𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
chapter ten; What A Time For Apologies
" Are you apologizing to be forgiven, or because you feel bad? "

  LILY EVANS, ADMITTEDLY, did not expect to walk into The Three Broomsticks and see Salem Gerard rushing about. Sure, the redhead didn't notice her newest friend before she noticed her ex-boyfriend and his friends, but as soon as Lily laid eyes on the frantic girl ducking beneath a bar she surely shouldn't have been behind, she glided over.

  "You stole Roman's job."

  "What— Ow!"

  "Oh, geez," Lily rushed around the bar after hearing a loud thump, squatting beside the girl cradling her head, "Sal, I am so sorry—"

  "No, it's fine," Salem said tightly, rubbing her still-store skull, "I'm just daft."

  "Well, that's not true," Lily said, standing before offering Salem a hand up.

  "Prongs, Prongs, Prongs—"

  "What is it, Padfoot?!"

  "Evans, Gerard, together," Sirius sputtered.

  "I think we've found Padfoot's biggest fear," Remus remarked dryly, glancing at James whose eyes lingered on the redheads, "Wanna get out of here, mate?"

  "Nah," James shook his head, turning back to the three, "Mystery Girl wrote me back again."

  "You work here now?" Lily asked, watching Salem nudge a lilac box further beneath the bar.

  "Yeah," Salem nodded, "Um, needed some extra spending money."

  "Sally," Roman greeted, raising his eyebrows once he rounded a corner, "You've multiplied."

  "Oh, right, sorry," Salem fired off, not noticing her facade had already begun crumbling, "Um, this is Lily Evans she's a classmate— friend, sorry— and she is totally not supposed to be back here."

  "Letting it slide," Roman waved as Lily rounded the bar again, the man set down a box of freshly cleaned glasses and began putting them away, with Salem's assistance of course.

  "I didn't know you went by Sally," Lily said tentatively.

  "Went by—?"

  "Yeah, it's a nickname," Salem said to Roman quickly, busying herself with the glasses, "Um, short for. . ."

  "Salem. . ?"

  "Jesus," Salem mumbled under her breath, a hot flash overtaking her body from embarrassment and slight panic.

  "You've forgotten your own name now, have you?" Sirius asked, leaning on the bar. "Swooped in at just the right time."

  "You're an ass," Salem bit.

  "I didn't know your name was Salem," Roman mumbled.

  "I don't go by it," The girl informed all too harshly while glaring into Sirius' eyes, making the boy falter, "Bad connotation."

  "Oh, right, that makes sense," Roman mumbled, his eyes slightly wide, "Parents didn't quite think it through, eh?"

  "Mum's a muggle, she didn't know," Salem said quietly.

  "Your dad is, too, then?"

  "What did you need, Black?" Salem asked, avoiding Roman altogether.

  "Four more butterbeers," Sirius requested, "Uh, five, if Evans wants to join—"

  "No, I'm fine here," Lily cut him off swiftly, "Bye, Sirius."

  "Right, then," He nodded, "Uh, thank you."

  Sirius scampered off as Roman filled four mugs with the frothy drink, unaware of the redhead stare off inches from him.

  "I'm sorry," Roman finally said, "If. . . uh, your parents are a tough subject."

  "They aren't," Salem said quickly, "My dad left, but it doesn't matter."

  "Oh," The man said in a voice all too small for his frame, allowing the frosted mugs to clink onto the wooden counter as he faced the girl, "Well, if it's not overstepping, I reckon any guy walkin' out on a kid as great as you isn't worth your time, anyway."

  And the thing that took Roman, and Lily, by surprise, was Salem Gerard hugging Roman tightly. Her face was buried into his button-up work shirt, arms wrapped as tight as they could be around his middle— and for a moment Roman's arms remained in the air, awkwardly.

  But, sensing the teen needed some sort of comfort, he caved and hugged her back.

  And that was about the time Lily Evans finished putting the puzzle pieces together, and poor Salem saw it in her eyes the second she broke the hug.

  "I'll, uh, go get these over there," Roman informed, scooping up the mugs and wandering towards the boys.

  "He's your—"

  "Lily."

  "And he doesn't know—"

  "Lily."

  "He didn't even know your real name—"

  "I do not need another lecture about how shit of a person I am," Salem broke, making Lily halt, "I get it, it's all really screwed up, but I want to get to know him and, it's selfish, but he walked away once and maybe this is the only way he won't, okay? I can't keep not knowing about who he is, Lily, it's killed me, it's taken up my whole life."

  When a sob nearly shattered the pub's sunny disposition, Lily brought Salem into an embrace. She waved off Roman who looked concerned and sent a glare when Remus raised a brow at the sight. 

  There was a sense of protection that came with being friends with Salem. She looked so tough, borderline scary, hard to approach and harder to talk to— but she was just a girl. Broken as can be. By her father, her crushes, her peers. Her own name was a soft-spot.

  How was that fair for anyone?

  "I'm not trying to lecture you," Lily said softly, "I'm sorry, Sal."

  And Salem sensed this apology went beyond today. That it was an apology for everything; for not trying hard enough to reach out, for never telling Sirius off about the prank, for even, at one point, excusing the jokes that were at Salem's expense.

  They were all kids, feeding off a joke everyone found funny. But Salem was a kid, too, a kid whose childhood was stolen by the nicknames, by losing her homework and clothes to small fires, by days and days in Minerva McGonagall's office because even she could only do so much, and felt it her duty to provide an escape.

  "It's okay," Salem said quietly, bringing them back to the present, "I'm the only reason I'm in the situation."

  Salem pulled away, letting out a long breath as she wiped under her eyes. Lily watched with careful eyes, smiling when the Gerard girl gave her a smile.

  "Alright, I have to work," Salem laughed, "I'll see you later?"

  "Of course," Lily smiled.

  Salem scooped up the now empty box Roman had brought in the first place, before turning on her heel and disappearing into the back. Lily lingered for a bit, but eventually left the building without so much as grabbing a drink— and only then did the Marauders make their move.

  "You can't go back there," Roman noted, wiping down the bar as his words froze the four boys, "Guests only."

  "Oh, alright," James sighed after another moment, digging into his trouser pocket for coins before slapping them onto the wood.

  "There's three more of you."

  "Merlin, mate," Sirius mumbled, producing enough funds for he, Peter, and Remus, "That good?"

  "Enjoy your stay," Roman smiled as the four grumbled away.

  "Okay," Salem mumbled, pushing a cart along, "De-clutter, plates, laundry, wipe down, done—"

  "Gerard!"

  The girl halted in her movements, turning to face the Marauders, tumbling down the corridor.

  "What," She demanded, "You know, I only clean, I'm not at your beck and call—"

  "We're uh, not actually staying," Sirius said, out of breath, "Had to pay to get back here to catch you— Mayes is a tough guy, eh?"

  "Yeah," Remus nodded in agreement, "But maybe you should tell Sale— Sal why we're here."

  "Oh, right," Sirius nodded, "Uh, Salem. Sal. Gerard. We, as a unit, have come to realize we've never offered any sort of apology. . . for Witch Trials. . . so, uh, this is a formal extension of our sincerest regret."

  Salem stared at him blankly.

  "Think she heard me—?"

  "I heard you."

  "Look, Salem," James sighed, taking over and making Salem falter slightly, "We were kids. I'm not excusing it because of that— I sort of do that a lot. . . We're owning up to it, even though we were dumb and childish, and we're apologizing."

  "I appreciate it," Salem said tightly, "Is that all?"

  "Wait," Peter frowned, "Don't you forgive us?"

  "Are you apologizing to be forgiven, or because you feel bad?" Salem asked, crossing her arms, "Because if you feel bad, I accept the apology and it means something, but it doesn't erase the torture I went through for years. The tortue you all ignited and never cared to stop— I'm not sure if I will ever be able to forgive any of you for that."

  "Tortue's a strong word—"

  "I did every assignment in second and third year at least twice because people always burned my papers," Salem cut off Sirius, "I wouldn't let my mum light our fireplace until I was 15, I still don't believe anyone when they say they so much as want to be my friend, I wore plaits and one of them got chopped off for no apparent reason; it was torture, Sirius, and it was because I had a crush on you as a stupid, young, naive kid."

  Sirius stood there silently for a moment, and none of the other Marauders spoke up. Because, while they were accomplices, and James had even helped come up with the prank— it did all stem from Sirius.

  "I'm never going to be able to apologize enough," Sirius said quietly, "I just realized we'd never said sorry before. You don't have to forgive me, or us, but you deserved to know there was remorse."

  Sirius nodded after a second, before turning around and leaving silently. The other boys followed, aside from James Potter who lingered a bit.

  "Can I use your chess set?" He inquired suddenly, "I'm not sure if anyone even asks anymore—" 

  "No one's ever asked," She said, "Sure, whatever, not like I use it too much."

  "Thanks," James cleared his throat, "Uh, if I can ask. . . why do you leave it down there? Especially when you don't use it?"

  "Muggle chess is less violent," Salem said carefully, "It seems more of a game that. . . creates connections. I guess I want other people to have a chance at that, even if I don't."

  James stood still for a moment— perhaps he was overthinking it. He very well could've been, but then again, he couldn't risk wasting a clue.

  "There's a girl," James blurted, "I don't know who she is, we play chess."

  Salem's eyes widened briefly but went back down to size— sadly James Potter caught this and ran with it.

  "You know who it is."

  "You're mad."

  "You know who my Mystery Girl is."

  "Potter, you've had one too many butterbeers," Salem informed.

  "Maybe you're right. . ." James mumbled, "I'm sorry— sorry."

  Salem watched James leave the Three Broomsticks in a hurry, feeling only slightly sick to her stomach at the interaction. Little did she know, the second James was met with the sight of his friends, he shared the news.

  "Gerard knows who Mystery Girl is."

  "You're joking—"

  "Not a bit," James cut off Remus eagerly, "It's got to be Fitzgerald, right?"

  "Or. . . Evans?"

  "No, I know her handwriting," James shot down Peter, "It's Dottie bloody Fitzgerald—"

  "If you jump to conclusions, she might bolt," Sirius said evenly, "This calls for desperate measures."

  "Padfoot—"

  "We need a sample of Dottie Fitzgerald's handwriting."

  "Oh, Merlin."

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
the marauders being 
idiots part 4,827!