himself against their invisible bonds. “Sum Melenth, sum Ran, sum Hesper.”

There had to be something they could do, something other than watch this spirit steal away two lives. He looked at Peter’s white face, and Sirius’ wet with blood and tears (Sirius who never cried), and the apparition of James, blissful in his oblivion and his knowledge that Lily was at last leaning on his shoulder.

“Sum Astrid,” sang the spirit, and, “You’re not,” cried Remus.

Incredibly, the spirit stopped her chanting and looked at him.

“You’re not any of them,” said Remus, more quietly now. “Not Everil, or Sigil, or Astrid. I know what you are.”

“What am I?” asked the spirit, and her voice was like ice in his veins.

“You’re a spirit, trapped inside of a book. Someone took your body and trapped your spirit, and now you’ll do the same, steal someone else’s body, only you tell stories to make it sound like it comes out right.”

“I was sixteen,” said the spirit. “I was sixteen when my mother took my body for her own. My mother, do you hear? She cut out my spirit and stole my body and married my lover. I’ve been trapped in this book long enough. I never had a chance for what she has now; I never had a chance to kiss a man. I never had a chance to live - why should she?” In its wildness, her voice sounded almost real.

“You’ll do the same thing to her that her mother did to you?” challenged Remus.

“Yes,” said the spirit. “I’ll do anything to get my life back. Anything.”

“You can’t get your life back,” answered Remus, feeling an indescribable pity for the spirit before him. “Taking Lily’s life won’t be the same. It won’t be yours. James is not the lover you lost.”

“He would be a lover,” said the spirit. “If I can’t have my life back, I’ll take hers.” Remus opened his mouth, but she continued to speak. “Don’t say I can’t, because I can. I’ve been waiting for this opportunity longer than you’ve been alive, and there is nothing you can do to stop me from taking it. You’ve given me what I needed; you took me down here, and set me free. I will not kill you unless you make me; I only take what lives I need.”

“How merciful of you,” said Sirius scornfully. “We’re not going to stand here and watch our friends die.”

“You don’t have any other choices,” said the spirit. “You might say that we are the same in that respect.”

“We all have choices,” said Sirius, and transformed.

Even as a dog, he had no power over the noncorporeal; his leap carried him right through her. Landing, he staggered but continued on, running towards the smoky apparition of Lily and James that hovered over the worn leather book. He hit the book at full speed, and it went flying out of the mosaic pattern, landing against the wall with a dull thud.

The apparition disappeared, and the pale spirit herself grew paler. She threw out her arm and Sirius was flung back, but by then Peter was in rat form, pushing the book towards the door. The invisible hold on Remus lessened, and he yanked himself free and headed towards the door. “Alohamora,” he cried, “alohamora,” and to his surprise the door opened. Peter pushed the book through, and Remus whirled around to help Sirius. Even as he turned, the smoke seemed to lighten. Sirius picked himself up from the floor and shook, droplets of blood spattering the walls. There was no sign of the spirit.

With two little pops, both Sirius and Peter transformed back. Peter hovered over the book, while Sirius crouched warily within the room.

“Where did she go?” asked Sirius, after a moment.

“I think she needed the book to be in the room,” Remus answered. “Preferably in the center of the room.”

“She could move the book before,” noted Peter, holding it tightly as if it might break from his grasp at any moment. “Why doesn’t she move it back?”

“Don’t know, but I vote we get it out of here as soon as possible,” said Remus.

“Dumbledore, then?” asked Sirius.

“Dumbledore it is.”

“No one,” said Peter, as they proceeded quickly up the winding stairs, “is ever allowed to tell me again that books aren’t dangerous.”

It was nearly three hours later when James came bounding into the dormitory to find the three boys sprawled on their beds.

“Where’ve you been?” he demanded excitedly. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You will not believe what just happened to me.”

“Try us,” said Peter.

“You saw me and Lily talking?”

“Yes.”

“And then she wanted to show me something?”

“Yes.”

“And then we went into the back of the library?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what do you think happened then?”

“I couldn’t possibly guess.”

“She kissed me.” James was practically bursting with excitement. “Lily kissed me. Lily Evans. Kissed me. In the middle of the library. The Potions section, to be exact.”

“Fancy that,” said Sirius. “No accounting for taste.”

James flopped backwards onto his own bed, grinning. “Lily Evans kissed me,” he said. “Say, where were you?”

“We took your book to Dumbledore,” said Remus.

“What book?”

“The book that was following Lily around. You know, the haunted one.”

“Oh, that one. Thanks.”

“Any time, James.”