Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

31 August, 1995 - Boggart

Lavinia left Grimmauld Place that night feeling rather warm and fuzzy in her core and when she returned only a few days later, this time accompanied by Remus for an end of summer party Molly was hosting, her mood was largely undimmed. Largely, but not completely. Because it was the last day of summer and the children were leaving for school the next day and Harry still hadn't spoken so much as a word to her since that disaster of a conversation about Peter. Faced with this, Lavinia's resolve not to speak to Harry first, to be patient and let him come to her when he was ready, was being sorely tested. Because even though it now seemed foolish, she'd somehow thought he would have been ready before the summer was over. And yet... he didn't seem to be. At least, not that he was letting her know.

But even so, Lavinia restrained herself from saying anything while they were all gathered there in the kitchen, chatting and eating around the table because people seemed happy and light and... good. And Lavinia didn't want to be the one to ruin that atmosphere for anyone at all. Especially not Harry.

As it turned out, however, someone else managed to do just that, though Lavinia truly didn't think that had been Moody's intent. She overheard him as she was sitting next to Sirius, listening to him and Arthur discuss various muggle artefacts and not really paying much attention at all, content to just listen vaguely and amuse herself by comparing their rather inaccurate if excited summations of muggle technology to her own experiences. Really, she didn't think she would have noticed Moody pulling Harry aside had he not said a name that Lavinia hadn't heard in more than a decade.

Marlene Mckinnon.

Lavinia looked to the side, surprised as the name jarred something in her. She hadn't cared much about Marlene. Had never known the girl beyond moments in passing when she had been merely cordial, and that, Lavinia knew, had only really been for Lily's sake. But she did remember the day Marlene Mckinnon died. And she remembered the letter Lily had sent her and Sirius. Because Lily had cared. Lily had cared very much.

And maybe it was this or maybe it was just that she was desperate and pitiful, but Lavinia stood and wandered over to where Moody was pointing out people on the photograph, looking at the small, moving image as she approached.

It was exactly like the one on her mantle, of course, but Lavinia hadn't looked closely at it in a long time. It was, to her, no more than a reminder of all the people they had lost. All the death. All the stress and hurt and so much more than they had somehow just... suspended for that one day. And after that day, everything had started spiraling out of control. Marlene McKinnon had been only the start of it. Then it had been Dorcas Meadowes, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, the Bones' and...

And Lavinia realized with a very unpleasant joly that that day, that moment captured in that photograph Moody was pointing out faces on... that had been the last time she'd seen James and Lily alive.

"Ah, Selwyn," Moody growled and Lavinia jumped slightly, pulled from her rather morbid thoughts. Harry jumped too, whirling to look at her with an expression on his face Lavinia either couldn't or wouldn't read. "Remember the day this was taken?" the Auror asked, a teasing note in his voice that was somehow terrifying coming from him.

But Lavinia forced a smile as she realized what he meant. "Of course I do," she replied as lightly as she could manage. "You kept trying to get me to tell you the morbid details of my job."

Moody chuckled, a rather raspy sound and nodded, looking back down at the picture with his non magical eye. "Yeah," he mumbled, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "Professional curiosity, you know," he added and though he didn't look up at her, Lavinia got the distinct feeling that his magical eye was pinned on her. Which was why she kept her small smile forcibly in place as she looked down at the photo, pretending to study it as well even as a sick sort of sensation pooled in her stomach.