OrpheusChapter 11By Pigwidgeon3714 February 1978
So. The first year at University is over. I passed with flying colours, but that isn’t what I want to write about. And neither about my love life—ha, ha, ha. As if I had one. And if I decide the way I think I will, then I probably won’t have one in the near future. I have to write this down. I need to see it black on white, maybe things will be clearer then, although I doubt it. I met Dumbledore today. He just turned up when I was leaving the campus and asked me if I’d join him for a drink. Drink, indeed. OK, so we talked for a while about the usual things, how everything is at Hogwarts, and how my studies are going etc.etc. Small talk. I was already wondering what this was all about (I mean, Dumbledore wouldn’t Apparate all the way to Urqhart only to have a Campari Soda with me (lovely Muggle drink, Campari, a bit strange and new, but good. Dumbledore put too little soda into it, though. Brrr.) Too many parentheses. Says it all, really.) After the small talk, D. told me that Voldemort was becoming more powerful and dangerous by the day (as if I didn’t know, I read the newspapers, I don’t live under a rock) and that the Ministry is being its usual inefficient self. That’s when I began to feel a bit worried, I saw where this conversation was going. I was right of course. He told me that he was organizing a resistance movement and did I want to join. Just like that. I must have looked quite stupid, mouth open and all. I was so totally flummoxed. Up till now, I’d never given the possibility any thought. I mean, I’m against Voldemort (big surprise, as the bastard hates all Muggle-borns) and I’m bloody afraid of him and his Death Eaters. But I’d never considered actually participating, actively participating that is, in fighting him. At least not yet. I wanted to finish my studies, and then maybe a stint to a Muggle university, and then… Well, it was stupid. Or, let’s face it, it was cowardly. I just wanted to let the others fight the battle and live my little life in peace. But. Oh god, there’s so many but’s. I’m afraid. I’ve heard what those Death Eaters do to the people they capture. I don’t want to be tortured or raped or killed. I’m living alone, I don’t know if I’ll be able to go through all this alone. What about my parents? What about the rest of the family? D. said the Order of the Phoenix is totally, completely secret, and nobody is ever going to find out I’m a member. I just can’t believe it. What if they get me and ask me about the others? I know I could never resist torture, I’m afraid of pain. Oh, god. What should I do? I tried to convince D. that I’m too young, too
inexperienced. He didn’t buy it, of course. He’s known me for so many years,
he knows exactly what I can and can’t do. Blast him! He has that way of
looking at you, so you really don’t want to disappoint him. It’s just so
difficult. And I can’t talk about this with anybody.
Our relationship has grown since the day Dorcas Meadowes was killed. I’d never have expected James to come after me, I simply didn’t think he was the type. But he stayed with me when I needed him most. I don’t know what’s going to happen with this relationship. We haven’t done anything but kissing so far, but I guess that Christmas at his parents’ house has to mean something. They are nice, really. A nice, friendly family. Not the kind that jumps on you because their only son has finally found a ‘suitable girl’. The question is: am I suitable? Do I want to be suitable? Why am I
‘together’ with James? Apart from Sirius (definitely NO) and Remus (n-no,
because I just can’t get over the fact that he’s a werewolf, otherwise who
knows) and Peter (vomit) we’re the youngest Order members. The rest are at
least 20 years my seniors. I don’t go out much, I go to uni only when I
absolutely have to, so I don’t have many chances to meet anybody. Plus, I
might be dead tomorrow. I want to live before I die, I want to know what sex
is like before I die. But sex with James? I suppose it will have to be sex
with James, unless I want to throw myself at Alastor or Kingsley. But I
can’t get rid of the feeling that I’m using him. And he me. 11 March 1979 12 March 1979 I’m going to marry James. All around us the world is going to pieces
(well, our world) and I’m going to marry James. I wouldn’t have to—I already
know what sex is like (no comment) and I have a life. Well, kind of. As much
of a life as I’m likely to get until this madness comes to an end. I
wouldn’t have to marry him. Crazy, just crazy, that wizards should be so
Victorian. You can’t very well live together unless you’re married.
Unbelievable, really. People die by the dozen, and those who survive still
care about proprieties. But I don’t want to live alone anymore. I need
somebody to hold on to, and James is ready to be that someone. How utterly
romantic. I’d never have thought that one day I would turn into such a
pragmatist. I need somebody—somebody is there—I marry him. Just because I
can’t stand this loneliness anymore. I’m disgusted with myself, because I
don’t have the courage to take it back, although I know perfectly well that
I’m doing it for the wrong reasons.
I don’t want to move to that house, and I don’t understand how he can even consider it! I mean HE SAW THEM!!! He saw them lying there on the floor, his parents, there on the floor, and their faces were grimaces of pain, and everything was broken and burned and ruined. And now he wants to live at Godric’s Hollow. I hate him, I really do! I don’t have any money of my own, and so I don’t have another choice, I have to go and live in this house that’s giving me nightmares. At least the research is going well. But it seems that Voldemort’s side
is making some progress too. I’m afraid again, more than ever before.
I have to tell James.
I think we might finally be on to something. The material James has
brought back from Turkey seems very promising.
The scene was pathetic, really. Snape almost in tears, practically imploring James to see reason and leave the country. James at his worst. Worse than I’ve seen him in a long time, maybe worse than ever. He failed to see Snape’s genuine concern (at least I think it was genuine, though certainly not for us). And he treated him like dirt. More or less told him to leave him in peace, and didn’t Snape see that he was more than capable of defending his house and family all by himself. I still can’t believe it. I mean, Snape obviously doesn’t know why Voldemort is so interested in us, but we know. God only knows how that bastard found out what we’re researching. Probably his minions consulted some of the books we’ve read and found the initials. I told James not to sign with our initials. Sometimes he’s so nonchalant it borders on stupid. Anyway, Voldemort knows, or at least he has an inkling, and he’s of course very interested in our results. Snape suggested, very reasonably, that we leave the country. James wouldn’t have any of it, as was to be expected. We are to stay here, because we aren’t ‘vile deserters’ or some such nonsense. Sweet Jesus! I’m a Gryffindor as well, but there are limits to Gryffindor foolhardiness. Maybe I’ll be able to convince him. Snape says that we’re more or less safe for the time being, because V. wants to give us time. He’s no fool, he knows exactly that we won’t have the Draught ready next week. So he probably intends to let us do the dirty work for him, and once we’re near a result, kidnap us or kill us. I must have changed indeed. I can write these sentences down without feeling more than concern. But the great fear is gone. I suppose you can’t keep up that level of fear, not without going mad. The baby is kicking madly. Stomping on my bladder, the obnoxious little
brat. He’s two weeks old now, and already I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Strange, I really couldn’t explain how and when and why I fell in love with my little boy. The last weeks of pregnancy were horrible, the heat, the swollen hands and feet, James’ bad mood. He doesn’t like to give in, even when he’s wrong. But I’m so glad he did. Although I still wish he had chosen Sirius. In spite of all his flaws, I would have trusted him more than Peter. Maybe, no probably, I’m just angry that Peter is now the only one who can come to our house. Sirius was pretty sad, I could see it in his face, when he had to say goodbye after the namesgiving. He’s Harry’s godfather and won’t be able to see him until all this is over. Well, at least not here at Godric’s Hollow. But I doubt whether I’ll be able to remain here forever, I’ll have to go out from time to time, otherwise I’ll go crazy in less than no time. I’m very good at glamours (and not the ones everybody can see through, the real ones that look like the real thing) and so I promised Sirius that we’ll come to visit from time to time, Harry and I. I can simply Apparate to some safe place hidden in the woods, apply the glamour, and then Apparate to Sirius’s place. Or Remus’s. This will have to wait for a while, though, as I’m still very tired. And I have to get used to this new life where I can’t plan anything in advance. Funny enough, I don’t mind. I really, really don’t mind, because I love this child so much I’d do anything for him. To watch him open his eyes, to take him into my arms when he’s screaming and feel him relax immediately because it’s me, because he recognizes me—I could cry every time it happens, because it makes me so happy. He’s my baby (now I finally understand what ‘flesh of my flesh’ really means), not ‘my’ in the sense of ‘I possess him’, of course. There’s just this bond between us. James is jealous, of course, although he does his best not to show it.
But, I have to grant him this, he’s jealous in a rather nice way, because
he’s trying to endear himself to the two of us. Feeding every four hours. He’s found his rhythm. James gone to Isfahan, so I’m alone with my little man.
I went to see Sirius today. I’d written to him more than a week ago, announcing our visit. (This is really awkward, by the way! With the Fidelius Charm, we can send owls but not receive answers. I’m not a stickler for formality, but having to announce my visits instead of asking and receiving an answer is very embarrassing.) Sirius didn't mind, of course, and Remus was there too, and we had such a wonderful time. They played with Harry, who greatly enjoyed the attention. And I was so happy to see and speak to other people, even though Remus is still a Very Stupid Boy. We didn't mention the war, or the research, or death, not even once. It was extremely relaxing. Of course I’d left James a note, telling him where I’d gone. When I was already preparing to leave, he suddenly Apparated right into Sirius’s living room (Remus was already gone) and made a big scene. Unfortunately, first I thought he was joking. He went on about ‘his wife and his best friend’, and about ‘betrayed confidence’, and ‘honour’, and I, thinking he was doing a parody of a jealous husband, laughed and laughed. It was hilarious, really. Only he wasn’t joking. I think he wanted to hit me, but instead he hit Sirius. When I reminded him that I’d actually left a note to inform him whom I was visiting, he merely told me to come home with him immediately. There was nothing else I could do—Harry had started screaming, he was scared by the loud voices, and where else should I have gone? So I went with him. Once at home, he told me a long, twisted story about a crush Sirius apparently used to have on me (I hadn’t even realized), and how I mustn’t encourage him etcetera. I told him that if he was really stupid enough to believe such a thing, he was more of an idiot than I had thought, and that was saying something. That was when he broke down. Cried like a child, for a long time, then told me that today he had committed his first murder. I was speechless, of course. So I encouraged him to tell me what had happened, and it turned out that he’d been sent to monitor a house (suspected Death Eater meeting place) together with Kingsley and Alastor. It was, indeed, a Death Eaters’ nest, they somehow became aware that they were being spied upon and attacked. There was a lot of them, and the three managed to take out five of them before Disapparating. Kingsley and Alastor are Aurors and therefore used to killing in self-defence, but James was totally shocked. Now follows a fine example of male logic: he thought that he wasn't worthy of me anymore, because he’s a killer (I understand the shock, but this reasoning is really beyond me), came home, found the note and, because he felt so unworthy of me, was convinced that I was cheating on him with Sirius. Which didn’t prevent him from making a scene. I put him to bed and gave him a sleeping draught. Now I’m sitting here, in Harry’s room, watching my little boy sleep. I got together with James and married him because I needed somebody, not
necessarily stronger than I am, but an equal. It turns out that he’s not.
I’m feeling as if I had two children now, and the fact that one of them is
21 doesn't make me feel better. Mum always said that women are stronger than
men. I only wish it weren’t true. I can’t deal with this, I really can’t.
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