Obliviate

Chapter 12

Snow had begun to cling stubbornly to the grounds, muffling the castle in white. Students huddled deeper into the warmth of the hearth fires, the air thick with the crackle of woodsmoke and the faint sweetness of spiced cider from the kitchens.

For Lily, the days blurred together in a whirl of parchment and ink, so much so that she once nearly answered a question about Arcturus's constellation with an explanation about blue pea flower's antispasmodic properties. Kara had laughed so hard that Madam Price threatened to ban them both from the library.

"Ravenclaws, the lot of us," Kara snickered as they packed away their books one evening. 

The week before Christmas, Transfiguration offered one of its more humiliating moments. Professor Chang asked them to turn a quill into a quaffle. Lily's attempt managed half of it: a quill sprouted red leather, puffed up, and began bouncing gleefully across the desks while still shedding feathers everywhere.

"Potter!" Chang called sharply as the feathery quaffle smacked into a suit of armor with a clank.

"Sorry, Professor!" Lily darted after it, nearly tripping over her own robes while the rest of the class dissolved into laughter. Kara clutched her stomach, tears streaming down her face.

Later that evening, the lightness lingered between them as they walked back toward the tower. Albus and Scorpius fell into step with them, holding a steaming paper bag from the kitchens.

"Pumpkin fritters?" he offered, eyes darting between Lily and Scorpius with poorly hidden curiosity.

Scorpius smirked, snatching one. "Glad to see you're not interrogating us tonight."

Albus shrugged, though there was a trace of warmth in his grin. "Don't tempt me."

It was strange, Lily thought, how natural this was becoming again, the three of them together, like before but with an undercurrent of something she couldn't quite name.

That night, the Room of Requirement breathed its golden glow around them. The Tree loomed tall, its branches swaying faintly as if stirred by a wind only it could feel.

Scorpius sprawled near the trunk with his notes open, but Lily wasn't reading hers. She watched him, noticing how often his eyes drifted toward the window as though he were listening for something beyond the walls.

"Why do you do that?" she asked finally.

He blinked. "Do what?"

"Look out the window all the time. Like my dad when he's waiting for an owl."

Scorpius's expression flickered, something she couldn't quite catch, before he shrugged. "Habit, I suppose." But the answer felt unfinished, and Lily felt that same twist of unease in her stomach.

The air shifted. The Tree rustled faintly, its leaves shimmering silver, and then the ground seemed to tilt under Lily's feet.

Mist bled into the Room, thick and sudden. She staggered back, clutching the nearest desk, but the air wasn't the Room's anymore it was hot, close, and filled with the stench of smoke.

She wasn't standing on the smooth stones of the Room of Requirement. She was in a dark corridor, walls scorched and trembling with the echoes of battle. Shouts rang out ahead, spells cracked like whips, and heat seared her cheek as a jet of green light whizzed past, close enough to sting the air.

Lily gasped, ducking low instinctively. Her palms hit the floor, cold, slick with something she didn't dare look at.

And then she saw him.

Draco, younger than she knew him. His pale hair clung damp to his forehead, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. His wand hand shook as he pressed his back against the wall, eyes darting down the hall toward a figure she couldn't quite see.

Then, suddenly another hand reached for his. Small, tense, fingers brushing his own before curling tightly. The connection was desperate, a single heartbeat of human defiance in the chaos. He flinched at first, then clung back just as tightly, silver eyes locking onto theirs with something raw and unspoken.

The shouting grew louder. Sparks showered against the walls, smoke billowed in. The grip broke as someone dragged him forward, and Lily's lungs burned with the sudden press of fear.

"Move!" a voice shouted, so close it rattled in her ears.

A spell cracked overhead, lighting the world in sickly green. Lily ducked again with a cry-

"Lily?"

The corridor dissolved. The smoke, the shouting, the heat, all gone.

She was back in the Room, her heart hammering, her knees pressed into cool stone. Scorpius was staring at her, pale and alarmed.

"What just happened?" he demanded, scrambling forward. "You nearly hit the floor-"

Lily swallowed hard, her throat dry. "I saw another echo..."

Her hands still shook as she pushed her hair out of her face. She could feel it still, the rush of air from the curse that had missed her, the heat of smoke in her lungs, the fear.

But Scorpius had seen none of it.

Above them, the Tree's leaves shivered faintly, its voice threading into Lily's mind alone:

Each step draws you deeper. Be careful, young one, the past does not let go easily. 

Scorpius knelt in front of her, still looking rattled.

"You went as white as Nearly Headless Nick," he said, his voice low but urgent. "And then you... Merlin, Lily, you ducked. Like something was going to hit you."

"It felt like it was," Lily whispered, her voice thin. She rubbed her hands against her robes, still feeling the phantom scorch of smoke on her skin.

For a long moment they sat in silence, the golden light of the Tree painting their faces. Then Scorpius exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. "So it's just you now... Why you? Why not me?"

"I don't know." The words came out sharper than she intended. "The Tree showed us both that first time. And now it's shutting you out."

Scorpius frowned, his expression tightening. "Shutting me out, or choosing you?"

The Tree's leaves stirred, a hush settling over the Room. Its voice brushed against them both this time, cool and measured.

The echoes are threads. They seek the one who will weave them into truth. Not all hands are meant to hold them.

Scorpius bristled. "So she gets all of it? And I'm... what... meant to sit on the sidelines?"

"You're not," Lily said quickly. "I don't want this without you."

He didn't answer right away, his jaw working. Finally, he muttered, "But if it's just you... then what does that mean?"

Neither of them spoke for a while. The crackle of the Tree's branches filled the silence like a heartbeat.

"We need to figure it out," Lily said at last, her voice firmer. "Why me. Why now. What the visions are trying to show us."

"And what happens when they stop being safe," Scorpius added darkly.

The Tree's light dimmed, shadows crawling up the walls. Its voice slipped into Lily's thoughts alone this time, quiet but heavy.

Answers will come, but not yet. Time will decide what truths you are ready to bear.

Lily shivered, clutching her knees to her chest. She didn't say it aloud, but she knew one thing for certain. The visions weren't going away. And neither were the questions.