Lacerta Black -- James Potter --

38

"Lacey-"

"No."

"Lacerta-"

"Nope."

"Oh, sister dearest-"

"Absolutely not."

"Lacerta Walburga Black!

"What the hell do you want Sirius!" Exploded at the boy, watching his face turn into something similar to a kicked puppy. The boy's birthday had come and gone as if it were any other day since the Marauders had fallen apart. Lacerta had been desperately trying to avoid any and all of the Gryffindors that had approached her in the past week, finding comfort in Tonya (when she wasn't with Lily) and her newest companions, Pandora and Dorcas. The fellow Slytherins mourned the loss of their new friend, who wasn't dead, just a prat. Otherwise, she spent her time with her beloved James - who was clingier than every and left more than a few marks on her neck to show it.

He only had a few more days left in isolation, but this didn't stop the rest of the Marauders from following her around with pleading faces and pouts that made her cold exterior crack slightly. Sirius was the most persistent. "I just want to apologize! Please! He's my best friend."

"Really? You have a funny way of showing how much you care about him," she rolled her eyes as she stalked away. Her next class was defense against the dark arts, where they reviewing earlier materials because their professor wanted them to be ready when they entered the war upon graduation. Of course, Gryffindors and Slytherins were in the same class so her brother continued on following her.

"Just because you're his girlfriend doesn't mean that you get to control who sees him or not," he said with a hint of venom, not nearly as much as his usual amount, laced his tone. 

"I'm not controlling him," she argued with a slight crack in her voice, because how could he say that if he truly cared about her. In the slightest way, he had compared her to Selwyn and the mere thought of being anything like him made tiny spiders crawl up her skin. A chill ran down her spine as the food she had managed to eat that day threatened to come up. "Madam Pomfrey said-"

"Bollocks what that old witch said," Sirius huffed. "I've known him the longest. He's my best mate. You were always just my tag-along sister that happened to be pretty enough to catch his attention."

Like always, Sirius used his words like a weapon. One that could leave a mark that lasted longer than the scars left by their parents. He's does it with everyone that he loves. Remus. Regulus. James. Lacerta was not an exception. Like her parents taught her, she let him say it while she bit her tongue and walked to class without saying another word.

She took her place as far away from everyone that she could without being too near Snape or anyone else that he associated with. A chest rattled in the center of the floor and her heart dropped. She knew. Even before everyone caught on to that unfamiliar clank of the luggage against the floor she knew. A boggart. 

Her eyes met Remus's because he was top of the class and caught on just as fast. He paled and she knew that if he went in front of the class they would know his 'little' secret. Even if she was upset with them, she still cared more than they could ever know. Lacerta would always look after her brothers and Remus was her brother just as much as Sirius or Regulus. 

She was one of the few people who stepped up to volunteer, the more volunteers the more people, the less time they had in class to force unwilling students to participate. The rest of the Gryffindors stepped forth and only a few Slytherins stood by her side. 

"Wonderful!" The professor cheered as they formed a line. Somehow, she ended up being the first in line, waiting as the old man slowly unlatched the hinges to realize the creature. The lid sprang open to reveal five figures staring her down. 

Sirius was the first one she saw. He was ragged in an Azkaban jumpsuit with his skintight around his skull and a manic expression on his face. Then there was James. He wasn't the lively James she knew and loved. His eyes were glassed over, and his skin was pale, the smell of death surrounding him. Regulus was glaring at her fiercely with the mark proudly on display and she could practically hear the killing curse playing on his lips. Remus stood with his chest covered in nasty gashes, gasping for air. 

Her own reflection stood in the middle. Skinnier than she had ever been, but not far off from the weight Selwyn had put her at and she looked lost/hopeless. The wedding ring on her finger was encrusted with the Selwyn motto.

Lacerta always knew that her worst fear was not being able to save everyone, but seeing it outright was like a punch to the stomach. She wouldn't be able to save Sirius from his reckless, impulsive behavior. There would be a time when she wouldn't be able to stop James from running headfirst into trouble. Remus will one day succumb to his illness, age being too big of a match from the bloodthirsty wolf. And she had already failed Regulus. 

"Ridiculous," she said firmly, without a hint of emotion in her voice as they turned into the smiling gang of young adults that they should be. Although, Sirius was Padfoot, chasing James around and trying to nip as Remus's ankles lovingly. 

Remus reached out for her as she walked back to her spot, but she shoved past him. Sirius went next. It was himself in their father's robes with his hair slicked back. The reflection pulled at his left sleeve, and he quickly turned his boggart into himself, but with a bright pink tutu that matched the bow in its hair. 

There was a lot of death, it seemed to be a common factor among the boggarts. Peters was Voldemort standing in front of him with a wicked grin that alerted him that he knew all of their secrets. Snape's made him blush uncharacteristically as her own dying figure begged him for mercy. He turned it into a Lacerta with a large, frilly ballgown that twirled until she fell.

He looked at her with his dusted cheeks and she quickly glared down at her bag as Sirius laughed - whether it was the way the boggart her looked in bright orange or at Snape's embarrassment she didn't know. Not a lot of people were laughing when they left the class. So much death.

Lacerta just needed to see James's face, full of life and not that far off look that death gave him. He was lounging on the sofa when she entered. His glasses were lopsided as he was deeply invested in the book he was reading, but there it was. The spark that made up James Potter. It was practically gold that made his hazel shine brighter. He couldn't even say hello before she she jumps onto him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. 

He was alive. They were together. That was enough.