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paulamcgChallenge 13
In your own space, create a fanwork.
Thanks to all the shiny Snowflakes I’ve felt inspired and encouraged to write and publish fic. Without these challenges I might not have completed a draft for a fic and contacted my beta yesterday. In case that piece turns out to be a separate short story and not the (failed) fest fic (failed because the character who was supposed to be the protagonist ended up sleeping through most of the piece), I’ll be able to post it here sometime after Wednesday. And after challenge #12 was announced, I’ve tripled my word count on another fest fic started at the end of December. Besides, all the interaction here has made me post more of my LJ-posted fics to AO3. I think it’s appropriate to post today a fic about friends getting together – and to post it both here and
on AO3.
Title: Layers of Treasure
Author:paulamcg
Rating: R
Pairing: Lily/James, Alice/Frank, subtle Remus/Sirius
Characters: Lily, Alice, Frank, James, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Amelia
Summary: At the end of their second summer after leaving Hogwarts, old friends gather to a welcoming and farewell party.
Disclaimer: Lily and her friends will never help me make any money.
Notes: This piece can stand on its own, but it also belongs to the same extensive story in my Rowling's-first-five-novels-compliant universe as the rest of my fanfiction. My Lily and (other) Marauders and a lot of their friends, including Lily's dormmates Alice (future wife of Frank Longbottom) and Amelia Bones, left Hogwarts in summer 1976. Notes on the music after the story text.
Word count: 6675
Layers of Treasure
Her charms have guided the two large and flat bowls to land just so on the scarf which she’s spread on the floor. Still, she kneels next to them – as she feels like breathing in the scents of mint and lemon. It’s lovely to get to share her new favourites, tabbouleh and mutabbai with James and her other friends.
With a glance she counts the lowball glasses arranged on a corner of the scarf – eight – and then smooths the soft cotton fabric, admiring the black and white fishnet pattern – and hesitates once more. Perhaps it’s not appropriate to use this scarf as a table cloth... even though she’s not going to use a table, but the dishes are laid down for them to sit on the carpet when eating, in the way she did during her trip. She needs to learn more about what the scarf means to the people who call it keffiyeh. In any case it could be protected with a transparent sheet of plastic, or with another charm...
Jerks on her both plaits jolt her out of her reveries. Alice has sneaked to crouch behind her. “Admiring your culinary masterpieces? Salads a la Lily!”
“They smell and look delicious, don’t they? I think I succeeded. Fresh and rich like the food in Syria.”
“I wish you paid half as much attention to preparing your own looks for the party. What’s this childish hairdo?” Alice pulls at a plait again.
Lily elbows her. “Stop that!”
She waves her wand towards the keffiyeh in a soundless protection spell, then takes Alice unawares by suddenly shifting backwards. They tumble together across the velvety carpet, laughing.
When they’re far enough from the food, Lily sits up. “All right, you can fix my hair now.” She pulls off one of the ponytail holders.
Alice has already taken the other one, and she’s now stretching the elastic band, as if she threatened to hit Lily’s arm hard with one of the green plastic beads on it. But she looks at it more closely, then hands it to Lily, and nods, approvingly. “At least you’ve chosen the colour to suit your eyes.”
“Oh, I got these from Petunia.”
“I thought she hates you.” Alice starts to unbraid the hair.
“I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve left Hogwarts... She sent me birthday presents this year. These ponytail holders, and an album of soft rock: silly cheesy songs. But anyway. It’s nice to try and be friends again.”
Lily twists the elastic bands, caresses the beads, now revelling in Alice’s tender fingers against her scalp. Her big sister used to offer to help with her hair like this. It’s so red! That’s what Petunia always said to her – and in such a way that she never knew if it was admiration or deprecation. And when listening to the album for the first time, Lily was startled by the lyrics of one romantic ballad – even though that was the hit, the song she’d heard before: all that I so want to give you… Perhaps Petunia meant to say something with that gift. But she’s not replied to Lily’s thank-you letter, and they haven’t met, just exchanged post cards: Petunia’s came from a package holiday in Benidorm, and Lily sent one from Damascus.
She can’t wait to get back and continue, cross the desert to Palmyra. Perhaps she should tell Alice now; perhaps a flatmate has the right to know before anyone else.
Alice has summoned two mirrors. After using both magic and fingers to form large ringlets from the waves left by the braiding, she levitates the mirrors expertly in such positions that Lily can see the elaborate arrangement of her curls on the back of her head, too.
“Alice, you know I’m so glad...”
“Oh, I love doing hair. And yours is so long and thick it’s a challenge for my hands and my wand.”
“You always make it lovely.” A bit too voluminous – like a beehive this time, with the hair combed up from her forehead. “Thank you. For this welcoming feast, too. I want you to be the first to hear: it’s also a farewell party.”
The mirrors fall down – one softly onto the carpet, the other on Alice’s knee. “No! Not again.”
“What? This is the first time we combine the two.” Lily lifts the hem of Alice’s new Muggle dress to check if she’s hurt herself, blows on the knee.
“All right, but I’m afraid you don’t mean it to be the last.” Standing up abruptly, Alice escapes Lily’s attempts at a hug. “And I want at least a new party, if you must leave us again.”
“I’ll be back – and on my way again, and I can’t promise two parties every time. But I’ll continue to pay my share of the rent. And while I’m away, you can have Frank stay as much as you like.”
Alice has marched to the door of her bedroom, but now she stops, lets Lily come and hug her. “You’re too generous. I’d like to say you don’t have to pay if you stay away for a month or more, but please don’t! We’ll all miss you. We all need you here. The boys...”
The last words are the reaction to the doorbell, but they startle Lily for more than one reason. Perhaps it’s true: they do, and not only James.
Pushing Lily towards the other bedroom, Alice hurries to open the door. “Quickly, get the necklace James gave you.”
But it’s only Frank. While fumbling on the clasp in the silver chain of the stag pendant, Lily can hear his voice, then some rustling, perhaps just imagines the sound of a kiss. She returns to the sitting room to find Alice and Frank intertwined, slouching in the bean bag chair.
“Hello, Frank! Welcome!”
The ex Quidditch hero lifts his handsome head from his fiancée’s bosom. “Oh, Lily! I’m welcoming you back home. How did you like the Bedouins?”
“Thanks. It was all lovely, but we stayed mainly in the capital and I didn’t meet many Bedouins...” Yet – but she manages to stop herself from saying that.
“What was that trip about?” He’s still partly focused on Alice’s cleavage. “Did the Curse Removal Office send you to a meeting as their representative or what?”
“No, no. I left the job at the Ministry at the beginning of the summer. I now apprentice at Gringotts.”
Lily summons a bundle of candles and starts lighting them with her wand, then sends them up to hover above their heads. She enjoys creating atmosphere by combining wizard and Muggle ways: magic for lights, electricity for music.
Since there’s no response, she strides further in the room, closer to the window, and proceeds to sort out her record collection, and continues, merely glancing at the couple, “I got enough of the Ministry bureaucracy, even though I worked there for less than a year and only part-time – while doing some Oxford courses of Runes and Arithmancy. I resigned, concentrated on the courses, completed them, and applied for the Curse-Breaker apprenticeship.”
“Really? Do you think it was wise to leave the Ministry. You know, I’m just joining: I’ve got accepted for Auror training.”
“Yes, I heard. Congratulations!” She turns her head and gives him the smile evoked by one of her new favourite albums – which she puts aside, though, because they need music suitable for dancing, besides the Arabic music, of course. “It’s nice you can start together with Alice.”
“I convinced him it’s the best career. And he helped me prepare so we both passed the tests.” Alice pushes herself up from the bean bag. “But now let’s prepare some drinks and get less serious”
As she pulls Frank to the kitchen, Lily stays behind, steps to the window, wondering whether to close it and draw the curtains yet – and is startled by the arrival of an owl. In the sunset glow, with the bird on her shoulder, she reads: A bit late. Sorry. A.
“I hope you like pitta,” she’s saying to the owl when she steps to the doorway and sees Frank and Alice standing by the draining board, busy emptying various bottles into their largest glass bowl.
Frank eyes the label on her bottle of arak and says, without glancing up, “Don’t worry...”
“Don’t use all of that for the punch!” Lily hurries to say at the same time.
“All right. Don’t worry: I think he’s all right. I do prefer James and Remus to Peter, but I guessed you’d invite...”
Alice laughs. “She’s talking about the bread: pitta bread, not Peter!”
Lily has arrived next to them and is reaching to tear off a piece of one of the flat loaves. Having left the bread to cool, she’s now satisfied to notice that the two layers of baked dough can, indeed, be separated – that by heating the oven hot enough she’s achieved the proper interior pocket in her pitta.
“And she’s talking to an owl, not to you!” Alice adds, while Lily offers the piece of bread to the bird.
“Well, I hope you, too, like both my bread and my friends.”
When the owl has swallowed and, hooting her thanks, flies back towards the open window, Lily uses her wand to pile the loaves on a plate. And now she hears the doorbell rung in a rhythm which – with some goodwill – can be recognised as inspired by her old favourite Killer Queen.
“It must be those dear boys now. I’ll let them in. You just go on with the mixing and make enough for everyone.” Lily grabs the half-empty bottle of arak.
“Or maybe it’s Amelia,” Alice suggests.
“No. Oh, I forgot to say: the owl brought this from her.” Lily thrusts the note to Alice and strides out of the kitchen, levitating the plate of pitta in front of her.
“Look at this! She works too hard,” she hears Alice complain to Frank. “She’s got full-time apprenticeship at Law Enforcement, and several Oxford courses.”
New Queen-inspired variations – improvised on doorbell, knocks and whistles – make Lily smile. Now she’ll introduce her friends to some new rhythms. After placing the plate and the bottle on the keffiyeh, Lily still lets the boys wait. She takes her time – using no magic in selecting carefully one of the discs in the double album which was recommended to her as the best, then the song which made her fall in love with the amazing female voice. Sa’alak Habibi. Lowering the needle on the right track, she finally points her wand at the door so as to both open the Muggle lock and undo her and Alice’s sealing charm with two quick spells.
Her boys charge in. All four together, inseparable. And so boisterous that her domestic favourite, the new Pink Floyd would certainly suit better: Animals. But she can’t help loving them: the three Animagi and the Beast, as he calls himself, calling her the Beauty.
And when walking slowly around the keffiyeh and towards them under the hovering candles, without saying a word, she’s happy to notice them grow quiet, too. Perhaps they can even sense some of the magic in the music, and she’ll play just this side of the disc again and again while they’re eating, so they’ll start learning to know and appreciate it.
They’re now standing still near the door; only James steps forward to meet her. Just before he tilts his shaggy head, she catches a glimpse of Sirius nudging Remus with an elbow and Peter starting to clap. To the accompaniment of their applause and to Fairuz’s incredible singing, she delves into the pleasures of his lips, his tongue, his taste, his heartbeat... Ah, habibi – my beloved!
When she resurfaces from the deep kiss and looks up from James’s embrace, Frank is shaking hands with the other boys.
“Congratulations!” Remus is saying.
Sirius is clapping Frank on the back. “Welcome to our corps! It’s high time you quit sports and join James and me to fight for an important cause. I hope we’ll soon get called to the war.”
James swirls back towards them, wrapping his arm around Lily’s waist ever tighter. “You’re leaving Quidditch? No way!”
“I’ve played professionally for four years, ever since I left school. Now as they want to train more Aurors, I saw a good opportunity to get an education in this way, and get employed by the Ministry. There’s chances for a great career. You know, the ex-captain of my team...”
“You mean MacFarlan?” Peter cuts in. “Head of Magical Games and Sports? He’ll help you with your career?”
“Your team, yes! You can’t leave such a team. Keeper for the Montrose Magpies, the most successful team in the League!” James waves his other arm, as if he were ready to hit Frank, chase him around the flat if necessary – but doesn’t let go of Lily.
She gets the chance to silence him with a kiss. “My dear non-professional chaser! You must let people choose what they do.”
“Yes, on my second try, I got accepted, too.” Now Alice is receiving congratulations.
“And she deserves it. The Ministry finally made the right decision.” Turning towards her, Lily sees she’s brought the glass jug, two thirds full of water, and the ice cubes. “Alice, you are wonderful. Thank you! See, Alice takes care of the important things – once again some things I forgot.”
“That’s how she takes care of something as important as drinks?” Sirius snorts. “Ice water!”
“Don’t worry. That’s just for mixing the apéritifs I’ve planned for our Syrian meal. Alice has also remembered and guided his famous fiancé to the important task of preparing a punch.” Lily changes to stage whisper, rising on tiptoe to reach James’s ear. “And done my hair.”
“Your hair’s always beautiful.” James has managed to calm down and now stares at her adoringly. “Like the rest of you.”
“You won’t let me forget that – always flattering.” She detaches himself from James. “But I’ve forgotten to greet you: Peter, Remus, Sirius, so good to see you! Now come sit down, literally: down on the carpet in the Syrian way.”
She goes to take Remus’s hand as well as Sirius’s and guides them to sit next to each other on this side of the keffiyeh, facing the last light of sunset. “Frank, you could sit opposite to Sirius, and Alice next to you, of course. And Peter, you here.” She places Peter close to Frank's fiancée, perhaps out of spite, perhaps just because she feels Amelia belongs near Remus. “And James – not too close to the ex-keeper! I’ll stay between the two of you. You sit close to your brother!”
Now she should let the guests talk to each other, comment on her Syrian arrangements, if they’re interested. And they want drinks.
“These are whisky glasses, right?” Sirius is saying hopefully.
Lily’s started using her wand to place a few ice cubes in each of the glasses. But now she takes advantage of the question and introduces the bottle. “This is arak, West-Asian distilled spirit, made of grapes and aniseed.” She tilts the bottle. “Strong enough, so this will suffice for the apéritifs, though Frank and Alice have consumed the best part – for spiking the punch, I hope. Now look: a trick like Muggle magic!”
She pours the clear spirit into the jug of water, and is happy to see her guests admire the mixture turning translucent milky-white.
“Beautiful!” Remus breathes out in his most graceful voice. “Anise. I know it – in an ointment my mother makes. I’ve never tasted it, though.”
“Now, here you are!” Lily pours some of the mixture on the ice in one glass, lifts the glass in her hand to the level of her mouth, kisses the side of the glass, blows and uses her wand to levitate the drink to Remus.
“Ever more beautiful!” Receiving the glass, Remus bows to her. “Thank you.”
When proceeding to fill the other glasses, Lily glances at Remus again. With his impeccable manners he, of course, refrains from tasting the drink yet. Breathing in the fragrance, he closes his eyes for a moment, then smiles blissfully, and nods again as he notices her gaze.
She sends the next glass to Peter, explaining, “This is how Syrian witches and wizards serve drinks: like blowing kisses – some of them without wands.”
James keeps leaning closer to caress her, and to lick her earlobe. She serves his drink with a smack on his mouth.
“This kiss tastes like a healing potion,” Peter soon says.
Frank hurries to respond, “I like it.”
Sirius is trying to read the label. “Strange, but strong enough to start with.”
“Wait! A toast.” Lily looks around at the expectant faces and considers for a moment. “To new choices and changes, and old friends!”
Now again she feels like withdrawing from the conversation for a while. Instead of using her wand, she goes to the record player, and with her back turned to her friends, lifts the needle by hand so as to place it at the beginning of the first track. Since some of them still find this device fascinating and are probably watching her, she can’t resist explaining, “This record, too, is from Damascus, but the singer, Fairuz is actually Lebanese.”
James has, of course, tagged along, and now disturbs her, hugging and kissing her again while looking at the album cover. “She looks gorgeous – so much like you!”
“The song that was playing when you came in was for you: Habibi. It means ‘my love’.” She moves the needle to the same song, after all. “Here it is. I was told it says something like: ‘Tell me: who are we? Why are we looking around scared? Where are we going? We’re moving away...’”
He frowns, perhaps actually listening to her words. But when the singing starts, she hushes and turns their embrace into a slow dance.
“The doorbell!” She hasn’t heard it at all, just Alice’s exclamation. “I’ll open.”
She’s forgotten herself. She was supposed to set the music for their meal, to let her guests start, and to entertain them all. And now Remus is the one who’s stood up and gone to meet Amelia at the door after Alice has only used her wand to open it.
“Sorry, James, let’s get back to this later.” Lily detaches herself, lifts the needle once more and places it at the first track, then hurries to hug Amelia, whom Remus has guided by hand to the place between himself and Peter.
“Amelia dear, so good to see you. Lovely that you could make it so soon, after all. Thanks for the owl. We’ve waited for you, just started with the first drinks.” She summons the last filled glass from the other side of the keffiyeh for Amelia.
Looking a bit tired but already relaxed, Amelia smiles pleasantly. “Your party looks and smells and sounds wonderful. Fascinating music: a great voice. Who is she?”
“Her name’s Fairuz. They call her The Moon’s Neighbour.” This name gives Lily an idea and she continues with new enthusiasm while returning to her place. “Now, at least some of you must be ravenous. Let’s start with these salads.”
Alice draws her wand out again. “We’ve forgotten the plates.”
“No, we won’t need any. Just pieces of pitta. This bread I mean. I’ve baked it in the Syrian way. I’ll show how to use it. Like this, scoop food straight from the big, shared bowls and put it all in your mouth with the pitta.” She’s scooped a generous load of tabbouleh and feeds it to James. “Or preferably your neighbour’s mouth.”
“You’re fooling us.” Sirius frowns. “Or is this really the Syrian way?”
“Yes.” She laughs, and levitates a loaf of pitta to each of his friends. “I’m fooling you. But just with the neighbour part.”
Alice is already feeding a mutabbai-filled piece of pitta to Frank. “This can be our way in any case.”
Peter looks hesitant, or perhaps just curious. “What is that?”
“That’s aubergine – eggplant. The dish is called mutabbai.”
To Lily’s delight Remus has just accepted a mouthful from Amelia, who now proceeds to offer another to Peter. Having watched Sirius and Remus, for their last couple of years at Hogwarts, filling each other’s plates, Lily trusts that this idea of hers will make Remus eat enough now despite his manners and pride and the lack of plates. She can’t shake off the suspicion that he’s famished once again: he looks thinner than before her trip.
Now they’re all tearing pieces of pitta, trying their best to scoop tabbouleh or mutabbai and get it all in their own or someone else’s mouth before dropping too much. When taking part in the shared fun, not even Sirius is shy to feed Remus in this intimate way, which could otherwise make him worry that they resemble a couple too clearly. She must believe there will be others to look after the most vulnerable one of her friends when she’s away.
“Yes, let it be our way: taking care of each other!” she says, perhaps too solemnly. “And having fun. Not making a mess on purpose! But don’t worry if it’s a bit messy first. There’s a protection spell over the keffiyeh – I mean this Syrian, or actually Palestinian scarf.”
“You keep talking about all things Syrian.” Sirius sounds a bit irritated. “Now pour me some more of that Syrian spirit!”
Having just grabbed the jug, Lily hears something that makes her exasperated. As if she were being pestered, two voices sound in her ears simultaneously.
Alice whines, reaching across Peter for Amelia’s hand, “You mustn’t work so hard; drop at least one of your courses, or work half-time!” and James, his hand on Lily’s shoulder, seeking contact with Frank from behind her head, almost shouts, “Really, listen to me! You’re too young to end your Quidditch career!”
“Stop that now!” Lily pokes James with her wand. “Please! And Alice,you, too. You must let people choose...”
When emptying the jug into Sirius’s glass, she realises that everyone’s fallen silent. “Here you are. There’s beer, too. Syrian, for sure. They’ve got two local brands. The Barada brewery in Damascus was founded only this year. You can all summon your bottles from our fridge. Accio, Barada beer!”
She’s kept talking so as to cover her annoyance and fill the silence. But after a bottle has flown to her hand, she gets the urge to escape again.
Thrusting the beer to James, she stands up. “Excuse me. I’d better go and bring the main course in more cautiously.”
Alone in the kitchen, she calms down when taking the baking tray out of the oven, breathing in the spicy steam. The kubbeh is beautiful, golden brown, and it’s stayed hot enough since she returned it to the oven after baking the pitta. The fridge door opens and closes a few times, and some beer bottles swirl past her when she walks back slowly, levitating the tray just before her, almost touching it with her wand tip.
“Make space for the tray,” she asks, and she can hardly tone down the pride and excitement when adding, “This is baked kubbeh: minced lamb and bulgur wheat – cracked wheat – and spices, of course: cinnamon, cardamom, cumin, coriander...”
Everyone tucks in eagerly – some pretending to be suspicious, offering the first kubbeh-loaded pitta piece to their neighbour for taste-testing.
While thrusting a piece towards Remus’s mouth casually, without checking his aim, Sirius turns to Lily with a teasing smile. “When you were in the kitchen, Frank and James had a proper fight – with wands.”
“What!”
James pats Lily on her beehive. “Don’t worry! Frank won. That’s great. We’re founding Aurors’ Quidditch team – the best amateur team in Britain!”
She rewards him with a kiss on the nose and a sincere smile of relief and happiness. She loves his quickness in seeing the good side in everything, his way of supporting her firm trust that things will turn out all right and better.
Now one half of the company is talking about Quidditch, the other half about Oxford courses. Even Peter shows interest in Amelia’s studies: between gulps of beer and mouthfuls of food, the latter mainly offered to Amelia, he’s asking for tips to help him pass a course.
Remus looks around at Lily, licking his lips and smiling. “Sorry: we haven’t asked you about your trip. I’m sure you’ve got loads to tell us.”
“Yes, in three weeks you must have learnt more about Syrian breweries.” Sirius summons his second beer with a soundless Accio.
Alice stuffs Frank’s mouth and manages to stop the Quidditch talk. “Please, Lily, tell us now! You haven’t had time to tell even me much about the trip. What did you do? Besides buying groceries and collecting recipies!”
Lily’s used her wand to move the needle back to the beginning of the record. “Oh, my duties in Syria were not so exciting.” Not yet. “It was just rather tedious negotiations between the Gringotts delegation and Syrian Wizarding Bank.”
“Why would they take a new apprentice in the delegation?” Peter asks.
“They wanted to test me – my patience, for instance. And train me in the initial phase of acquiring a trove. Maybe also...” She’d rather not admit even to herself the suspicion that her goblin boss believed the presence of a charming young lady would seduce the Syrian negotiators to an outcome more favourable for Gringotts. “It gave a good impression that not only our senior Curse-Breaker but also the youngest, the apprentice could demonstrate excellent skill with wand. You know, the local bank often agrees to surrender to Gringotts about half of a treasure when it’s protected with strong curses. Because the locals lack the curse-breaking skills, or because they are more vulnerable to the effects of a domestic curse.”
At least Amelia looks like she’s listened carefully. “And you reached an agreement?”
“Yes, after numerous business lunches and dinners.” Lily grins.
Peter’s curious, too. “And the trove?”
“It’s in Palmyra, an ancient oasis city.” Now she can’t quite hide her excitement. “We got the right to cross the desert at the beginning of September.”
James has held his hand on Lily’s shoulder, and now he squeezes it hard. “In a week from now.”
“Yes. It’s so exciting.” Lily lifts her hand to stroke James’s, to make it relax its hold, but she looks around only at the others while launching into the story which still enchants her. “Some Muggle experts from Poland have just discovered this huge statue: in pieces, reused for the foundation of the temple. It’s the temple of Al-Lat. Al-Lat is an ancient Arabian goddess of war and peace. In later statues she looks like Athena or Minerva. But this statue is a giant relief of a lion sheltering a gazelle. A lion! As a Gryffindor I’m so proud to start my career at this excavation. We’ll need some weeks to remove or counter the curses which hide the treasure. There are layers of treasure because it’s come under the protection of Al-Lat’s Lion in different eras...”
“In a week?” James’s tensed voice interrupts her. “Do you mean you’re going to Syria again in a week?”
In a couple of days, rather. She doesn’t want to put it like that, and now she must look at him, but she finds him looking away, just breathing hard. She says, “We must be in Damascus a couple of days before crossing to Palmyra.”
He turns to her, but to her relief, he’s not shouting. “I thought you’ll do this apprenticeship in Diagon Alley.”
“You thought… You know this is why I left the Ministry Curse Removal Office. For the real Curse-Breaker career. This is what I’ve planned and worked for ever since I chose my NEWT courses. This is the opportunity I...”
“We know,” Sirius cuts in, nudging James. “Congratulations!” He raises his beer bottle. “To Al-Lat’s Lion!”
“To the lion a la Lily!” Alice laughs.
Lily watches them join in the toast, all merry, just James still a bit gloomy, and Remus peculiarly wistful.
“Thank you! And please take more kubbah! We must finish it.” She levitates more pitta first to Sirius, Remus and Amelia. “Sirius, tell me: has your brother and flatmate practised cooking?”
Sirius, with his mouth already full, only shakes his head.
“Fortunately I haven’t promised not to marry him before he learns.” Lily scoops some kubbah for James and fills his mouth – first briefly with her tongue. “Now this is my opportunity to see and learn more. This is the time for travelling. But there will be periods of office work in London, too. And later I’ll do more of that. There will come a time for me to settle.”
“All right.” James looks reconciled enough. “But could we have some British music for a change?”
Lily shouldn’t feel disappointed. She knew James wouldn’t learn to really love something so foreign immediately.
Sirius jumps up, volunteering, “Let me take care of it! I’ve used that thing before.”
He and James go together to the record player. Trying not to worry about her records, Lily turns towards Remus, shifts a bit closer and offers him a kubbah-filled piece of pitta. He accepts it but declines with a polite gesture of his hand when she points at the bowls and the tray, asking what he’d like next.
“Your Syrian cuisine is excellent. But I’ve already had too much. So much...” and it seems to slip out, “more than I’m used to eating.”
Perhaps he’s had enough to drink too, so that he’s not careful to hide his neediness. That’s a sobering thought. Perhaps she should worry.
“How are you?” she asks gravely. “How have you been doing?”
“Thank you, I’m fine.”
She stares at him, raises her eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Well, I returned from the Cotswolds a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps I should have still stayed at my parents’. There aren’t courses at Oxford for me yet. And the scholarship resumes only after September.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell your parents you need money for the rent.”
He shakes his head with a small lopsided grin. “I’m not telling about such a thing to you or anyone else.”
Perhaps the need to conceal – and to reveal – his lycanthropy has trained him in this evasive but confidential way of talking about his situation. It’s obvious that the scholarship Dumbledore arranged for Dark Creature studies is far from sufficient. And he’s got no choice. No chance for paid apprenticeship, hardly even for occasional menial work.
“Did you get to rent the same room you had for the first year?”
He nods.
To him independence is more important than to anyone else. He wouldn’t agree, at least not suggest that he share a flat with one of them. Just because he can hardly afford his crumby room, let alone half of the rent of a proper flat – and couldn’t possibly match them in daily expenditure.
“Your lovely landlady… Now that half of my colleagues are goblins, too, I wouldn’t mind going to see her. You know, I’d like to do that on your behalf. Also because Frank’s taking my share of this flat while I’m away the whole month.”
“Lily, you are incredible,” is his sincere thanks.
She must trust he’ll now dare spend his scant money on eating enough.
At this moment she hears the first of the chords she’s just learnt on her guitar. She places a finger on her lips, and keeping the eye contact, makes sure that Remus, too, listens to the opening lyrics of the amazing album: If you didn't care/ What happened to me/ And I didn't care/ For you…
Sirius is not listening. “We’ll get one of these. I can pay for the electricity.”
But he’s interested in the album, too. Leaning against the windowsill next to James, he’s examining the album cover. He must have chosen it because of the title, and now he exclaims, “Listen to this! The second song is called Dogs.”
“He likes dogs,” James explains casually to everyone.
Remus empties his bottle and bends to say in Lily’s ear, not quite whispering, “I love a dog.”
“I love my Animals,” she replies. “This is my new favourite, besides Fairuz.”
“Time to get ever less serious,” Alice says, clambering to her feet. “Time for the punch.”
She helps Lily return the bowls, the tray and the plate to the kitchen, and takes the punch bowl to the sitting room while Lily stays to pack the leftovers and to shrink the packages with a charm, so that she’ll be able to sneak them to Remus, for him to take home. Lily’s just placing the tiny packages in the fridge when James wraps her in his arms from behind.
She wriggles around to face him, pushing the fridge closed behind her. Hardly needing to register any question or demand of his, she lifts her hands to his cheeks and attacks him with a ferocious kiss.
“Seal the door!” she says breathlessly.
When he pulls out his wand, she moves away, backs towards the small kitchen table, pushes with her hands to get to sit on the table, lifts her hem to the waist. He approaches her, grinning, then bends to lick her bellybutton, soon moves his tongue between her thighs. She lies on her back, lifts her hips to help him pull her knickers out of his way.
Sweet, lush, so sweet. Now his tongue’s rubbing her right there as he’s learnt so well by now. So sweet – the touch she’s missed!
He’s missed it so much that he can barely resist rushing, but it’s all good. They’ll have a couple of days for slowly winding paths to evolving ways of loving each other’s skin and the moist, most sensitive treasures – for finding new pleasures to cherish and miss when miles and miles away.
She grabs his mop with one hand and pulls his head closer to hers, supporting herself on one elbow, reaches to kiss his mouth. As she tastes her own arousal, she allows him to move right in, deep, to fill her up, and she holds him tight, then guides him to a rhythm. He quickens it, rushes, finishes too soon with a shudder. But it’s all right.
“Love you,” they say to each other’s mouths, and she adds, “Later tonight again – with less hurry!”
When, having quickly made themselves look decent, they exit the kitchen hand in hand, the warm glow in Lily’s mind spreads with sparkles of joy. Her tenderness covers all these lovely people together.
The keffiyeh is fluttering just under the candles. Alice is levitating it towards the window.
Peter’s trying to push himself to sit up in the bean bag chair, and spills some punch from his glass. He’s shouting to Frank some questions about the Head of Magical Sports over the sound of Pink Floyd’s Sheep: Lo, we shall rise up.
Amelia’s in the corner by the punch bowl, pointing her wand at her glass, explaining to suspicious Alice, “This Vanishing Spell makes only the hangover disappear, not the alcohol. But don’t worry, I won’t use it on the whole bowlful if you don’t want.”
The keffiyeh now hovers vertically in front of the windowpane. And against it Sirius’s head leans closer to Remus’s. Just as Roger Waters plays those first chords again, now for the closing, Remus stops Sirius’s hand from lifting the glass, whispers to his ear, perhaps asking him to listen.
For that minute and a half Lily rests her head on James’s shoulder. Having patted his chest, she walks over to find her guitar near the records – and a pick in her pocket, where she’s placed it, hoping for a suitable moment to perform what she learnt just before the trip.
“I’m going to play only one song, and then we can have music for dancing,” she announces, leaning against the windowsill, right beside Remus. “It’s the song you just heard. Just in case there’s someone who didn’t listen closely. This is dedicated to you, particularly to some of the dear animals present.”
She starts strumming, first looks at the fretting fingers, then up at Remus, catching his eye, and nods to him when beginning to sing, “If you didn't care...”
Warmth spreads through her anew when she hears Remus’s voice join hers, at first a bit unsure and only in some lines, those he’s already memorised, “And I didn’t care/ For you … Through the boredom and pain … Wondering which of the buggers to blame.”
The whole of the second part they sing in duet, “You know that I care/ What happens to you/ And I know that you care/ For me, too/ So I don't feel alone/ Or the weight of the stone/ Now that I've found somewhere safe to bury my bone/ And any fool knows a dog needs a home/ A shelter/ From pigs on the wing.”
As she feels the warmth turn into a blush, Lily sees it mirrored in Remus’s face, now ruddy and beaming, when all the others applaud. Even Peter, who also whistles, and struggles and rises from his chair. Sirius claps Remus on the shoulder, and covertly leaves the hand to rub his back.
But almost at once Sirius moves restlessly, grabs an album. “There’s You Make Me Feel Like Dancing on this one. Sounds right!”
That’s not the best… Lily wants to protest but keeps quiet. Perhaps Petunia’s gift is the right choice, after all. After Sirius has set A-side of the record to start from the beginning, Lily pulls both him and Remus to the middle of the floor, where Alice welcomes them with open arms, an open smile. Peter empties another glass of punch and joins them, and Amelia follows, pushing Frank and James in front of her.
Shaking her body to the simple rhythm of the music, Lily smiles to them all, swirls around to see each face. She lifts her face up, and the candles swirl above her. Now her friends have moved to form a circle. Alice has taken Amelia’s hand, makes her swing and swirl. The two sportsmen seem lazy to lift their feet, resort to just shaking themselves and flailing their arms. Oh, James, so tensed still, fears he’ll miss a beat, but doesn’t want to show it. She catches his eye, nods her approval, and at once he’s full of confidence. Like that so lush, so sweet and firm.
Losing herself to the music, she closes her eyes. Someone’s singing along, Peter this time. Now she must see this. Remus is swirling and jumping, and so is Peter; they’re copying each other’s moves, grinning, and Sirius is grinning, clapping to the beat. Through the sadder lyrics of the third song they’re dancing wilder and wilder.
And suddenly it’s the start of the ballad. Remus and Peter have stopped to catch their breaths, laughing. Alice is already leaning on Frank, her cheek on his broad chest.
Lily could as well simply lean back and trust that James is there to hold her. Yes. His arms circle her waist. She turns and lifts her hands to his neck. “This one’s for you, too.”
In a slow kiss she guides his whole body, too, to find the lead of the music. Pressing against him, she sighs out her happiness.
And looks out over his shoulder to see Peter put away a glass and march from the punch bowl straight to Amelia, bow her to dance.
There they are, her dear canines, too. Sirius has escaped behind the punch bowl, taken out his pack of fags, Remus moved towards the window. The two of them are only staring at each other, although no one else is looking.
Now it’s time for her to sing along, in James’s ear, “But you know I won't be travelling a lifetime...”
It’s all right. They need each other, but they’ve got lifetimes to find their ways and homes in love.
Notes: Sa’altak Habibi is sung by Fairuz on double album Mais El Rim, released in 1972. Pigs on the Wing (Parts 1 and 2), as well as Dogs and Sheep are tracks of Pink Floyd’s concept album Animals, released in January 1977. You Make Me Feel Like Dancing and When I Need You (number one hit in UK in February 1977) are tracks two and four of Leo Sayer’s 1976 album Endless Flight.
In your own space, create a fanwork.
Thanks to all the shiny Snowflakes I’ve felt inspired and encouraged to write and publish fic. Without these challenges I might not have completed a draft for a fic and contacted my beta yesterday. In case that piece turns out to be a separate short story and not the (failed) fest fic (failed because the character who was supposed to be the protagonist ended up sleeping through most of the piece), I’ll be able to post it here sometime after Wednesday. And after challenge #12 was announced, I’ve tripled my word count on another fest fic started at the end of December. Besides, all the interaction here has made me post more of my LJ-posted fics to AO3. I think it’s appropriate to post today a fic about friends getting together – and to post it both here and
on AO3.
Title: Layers of Treasure
Author:
paulamcgRating: R
Pairing: Lily/James, Alice/Frank, subtle Remus/Sirius
Characters: Lily, Alice, Frank, James, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Amelia
Summary: At the end of their second summer after leaving Hogwarts, old friends gather to a welcoming and farewell party.
Disclaimer: Lily and her friends will never help me make any money.
Notes: This piece can stand on its own, but it also belongs to the same extensive story in my Rowling's-first-five-novels-compliant universe as the rest of my fanfiction. My Lily and (other) Marauders and a lot of their friends, including Lily's dormmates Alice (future wife of Frank Longbottom) and Amelia Bones, left Hogwarts in summer 1976. Notes on the music after the story text.
Word count: 6675
Layers of Treasure
Her charms have guided the two large and flat bowls to land just so on the scarf which she’s spread on the floor. Still, she kneels next to them – as she feels like breathing in the scents of mint and lemon. It’s lovely to get to share her new favourites, tabbouleh and mutabbai with James and her other friends.
With a glance she counts the lowball glasses arranged on a corner of the scarf – eight – and then smooths the soft cotton fabric, admiring the black and white fishnet pattern – and hesitates once more. Perhaps it’s not appropriate to use this scarf as a table cloth... even though she’s not going to use a table, but the dishes are laid down for them to sit on the carpet when eating, in the way she did during her trip. She needs to learn more about what the scarf means to the people who call it keffiyeh. In any case it could be protected with a transparent sheet of plastic, or with another charm...
Jerks on her both plaits jolt her out of her reveries. Alice has sneaked to crouch behind her. “Admiring your culinary masterpieces? Salads a la Lily!”
“They smell and look delicious, don’t they? I think I succeeded. Fresh and rich like the food in Syria.”
“I wish you paid half as much attention to preparing your own looks for the party. What’s this childish hairdo?” Alice pulls at a plait again.
Lily elbows her. “Stop that!”
She waves her wand towards the keffiyeh in a soundless protection spell, then takes Alice unawares by suddenly shifting backwards. They tumble together across the velvety carpet, laughing.
When they’re far enough from the food, Lily sits up. “All right, you can fix my hair now.” She pulls off one of the ponytail holders.
Alice has already taken the other one, and she’s now stretching the elastic band, as if she threatened to hit Lily’s arm hard with one of the green plastic beads on it. But she looks at it more closely, then hands it to Lily, and nods, approvingly. “At least you’ve chosen the colour to suit your eyes.”
“Oh, I got these from Petunia.”
“I thought she hates you.” Alice starts to unbraid the hair.
“I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve left Hogwarts... She sent me birthday presents this year. These ponytail holders, and an album of soft rock: silly cheesy songs. But anyway. It’s nice to try and be friends again.”
Lily twists the elastic bands, caresses the beads, now revelling in Alice’s tender fingers against her scalp. Her big sister used to offer to help with her hair like this. It’s so red! That’s what Petunia always said to her – and in such a way that she never knew if it was admiration or deprecation. And when listening to the album for the first time, Lily was startled by the lyrics of one romantic ballad – even though that was the hit, the song she’d heard before: all that I so want to give you… Perhaps Petunia meant to say something with that gift. But she’s not replied to Lily’s thank-you letter, and they haven’t met, just exchanged post cards: Petunia’s came from a package holiday in Benidorm, and Lily sent one from Damascus.
She can’t wait to get back and continue, cross the desert to Palmyra. Perhaps she should tell Alice now; perhaps a flatmate has the right to know before anyone else.
Alice has summoned two mirrors. After using both magic and fingers to form large ringlets from the waves left by the braiding, she levitates the mirrors expertly in such positions that Lily can see the elaborate arrangement of her curls on the back of her head, too.
“Alice, you know I’m so glad...”
“Oh, I love doing hair. And yours is so long and thick it’s a challenge for my hands and my wand.”
“You always make it lovely.” A bit too voluminous – like a beehive this time, with the hair combed up from her forehead. “Thank you. For this welcoming feast, too. I want you to be the first to hear: it’s also a farewell party.”
The mirrors fall down – one softly onto the carpet, the other on Alice’s knee. “No! Not again.”
“What? This is the first time we combine the two.” Lily lifts the hem of Alice’s new Muggle dress to check if she’s hurt herself, blows on the knee.
“All right, but I’m afraid you don’t mean it to be the last.” Standing up abruptly, Alice escapes Lily’s attempts at a hug. “And I want at least a new party, if you must leave us again.”
“I’ll be back – and on my way again, and I can’t promise two parties every time. But I’ll continue to pay my share of the rent. And while I’m away, you can have Frank stay as much as you like.”
Alice has marched to the door of her bedroom, but now she stops, lets Lily come and hug her. “You’re too generous. I’d like to say you don’t have to pay if you stay away for a month or more, but please don’t! We’ll all miss you. We all need you here. The boys...”
The last words are the reaction to the doorbell, but they startle Lily for more than one reason. Perhaps it’s true: they do, and not only James.
Pushing Lily towards the other bedroom, Alice hurries to open the door. “Quickly, get the necklace James gave you.”
But it’s only Frank. While fumbling on the clasp in the silver chain of the stag pendant, Lily can hear his voice, then some rustling, perhaps just imagines the sound of a kiss. She returns to the sitting room to find Alice and Frank intertwined, slouching in the bean bag chair.
“Hello, Frank! Welcome!”
The ex Quidditch hero lifts his handsome head from his fiancée’s bosom. “Oh, Lily! I’m welcoming you back home. How did you like the Bedouins?”
“Thanks. It was all lovely, but we stayed mainly in the capital and I didn’t meet many Bedouins...” Yet – but she manages to stop herself from saying that.
“What was that trip about?” He’s still partly focused on Alice’s cleavage. “Did the Curse Removal Office send you to a meeting as their representative or what?”
“No, no. I left the job at the Ministry at the beginning of the summer. I now apprentice at Gringotts.”
Lily summons a bundle of candles and starts lighting them with her wand, then sends them up to hover above their heads. She enjoys creating atmosphere by combining wizard and Muggle ways: magic for lights, electricity for music.
Since there’s no response, she strides further in the room, closer to the window, and proceeds to sort out her record collection, and continues, merely glancing at the couple, “I got enough of the Ministry bureaucracy, even though I worked there for less than a year and only part-time – while doing some Oxford courses of Runes and Arithmancy. I resigned, concentrated on the courses, completed them, and applied for the Curse-Breaker apprenticeship.”
“Really? Do you think it was wise to leave the Ministry. You know, I’m just joining: I’ve got accepted for Auror training.”
“Yes, I heard. Congratulations!” She turns her head and gives him the smile evoked by one of her new favourite albums – which she puts aside, though, because they need music suitable for dancing, besides the Arabic music, of course. “It’s nice you can start together with Alice.”
“I convinced him it’s the best career. And he helped me prepare so we both passed the tests.” Alice pushes herself up from the bean bag. “But now let’s prepare some drinks and get less serious”
As she pulls Frank to the kitchen, Lily stays behind, steps to the window, wondering whether to close it and draw the curtains yet – and is startled by the arrival of an owl. In the sunset glow, with the bird on her shoulder, she reads: A bit late. Sorry. A.
“I hope you like pitta,” she’s saying to the owl when she steps to the doorway and sees Frank and Alice standing by the draining board, busy emptying various bottles into their largest glass bowl.
Frank eyes the label on her bottle of arak and says, without glancing up, “Don’t worry...”
“Don’t use all of that for the punch!” Lily hurries to say at the same time.
“All right. Don’t worry: I think he’s all right. I do prefer James and Remus to Peter, but I guessed you’d invite...”
Alice laughs. “She’s talking about the bread: pitta bread, not Peter!”
Lily has arrived next to them and is reaching to tear off a piece of one of the flat loaves. Having left the bread to cool, she’s now satisfied to notice that the two layers of baked dough can, indeed, be separated – that by heating the oven hot enough she’s achieved the proper interior pocket in her pitta.
“And she’s talking to an owl, not to you!” Alice adds, while Lily offers the piece of bread to the bird.
“Well, I hope you, too, like both my bread and my friends.”
When the owl has swallowed and, hooting her thanks, flies back towards the open window, Lily uses her wand to pile the loaves on a plate. And now she hears the doorbell rung in a rhythm which – with some goodwill – can be recognised as inspired by her old favourite Killer Queen.
“It must be those dear boys now. I’ll let them in. You just go on with the mixing and make enough for everyone.” Lily grabs the half-empty bottle of arak.
“Or maybe it’s Amelia,” Alice suggests.
“No. Oh, I forgot to say: the owl brought this from her.” Lily thrusts the note to Alice and strides out of the kitchen, levitating the plate of pitta in front of her.
“Look at this! She works too hard,” she hears Alice complain to Frank. “She’s got full-time apprenticeship at Law Enforcement, and several Oxford courses.”
New Queen-inspired variations – improvised on doorbell, knocks and whistles – make Lily smile. Now she’ll introduce her friends to some new rhythms. After placing the plate and the bottle on the keffiyeh, Lily still lets the boys wait. She takes her time – using no magic in selecting carefully one of the discs in the double album which was recommended to her as the best, then the song which made her fall in love with the amazing female voice. Sa’alak Habibi. Lowering the needle on the right track, she finally points her wand at the door so as to both open the Muggle lock and undo her and Alice’s sealing charm with two quick spells.
Her boys charge in. All four together, inseparable. And so boisterous that her domestic favourite, the new Pink Floyd would certainly suit better: Animals. But she can’t help loving them: the three Animagi and the Beast, as he calls himself, calling her the Beauty.
And when walking slowly around the keffiyeh and towards them under the hovering candles, without saying a word, she’s happy to notice them grow quiet, too. Perhaps they can even sense some of the magic in the music, and she’ll play just this side of the disc again and again while they’re eating, so they’ll start learning to know and appreciate it.
They’re now standing still near the door; only James steps forward to meet her. Just before he tilts his shaggy head, she catches a glimpse of Sirius nudging Remus with an elbow and Peter starting to clap. To the accompaniment of their applause and to Fairuz’s incredible singing, she delves into the pleasures of his lips, his tongue, his taste, his heartbeat... Ah, habibi – my beloved!
When she resurfaces from the deep kiss and looks up from James’s embrace, Frank is shaking hands with the other boys.
“Congratulations!” Remus is saying.
Sirius is clapping Frank on the back. “Welcome to our corps! It’s high time you quit sports and join James and me to fight for an important cause. I hope we’ll soon get called to the war.”
James swirls back towards them, wrapping his arm around Lily’s waist ever tighter. “You’re leaving Quidditch? No way!”
“I’ve played professionally for four years, ever since I left school. Now as they want to train more Aurors, I saw a good opportunity to get an education in this way, and get employed by the Ministry. There’s chances for a great career. You know, the ex-captain of my team...”
“You mean MacFarlan?” Peter cuts in. “Head of Magical Games and Sports? He’ll help you with your career?”
“Your team, yes! You can’t leave such a team. Keeper for the Montrose Magpies, the most successful team in the League!” James waves his other arm, as if he were ready to hit Frank, chase him around the flat if necessary – but doesn’t let go of Lily.
She gets the chance to silence him with a kiss. “My dear non-professional chaser! You must let people choose what they do.”
“Yes, on my second try, I got accepted, too.” Now Alice is receiving congratulations.
“And she deserves it. The Ministry finally made the right decision.” Turning towards her, Lily sees she’s brought the glass jug, two thirds full of water, and the ice cubes. “Alice, you are wonderful. Thank you! See, Alice takes care of the important things – once again some things I forgot.”
“That’s how she takes care of something as important as drinks?” Sirius snorts. “Ice water!”
“Don’t worry. That’s just for mixing the apéritifs I’ve planned for our Syrian meal. Alice has also remembered and guided his famous fiancé to the important task of preparing a punch.” Lily changes to stage whisper, rising on tiptoe to reach James’s ear. “And done my hair.”
“Your hair’s always beautiful.” James has managed to calm down and now stares at her adoringly. “Like the rest of you.”
“You won’t let me forget that – always flattering.” She detaches himself from James. “But I’ve forgotten to greet you: Peter, Remus, Sirius, so good to see you! Now come sit down, literally: down on the carpet in the Syrian way.”
She goes to take Remus’s hand as well as Sirius’s and guides them to sit next to each other on this side of the keffiyeh, facing the last light of sunset. “Frank, you could sit opposite to Sirius, and Alice next to you, of course. And Peter, you here.” She places Peter close to Frank's fiancée, perhaps out of spite, perhaps just because she feels Amelia belongs near Remus. “And James – not too close to the ex-keeper! I’ll stay between the two of you. You sit close to your brother!”
Now she should let the guests talk to each other, comment on her Syrian arrangements, if they’re interested. And they want drinks.
“These are whisky glasses, right?” Sirius is saying hopefully.
Lily’s started using her wand to place a few ice cubes in each of the glasses. But now she takes advantage of the question and introduces the bottle. “This is arak, West-Asian distilled spirit, made of grapes and aniseed.” She tilts the bottle. “Strong enough, so this will suffice for the apéritifs, though Frank and Alice have consumed the best part – for spiking the punch, I hope. Now look: a trick like Muggle magic!”
She pours the clear spirit into the jug of water, and is happy to see her guests admire the mixture turning translucent milky-white.
“Beautiful!” Remus breathes out in his most graceful voice. “Anise. I know it – in an ointment my mother makes. I’ve never tasted it, though.”
“Now, here you are!” Lily pours some of the mixture on the ice in one glass, lifts the glass in her hand to the level of her mouth, kisses the side of the glass, blows and uses her wand to levitate the drink to Remus.
“Ever more beautiful!” Receiving the glass, Remus bows to her. “Thank you.”
When proceeding to fill the other glasses, Lily glances at Remus again. With his impeccable manners he, of course, refrains from tasting the drink yet. Breathing in the fragrance, he closes his eyes for a moment, then smiles blissfully, and nods again as he notices her gaze.
She sends the next glass to Peter, explaining, “This is how Syrian witches and wizards serve drinks: like blowing kisses – some of them without wands.”
James keeps leaning closer to caress her, and to lick her earlobe. She serves his drink with a smack on his mouth.
“This kiss tastes like a healing potion,” Peter soon says.
Frank hurries to respond, “I like it.”
Sirius is trying to read the label. “Strange, but strong enough to start with.”
“Wait! A toast.” Lily looks around at the expectant faces and considers for a moment. “To new choices and changes, and old friends!”
Now again she feels like withdrawing from the conversation for a while. Instead of using her wand, she goes to the record player, and with her back turned to her friends, lifts the needle by hand so as to place it at the beginning of the first track. Since some of them still find this device fascinating and are probably watching her, she can’t resist explaining, “This record, too, is from Damascus, but the singer, Fairuz is actually Lebanese.”
James has, of course, tagged along, and now disturbs her, hugging and kissing her again while looking at the album cover. “She looks gorgeous – so much like you!”
“The song that was playing when you came in was for you: Habibi. It means ‘my love’.” She moves the needle to the same song, after all. “Here it is. I was told it says something like: ‘Tell me: who are we? Why are we looking around scared? Where are we going? We’re moving away...’”
He frowns, perhaps actually listening to her words. But when the singing starts, she hushes and turns their embrace into a slow dance.
“The doorbell!” She hasn’t heard it at all, just Alice’s exclamation. “I’ll open.”
She’s forgotten herself. She was supposed to set the music for their meal, to let her guests start, and to entertain them all. And now Remus is the one who’s stood up and gone to meet Amelia at the door after Alice has only used her wand to open it.
“Sorry, James, let’s get back to this later.” Lily detaches herself, lifts the needle once more and places it at the first track, then hurries to hug Amelia, whom Remus has guided by hand to the place between himself and Peter.
“Amelia dear, so good to see you. Lovely that you could make it so soon, after all. Thanks for the owl. We’ve waited for you, just started with the first drinks.” She summons the last filled glass from the other side of the keffiyeh for Amelia.
Looking a bit tired but already relaxed, Amelia smiles pleasantly. “Your party looks and smells and sounds wonderful. Fascinating music: a great voice. Who is she?”
“Her name’s Fairuz. They call her The Moon’s Neighbour.” This name gives Lily an idea and she continues with new enthusiasm while returning to her place. “Now, at least some of you must be ravenous. Let’s start with these salads.”
Alice draws her wand out again. “We’ve forgotten the plates.”
“No, we won’t need any. Just pieces of pitta. This bread I mean. I’ve baked it in the Syrian way. I’ll show how to use it. Like this, scoop food straight from the big, shared bowls and put it all in your mouth with the pitta.” She’s scooped a generous load of tabbouleh and feeds it to James. “Or preferably your neighbour’s mouth.”
“You’re fooling us.” Sirius frowns. “Or is this really the Syrian way?”
“Yes.” She laughs, and levitates a loaf of pitta to each of his friends. “I’m fooling you. But just with the neighbour part.”
Alice is already feeding a mutabbai-filled piece of pitta to Frank. “This can be our way in any case.”
Peter looks hesitant, or perhaps just curious. “What is that?”
“That’s aubergine – eggplant. The dish is called mutabbai.”
To Lily’s delight Remus has just accepted a mouthful from Amelia, who now proceeds to offer another to Peter. Having watched Sirius and Remus, for their last couple of years at Hogwarts, filling each other’s plates, Lily trusts that this idea of hers will make Remus eat enough now despite his manners and pride and the lack of plates. She can’t shake off the suspicion that he’s famished once again: he looks thinner than before her trip.
Now they’re all tearing pieces of pitta, trying their best to scoop tabbouleh or mutabbai and get it all in their own or someone else’s mouth before dropping too much. When taking part in the shared fun, not even Sirius is shy to feed Remus in this intimate way, which could otherwise make him worry that they resemble a couple too clearly. She must believe there will be others to look after the most vulnerable one of her friends when she’s away.
“Yes, let it be our way: taking care of each other!” she says, perhaps too solemnly. “And having fun. Not making a mess on purpose! But don’t worry if it’s a bit messy first. There’s a protection spell over the keffiyeh – I mean this Syrian, or actually Palestinian scarf.”
“You keep talking about all things Syrian.” Sirius sounds a bit irritated. “Now pour me some more of that Syrian spirit!”
Having just grabbed the jug, Lily hears something that makes her exasperated. As if she were being pestered, two voices sound in her ears simultaneously.
Alice whines, reaching across Peter for Amelia’s hand, “You mustn’t work so hard; drop at least one of your courses, or work half-time!” and James, his hand on Lily’s shoulder, seeking contact with Frank from behind her head, almost shouts, “Really, listen to me! You’re too young to end your Quidditch career!”
“Stop that now!” Lily pokes James with her wand. “Please! And Alice,you, too. You must let people choose...”
When emptying the jug into Sirius’s glass, she realises that everyone’s fallen silent. “Here you are. There’s beer, too. Syrian, for sure. They’ve got two local brands. The Barada brewery in Damascus was founded only this year. You can all summon your bottles from our fridge. Accio, Barada beer!”
She’s kept talking so as to cover her annoyance and fill the silence. But after a bottle has flown to her hand, she gets the urge to escape again.
Thrusting the beer to James, she stands up. “Excuse me. I’d better go and bring the main course in more cautiously.”
Alone in the kitchen, she calms down when taking the baking tray out of the oven, breathing in the spicy steam. The kubbeh is beautiful, golden brown, and it’s stayed hot enough since she returned it to the oven after baking the pitta. The fridge door opens and closes a few times, and some beer bottles swirl past her when she walks back slowly, levitating the tray just before her, almost touching it with her wand tip.
“Make space for the tray,” she asks, and she can hardly tone down the pride and excitement when adding, “This is baked kubbeh: minced lamb and bulgur wheat – cracked wheat – and spices, of course: cinnamon, cardamom, cumin, coriander...”
Everyone tucks in eagerly – some pretending to be suspicious, offering the first kubbeh-loaded pitta piece to their neighbour for taste-testing.
While thrusting a piece towards Remus’s mouth casually, without checking his aim, Sirius turns to Lily with a teasing smile. “When you were in the kitchen, Frank and James had a proper fight – with wands.”
“What!”
James pats Lily on her beehive. “Don’t worry! Frank won. That’s great. We’re founding Aurors’ Quidditch team – the best amateur team in Britain!”
She rewards him with a kiss on the nose and a sincere smile of relief and happiness. She loves his quickness in seeing the good side in everything, his way of supporting her firm trust that things will turn out all right and better.
Now one half of the company is talking about Quidditch, the other half about Oxford courses. Even Peter shows interest in Amelia’s studies: between gulps of beer and mouthfuls of food, the latter mainly offered to Amelia, he’s asking for tips to help him pass a course.
Remus looks around at Lily, licking his lips and smiling. “Sorry: we haven’t asked you about your trip. I’m sure you’ve got loads to tell us.”
“Yes, in three weeks you must have learnt more about Syrian breweries.” Sirius summons his second beer with a soundless Accio.
Alice stuffs Frank’s mouth and manages to stop the Quidditch talk. “Please, Lily, tell us now! You haven’t had time to tell even me much about the trip. What did you do? Besides buying groceries and collecting recipies!”
Lily’s used her wand to move the needle back to the beginning of the record. “Oh, my duties in Syria were not so exciting.” Not yet. “It was just rather tedious negotiations between the Gringotts delegation and Syrian Wizarding Bank.”
“Why would they take a new apprentice in the delegation?” Peter asks.
“They wanted to test me – my patience, for instance. And train me in the initial phase of acquiring a trove. Maybe also...” She’d rather not admit even to herself the suspicion that her goblin boss believed the presence of a charming young lady would seduce the Syrian negotiators to an outcome more favourable for Gringotts. “It gave a good impression that not only our senior Curse-Breaker but also the youngest, the apprentice could demonstrate excellent skill with wand. You know, the local bank often agrees to surrender to Gringotts about half of a treasure when it’s protected with strong curses. Because the locals lack the curse-breaking skills, or because they are more vulnerable to the effects of a domestic curse.”
At least Amelia looks like she’s listened carefully. “And you reached an agreement?”
“Yes, after numerous business lunches and dinners.” Lily grins.
Peter’s curious, too. “And the trove?”
“It’s in Palmyra, an ancient oasis city.” Now she can’t quite hide her excitement. “We got the right to cross the desert at the beginning of September.”
James has held his hand on Lily’s shoulder, and now he squeezes it hard. “In a week from now.”
“Yes. It’s so exciting.” Lily lifts her hand to stroke James’s, to make it relax its hold, but she looks around only at the others while launching into the story which still enchants her. “Some Muggle experts from Poland have just discovered this huge statue: in pieces, reused for the foundation of the temple. It’s the temple of Al-Lat. Al-Lat is an ancient Arabian goddess of war and peace. In later statues she looks like Athena or Minerva. But this statue is a giant relief of a lion sheltering a gazelle. A lion! As a Gryffindor I’m so proud to start my career at this excavation. We’ll need some weeks to remove or counter the curses which hide the treasure. There are layers of treasure because it’s come under the protection of Al-Lat’s Lion in different eras...”
“In a week?” James’s tensed voice interrupts her. “Do you mean you’re going to Syria again in a week?”
In a couple of days, rather. She doesn’t want to put it like that, and now she must look at him, but she finds him looking away, just breathing hard. She says, “We must be in Damascus a couple of days before crossing to Palmyra.”
He turns to her, but to her relief, he’s not shouting. “I thought you’ll do this apprenticeship in Diagon Alley.”
“You thought… You know this is why I left the Ministry Curse Removal Office. For the real Curse-Breaker career. This is what I’ve planned and worked for ever since I chose my NEWT courses. This is the opportunity I...”
“We know,” Sirius cuts in, nudging James. “Congratulations!” He raises his beer bottle. “To Al-Lat’s Lion!”
“To the lion a la Lily!” Alice laughs.
Lily watches them join in the toast, all merry, just James still a bit gloomy, and Remus peculiarly wistful.
“Thank you! And please take more kubbah! We must finish it.” She levitates more pitta first to Sirius, Remus and Amelia. “Sirius, tell me: has your brother and flatmate practised cooking?”
Sirius, with his mouth already full, only shakes his head.
“Fortunately I haven’t promised not to marry him before he learns.” Lily scoops some kubbah for James and fills his mouth – first briefly with her tongue. “Now this is my opportunity to see and learn more. This is the time for travelling. But there will be periods of office work in London, too. And later I’ll do more of that. There will come a time for me to settle.”
“All right.” James looks reconciled enough. “But could we have some British music for a change?”
Lily shouldn’t feel disappointed. She knew James wouldn’t learn to really love something so foreign immediately.
Sirius jumps up, volunteering, “Let me take care of it! I’ve used that thing before.”
He and James go together to the record player. Trying not to worry about her records, Lily turns towards Remus, shifts a bit closer and offers him a kubbah-filled piece of pitta. He accepts it but declines with a polite gesture of his hand when she points at the bowls and the tray, asking what he’d like next.
“Your Syrian cuisine is excellent. But I’ve already had too much. So much...” and it seems to slip out, “more than I’m used to eating.”
Perhaps he’s had enough to drink too, so that he’s not careful to hide his neediness. That’s a sobering thought. Perhaps she should worry.
“How are you?” she asks gravely. “How have you been doing?”
“Thank you, I’m fine.”
She stares at him, raises her eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Well, I returned from the Cotswolds a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps I should have still stayed at my parents’. There aren’t courses at Oxford for me yet. And the scholarship resumes only after September.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell your parents you need money for the rent.”
He shakes his head with a small lopsided grin. “I’m not telling about such a thing to you or anyone else.”
Perhaps the need to conceal – and to reveal – his lycanthropy has trained him in this evasive but confidential way of talking about his situation. It’s obvious that the scholarship Dumbledore arranged for Dark Creature studies is far from sufficient. And he’s got no choice. No chance for paid apprenticeship, hardly even for occasional menial work.
“Did you get to rent the same room you had for the first year?”
He nods.
To him independence is more important than to anyone else. He wouldn’t agree, at least not suggest that he share a flat with one of them. Just because he can hardly afford his crumby room, let alone half of the rent of a proper flat – and couldn’t possibly match them in daily expenditure.
“Your lovely landlady… Now that half of my colleagues are goblins, too, I wouldn’t mind going to see her. You know, I’d like to do that on your behalf. Also because Frank’s taking my share of this flat while I’m away the whole month.”
“Lily, you are incredible,” is his sincere thanks.
She must trust he’ll now dare spend his scant money on eating enough.
At this moment she hears the first of the chords she’s just learnt on her guitar. She places a finger on her lips, and keeping the eye contact, makes sure that Remus, too, listens to the opening lyrics of the amazing album: If you didn't care/ What happened to me/ And I didn't care/ For you…
Sirius is not listening. “We’ll get one of these. I can pay for the electricity.”
But he’s interested in the album, too. Leaning against the windowsill next to James, he’s examining the album cover. He must have chosen it because of the title, and now he exclaims, “Listen to this! The second song is called Dogs.”
“He likes dogs,” James explains casually to everyone.
Remus empties his bottle and bends to say in Lily’s ear, not quite whispering, “I love a dog.”
“I love my Animals,” she replies. “This is my new favourite, besides Fairuz.”
“Time to get ever less serious,” Alice says, clambering to her feet. “Time for the punch.”
She helps Lily return the bowls, the tray and the plate to the kitchen, and takes the punch bowl to the sitting room while Lily stays to pack the leftovers and to shrink the packages with a charm, so that she’ll be able to sneak them to Remus, for him to take home. Lily’s just placing the tiny packages in the fridge when James wraps her in his arms from behind.
She wriggles around to face him, pushing the fridge closed behind her. Hardly needing to register any question or demand of his, she lifts her hands to his cheeks and attacks him with a ferocious kiss.
“Seal the door!” she says breathlessly.
When he pulls out his wand, she moves away, backs towards the small kitchen table, pushes with her hands to get to sit on the table, lifts her hem to the waist. He approaches her, grinning, then bends to lick her bellybutton, soon moves his tongue between her thighs. She lies on her back, lifts her hips to help him pull her knickers out of his way.
Sweet, lush, so sweet. Now his tongue’s rubbing her right there as he’s learnt so well by now. So sweet – the touch she’s missed!
He’s missed it so much that he can barely resist rushing, but it’s all good. They’ll have a couple of days for slowly winding paths to evolving ways of loving each other’s skin and the moist, most sensitive treasures – for finding new pleasures to cherish and miss when miles and miles away.
She grabs his mop with one hand and pulls his head closer to hers, supporting herself on one elbow, reaches to kiss his mouth. As she tastes her own arousal, she allows him to move right in, deep, to fill her up, and she holds him tight, then guides him to a rhythm. He quickens it, rushes, finishes too soon with a shudder. But it’s all right.
“Love you,” they say to each other’s mouths, and she adds, “Later tonight again – with less hurry!”
When, having quickly made themselves look decent, they exit the kitchen hand in hand, the warm glow in Lily’s mind spreads with sparkles of joy. Her tenderness covers all these lovely people together.
The keffiyeh is fluttering just under the candles. Alice is levitating it towards the window.
Peter’s trying to push himself to sit up in the bean bag chair, and spills some punch from his glass. He’s shouting to Frank some questions about the Head of Magical Sports over the sound of Pink Floyd’s Sheep: Lo, we shall rise up.
Amelia’s in the corner by the punch bowl, pointing her wand at her glass, explaining to suspicious Alice, “This Vanishing Spell makes only the hangover disappear, not the alcohol. But don’t worry, I won’t use it on the whole bowlful if you don’t want.”
The keffiyeh now hovers vertically in front of the windowpane. And against it Sirius’s head leans closer to Remus’s. Just as Roger Waters plays those first chords again, now for the closing, Remus stops Sirius’s hand from lifting the glass, whispers to his ear, perhaps asking him to listen.
For that minute and a half Lily rests her head on James’s shoulder. Having patted his chest, she walks over to find her guitar near the records – and a pick in her pocket, where she’s placed it, hoping for a suitable moment to perform what she learnt just before the trip.
“I’m going to play only one song, and then we can have music for dancing,” she announces, leaning against the windowsill, right beside Remus. “It’s the song you just heard. Just in case there’s someone who didn’t listen closely. This is dedicated to you, particularly to some of the dear animals present.”
She starts strumming, first looks at the fretting fingers, then up at Remus, catching his eye, and nods to him when beginning to sing, “If you didn't care...”
Warmth spreads through her anew when she hears Remus’s voice join hers, at first a bit unsure and only in some lines, those he’s already memorised, “And I didn’t care/ For you … Through the boredom and pain … Wondering which of the buggers to blame.”
The whole of the second part they sing in duet, “You know that I care/ What happens to you/ And I know that you care/ For me, too/ So I don't feel alone/ Or the weight of the stone/ Now that I've found somewhere safe to bury my bone/ And any fool knows a dog needs a home/ A shelter/ From pigs on the wing.”
As she feels the warmth turn into a blush, Lily sees it mirrored in Remus’s face, now ruddy and beaming, when all the others applaud. Even Peter, who also whistles, and struggles and rises from his chair. Sirius claps Remus on the shoulder, and covertly leaves the hand to rub his back.
But almost at once Sirius moves restlessly, grabs an album. “There’s You Make Me Feel Like Dancing on this one. Sounds right!”
That’s not the best… Lily wants to protest but keeps quiet. Perhaps Petunia’s gift is the right choice, after all. After Sirius has set A-side of the record to start from the beginning, Lily pulls both him and Remus to the middle of the floor, where Alice welcomes them with open arms, an open smile. Peter empties another glass of punch and joins them, and Amelia follows, pushing Frank and James in front of her.
Shaking her body to the simple rhythm of the music, Lily smiles to them all, swirls around to see each face. She lifts her face up, and the candles swirl above her. Now her friends have moved to form a circle. Alice has taken Amelia’s hand, makes her swing and swirl. The two sportsmen seem lazy to lift their feet, resort to just shaking themselves and flailing their arms. Oh, James, so tensed still, fears he’ll miss a beat, but doesn’t want to show it. She catches his eye, nods her approval, and at once he’s full of confidence. Like that so lush, so sweet and firm.
Losing herself to the music, she closes her eyes. Someone’s singing along, Peter this time. Now she must see this. Remus is swirling and jumping, and so is Peter; they’re copying each other’s moves, grinning, and Sirius is grinning, clapping to the beat. Through the sadder lyrics of the third song they’re dancing wilder and wilder.
And suddenly it’s the start of the ballad. Remus and Peter have stopped to catch their breaths, laughing. Alice is already leaning on Frank, her cheek on his broad chest.
Lily could as well simply lean back and trust that James is there to hold her. Yes. His arms circle her waist. She turns and lifts her hands to his neck. “This one’s for you, too.”
In a slow kiss she guides his whole body, too, to find the lead of the music. Pressing against him, she sighs out her happiness.
And looks out over his shoulder to see Peter put away a glass and march from the punch bowl straight to Amelia, bow her to dance.
There they are, her dear canines, too. Sirius has escaped behind the punch bowl, taken out his pack of fags, Remus moved towards the window. The two of them are only staring at each other, although no one else is looking.
Now it’s time for her to sing along, in James’s ear, “But you know I won't be travelling a lifetime...”
It’s all right. They need each other, but they’ve got lifetimes to find their ways and homes in love.
Notes: Sa’altak Habibi is sung by Fairuz on double album Mais El Rim, released in 1972. Pigs on the Wing (Parts 1 and 2), as well as Dogs and Sheep are tracks of Pink Floyd’s concept album Animals, released in January 1977. You Make Me Feel Like Dancing and When I Need You (number one hit in UK in February 1977) are tracks two and four of Leo Sayer’s 1976 album Endless Flight.
