Title is obviously from Calvin Harris and Dua Lipa's 'One Kiss', because I couldn't resist the temptation of titling an Arthurian AU after a 2018 house hit.

One day, a wise man came to Gryffindor Castle.

At least, Sirius assumed he was wise. All wise men looked the same: old, long beards, weary eyes, cracked voices. Usually Sirius avoided them, preferring not to have his inevitable doom alluded to in rhyming couplets. Unfortunately, most of the knights had gone hunting this morning and Sirius was the only knight left in the courtyard. He therefore greeted the visitor amiably.

"Good day, master. How could I be of service?"

The wise man gave him one of their trademark stares. "Sir Sirius," he said sharply.

Sirius bowed. Whilst it was odd that the wise man knew his identity, he decided that stories of his daring had probably spread up and down the country, and after all, his hair was rather distinctive. "At your service."

The wise man continued to regard him without blinking. "Sirius," he proclaimed, "son of Orion and Walburga Black, who fought on the side against King James not half a decade ago."

The easy smile on Sirius's face froze. His parentage was certainly not the sort of common knowledge that could have spread up and down the country. "Orion is disputed," he said, airily. "My dear mother had quite the pick of the town."

The wise man snorted but said nothing, which only increased Sirius's unease.

"I can offer you information about the woman you will love and marry," he said abruptly. "For ten shillings."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. Ten shillings was no small sum and he would be unwilling to pay that for a good polish of his armour, let alone for some information he did not particularly desire. "A kind offer," he said. "But I will never marry."

The wise man seemed unimpressed. "Codswallop," he said, and spat on the floor. Sirius looked around to see if anyone else had observed this blatant breach of etiquette, but apparently the whole of Gryffindor had cleared out so he could have this conversation in private.

"Fine," said Sirius after a brief staring match, feeling very much that he would regret this later. "Ten shillings it is. I will feel robbed whatever you tell me, but I hope it is at least amusing."

The wise man smiled crookedly, and revealed what was left of his teeth. "I aim to please. Your left hand, please."

"Certainly," said Sirius, and pulled off his glove.

The wise man turned Sirius's hand in his. "Most curious," he said.

"That makes one of us, old man."

The wise man dropped Sirius's hand and snapped his head up so fast that Sirius was worried he would break his neck.

"Well?" demanded Sirius. "What do you have to tell me?"

"Fifty years will pass when you meet."

Sirius's eyebrows shot up. "I will be seventy-six ?"

The wise man chuckled suddenly, and Sirius felt that he had not only robbed him of ten shillings, but stolen his good humour too. "Fifty years, and you will fall at her feet." Sirius blanched at the rhyming couplet. Meanwhile, the wise man tossed a coin in the air and caught it deftly, whilst Sirius resisted the temptation to snatch it out from under his nose.

"Ten shillings will be quite enough for a time. My warmest thanks, Sir Sirius."

"Of course," he said. "Good day."

Then the wise man left, apparently satisfied with his work.

"Oh, hell," said Sirius.

Sirius was on his way to the sparring grounds to channel his confusion into stabbing a bale of hay, when someone called his name.

"Sir Sirius!" said Queen Lily, from about ten feet away.

Sirius might have been moody, but he was not going to avoid a direct call from the Queen, who was also incidentally one of his best friends. "My lady," he said, stopping in his tracks and turning to bow. "What a pleasure."

"Were you going somewhere?" asked Lily politely.

He had been, but on second thoughts, talking to Lily about what had just happened seemed a healthier way of dealing with his emotions than his original plan. "To find you, actually," he said, smoothly. "I am in need of your wise counsel."

Lily laughed. "I will try not to disappoint. What has got to you?"

"Nothing has got to me," said Sirius, as they walked.

Lily, who had experience wrangling information out of Sirius, merely said nothing.

He sighed. "Did you see the old man a few minutes ago?"

Lily shook her head. "Is he still here?"

"He left right after he finished muddling my brains. He forced me to give him ten shillings, then told me it would take fifty years for me to meet the woman I would — and I quote — 'love and marry'. I questioned him, he avoided my questioning, then left."

Lily did not look as alarmed as Sirius felt she ought to have done, considering their friendship. "A crook, then," she said brightly. "Perhaps your ten shillings will enable him to start a better life. You did a good deed."

Sirius shook his head. "He knew about my parentage. And there was something in his air. I would bet another ten shillings he dabbles in the magical arts."

Lily nodded slowly.

"It does not matter," said Sirius, suddenly cheerful. "I am too restless for love now, but perhaps when I am seventy-six, I will be so bored that I will attempt to find it."

Lily, happily married to King James, had made it one of her missions to find love for all the knights, so that they might enjoy the same wedded bliss she did. Her other missions: women's rights, religious toleration and child literacy, Sirius supported heartily, but he had no wish to be married, and now that he knew he was to be old when it happened, he took comfort in the fact that he would not have to think on it for many decades.

"That is poppycock," said Lily. "You are merely afraid."

"But I will not be afraid when I am seventy-six," said Sirius.

Lily rolled her eyes. "You will not be seventy-six."

"You accuse a wise man of lying?"

Lily's eyebrows drew sharply together. "I am not. I think you believe it will be fifty years until you meet, but I do not believe that is the definite truth. You must have misunderstood him."

"So you think I am a half-wit."

Lily fixed him with a sharp look. "I think wise men are very good at twisting their words. And you were foolish to let him leave without further questioning."

Lily was truly one of Sirius's best friends, and not just because his other best friend, the King, would be devastated if Sirius and his wife did not get along. But she was without a doubt the most stubborn person he had ever met. There was no way to misinterpret 'fifty years will pass until you meet', and at any rate, Sirius had at present no great desire for love. Lily was intermeddling for nobody's benefit.

"It is no great harm if I am a septuagenarian when I find love," he said. "At least it is confirmation that I will live that long."

"You will not be seventy-six," she repeated forcefully, as if pure strength of words could enshrine it into truth.

He laughed. "You would wager on it?"

"Sirius, you laugh now," she said severely. "But you will be happily married, I am sure of it, and in good time."

"Surely you can be more specific than 'in good time'."

"A year," Lily declared. "I will make it happen."

Sirius was filled with the immediate fear that Lily would track down every woman in the land and bring them to him.

"I will wager you those ten shillings you lost earlier," she said suddenly. "If you win the wager, it will, in reality, be a loss for both of us."

Sirius, always one to continue baiting for as long as he could, replied, "If you are so certain, surely you could express that certainty with more than a mere ten shillings?"

Lily technically had all the royal coffers to spend at her will, but she still deliberated for thirty seconds before nodding sharply. "A pound, then." She tilted her head. "You are certain that that will not make too large a dent in your savings?"

"A pound is splendid," retorted Sirius. "A year from now, I hope to make a purchase of some new armour."

Lily sniffed. "We shall see. In other news, it has been several hours, and James still has not returned from hunting. Would you care for chess?"

"Of course," said Sirius. Generously, he added, "You can be white."

An hour later, midway through their game, James entered the room. Lily beamed at the sight of him and jumped up for an embrace. He kissed her — less enthusiastically than usual, Sirius was pleased to note — and then sank into the loveseat near the chess table, a brooding expression settling on his features.

"What is it?" asked Lily, who had already dismissed the guards with a flick of her hand. "James, tell me."

James, who was usually too impatient to brood, sighed again.

"My lord, there is clearly something you want to tell us," said Sirius patiently.

James sat up. "There is." He sighed again, then seemed to tire of it. "This morning, I was riding in the forest, unarmed — "

" Unarmed ?" demanded Lily and Sirius, in simultaneously shrill voices.

James looked sheepish at the combined outrage of his wife and best friend. "I dropped my spear, and I had been separated from the rest of the hunters."

Lily's face showed that she was not entirely mollified, but she nodded. "Go on."

"So I went a little further than usual and came upon some land belonging to a knight I have never heard of. Sir Severus?"

Sirius had begun to shake his head, but Lily coloured immediately. "We were good friends when we were children," she said. "But no more. The last I knew of him, he had grown quite melancholy and insular."

"I wish he had stayed insular," said James. "Because he accused me of trespassing and, as I stood unarmed, pointed his sword at my neck."

Sirius and Lily exchanged worried looks.

"His own king?" demanded Sirius. "What a treacherous git."

James looked pained. "I believe he is not aligned to the House of Gryffindor." He looked inquiringly at Lily.

"No," said Lily slowly. "From what I can remember, he displayed a preference for our opponents."

James nodded. "Well, then. That explains the treachery."

"But you are here with us now," said Lily. "Without a scratch. So all is well."

"All is not well," said James. "I may be without a scratch on the outside, but inside my head I am in riot. The only reason he let me go is because I gave him my word as a knight and king that I return within a year, in the same unarmed state I was today, bearing the answer to his riddle. Or, I assume, he kills me."

Lily laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that was always, to James, the sound of love. "That is easy, my love. If our own wits cannot manage it, then we shall call for answers from all over the land. A year later, you will be free, and Sirius — " she gave him a severe look — "will be happily married."

"I shall give you and your bride my congratulations now," said James dryly, "as I will likely find it difficult to attend."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "My lord, would you stop alluding to your death before finishing the story of how it will come about?"

"Certainly," said James. "I am to answer this question: what is it that women most desire?"

"A good tumbling," said Sirius.

"Love," said Lily, smiling at her husband. "And happiness."

"That is three answers already, and there are only two of you," said James. "Sir Severus demands one answer."

"Only because you married a wife who is determined to always talk more than the person before her," retorted Sirius. "But I am not a woman, so you may strike my suggestion off your list."

"Very gracious, Sir Sirius," said Lily, inclining her head. "Incidentally, that is a desirable trait in a husband."

Sirius sighed as his two best friends laughed at his expense. "I have told you many times that I am a confirmed bachelor."

Lily laughed even harder. "So was James when I met him. You men all think you know yourselves well enough to proclaim yourselves bachelors for the rest of your days, when in truth, nobody knows themselves properly until they have been in love."

It was not that Sirius did not believe in love. He did not have a choice but to, as every day he saw proof of it between his king and queen. But he felt a sort of distaste for love, a reluctance to look for it, and frankly, he had never met anyone he liked enough to promise forever to.

"I will be expecting winnings of one pound sometime within a year from now," Lily told her husband. "Sirius has had the poor judgement to enter into a small wager with me. The terms are that he will be happily married, by my own ministrations, this time next year."

"Your queen," Sirius told James, ignoring Lily, "has been indulging in irresponsible spending by betting against my everlasting unfettered state."

Their attempt to distract James from the possibility of his death worked, as he laughed and declared that Lily would succeed in anything she put her mind to. Sirius decided that tomorrow, he would visit nearby villages and collect answers from women about what they most desired. Surely, one answer would have much more support than the others, and this would be the one that Sir Severus demanded.

Eleven months and several weeks passed. James grew to realise the likelihood of his impending death not like a fluttering worry, but like a cold truth — because however brilliant he was in combat, in two days he would be unarmed against a man with a sword. James's strongest chance of survival was that he could strike a blow to his enemy's head and take his sword for himself, but he did not think Sir Severus was the kind of knight who would be so careless to expose his head.

James, Sirius and half the other knights had spent the past eleven months searching up and down the country for the answer they knew must exist — Lily confirming that Sir Severus, whilst cruel, would never be unfair so as to ask an impossible question — and came back with thousands of answers: money, beauty, admiration; and, according to one old woman, a satisfying romp, for it had been an age since she had enjoyed what apparently came so freely in her youth. James had not known what to make of that. But it was unlikely to stun Sir Severus the way it had stunned him, so all the answers were useless.

So James spent every day practising how to disarm a man with a sword using only his fists, all with the lingering knowledge that it was likely worthless. The other knights prepared to swear their allegiance to Lily alone, who would become Queen Regnant upon James's death. Gryffindor Castle grew quieter, losing its lively character as the prospect of its King's death drew closer.

Lily took to sleeping erratic hours, each time waking up in a fear that whilst she had been sleeping, James had died. Only the feeling of James's arms around her could convince her that it was just a fear which had not yet happened. And she was doing everything in her power to find the answer to the riddle; she had enquired amongst her ladies, sent out messengers to far-reaching villages and visited the homes she had set up for women needing a safer place. All of them had yielded different answers without any strong link to Severus himself, and she felt her frustration growing, that she should have known the answer that Severus wanted. It was a impossible, unanswerable question, and she told James as much in many angry rants, but she knew Severus would have based his assumptions on something .

She considered going to see Severus herself, but decided that it would likely hurt his pride, and then James's death would be even surer. So she continued to increase the searches and tried to recall every conversation she and Severus ever had, sifting through the cloudiness that came from ten, fifteen years gone by. Nothing seemed to hold the answer.

When she and Severus were children, she had known him as well as she knew herself. Now they were so distant she might not have recognised him, but she knew that the answer to his question came from something in his own experience. There must have been a way to find this, something or somebody they both knew…

Then an idea hit her.

The next day, she left the castle at noon, and went into the forest.

"Lily," said the old woman at the door, in a cracked, wheezy voice. She did not address her as 'my lady' or 'Queen Lily', but Lily supposed there were certain privileges that could be granted to family. "I hope you have not come to subject me to another round of weak arguments. I will not live in your castle."

"It is good to see you too, Petunia," said Lily, not without humour. "It is nothing of the sort. May I come in?"

Petunia gave her a sharp look that emphasised her hag-like features. "I suppose," she said, then stalked — well, hobbled indelicately, though she gave the impression of stalking — into her small cottage.

Lily cleared her throat, then entered.

Petunia had already sat down, so Lily followed suit, brushing down her skirts and folding her hands in her lap. "Severus wants to kill my husband," she said, flatly. "He demands that James tell him what it is that he believes women most desire, or face death for trespassing on his land."

Petunia did not gasp at this, but her wrinkles significantly moved.

"You know Severus better than I. Surely you know the answer he requires, or — Tuney, I — I love James. I cannot let him die; I do not know what to do if he does. Please — I love him so much, and Severus is so difficult — and I know you can help me."

Petunia sniffed. "As it happens, I do know the answer he needs."

Even the dark circles under Lily's eyes lifted when she heard this. "You do? Oh, Tuney, I can never — thank you. Thank you ."

"If I help your husband, what can you give me in return?"

Secretly, Lily thought that her sister ought to be more giving, but she supposed that if you were cursed to look multiple times your real age, generosity would not come easily.

"Anything," she said immediately. "Anything I can. I will increase threefold the search for something to break your curse. Or I will never bother you again, if that is what you desire. All I want is for James to be alive and well."

Petunia's lip curled in mockery. "I need the love of a good man. That will bring me back who I used to be."

Lily did not know the complete details of Petunia's curse. Her sister, back when she looked her actual age, used to be quite beautiful, or at least striking, with high cheekbones and sharp eyes. Then one day, she was cursed. Now apparently the alleviation for this curse was the love of a good man.

"Indeed," said Lily.

There was a silence.

"Perhaps if you told a suitable man this, you could break the curse yourself?" she suggested lightly. It was an inappropriate thing to say, but she was giddy — giddy from the knowledge that her husband was not going to die — they would be together for years and years — there would be laughter and children and so, so much happiness.

Petunia glared at Lily. "Do not take me for an idiot. It would not work for the man to know I am cursed, and at any rate, if I told one, he would think I had gone mad."

"Ah," said Lily. "So…"

Lily had asked Petunia about the details of her curse once. Petunia had glared, and Lily had been too afraid of ruining their relationship to ever set foot in that domain again.

"I shall satisfy your curiosity," said Petunia. "Remember Sir Vernon?"

"That cowardly beast?" said Lily, her voice rising. " He did this to you?"

Petunia looked unimpressed. "That was rather obvious. It is quite astonishing that you failed to guess that."

Lily looked contrite.

Petunia continued. "He said he loved me and I spurned his advances."

Lily found it telling that Sir Vernon was apparently not a good enough man to break the curse.

"He was furious, which was to be expected, but I did not expect that he knew a witch. He paid her to curse me to look fifty years older, and impossibly unattractive. I am only to win my self back if I find a man willing to look past what is impossible to unsee. And even though one is more likely to have me, I will not marry an old man."

"Then find a blind man," said Lily. "He would barely know a thing."

"Impossible," said Petunia flatly. "It is too manipulative. And my voice sounds like that of a wizened old crone. But I am sure you can find me a suitable man from one of your knights."

Lily did not reply for a few moments, which gave Petunia time to laugh bitterly. "No good men in that court of yours?" she asked. "Or none that you are willing to give up to such as hag as I?"

Lily felt a rush of embarrassment. "No, Tuney, I — " She broke off. If Lily could have it her way, Petunia would have lived with her in Gryffindor Castle, and people would know her biting wit and surprising warmth, which Lily knew she had. But Petunia, proud as ever, refused to go out as much as possible, refused to even see Lily more than a few times a year, and lived in a cottage in the woods that was almost impossible to find, unless you knew the way. "I merely feel uncomfortable giving away the hand of a knight without his permission."

Petunia snorted. "If you can overcome your discomfort to save your beloved husband's life, then I will be waiting."

Lily sat in silence for a few minutes. But the thought of losing James was too much, and Petunia would make a man a good wife. She may well be damned for this, but she thought that she would suffer that, to save James's life.

"Very well," she said, finally. "Is there a particular knight of your choosing?"

Petunia shrugged. "Whoever steps forward will be a good one, and good enough."

Lily nodded.

"Tell your husband to find me the day of his reckoning," said Petunia. "I shall be here. I will tell him the answer he needs to hear. He will shock Severus by knowing it. There will be a happy wedding shortly afterwards."

Lily nodded again, the consequences of her actions beginning to sink in. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then she rose to go.

"I must tell James the good news," she said.

"Indeed."

Impulsively, she flung her arms around her sister's neck. " Thank you, Tuney," she whispered, as tears began to fall. "Thank you."

Petunia returned the embrace stiffly, although whether this was due to her joints, Lily could not tell. "It is your most noble knight you should be thanking," she replied, but held on a little longer than was necessary. "I shall wait here for your husband."

"Lily, my love," said James, when Lily entered the sparring grounds, flanked by a few guards. He dropped the sword and went to her. "I have spent too much time in here of late," he said, and kissed her hand. "Not that it will be much use."

Lily directed the smile that had been on her face ever since she left Petunia's cottage towards her husband. "May we walk?"

James motioned to her guards to follow at a distance, as they began walking. "I suppose you ought to have been the one to order them," he said. "It will help get everyone used to the transition."

Lily smiled, wider. "James."

He gave her a look. "I will not appoint Sirius as my heir," he said. "He knows nothing of office. And the people will accept you, I am sure. You are already a good queen."

"James, the reason why I am a good queen is because we share duties and discuss our work. And," she said, the smile creeping into her voice, "I think we will be sharing those duties for a long time. I have found a solution to your problem, and I am certain that it will work. You will not die by Severus's hand."

James did a very unkingly thing as he gaped at her. "Lily. What do you mean?"

She laughed, and as always, he was reminded of how much he loved her. "Trust me. You are to go to a cottage in the forest just before you go to meet Severus. I shall give you the directions. There you will find an old woman, who will tell you the answer Severus requires. Severus will set you free, reluctant though he may be to do so, and you will return to me and Gryffindor alive and well."

James kissed her, swift and sure. "You are certain this will work?"

"Positive," she said, and then broke out into a laugh. "My God, James, I have been so worried."

"I know," said James, and they both laughed. "So have I."

"I love you," said Lily seriously. "More and more each day. I could hardly stand the idea that you would leave me before I could love you more."

"Nor I," he said, and kissed her again. When they broke apart, he grinned and said, "And what did you promise this woman in return? Does she want our firstborn?"

He knew her so well, knew that if there was any bad news to come, she would tell him later. "I promised nothing bad," she said, hurriedly. "Only — well, she would like to marry."

James gave her a long look. "Why do I sense there is something more to this?"

Lily looked around to check nobody was near. "She is an old woman," she said, slowly.

"An old woman? Well, I suppose we can find her a selection of retired knights. No — we will round up every old man in the country," he declared, grinning. "Only the best for the woman who saved my life."

Lily looked uneasy and for a moment, thought not to tell him until he came back to her alive. But she would not lie to her husband, or ruin Petunia's chances.

"She wishes to marry one of our knights."

James gaped again. "An old woman," he repeated.

"Yes."

"Wishes to marry one of our young, healthy knights."

"Yes."

James seemed to be in shock.

"James?" asked Lily. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, fine. An old woman , you say?"

"Why is that so difficult to believe?" she said defensively. "Perhaps she is bored of a single life. Perhaps she desires the energy of youth."

"The energy of a youth, I warrant."

Lily fixed him with a glare. "It does not matter why. And plenty of old men marry young, beautiful women. Why is this an odd request?"

"Because young men have more choices than young women, and they choose not to marry women old enough to be their grandmother."

Lily sighed at the reasonable explanation he gave. "I am well aware of the limitations placed on young women. Well, she seems to be clever at least. Perhaps one of our knights may value that. Marriage should not be dictated by looks."

"Maybe not," said James, grinning at his wife, "but physical attraction is important."

Lily refused to blush. "James."

He sighed. "She deserves all we can give her, since she has in effect saved my life. We better call a council of the Round Table. Find a knight willing to give up his life for me."

Lily bristled at the notion that marriage to her sister was akin to death, but remembered that she was not to give away any notion of knowing Petunia's story. "Indeed," she said, not as stiffly as she wanted to sound. "Call a meeting of the Round Table," she told a guard, who nodded and left. "I am sure at least one knight will volunteer. If not, I shall threaten them myself."

"A terrifying prospect," said James. "I am lucky to have such a fearsome woman as my queen."

"You are," agreed Lily, and James laughed louder then than he had done in months.

When the knights had gathered, James and Lily entered, and they all rose.

"Be seated," said James. "As you know, in two days, I am going to meet Sir Severus."

A murmur broke out amongst the knights, which Lily silenced with a flick of her wrist.

"As I will be unarmed and he threatened to kill me the last time we met, the odds are hardly in my favour."

Lily's eyes met James's, and he conceded the dramatic effects.

"Fortunately," he said, flashing a smile at her, "the Queen has saved me."

The cheering that broke out was louder than when James announced his engagement. The whole room seemed to come alive, and he felt the love and loyalty of his men like warmth in summer air. Sir Gideon nearly spilled his flagon.

James grinned, then remembered there was another point to this meeting. "I will not concern you with the details," he continued. "But in bargaining for my life, something must be given in return." Murmurs began to rise again, then fall.

He had decided with Lily to ease the knights into it, adding details at a time. "One of you is to marry."

Sir Peter laughed. "Is that all the requirement in return for saving your life? Sir Frank is to marry Lady Alice in a fortnight."

Frank blushed. "I am," he said. "My lord, I am sure Alice and I would be willing to move forward the date to fulfill your bargain."

"Sir Peter, as ever, you jump to conclusions," said James, not unkindly. "The marriage is to take place between one of you and the woman who is to tell me the answer to the riddle."

A silence fell. "Not the Queen, then, I grant," said Sir Remus, dryly.

"Indeed not," said Lily. "James exaggerated when he said I saved him. I am merely the messenger."

"Well, who is the lady?" asked Sir Caradoc. "If one of us is to pledge our lives to her, then we might be granted knowledge of her person."

"Is she fair?" asked Sir Peter.

"Running out of options, Peter?" asked Sirius, and the knights chuckled.

James hesitated, and Lily took over. "Fairness should not be your first requisite in a wife," she said, severely.

"It seems to have been my lord's," called Sir Gideon, and Remus hit him with his scabbard.

"Thank you, Sir Remus," said Lily. "No, I suppose you would not describe her as fair. She is an old woman."

There was a shocked silence.

"Then what does she want with one of us?" called Sir Fabian. "Surely she can marry someone from her own generation."

"A young man is more pleasing to look at than an old one," said Lily defensively. "If I had the pick of the land, as this woman does now, I am sure I would choose the same."

"You did," said James, smiling.

"I imagine a young man is pleasing in more ways than mere looks," said Sirius. Lily rolled her eyes at the innuendo. "But surely if her desire for marriage blows in that quarter — "

"You mean personal quarters," interjected James, earning him a round of laughs, which Lily did not participate in. She enjoyed wordplay as much as the next person, but this was her sister they were inadvertently discussing the sexual habits of.

" — Then a young man would likely tire her out," finished Sirius.

"Sir Sirius, please constrain your vulgarity to when you are alone," said Lily mildly, and Sirius gave her a look of approval whilst the other knights laughed. "The fact remains that she wishes to marry one of you, and if none of you step forth, your king will die."

She felt like a schoolmistress, as she stared around the table and everyone cast their eyes downward.

"He is your king," said Lily, her volume rising. "And my husband. If he dies and I become Queen, I swear I shall make all of your lives a misery, because none of you were willing to make a sacrifice when he needed — "

"I will do it," said Sirius.

There was an audible sigh of relief from the other knights, which Lily could not blame them for.

"What?" said Sirius. "Are you shocked that one of you has more mettle than the rest?"

Lily cleared her throat. "It is merely, I think, that you have always been so opposed to marriage in the past."

"Thank you, Sir Sirius," said James. "I can never repay you."

"No need," said Sirius. "As I am opposed to marriage, then I am equally opposed to it with any woman. It makes no matter to me whether she is young or old."

"Nevertheless, Sir Sirius, you have our thanks," said Lily.

Sir Remus stood, a smile gracing his features. "A toast," he said, raising his flagon. "To Sir Sirius and his betrothed lady. May they be very happy together."

"Aye!" came a sea of voices.

Sirius downed his wine.

James trusted Lily, of course, but it was still a relief when, after a few hours of riding in the forest, he finally found the cottage she had described.

Dismounting and tying his horse to the fence, he knocked and waited. Sure enough, an old woman appeared at the window, and went to open the door.

James tried to imagine her as someone young and beautiful, as she likely had been once, but she was undeniably old. Her face looked as if it had been cursed with all the worst of old age: warts, liver spots, barely any teeth. The guilt of forcing Sirius to marry this woman struck at him, and he almost thought of going to see Sir Severus without the answer.

"I suspect you are considering giving up your life so your friend will not be shackled to me for the rest of his," she croaked.

At least she has spirit , James thought. Sirius's life would be a hell of boredom if he was married to a dull woman, but with her, even if she was an old hag, his days would at least be exciting.

"Not any more," said James, flashing her a charming smile that would have made Lily at least grin back, before she demanded why he was being so charming. This woman, though, harrumphed immediately.

"The answer Severus wants is sovereignty," she said. "The power to make your own decisions." She sniffed, which sounded remarkably youthful and feminine. "Not that I would expect a man to know."

"My wife told me it was love and happiness," said James.

The old woman snorted. "Then your wife is a very lucky woman."

"Not as lucky as me," said James, instinctively. "But why do you say she is?"

"I suspect she takes her sovereignty for granted," the old woman replied. "But not love, if she says that is womankind's greatest desire. Not you."

James wondered how it was that this old woman had such an insight into his wife's psychology, but decided that any woman who knew the answer to Sir Severus's riddle must have had other powers too. "That is very kind," he said gently. Then, sincerely, "I hope you and Sirius feel the same way towards one another."

"Sirius," repeated the old woman. "So he is your chosen lamb for slaughter."

"He volunteered, actually." James was determined to be proud of his best friend. "He is very noble, when he stops pretending that he cares not a jot for such things."

The old woman's lip curled. "I shall see you after you win back your life," she said, then closed the door.

James stood frozen on the step for a bit. Then, bizarrely, he began laughing.

"Sirius might actually like her," he said, then mounted his horse.

It was a short ride to the edge of Sir Severus's land. Severus was standing probably in the exact same place he had been a year ago, and James dismounted a few feet away.

"Come to die, I assume," said the knight. "And you have arrived in the same state you were a year hence?"

"Almost," agreed James. "I have said my goodbyes, so you need not worry that my death will come as a shock to those I love. But remind me: what was the question that if I answered, I would not die?"

Severus gave him a look of utter disgust. "You cannot have found the answer. But if you want to play it that way, I will oblige. Well, my lord. What do women desire the most?"

James pretended to stall. "You know, the moment I heard those words, I was certain I would discover the answer in short time."

Severus seemed unimpressed. "Then reveal it."

James continued. "My lovely wife — you have heard of her?"

"I have," said Severus, curtly. "A queen is usually well-known in her own country." But he spoke his words faster than they needed to be, and James remembered that Lily said she knew him a long time ago. Then she had broken off contact. Perhaps Sir Severus had fallen in love with her.

"My wife gave me two answers," said James. "I spent a long time choosing between them."

"And an even longer time revealing which one you eventually decided on," said Severus. "Are you delaying under the hopes of a rescue in your final minutes?"

James smiled. "Not so. Well, Sir Severus. You gave me a difficult task by asking me a question with no one answer. You see, all women are different, and it is a gross assumption to say that all womankind desire one thing the most."

"Nevertheless," said Severus, sarcasm dripping from his tone, "it is the question I have asked."

James shrugged. "Then I will satisfy your requirements. What women desire most, you believe, is sovereignty. The power to make their own decisions."

There was a silence.

"I know what sovereignty means," Severus snapped. "Fine. Take back your miserable life. Next time I will not be so generous."

"Not a problem; you were generous enough the first time," said James gallantly. He bowed, which might have been a touch too much, but the granting back his life had put him in high spirits. "It was a pleasure doing business, Sir Severus."

"Get out of my sight."

That was no way to speak to his king, but James was feeling charitable. "Certainly," he said, before jumping on his horse and riding away.

This time, James did not need to knock, as the old woman was waiting for him outside her cottage.

"You are alive," she observed, as James walked towards her, leading his horse. "That is fortunate."

"Indeed," said James. "And now we will go and meet your groom." He boosted her into the saddle, which was not as difficult as he had imagined — she was a surprisingly agile old woman. "We will reach the castle in four hours," he said, when she was securely seated and they had begun their journey, James leading them by a rope and the horse, with the old woman seated, trotting along. "Perhaps you would like to talk? About yourself?"

She bristled at this. "I would not."

"Ah," said James. "Would you prefer another topic?"

"No."

He nodded, and so it was the quietest four hours of James's life.

When they arrived at the castle, Lily came to greet them.

"Where is my groom?" demanded the old woman.

Lily, stepping back from hugging James, glanced at her sister. "Sirius? Oh, he…"

"Here, my lady. My lord," he said, bowing to James. He turned to the old woman. "Sir Sirius."

Lily, observing Sirius, did not miss the slight hesitation or the nervous swallow when he caught sight of Petunia for the first time. Petunia evidently had not either, as her lip curled.

"Lady Petunia," she said. There was a shocked silence: Lily, because absurdly she had not thought her sister would give her name; James, because for all his gallantry, did not even know the name of the woman who had saved his life; and Sirius, because he realised he would be hearing this voice, every morning, until in a few years she died.

"Are you surprised that I am a lady?" asked Petunia, her cackle clearer than ever. "At least the marriage certificate will look proper."

Sirius swallowed. "Indeed." He turned to Lily. "My lady, is it not time for the feast?"

"Not yet, Sir Sirius," said Lily. "First my lord and Lady Petunia must wash and change into clothes appropriate for a wedding. Then you have to actually get married before the feast."

"Make them go, then," said Sirius gruffly. "I will not escape in the time that they are gone."

"I would have you killed if you tried," said Lily sweetly.

The wedding feast was even more awkward than the ceremony.

The vows had been stilted, perfunctory; nothing like the joyful declarations at James and Lily's wedding. When the priest had, somewhat ill-advisedly, left a pause for the groom to kiss the bride, Sirius had not even pretended to do so, and bride and groom had stood unmoving before the congregation. The applause that accompanied their walk back down the aisle was scattered at best. Lily, somewhat guiltily, remembered the whoops and cheers at her own wedding, the easy way she had fit into James's arms when he kissed her, his enthusiasm bordering on scandalous.

But the feast was worse. The musicians could actually be heard clearly, as all the talking around the table was hushed murmurs. There was a sense of surrealism in the hall, as if Sirius, handsome and not even thirty, could surely not be marrying a woman who might had lived through the Age of Gryffindor itself — and who, moreover, looked an old hag.

Sirius had never eaten so little as he did at this meal. Petunia, remarkably stiff-backed for someone in the body of an old woman, repelled any congratulations she might have received with her haughty air. Bride and groom did not speak to each other, and their closest interaction came when Sirius handed Petunia the salt.

"At least it will be over in a few years," Sir Fabian muttered a little too loudly, and everyone froze.

"I will likely outlive you," said Petunia raspily, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. Lily could see the last shred of hope on Sirius's face die away. She and James, sitting at opposing ends of the table, exchanged looks, and James called the feast to a merciful close. Sirius led Petunia up the stairs to his — no, their — chambers, and tried not to dread what was to occur that night.

"This is to be our bedchamber," said Sirius, as they walked stiffly along opposite sides of the bed. "You may decorate it how you wish."

Petunia cast an unimpressed eye over the furnishings. "Do you not care because you plan to spend so little time here?"

Sirius seemed taken aback by that, but he barked out a laugh. "Perhaps more now that you show your wit."

They met at the end of the bed, and stared at each other.

"Kiss me," Petunia demanded suddenly.

Sirius merely raised an eyebrow. "Any particular requisites?"

"Kiss me like you want to."

Sirius looked at the woman standing before him, who was old enough to be his grandmother but apparently would never die off. So there was to be a lifetime of this. Whatever smarts she might display in their conversations, the fact remained that she was five decades his elder, with more warts than Sirius could have thought possible, and he simply wished this was not happening. Whatever madness had possessed him to volunteer during that Round Table meeting had now left him. He could not muster up an ounce of attraction to her, and she must have known it would be like this. He had no idea why she, who seemed so sharp and intelligent, would demand to marry a young man, who would undoubtedly feel cold towards her.

But if this was to be her first request to him, he would honour it. He bent, for she was a good deal shorter than him, and gave her a kiss to remember. Then he turned away, staring at the floor, hating himself for being so noble, and hating himself for hating her, too.

"Sir Sirius?" came a voice that was not a cackle, but low and rich. "My lord, are you alright?"

He turned around and stared at the owner of the voice. If she had been the woman who knew the answer to Sir Severus's question, Sirius was sure there would not be the silence that befell the Round Table when James announced that one of them was to marry her.

"You — where — where is my wife? The Lady Petunia?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "I am, obviously."

Sirius was not often shocked, but this was not something that occurred often. "You. Are Lady Petunia."

"Yes," said the woman impatiently, which Sirius felt was rather harsh of her. "Not repulsive in my true form, am I?"

Sirius choked. "No," he said. "No, you are not. What is happening? Who turned you into what you were? I swear, I will kill them — "

"You would not dare, for I took great pains to ensure he lives a miserable life."

Sirius gradually sank down to sit on their bed.

She continued. "I rejected a suitor. As a result of this, he found me too independent, and in his bitterness ordered a witch to curse me. My curse — being forced to look like the archetypal old hag — would only be lifted if I found a man willing to live with my independence."

Sirius stared at her. "So now your curse is broken?"

Petunia sighed irritatedly. "Unfortunately, not completely. I can only look like this for twelve hours in the day. Either I am that old hag by day and all your fellow knights give you looks of pity, or I am the hag by night and you cannot muster up any attraction to me when it is most needed. Either you alone shall know my true form, or you shall never have it to yourself. It is your decision which one to choose."

"A difficult choice," he mused.

She shot him a glare. "If it were easy, it would hardly be a part of a malicious curse."

He grinned at her, which she found — disturbing. And pleasant.

"Let me repeat the terms," said Sirius. "You are either beautiful to me at night, when we are alone, or beautiful during the day, to the outside world."

"Flattery is not necessary," sniffed Petunia. "But that is the idea, yes."

"Oh, but it is," said Sirius. "I would like my wife to at least be charmed by me, after I make a choice she will have to live with for the rest of her life."

"The more you dally, the less I am charmed."

"Such harsh words," said Sirius, but he was finding that he rather liked her because of her iciness, that also surely concealed something else. "Well, here is my choice. I cannot make it. Obviously it is you who will have to live with the looks if you are the hag by day, and you who will suffer the pangs of reluctant bedding if you are the hag by night. It is you who ought to choose."

Petunia stared at her husband for a long time.

"You knew," she said at last, and then the tears began to slip down her face. She swallowed, and wiped them back furiously. "Thank you. I — do you know what you have done? You have allowed me the independence Sir Vernon believed no man would give, and have broken the curse completely." She stared at herself in the mirror, in amazement. "I will never look like that old hag again."

"Until you are seventy, of course," interjected Sirius, a smile forming on his face. Then the smile froze, and he stared at her. "How old are you?" he asked, sharply.

"Twenty-three," said Petunia. "How old are you ?"

"Twenty-seven," said Sirius, but clearly his mind was somewhere else. "Good God. The wise man was right."

"I should hope he was," said Petunia, and Sirius almost laughed. "Nevertheless, I would appreciate some details."

"I suppose I shall get used to telling you everything," said Sirius, alarmed by how little that concerned him.

"I would not like to hear everything," sniffed Petunia. "For instance: the minor details of each joust, of which I expect there to be many."

Then Sirius laughed outright, which made Petunia feel absurdly pleased.

He said, "A year ago, I met a wise man. He told me 'fifty years would pass' when I met the woman I would marry. I thought he meant from that moment — "

Petunia interrupted him. "You married me thinking it would not go ahead?"

"No!" exclaimed Sirius. "I swear, I had forgotten his words until this moment."

"But you were reluctant," she said, almost teasingly. She had never teased anyone before; that was always something Lily did, whilst Petunia was haughty and distant. But now she was beginning to consider its merits.

"You can hardly blame me," retorted Sirius. "You looked old enough to be my grandmother."

"Many young women marry men old enough to be their grandfather," said Petunia. "I fail to see the difference — "

Sirius laughed again. "You remind me much of the Queen. Which can only bode well for us, as she is one of my closest friends."

"That is hardly surprising," observed Petunia, "as we are sisters."

For the second time that evening, Sirius suffered a shock.

"Queen Lily knew who you were? My God, why did she not tell me?"

Petunia rolled her eyes. "I forbade her, naturally. But that is why she came to see me in the woods. I knew Severus better than she did, and it was my story that gave him the idea for the riddle."

"For three years, the Queen knew you were living in the woods alone, and left you there?"

"The cottage was not so bad once I had all the mirrors removed. And I closed the door in her face whenever she came to offer me the castle as a home," she admitted.

"I would have done the same," Sirius declared, and she turned to smile at him: one of her first smiles in years. He smiled too, and a silence fell over them.

Petunia glanced at the huge bed, then at her new, rather attractive husband, then back at the bed.

"Not to bring up a wise man at what ought to be a — well, you know. Time," said Sirius, his words tripping themselves up as they hasted to be said. "But he was not cryptic about the fact that we would love each other. So in case you feel any apprehension towards this marriage — "

"I do not," said Petunia. "You broke my curse. I would learn to love that wise man himself, if he managed to do it."

"Ah, so my wife is easily won over."

"I am not," said Petunia sharply. "Sirius, it was very noble and difficult to do what you did. I will not hear you make jokes at your expense."

"I shall have to learn a new type of humour to impress you, then," he said, but he looked as if he would not mind doing so. "It was clever of you to let slip that your curse would only be lifted with a man willing to live with your independence — in other words, sovereignty."

"I know," said Petunia, and Sirius laughed. "I have had years to plan that moment. The real risk was whether the man I ended up with would be intelligent enough to pick up on it and see the link with the answer to Severus's riddle."

"Ah, the riddle. Would you like to know what I suggested to King James?"

"Only if it is amusing."

Sirius grinned. "I told him a good tumbling."

Petunia blinked, then began to smile. "Indeed."

"And since I have already given you sovereignty…"

"I suppose I shall have to accept the next best thing."

He was looking at her, of course — he could not stop looking, at her yellow hair and blue eyes and corners of her mouth curled upwards, before she made a sharp comment. "Consider it a second wedding present," said Sirius, moving forward to kiss her.

The next morning, Petunia had been re-introduced to the court as the young and rather attractive woman she really was. The now happy future of Sirius's marriage had led to the knights unleashing all the teasing they felt too guilty to do the day before, and Sirius and Petunia had endured several hours of sly innuendo before their midday meal was over.

Lily, thrilled at her sister's re-transformation, had tried to pull Petunia aside for a private conversation several times during the day, but Petunia had always been occupied.

"Petunia!" called Lily, as she spied her sister going upstairs that afternoon. "Petunia, wait."

She turned around, thankfully. "Lily," she said, surprised. "How are you?"

"I am well," said Lily. "But you are the one who has just been married, and lost half a century. How are you?"

"Well," said Petunia. "It is a great relief to no longer look like an old hag."

Lily laughed. "I shall make certain that the wretched Sir Vernon knows what became of his malice."

Petunia nodded, and glanced up the stairs.

"I hope Sirius will be the husband you deserve," continued Lily, determined to make sure that she had not thrown two people she cared immensely about into a bad marriage. "I know him well, and I think you will understand each other."

"I know him in other ways, and agree," said Petunia, smiling slightly.

Lily, startled at her previously haughty and proper sister's words, and unsure of how to respond, chose to say nothing.

"Did you wish to speak to me?" asked Petunia after a beat. "Because I have somewhere — "

"I always wish to speak with you, Tuney," said Lily. "You are my sister, and I have missed you."

There was a brief pause. Then: "I have missed you too," said Petunia, and Lily, who was already crying, threw her arms around her sister.

"Everything will be happier now," said Lily, between laughs and sobs. "We can play cards on Wednesday evenings, and James and Sirius can tell their stories to a larger audience than just myself. Oh, you must remind me to tell you about the time when Sirius got into a fight with — " she stopped. "Well, speak of the devil, and he will appear."

Sirius appeared at the bottom of the spiral staircase. "Pet, are you — Queen Lily!" he exclaimed. "What a delight."

Lily looked between them, and belatedly realised where Petunia had been in such a hurry to get to this afternoon. "Indeed. Well, I would not want to spoil yours," she said, wondering if spending so much time around the knights had led her to become quite skilled in spotting chances for innuendo herself. "Petunia. Sir Sirius."

"Queen Lily," repeated Sirius.

Lily considered making this more awkward by refusing to leave, but after all, she was not Sirius. "I shall see you both tonight," she said, then left.

Seconds later, she could have sworn she heard her sister giggle, and walked faster.

Three weeks passed, and in a room of the castle, James, Lily, Petunia and Sirius were playing cards. James and Sirius were losing.

"This is outrageous," said Sirius. "You two have won three rounds now. You must be cheating."

"Sirius, you cannot hope to win against two sisters," said Lily. "We know each other's ticks too well."

"Or it is my lord's fault that we are losing," said Sirius bitingly. "And not your skills."

James laughed. "Lily refuses to partner with me," he told Petunia, "because I am such a poor player."

"She is rather good at concocting partnerships," said Petunia musingly. "For instance, she was the link between Sirius and I."

As soon as she said those words, Sirius and Lily stared at each other.

"Very true," said Lily, dragging out the syllables.

Sirius held up a hand. "Not so fast."

"Our wager, Sir Sirius?" continued Lily, ignoring him. "I believe you owe me a pound."

"The wager was to last for a year beginning with the day it was made, making the expiration date the day the King came back."

"And that was the third of the month," said Lily. "Which was when you were married."

"Ah, but the precise words of the bargain were happily married , and — forgive me, love — " he said to Petunia, who shrugged — "it was not a happy marriage until she became her true self."

Lily smiled. "And when precisely was that, would you say?"

Sirius snorted. "Impossible to say. Some time during the night. It could well have been after midnight, which would mean it was a year and a day from when we made the wager."

"False," chirped Lily, a triumphant look filling her features. "If I recall correctly — "

"Which I am sure you do," said Sirius.

" — The feast ended early, after the poor taste and unfortunate volume of Sir Fabian's comment. Tuney, how long would you estimate it took for Sirius to break your curse?"

"I set him on it almost immediately," said Petunia. "Within twenty minutes of us being alone, at most."

Lily looked as if she had been planning this speech for weeks. She was devious enough that Sirius suspected she had, and had fed James and Petunia lines of dialogue that would raise in conversation the wager, following which she could then explain and proclaim her victory.

"I will be generous and assume twenty minutes," said Lily. "The feast ended early and three courses were not served, so we may estimate it ended one hour from midnight. It takes eight minutes to walk to Sirius's quarters. Factor in any dread you were feeling to increase that to ten. Adding twenty minutes, as Petunia estimates, brings it to eleven-thirty." She paused. "Not quite midnight."

James whistled low. "Sirius, it appears you have been defeated. Cough up, if you please."

Sirius grumbled, but dug out a pound and pushed it on the table towards Lily, who smiled graciously and pocketed it.

"Is it too early to declare that I shall win our next wager too?" asked Lily.

Petunia snorted. "You only won this time because Sirius did not have my help. I would have delayed insisting you kiss me until after midnight if only you had told me about this," she said, turning to Sirius. "The loss of that pound was entirely your fault."

"I am sure it was," said Sirius. "You hear that, my lady? I only lost because I did not have Petunia. In the future, any outcomes are sure to be different."

"But every triumph you two have ultimately has me to thank," said Lily, stubborn as ever. "I brought you together."

Sirius was unconvinced. "If you go to those extremes, then really that traitor Sir Severus brought us together. And my lord's recklessness."

"But Severus mostly wanted to kill James because of me," Lily shot back, then turned to give James a guilty look. "I should have told you," she said, somberly. "But I did not think he was important. I did not think that our happiness could ever be spoiled."

"And you were right," said James, forgiving as ever. "I rather think it has been strengthened. Although if you had told me about Sir Severus, then I would have at least have had a sword when I trespassed on his land."

Lily beamed at him. "I am sure you would have done magnificently even if you were unarmed, and there was no Petunia to tell us the answer to the riddle." She turned back to Sirius and Petunia. "But the fact remains that if not for me, Sirius would never have found someone willing to talk down to him, and Petunia would never have found someone who accepted her strong-mindedness and suited her so well."

"I do agree that we are well suited," said Petunia. "So I cannot argue with that."

Sirius smiled. "Nor would I want to."

A/N: Endless thanks for reading this piece of insanity! You can always find me on Tumblr or over at AO3 under the same username. Please leave a review if you'd like, and thanks again for indulging my crackfic madness!