Chapter 1

Lily Evans really missed Hogwarts. On days like this, she missed the camaraderie of her classmates, a castle to explore and sprawling grounds to ramble around. She missed the distraction always having people there, around you. It was difficult to get privacy in Hogwarts, but these days all she had was solitude.

Her field assignment had taken her out of the Order meetings which had been her last contact with the world. At the time, she had been happy to leave the awkwardness and tension that pervaded any room which held her and James Potter, but recently she had begun to miss those small moments which had provided some relief from the War.

Lily pulled her hair back as she walked, boots splashing through the rain. The morning was grey and drizzling. She had taken her flat close to the Ministry so that she could walk to work in the mornings, but it had turned out to be one of the worst summers in living memory and now that the days were getting shorter she found herself walking to and from work under darkening skies.

The Main Atrium was bustling busy as always. Usually Lily liked to arrive early for work. The conveniences of magic and floo powder ensured that everyone arrived for work in the two minutes before nine o'clock, clogging up the Atrium and causing pandemonium. Lily found that the more solitary a life she lived, the less she could cope with large crowds. She comforted herself with the assurance that it was safer for her to stay out of sight. In order to walk to work she had to wear Muggle clothing and it suited her usually to wear them at her work as well. Nobody in the Department of Mysteries paid attention to something as small as clothing anyway, not when they were brooding over the nature of life, love, and knowledge. But she always attracted quite a bit of attention when she went to get lunch or when entering and leaving through the main Atrium.

There were so many times that she wondered why she was on this assignment. An internship in the Department of Mysteries was a dangerous job, it was true, and Unspeakables were always being attacked and tortured for information. Dumbledore had told her that she needed to report on the level of infiltration in the Ministry, but she spent all her time holed up in Mysteries. She could not think of a worse person to infiltrate the Wizarding world than a working-class Muggleborn. She did, however, understand the need to guard the Department of Mysteries. Twice she had felt the Imperius Curse take hold of her, the sweet soothing voices urging her to let them in, just let go, it's fine. With great difficulty she had always managed to shake them off, but she watched her co-workers sharply for signs of the curse. The Department had issued Occlumency lessons to every unspeakable on appointment and Lily firmly believed that these had helped her to defend herself against the Imperius.

She took the empty lift down to Mysteries. The slick stone walls reminded her of Hogwarts Castle and despite the dim light and dampness she found it quite comforting. There was something about old magic and stones, she mused. They went together so well.

The Love Rooms were warm and pulsing. She hurried past the locked door that housed the True Love Room but felt the little pulse of energy it sent through her. This was her favourite part of the day, when the magic in the rooms soaked into her skin and warmed her heart. She pulled off her coat and started work. The Love Rooms contained huge fountains of love potions, and her skills at potion-making allowed her to progress to making the most difficult of potions after only a year working there. It was taxing work, and she passed the morning immersed in her batch of Amortentia. By late afternoon, however, her mind had started to wander. Her colleagues were all dour, gloomy people. When she had started this work, she had alienated and bored by their attitudes, but then again when she started work she had friends, a boyfriend. She would laugh at James' imitations of her supervisor Deckley, with his plodding step and dour expression. But she had found much respect for her colleagues in the year she had worked there, and she could now work with them comfortably.

By the time that five o'clock came around she was thinking about nothing but dinner and a glass of wine. She hurried out of the office with her head bowed low and her arms braced herself around her. The energy in the room diminished as she passed. This was the worst part of her day, the moment when she was sapped of all the love she had felt so strongly that morning. She felt utterly drained as she leant on the wall for support. Fumbling around in her pockets, she found her daily square of chocolate and popped it into her mouth. It gave her the strength to continue on her way home.

The Atrium was busier than she expected. She noticed a lot of Aurors milling around, queuing for fires, and suspected that there must have been an attack somewhere. This was the kind of thing Dumbledore would probably want her to investigate, she thought. Then again, he had enough of the Auror Department in the Order that there couldn't possibly be a need for her to blow her cover by asking questions.

She dodged a former classmate, a large Ravenclaw who raised a surprised eyebrow at her jeans and red jacket as a hand circled her wrist and tugged.

"Lily."

It wasn't fair, Lily often thought, that she could be doing something completely mundane and suddenly he would be there, like a sudden gust of wind made flesh. She stared at the grey robes and the Trainee Auror badge pinned to his chest. James Potter looked older, but stronger. His eyes caught hers so unexpectedly that she felt momentarily winded.

"What?" she bit out. It came out so harsher than she had intended.

James looked a little lost for words. He dug his hands into his pockets. "I don't know. I suppose I just…wanted to say hello."

"Oh," she said softly.

"You haven't been to any meetings recently." He dropped his voice at the mention of the Order.

"I'm on assignment," she said quietly. She wondered if he could tell that she was lying.

"I know," he shrugged. "So is Moony. He's infiltrated his…kind. Haven't heard anything of him in six weeks."

"Dumbledore mentioned." She paused awkwardly. "How is everyone?"

"Alright, I s'pose. Considering."

"Yeah," she said, softly. "Considering."

"We're having a bit of a get-together Sunday," he hedged. "For the McKinnon's anniversary. At HQ. You should come." He took a deep breath. "You shouldn't feel like you can't come because we broke up."

"Maybe," she sighed. Merlin, did he have to catch her now? With all of the love in the world drained out of her less than ten minutes ago?

James stared at her searchingly. She noticed the circles under his eyes and the two-day stubble around his jawline.

"You're starting to look like one," he said quietly. "An Unspeakable. You've got that same expression."

She couldn't help it; she felt her blood boil a little. She opened her mouth to retort that he didn't know what he was talking about, but the words wouldn't come. The Fidelius Charm was unforgiving when it came to a single word about her job, something which she knew James couldn't understand.

He tilted his head to the side to try to read her eyes. "You'd tell someone though, right? If you weren't…fine?"

She nodded her head mutely and he sighed with frustration. A voice reverberated around the room. "POTTER!"

The pair jumped and turned to look at Mad-Eye Moody clunking towards them. "Have you gone deaf?" he roared. "You're the last one!"

Lily looked around her and noticed that all the Aurors had disappeared.

"Coming!" James called, and turned back to her, leaving Moody grumbling and tapping his wooden leg in impatience. "Try and come, won't you? Everyone's worried about you."

She gave a sad little smile that she hoped would mollify him briefly. He seemed mildly satisfied by that.

"POTTER!"

"I have to…"

"Yeah, er, go on then."

He hesitated for a minute, looking unsure of how to say goodbye. When he had gone on his first Auror mission, she had kissed him hard and begged him to stay safe, but she couldn't do that anymore.

"Try not to die, Potter," she said awkwardly.

"You too," he said seriously, and she remembered how much more dangerous his life was to hers. He fought the bad guys, he saved lives. She brewed fake love in a dungeon all day every day.

James turned sharply on his heel and caught up with Moody, who was berating him with relish. Lily watched until he had disappeared through the fire before heading home herself, for a glass of wine and a long cry.

Lily had no intention of going to the McKinnon's anniversary. She had suffered through the funerals in torture, and she felt that the event was probably only an excuse for James and his friends to get everyone drunk. She had once loved their ability to lift everybody's spirits, but that had been when they were young and naïve. Before they had seen so much carnage and violence.

And of everyone, the McKinnons? After everything that they that been through in trying to save them!

She was deeply glad that Dumbledore summoned her for a meeting that Saturday night. She arrived at the Shrieking Shack five minutes early, but he was already waiting for her. It always startled Lily that Dumbledore could make even the ratty setting of the Shack look almost regal. It had been many months since she had last seen him; her Patronus usually sufficed as a messenger if anything interesting occurred.

"Miss Evans," Dumbledore smiled and gestured to a tatty armchair with most of the stuffing ripped out.
"Please make yourself comfortable."

Lily sat down gingerly at the edge of the armchair and accepted gratefully the cup of tea that glided across the room to her. "How are you, Professor?"

"A little older, but then again who among us can say elsewise." He surveyed her carefully. "I thought, perhaps, Lily, you'd like to have someone to talk to."

"What about?" she asked worriedly. The idea of spilling her guts to her old Headmaster filled her with slowly mounting dread.

"About your mission," he said simply. "I am the only other member of the Order with whom you can freely speak about your daily life."

"There's nothing to say. I brew Amortentia from nine-to-five," she shrugged. "I try to find things out, Professor, I really do, but it's hard to find excuses to leave the Department during work hours and nobody wants to give classified information to a Muggleborn, it-" she stopped when Dumbledore raised his hand.

"I fear you think I brought you here for some manner of reprimand. Let me make it quite clear that I am more than satisfied with your work to date. You have put yourself in considerable danger even in continuing to work in the Ministry of Magic."

"Er…thanks, Professor."

Dumbledore surveyed her over his half-moon spectacles. "You are living alone now."

"I am," she said quietly.

"I am always curious. As a Muggleborn, do you often revert back to the Muggle way of things when left to your own devices?"

"More and more," she admitted. "I find it comforting. I still use magic, of course, but I do like to wait for things to take their own time sometimes. I certainly do things the Muggle way a lot more often than I did when…"

She trailed off awkwardly. She had meant to say when she was staying with James, practically living with James, but she didn't really want to talk about her extramarital cohabitation with Dumbledore. She hoped that he thought she was alluding to her time at Hogwarts. Regardless, he simply smiled gently and nodded.

"And now, Lily, I think we must be going. We have made ourselves fashionably late enough. Mustn't keep anyone waiting. I'm sure Sturgis will be closing the wards soon."

"Sturgis?" she faltered. The current Order of the Phoenix was convening these days in the magically enhanced garden shed on Sturgis Podmore's property. Dumbledore looked at her expectantly, and her protests died weakly in her throat.

"Everyone will be so glad to see you," Dumbledore smiled. He nodded to her, and she sighed a little inwardly. Had she even bothered to brush her hair this morning?

She Apparated, feeling the pull around her naval and hearing the whoosh of air that signaled Dumbledore's Apparition. She dimly wondered if he had waited for her to go first, to make sure she would go. As if she would have defied Dumbledore.

It was a very pretty sight, the old ramshackle garden. The old shed was lit up with candles in the windows, and there were pretty twinkling lights hung around the garden.

"You're drunk." James throws his arm sloppily over her shoulder, pulling her a little closer. She lets him, bumping a little against his chest.

It's nice.

"Am not," she argues, showing him her full glass to prove it.

"You are." He grins wickedly. "Saintly Lily Evans is totally sloshed. Trollied, pissed as a fart, Tarty."

"I'm not tarty!" she proclaims, pretending to act shocked. "I'm wearing jeans."

"You are tarty, you tart. Look at you." James tugs on a ringlet. "You've gone and curled your hair and everything. And make-up, who'd have thought?"

He presses a sloppy kiss to her neck. It tickles a little, and she giggles. "Shut up, you berk, or I'll never dress up for you again."

"As long as it's only for me," he grins, and kisses her. They are interrupted by the appearance of Peter at the door.

"Prongs!" he squeaks. "You're missing your own party."

James smiles a little woozily and kisses her quickly again before leaving, his hands dragging across her neck. "Smashing party, Evans," he murmurs into her hair.

"Glad you think so, Potter," she murmurs. "Now, go on ahead. I have to sober up and fix my hair."

"Leave it like that," he growls. "'Lets everyone know you're mine."

"Am I a commodity?" she protests, and shoos him out. He stumbles slightly at the door.

She sees him move through the hall and into the kitchen. There is only an inch or two of the kitchen that she can see, but she sees James stumbling through with his arms raised in some kind of victory stance, and she hears his friends roar in celebration.

"He's got a point," the shadows say.

Lily jumps back, throws her hand to her throat. "Fuck, Marlene! What are you doing?"

"Looking for fags," Marlene says. She rubs her right hand through her hair absently. "Dung left some here I think."

"How bad are you, searching through everyone's belongings?"

"How bad are you, snogging in a bedroom, dressed like a tart!" Marlene shoots back, without much venom.

"You're one to talk," Lily argues. "You look like a biker."

"Screw you."

Lily sighs, and the world spins a little. "My fags are in the kitchen."

"Too far away."

Lily flops onto the bed, feeling a little ill. "I feel a little ill," she tells Marlene. She drops her hand to the mattress and pulls up a pack of Major.

"How desperate are you?" she asks, and throws the pack to the other girl.

Marlene grins and tears the pack open. She lies down beside Lily, and lights up.

Lily watches the smoke rings make circles in the air. The smell of Majors is oddly comforting. She thinks of her dad.

All around her, the walls thump with the heavy bass of music and the stomping of Peter's dancing. The room is cool and dark, however, and she feels her eyes closing. Marlene's arm is warm and solid pressed into her side, and she drifts off.

"Lily…Lily…" James' whispers draw her out of her muffled sleep. "Come on."

"Marls…" she murmurs groggily.

"Bugger off," Marlene moans.

James smiles tipsily at her. His hair is sticking up and his glasses are crooked. Lily thinks he looks very inviting, as she falls into his chest and buries her head under his chin.

James surveys Marlene skeptically

"Leave her," Lily mutters, knowing Marlene'shumourwhen she hadn't had enough sleep. They stumble into a taxi, being far too drunk for Apparation or Floos, and leave Marlene on the bed, gently snoring, eyeliner smeared across her cheek.

And that is it.

The party was not as loud as Lily expected. In fact, it appeared to be very solemn. Moody informed her, briskly and almost indifferently, that they had lost another member the night before. George Dimmer, a scared, quiet boy Lily remembered after a lot of thought, hiding in the background of their meetings. Nobody really felt like a party anymore, but it is customary enough to group together after these tragedies happen.

She stood by a picture of Marlene's father smiling and waving, and did a very good impression of a wall. People patted her on the shoulder, but she supposed that she didn't look much like chatting. Sirius Black, one of his eyes bruised mauve, had swirled a measure of brandy into her tea and stalked off. She didn't see James, but Peter was there, avoiding her eyes for fear, she assumed, of how he was supposed to act around her.

She spotted Minerva McGonagall, who politely asked her how she was doing. Without an ability to talk about her career, they fumbled for a safe subject. Minerva seemed unwilling to talk about Hogwarts, and Lily about London.

They were both relieved, therefore, when Mundungus Fletcher made his entrance, landing sprawled on the carpet in a drunken stupor.

Lily offered to take him, partly to figure out how on earth he had managed to Apparate in his state, but also to get away from everyone. She brought him to a little bedroom used for those after missions and cleaned him up, swatting away his attempted slobberings and tucking him in when he succumbed to sleep.

"Found yourself a new boyfriend?" she heard a snide voice from the doorway. Sirius was leaning against the doorframe, with his mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. There was something not right about the way he was holding himself, and though she could not tell what it was, Lily knew that somewhere other than his eye was hurting him.

She stood up, feeling offended beyond belief. "Would it matter, Black?" She felt her jaw clenching. "I'm a single woman."

Sirius snorted, and she narrowed her eyes. "What's your problem?" she demanded him.

She could tell he wanted a fight, and she knew that she was a good person from whom to get one. "My problem is you," he stated simply. "In here fussing over a drunken layabout when-"

"When what?" she demanded.

"When James isn't here yet!" he thundered, and it was his choice to call him James that chilled here more than his tone.

"It's barely dark, Black," she tried to reason with him, because really, no-one else seemed to be worried.

"It doesn't matter," Sirius argued. "Once upon a time you would have been worried with me."

"Once upon a time I'd have been by his side," she spat, and to her horror, felt her eyes prick. "He made it quite clear that he didn't want me to worry about him anymore."

She swept passed him with as much dignity as she could, but she felt him grab her arm as she passed. "You could have tried harder."

It was a dirty dig, and they both knew it. When she fought with Black it always went two steps too far. James could fight with him and see, even through the sharp digs, the fear and desperation behind his eyes. Lily never let herself look.

Stonily, she tore her elbow from his grasp and stalked out of the room.

She was no longer in the mood to stand around quietly. She wanted to pace, to storm. She went from room to room, clenching her fists in frustration until she found herself in the main room where everyone was congregated. Ahead of her, she could see James Potter, with a bruised jaw and tired eyes but clearly alive and well.

She glared at his profile until she realised that people were watching her, and then she decided she needed a cigarette.

The poor cigarette hadn't done anything to her, but it paid for her ire by being squeezed, twisted and eventually stamped upon. The smoke was bitter in her lungs, and the acrid smell reminded her of Marlene.

She couldn't leave without paying her respects, especially not after…

Lily went back into the shed, making a beeline for the back room.