FIC: Love In a Hopeless Place, R, (4/5)
Title: Love In a Hopeless Place 4/5
Rating: R
Warnings: Dark themes, some sexual references.
Summary: Having been hiding out in the middle of nowhere to escape Voldemort’s tyranny, Lily is captured by patrollers and subsequently offered as a prize to Voldemort’s followers. James claims her as his own, in the process altering the course of his life - and hers too.
Part One/ Two/ Three / Four / Five
Part Four
Later, Lily snuggled on the sofa with her new jumper and better haircut, and wondered if this is what she had in mind when she planned to wear James down, in hope that he’d let her go. She must not have thought it through properly, because she certainly didn’t expect to see his icy demeanour defrost and for her to see sides she didn’t think were there: the caring side, his surprising side and the side that hinted at a sense of humour.
It was her reactions to this new side of him that worried her. When he surprised her by cutting her hair for her, she’d been captivated by his gentleness and the deftness of his touch - and even attracted to him. This concerned her because even if he turned out to be this wonderful person really deep down, he was still a top man of Voldemort whose purpose was to hinder her kind.
Was Lily turning into one of those people who grew sympathetic (and eventually devoted) to their captors? Did these confused feelings of attraction stem from the fact that James was the only human she was interacting with? Lily wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she was slipping into dangerous waters and that she had to be careful that she didn’t drown.
+++
The days passed and Lily began to notice something change between her and James. Small talk existed when previously uncomfortable silence fell and they began to grow accustomed to each other. It wasn’t a friendship and neither would ever reveal too much of themselves for it to be one, but it was something.
As nice as their arrangement was, Lily was a long way off getting James to the point where he’d conceivably let her go and part of her worried she’d never get there.
Things, however, took an unexpected turn when Lily received a letter from James whilst he was away at work.
“Miss Evans,” the letter read. “The Dark Lord has requested an audience with his top aides and thus has asked for us all to convene for dinner, at my house. For your own safety, I ask that you stay in your room until I tell you that it’s safe to leave. I will try and ensure that he does not stay for long.”
Lily stared at the letter in shock. Voldemort was coming to James’ house? She knew she should have expected it sooner or later: the Dark Lord considered James a close associate and it was likely that he had visited James’ house many times. Still, the thought of being anywhere near that man again absolutely terrified her.
Potts came into the reception room, where Lily had been sitting.
“Master James asked me to give you this,” she said, holding out a silver, fluid-like material.
Lily took it. “What is it?” she inquired, not recognising what it was.
“It’s Master James’ Invisibility Cloak, Missus Evans.”
“An Invisibility Cloak?” Lily had heard such things existed, but she’d never seen one before. She held it out and examined it. “What do I need it for?”
Potts looked uncomfortable. “For tonight, Missus Evans. For added protection.”
“Oh.” The doubts Lily had that James was treating her in a way he shouldn’t be were now confirmed: if James was doing everything by the book, she wouldn’t have to hide from Voldemort. The question of why he was treating her differently lingered in her mind. Should she be worried? And if Voldemort were to discover Lily in the house, live and very well, what would he do to her - and to James?
Lily spent the rest of the afternoon fretting about the Dark Lord’s visit. When the evening approached, Lily retreated to her room and sat on her bed, the Invisibility Cloak wrapped around her like a blanket.
Before being captured, the last time she’d seen Voldemort was when he had killed Dumbledore. After that, he became the monster that Lily both feared and reviled. He was the reason her beloved Headmaster was dead. He was the reason the wizarding world had changed and people like her were no longer welcome in it. He was the reason her family and other loved ones were dead. He was the reason Lily’s life had been stolen from her. To her, Voldemort was monumentally evil, a man who had committed so many crimes that the idea of him dining in a house and eating dinner seemed incongruous and absurd. Although this wasn’t her house, she couldn’t help but feel invaded by his presence when previously she’d felt almost safe here.
Time passed and Lily thought she heard the sound of voices downstairs. She imagined James’ guests all congregating in the dining room and that they were all laughing and joking with each other, as though they hadn’t spend the day inflicting (be it in person or directing from afar) pain or death on those they felt deserved it.
Lily willed the time to pass and kept apprehensively looking at her door, afraid that Voldemort would come barging in at any moment for her. He didn’t, but the threat of him initiated a torrent of painful memories: him killing Dumbledore; her and Remus turning up at the safe house scared out of their minds; finding out that the Dark Lord had gained full power; hearing story after story of people dying; finding out that her parents and sister had been killed and being unable to come to terms with that; their safe house being discovered and McGonagall, their last pillar of strength, being taken; Lily and Remus being left to fend for themselves, living their lives in fear and uncertainty; being captured and having to face the monster of a man who had caused all of this.
Reliving these memories made her angry instead of scared and she didn’t feel like cowering in her room anymore. She felt the need to look upon him with her own eyes and to know what he wanted with James. Despite the danger and her better judgement, she found herself wrapping the Cloak entirely around her and quietly sneaking downstairs.
Voices emanated from the dining room and Lily approached the open door and hovered just outside it. From her position, she could see the table and its occupants. James was sitting in his usual seat, looking impassive. Next to him sat a chubby, nervous-looking man with watery eyes. He and James appeared to be the youngest at the table; the rest were all older, haughtier looking men. Voldemort sat at the head of the table and everyone looked at him as though he was saying the most important thing in the world.
Or at least, all of them but James were. James was looking at Voldemort and concentrating on what he was saying, but she could tell by the way that his jaw was clenched and his shoulders tensed that James couldn’t care less about what this man was saying, and Lily found that interesting: Voldemort had known James a lot longer than Lily and yet he was unable to read him at all.
“So Mr Potter,” Voldemort said, moving on to a different topic. “Is that Mudblood girl still around?” he asked with interest.
James quickly glanced at where Lily was standing and for a moment, Lily thought he could see her, before realising that was impossible.
James turned to Voldemort. “No,” he answered in a cool, indifferent voice. “I grew bored of her, so I killed her.”
Lily breathed in sharply at this outright lie, but Voldemort just smiled approvingly. “Good,” he said. “I hope you got enjoyment out of her.”
At his words, Lily felt rage bubbling up inside her. How dare he say such a thing, she thought.
James just nodded. “Of course, my lord.”
Voldemort surveyed the table. “As you may be wondering, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you all, which is why I have gathered you here today.”
Lily looked at James’ face, which gave away nothing.
“I have reason to believe that the Resistance is resurging,” the Dark Lord continued.
Lily’s breath hitched and her eyes widened. Her gaze was still focused on James and she noted that his expression didn’t change. Did he already know? She wondered.
And suddenly Lily’s heart started beating frantically and something began to dwell within her - and it felt an awfully lot like hope.
When Voldemort first gained power, she believed that the Resistance would be able to overthrow him soon after but they never did. Then when she and Remus were in the safe house, they clung to the hope that the Resistance were biding their time and the Dark Lord’s defeat would be soon. But time passed and nothing changed; McGonagall was captured and the last of the Aurors fighting him were killed. Prominent Resistance fighters also vanished, and those left either pledged their allegiance to Voldemort or went underground.
Lily and Remus had hoped to find the last, dwindling members of the Resistance whilst they were on the run but were unsuccessful, and Lily began to doubt that any still existed. It left them feeling truly alone in the world.
And now it was possible that the Resistance was reviving itself. It didn’t seem likely and Lily barely dared to hope. If it was true, then so many things could happen!
Voldemort’s men began to murmur their shock at his news.
“If this is true, then this is cause for concern and we must do everything in our power to stamp them out before they get the chance to flourish,” Voldemort went on.
Other people began to comment but Lily stepped away, still reeling from his revelation. She didn’t feel the need to linger anymore and listen to what this group had to say, so she retreated to James’ study, where she knew Voldemort was unlikely to visit and that she would be within reach of James, ready to interrogate him as soon as the others left.
The study was dark and small, comprising of a large desk and chair, a shelf of books, a cabinet and an armchair in the corner. It was the armchair Lily chose to settle in whilst she waited. As she did so, her mind remained focused on the Resistance. How long had they been back in action for? Had they always been in action but no one but themselves knew? What was their agenda? Did they have a leader? How much did they know? Did they know about Lily being captured? Did they care? Did they know about Remus? Would they know if he truly was dead?
Lily had so many questions and not enough answers, and she truly did not know how she felt about them if they were indeed back. On the one hand, she was ecstatic that there was still a chance to fight Voldemort; on the other hand, if the Resistance still existed and had done so all along, then she couldn’t help but feel abandoned by them.
Time seemed to drag as she waited for James and Lily found herself drifting off. The sound of voices in the hallway roused her and then she heard the distinct sound of people Apparating. Footsteps approached the study and Lily’s breath hitched; the door opened and James stepped through, looking tense and very much agitated.
He took one look at his armchair and let out an annoyed sigh. “I thought I asked you to stay in your room?”
“How did you know I was here?” she countered, removing the Cloak she had been wearing from her head.
He pointed at her socked feet, which, unlike the rest of her body, was on show. Had they been like that when she was standing outside the dining room? She was sure they had been concealed.
“Oh,” she said and reddened, embarrassed that she’d been that careless. She removed the Cloak completely and let it slide to the floor.
James walked over to the cabinet and opened it, revealing a small collection of alcohol. He pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky and poured a glass, then downed it in one.
“Bad day?” she asked meekly. James gave her a dark look which told her not to ask more, then walked over to his desk and leant against it, folding his arms in the process.
“Go on,” he said.
Lily looked at him in confusion. “Go on what?”
“Ask what it is you’ve been dying to ask.”
“Is it true?” she demanded almost immediately. “About the Resistance? That they’re back?”
He nodded grimly; Lily couldn’t hide her joy at the news, even though James so obviously felt the opposite.
“I suppose you’ve found yourself a cause now?”
“This is the best news I’ve heard in a long time,” she told him even though she probably shouldn’t be sharing this with him. “It means my people, all the people who oppose the Dark Lord, finally have a fighting chance against him.”
“And their plan would be to what? Defeat the Dark Lord and overthrow his followers... myself included?” He said this without a hint of self-pity and Lily’s eyes locked with his.
If the Resistance ever restored the country back to how it had been (or as close as it could) then eventually, they would seek to prosecute or even kill the likes of James. Essentially, James would lose everything and maybe Lily would finally gain something. Some would call that justice, but it seemed unfair to Lily. Although the two of them could never be friends given who they both were (he a top aide of Voldemort and she his Muggle-born captor), they had developed a bond of sorts. She never saw what he was like outside of this house (and what his reputation hinted at); she only saw the side that made sure she was fed, clothed and warm, that didn’t hurt her and hid her away from Voldemort. Lily certainly didn’t want him to be punished for that.
But she was getting ahead of herself, wasn’t she? She was assuming that the Resistance would win and that when they gained power, Lily would somehow be freed. Lily had held high hopes for the Resistance before and they had let her down. It could happen all over again.
“Yes, it would,” she replied honestly.
James said nothing for a while, but his fists were clenched and his breathing was deep.
“You think you’re the only victims from this war, don’t you?” he suddenly demanded. “You think that because you’re Muggle-born, we’ve taken everything from you and we’ve all lost nothing.”
She was surprised by his outburst but it also made her angry. “Haven’t you?” she countered, standing up. “Your lot took my family and you took my friends. You forced me out of my school and took away my right to magic. You took away my home and everything that ever mattered to me. Because of you, I have nothing!”
James looked furious. “Because of me? I’m responsible for all of that?”
“No!” she exclaimed. “But your people are!”
“My people? So we’re all the same? You’ll judge all of us by the actions of a few?”
She looked at him in disgust. “But you are that few! You’re one of the Dark Lord’s top men. Merlin knows the things you’ve committed!”
There was a pause and then, “Do you think I had a choice in determining my lifestyle?” he demanded.
Lily looked at him in bemusement. “How could you not?”
James gave a bitter laugh. “It’s all black and white for you, isn’t it? There’s no grey. How do you think I became the Dark Lord’s top man, Miss Evans? Do you think I followed him so devotedly that he made me that person? Do you think I willingly killed my way to the top? Do you think I got that position because I strongly believed in everything he did?”
Lily didn’t say anything because she had believed those things, the first two at least.
James drew closer so he was standing a foot in front of her.
“I never had a choice,” he said and his voice was so fierce in its conviction that Lily took a step back.
“You didn’t?” she whispered.
“Do you know what happened to me after the Dark Lord took power?”
She shook her head.
“He killed my parents.”
Lily gasped. She knew his parents were dead, but she never thought to think about how they died.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because they didn’t believe in what he did.”
Lily was confused. “They were in the Resistance?”
“No. This was in the aftermath when people weren’t confined to either the Resistance or the Dark Lord’s side. My parents both worked high up for the Ministry and the Dark Lord considered them valuable assets and asked them to join him. But my parents, who had always been liberal and open-minded, refused to join him. So he beckoned us all to the Ministry and then killed them in front of me.” James’ voice was full of such tumultuous emotion that she wondered if he had ever shared this story before.
Lily didn’t know what to say. “But you would have only been a boy,” she eventually said.
“It didn’t matter to him. He wanted to set an example and so he did. He showed me what happened to people who didn’t support him and do you know what he told me? He told me that if I didn’t follow him, I would end up the same way as my parents. Maybe if I had been older I would have been able to make a choice; maybe I would have even been strong enough to refuse him. But I was thirteen and I was scared and helpless. So I agreed to do what he told me to. I got sent back to Hogwarts, where we were taught to believe that Muggles were filth and wizards who supported them were just as worse. The Dark Lord took an interest in me because he saw some quality within me that made me useful, in his eyes. And he’d broken me down so much and taken everything from me that I didn’t resist when he plucked me out of everyone to work for him at the Ministry.” He looked at Lily. “So you see, you’re not the only one who has nothing.”
He went to sit in the armchair Lily had just vacated, and all she could do was stare at him in shock.
She had questions: how come he never tried to seek vengeance? How could he possibly work alongside the man who killed his parents? What did he really believe?
She stepped towards him, but he just looked up and gave her a wary glance.
“Don’t,” he said.
“Don’t what?”
“If you’re going to pity me, I don’t want it.”
“I-,” she began, before the denial died on her lips. His head was in his hands and he looked child-like and vulnerable. She’d wanted to go up to him and comfort him.
“Leave,” he instructed, in that commanding voice of his that she hadn’t heard since she first arrived here.
She looked at him, uncertain whether to do so. Talking about his parents had clearly been painful and though she wished the subject had never been brought up, she wished she could so something to help him. But she remembered that when she’d heard about Remus, she’d wanted to be left alone and James had granted her that. It was only fair she did the same for him.
+++
As she soaked in the bathtub and unwound, her thoughts kept drifting to James. Lily had always considered her life tough, the deaths of her family profoundly affecting her, though she was no different to many others. There was not one person she knew who hadn’t lost someone; even Remus did not know the fate of his parents. Despite this, she could not help but feel that out of everyone, what James went through was by the far the worst. He had seen his parents be murdered in front of him and was then forced to join that murderer and adopt his ideals. Most people would have been driven insane by that, but somehow James hadn’t. How had he coped?
She thought of his disposition and how she’d largely considered him a man of indifference. In the recent days, she’d seen signs that suggested otherwise, but James being with Voldemort seemed to bring that cold and impassive demeanour back in force. It was clear that he hid his emotions from the Dark Lord (and hid them well), but Lily wondered if there was more than that. Was it possible that James had been rendered so numb by what Voldemort had done to him that he ceased to feel anything at all? Was that even possible? Instead of permitting himself to feel grief, had he buried it deep within himself, along with any other emotion as his way of coping? Maybe this coping mechanism was why he was in this position: he had stopped caring about anything and did what needed to be done, dispassionately but effectively. Someone like Voldemort would thrive off that.
Lily returned to her room, uncertain what to do with herself. It was too early for bed, though she considered going to the library and finding a book, even though she wasn’t in the mood for reading. She paced around her room, but it was no use: she couldn’t stop thinking about James.
She knew that he didn’t want her pity, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. And she knew that he didn’t want company right now, least of all from her, but the idea of him sitting in his partially-lit study with only the memories of his parents to keep him company didn’t sit well with Lily, and she was on her way to see him before she knew it.
+++
He smelt her before he saw her, the scent of spiced pumpkin from the bubble bath she so favoured wafting to his nose. As his mind automatically associated the smell with her, his gaze shifted to the doorway where she stood uncertainly.
When she saw him looking at her, she began to make her way towards him.
Telling her about his parents had been hard and he didn’t know why he had done so in the first place, maybe because seeing her become animated about the Resistance and the hope they brought, reminded him that he didn’t have that hope. James hadn’t talked to anyone about his parents and never intended to, but Lily had a maddening quality about her that made him do things he didn’t want to. And she had been so certain in her convictions and ideals that the need to correct her had outweighed his desire to keep his biggest secret close to the heart.
Ever since that fateful day, James hadn’t truly shifted through his memories of his parents or even thought in depth about what happened to them. Circumstances had dictated that he kept memories of them hidden deep down in order to cope and he had done just that. But now everything had resurfaced, every memory recalled and details of that day played over and over again in his mind. And it made everything hurt.
He watched warily as Lily drew closer and closer to him, wondering if she knew what was going through his mind. But if she did, she would have stayed away.
“James?” she said, her voice tentative.
His eyebrows raised a fraction; it was the first time he had heard Lily say his name and she said it out of pity. His fingers dug into the armrests. Pity was the last thing he wanted.
He looked at her blankly, hoping she would leave. She didn’t.
She stepped closer and her legs were almost touching his knees.
“James,” she said again, the name sounding strange coming from her lips. But he liked it. “I am sorry about what happened to you,” she said, her voice awkward and hesitant. “And you probably didn’t want to talk about your parents - not to me, anyway. But I want you to know if there’s anything I can do for you, I will.”
She was babbling, he was sure of it and he was certain she didn’t know what she was going on about. There was nothing she could do for him - his parents had been murdered a long time ago.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s been a day or a year or even a decade,” she told him. “It still hurts like hell.” And James wondered if the girl was reading his mind now.
He studied her intently, his eyes roaming her body. She was dressed in her nightclothes, presumably ready for bed, and her recently dried hair was in a state of disarray. She shouldn’t have looked attractive, but she did: her shorter hairstyle framed her face perfectly, enhancing her fine facial features and making her green eyes seem brighter. She wasn’t as skinny as she had been upon her arrival; her figure was fuller and inviting. Voldemort was lying when he said Lily was pretty; the girl was, in actual fact, beautiful.
James captured one of her wrists with his hand and tugged her towards him. She did so obligingly. He parted his legs and she stood between his knees. Lily’s eyes had grown large and she was very still; if she was frightened of his motives, she did her best not to show it.
He had never felt the need to assault girls and act on carnal needs like Voldemort expected. Despite what James had been exposed to, he did still hold some vestiges of honour. But with his mind and heart awash with grief, pain and anger, it was hard to remember these as he looked at Lily. He spent his most of his life feeling numb and senseless; now, he just wanted to feel.
James undid the sash of her dressing gown and threw it to the floor, revealing her long, white, sleeveless nightdress, the sight of which he drank in. He placed his hands on her waist, his right hand lazily tracing patterns above her hip. Lily let out quiet gasps at the sensation and he kept his eyes glued on her face. She was tense under his hands, but she still didn’t show fear. Her eyes were locked on his without a trace of resignation or submission; she just looked at him expectantly.
This girl was different to anyone he knew, with her spirit, her strength and her humanity. He couldn’t make sense of her at all.
“Who do you belong to?” he asked out loud and wondered if it was that boy she had been so desperate to save. Perhaps it was Voldemort and maybe it was even himself.
“No one,” she whispered. “I belong to no one and no one belongs to me.”
His nostrils flared and he shifted his legs away from her. He pulled her towards him again and she ended up in his lap. Her hands instinctively grasped his shoulders and she stared into his eyes, unable to keep the surprise out of them.
He brought his hand to her face, ran his hand through her hair, then across her cheek and down her neck. She closed her eyes at the touch. When his hand came to her chin, she opened her eyes and looked at him. For a moment they just stared at each other and then swiftly, he brought her lips down to his and captured them in a kiss.
Lily tasted of sweetness and hope, though at first she didn’t kiss him back, she just sat immobile. Then suddenly her lips moved against his; his heart beat frantically and life poured through his veins. She threaded her fingers through his hair and his went down to roam her waist, her hips and her back - his fingers so firm against her skin that he was sure there would be marks.
He channelled his tempestuous emotions into this kiss, uncertain whether he was trying to lose himself in it - or find himself again.
Something at the back of his mind urged him to stop; a few moments more and he would be unable to. But he wanted to carry on. He wanted this.
She broke away for air and just like that, the spell was broken. James suddenly realised what he was doing, and with horror, realised quite how close he’d been to losing control and passing the point of no return. Hurriedly, he lifted her off of him and stood up, placing her to the ground.
Lily looked at him, her face awash with shock. Her cheeks were flushed and her now-red lips parted. James’ hands were still on her lips and hers had moved down to his arms. For a while, the two of them just stared at each other, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
I shouldn’t have done that, he thought.
“I’m sorry,” he said automatically, his voice coming out hoarse.
Lily nodded, looking unsure of herself. “I have to go,” she said frantically.
“No. Wait-,” he began, but she was rushing out of the room before he knew it, her dressing gown still on the floor.
He let out a curse and closed his eyes, sinking back into his armchair. James always prided himself on self-control and because of the haze brought on by grief and pain, he’d lost control of himself. He used Lily to make himself feel better; he kissed her without permission and marked her skin with his fingers, even though he had told her he’d never hurt her and had vowed not to take advantage of her.
+++
Her lips were sore from his kiss and she could still taste him in her mouth: he tasted of whisky and despair, and something else.
She was sat on her bed with her knees drawn up and head against them, still in shock, unable to believe he had kissed her. Lily knew he hadn’t been in his right mind that evening and that perhaps the whisky had addled his brain (even though she’d only seen him have a glass), and when he’d taken her by the wrist and pulled her towards him, she had guessed his motives. She always feared he would cash in on her vow to him and thus didn’t resist when he did so. She thought she would be scared, but she hadn’t been; somehow, she trusted he wouldn’t hurt her - and he hadn’t. His kiss had been fierce and passionate, as though he was channelling all that suppressed sorrow and anger he was feeling into it.
Lily wasn’t supposed to have reacted to the kiss, but she had. She had found it searing and electrifying. The sensations: his lips crashing against hers, his hands on her body, hers threading through his hair and her body pressed close to his, with her legs wrapped around him, had been exhilarating and she so easily could have got carried away. That James had only kissed her to make himself feel better made her feel used, lost and very much confused.
+++
When Lily went down for breakfast the next day, she was disappointed when Potts informed her that James had already left, though she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. An explanation? An apology?
She spent her morning wandering around the garden in the chilly December air, before heading back indoors. She scoured the week’s collection of newspapers to find any clue that the Resistance might be back, and, spotting nothing, headed up to the library. Not in the mood for heavy reading, she found an old children’s book about a young wizard who grew wings, and spent her afternoon reading that.
Lily was so absorbed in her book that she didn’t notice the library door open and someone enter.
“That used to be my favourite book as a child,” a voice said and Lily jumped, the book flying in the air.
James, who was standing a few feet in front of her, caught it expertly in his hands.
She looked at him in surprise, wondering what he was doing here. “Really?” she gently replied.
He nodded. “When Nigel takes his step-father for a trip in the sky and then drops him deliberately into the Thames, that’s my favourite part. It always used to make me laugh when I was younger.”
Lily was uncertain how to act around him, suddenly feeling shy, having kissed him. She’d always seen James as attractive, but his coldness had made that easy to overlook. But now she knew him better, now she knew what it was like when he came to life, and now she felt her face growing red at his presence and her heart beat a little faster.
“My favourite part is when he learns to fly,” she said.
He gave her a smile and then pointed to the spot on the floor next to her. “May I?” he asked.
She nodded and then watched him as he sat beside her.
“You’re home early,” she stated.
His eyes met hers. “Yeah, I started early so I could finish sooner.”
“Oh,” she replied. Her gaze dropped to the floor and she could feel him watching her, which made her cheeks burn even more.
“Miss Evans?” he asked after a few moments.
She lifted her gaze back up to his.
“About last night,” he began. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. It was wrong of me and I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s all right,” she assured him.
“But it isn’t,” he cut in. “I was a mess and you were there and I took advantage of that. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you-,”
“You didn’t,” she interrupted.
“Not physically. But I forced you into something without asking you first.”
“I would have told you if I didn’t want to do it.” And she realised that was true: vow or no vow, she knew if James did demand something of her, she would be able to refuse him without feeling his wrath, because James wasn’t that kind of person. “Besides,” she continued. “It was a good kiss.”
He let out a hollow laugh and looked at her. She gave him a smile.
“I’ve never discussed my parents with anyone,” he told her. “Only the Dark Lord knows what truly happened to them and sometimes I wonder if he remembers just how much he changed my life; other times I think he realises just what hold he has over me. When I saw how happy you were about the Resistance and how you talked about them defeating the Dark Lord - somehow, that made me mad. Because it meant that I was to be overcome too, and under different circumstances, it could have been me in the Resistance, had my parents not been ordered to the Ministry; I could have been fighting for justice. And then that just made me think about my parents and what happened to them.”
She bit her lip. “I really am sorry for what happened to them.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
“How can you work alongside him, after everything he’s done? And how come he favours you so much?”
James shrugged. “What happened to my parents, it made me numb and indifferent. I internalised my feelings about it and then shut myself off to everything else. I went through the motions but I was never really feeling, never truly living. It’s easy to work with someone like him and do the things he wants when you don’t give a damn about anything. As to why he favours me, I’m not sure. I think he sees me as his creation. He broke me down and built me up to do his bidding.”
Lily let out a shudder and James, mistaking it for a cold shiver, instinctively inched closer to her.
“You hate him, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Although I always suppressed how much I hated him until recently.”
“James?”
He looked at her. “Yes?”
“Would you ever seek vengeance for what he did to you?”
“I’ve never thought about it,” he admitted. “I was so downtrodden that I never could.”
“But what about now?”
“I wouldn’t even know how to.”
“You know, I believe that the Resistance can defeat him.”
James let out a sigh. “Why do you have so much faith in a group that hasn’t shown itself in years?”
Lily shrugged. “They give me hope of better things to come. And faith - isn’t that what keeps people going?”
“I wouldn’t know,” James answered.
Lily’s eyes traced James’ face. “You could help the Resistance.”
He emitted an empty laugh. “And they’ll what? Welcome me with open arms? I may not be their biggest enemy, but surely I’m in their top five.”
“But you’re not who they think you are; you’re not a bad person.”
“Not to you, but I have done terrible things that I can’t atone for.”
“Have you ever killed anyone?” she demanded, though she wasn’t sure if her opinion of him would change if the answer was yes.
He shook his head. “Not directly, but because of me people have died. I’ve prosecuted Muggles and Muggle-borns and Merlin knows that I’ve made enough people suffer.”
Lily momentarily closed her eyes. “I trust you,” she finally said. “And despite what you’ve done, I have faith that you’re a good person.”
His eyes blazed. Lily knew no one had ever told him that before.
“You may be a top aide of the Dark Lord and you may have had to do terrible things in order to reach that position, but you chose me and spared me from a terrible fate; you saved me. And you gave me free will when I could have been yours to do what you wanted with. Then when the Dark Lord came, you concealed me from him.” Lily frowned. “There’s a contradiction there and I’m not quite sure what that it is, but if you’re as bad as people say you are, then why am I here?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I told myself that I picked you because I was bored and I wanted a reward.”
Lily’s frown deepened. “But you’ve never treated me like some sort of prize.”
James shrugged. “Then maybe on another level, I picked you because I felt sorry for you.”
“You acted out of humanity,” she stated.
James looked surprised. “I didn’t think I had any left.”
Their eyes locked.
“James, I think that out of anyone, you hold the power to change things. You could thwart the Dark Lord’s plans to stamp out the Resistance. You could give them a fighting chance.”
“The Dark Lord is a powerful man, Miss Evans,” he pointed out. “It wouldn’t be easy.”
“He wouldn’t suspect you. Maybe he might have done when you first joined him, but enough time had passed that surely he has grown complacent.” Lily suddenly recalled something. “And you’re a Legilimen,” she said, remembering his threat to read her mind when she first arrived. “Surely that means you also know Occlumency. That would help!”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But I’d have to think about it. What you’re asking me to do is a big thing. And being under the Dark Lord’s reign is all I know. For me to go against that, I’d have to really believe things can change.”
She nodded in understanding. “I know you have qualms about the Resistance, but if you have one reason to want to change things and to make things better, let that reason be your parents. They deserve justice and they would want their son to bring about the world they believed in.” It was a daring move bringing up his parents, but James just closed his eyes and nodded, not saying a word.
After a few minutes, he opened his eyes. “And what about you, Miss Evans? What would your place be in all this?”
“I’d want to join the Resistance,” she told him. “Because I want justice for my family too. And for Remus, if he really is dead. And for anyone who died unjustly. I want to make this world a better place and I’d do anything to make that happen.”
Silence fell; the two of them knowing that for Lily to achieve those things, James would have to free her.
“Thank you,” Lily said, after a while. “For finishing work early and coming to see me. And thank you for picking me. You’ll never know just how grateful I am for that.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and he placed his hand over hers; the two of them sat in silence, thinking about the world that used to be and the world that could be - if only they were given the chance.
+++
Part Five