"Okay, so the toaster lets you talk to someone?"

"No, no, the toaster makes toast. The telephone lets you talk to someone."

"Well then what does the waffle iron do?"

"It makes waffles. You put the batter in it and press down and then it's a waffle."

"Okay, so then what's a soda?" James Potter asked, leaning back against the chair, staring at Lily Evans as he tried not to run a hand through his unruly black hair, knowing it irritated her.

Lily, a girl with long red hair and bright green eyes who had held James Potter's affections for many years, chuckled, "A soda is a drink. It's got caffeine, and it usually tastes sweet."

"And then a computer does…what again?"

"A computer…is actually pretty hard to explain," she pursed her lips, and James inwardly winced. "A computer, itself, is a device where you can write things or research things."

"And then what's a – "

"James," she interrupted, "Don't you take Muggle Studies?"

"Yes, but Professor Herbish is boring," he sighed, slumping lower into his seat and bouncing his leg in boredom, "He's not as pretty as you." He stopped bouncing his leg in horror as he realized what he said. He'd passed into that territory. The forbidden territory he swore he'd never pass into the moment he and Lily Evans became friends, afraid he'd run her off.

She snorted, rolling her eyes, "I'm glad for that fact then. Merlin knows I've been worried about him beating me in the Hogwarts Annual Beauty Pageant. Thank you for putting my mind at rest, James."

He grinned at her, "You're welcome, Lily." Staying silent for a moment, he figured that now was as good a time as any, when she was in a good mood and her wand was in another room. "You know, I bet you will definitely win that pageant."

"I hope so," she said, watching as she scribbled on a paper, "I've put too many hours into my talent to waste it."

"What's that?"

She stopped scribbling on the paper before wadding it up and tossing it into her room, where the door was open, "Nothing."

"Oh come on, you must have one," he grinned at her, "Reading? Writing? Potion making?"

"Drawing," she mumbled, "I draw."

"You do?" he asked, actually interested in this one.

"Yes," she started scribbling again, "I do."

"What do you draw?"

She stopped scribbling again, "People."

"What type of people?"

She started scribbling again, bending her head down so he lost sight of her eyes, and mumbled, "My friends."

"Really?" he seemed pleasantly surprised at this answer, "Who all have you drawn?"

"Marlene, Alice, Frank, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Mary, Hestia," she listed, "And a whole bunch of others."

"Any of me?" he asked, grinning and leaning towards her, setting his chin on his fist.

She growled in frustration before leaping forward and sitting on the armrest of the couch, closer to James, "Don't move." She reached into her bag and pulled out a pencil and an eraser, as well as a pad of drawing paper. She glanced at him for a second, frowning when she saw that one of his eyebrows was quirked up, "James, I said – don't move." She reached over and guided the eyebrow down to where she wanted it before going back to her paper. With a quick glance back up at James, she began to draw.

Trying to ignore the tingling feeling from her touch, he kept his eyes on her and asked, "Can I talk?"

"Don't move too much, and you can," she said, glancing up at him once more.

"Why am I now a statue?"

"Whenever I draw people, I draw them from memory," she glanced up at him again, "Sirius was the easiest to draw, and not just from the fact that he bugs me everyday, but also from the fact that his face is very simple."

James chuckled, "I think he'd love to hear that."

"But whenever I try to draw you, it turns out wrong," she frowned at the picture, "The lighting, the shading, the proportions, the anatomy – "

"There is nothing wrong with my anatomy!" he yelped, still trying to stay frozen.

She laughed, "No, I meant by your face structure or the shoulders or chest. I always draw portraits, James."

"Then say that!"

She laughed again, glancing up at him with a smile on her face. And with the twitch of his mouth, James went back to being a statue.

An hour and a half later, Lily sighed and stretched her arms up over her head, looking content with herself as she looked over at James, "You can relax now."

"Merlin," he groaned as he stretched out, "My hand went numb, then got feeling back, and then went numb again."

She held the picture out to look at it, and James leapt forward to look as well. On it was a paper James staring back at them, black and grey and all the shades in between, a white background around him. She glanced at the side of his face anxiously, waiting for approval, "I'll draw in a Quidditch pitch later."

"It looks great now," he told her, finally grinning.

She grinned back, "I'm glad you like it. Want to see the others?"

"Are you kidding?" he blinked at her, his grin spreading wider, "I'd love to!"

She grinned back and stood up from the couch, taking her supplies and going to her room. A minute later she came back with what looked like a thin, black briefcase. She motioned for James to sit properly on the couch and he did so, allowing her to unzip the case and spread it open. There were clear little pouches that each held pictures the same way a photo album would, front to back.

The first showed a woman James had never met, smiling up at a man he'd never met, who was grinning back at her as his static arms were wrapping around her.

"That's my mum and dad," she informed him, taking the arm rest closest to him.

He nodded to show that he'd heard her before turning it over. There were two young girls, the eldest with straight, perfectly parted hair and a solemn expression, while the youngest was beaming, her hair crazy and all over the place.

"That's me and Petunia," Lily told him, looking rather sad, "Before she turned into a great big prat."

"I'm sorry," James said, looking up at her, "You two looked really close."

"We used to be," she pursed her lips before shrugging, turning her head away, "But things change."

He was silent for a moment, debating on whether or not to bring him up and into the conversation…but in the end he went back to the pictures, now one of Remus, who was frowning down at a book as he sat on a hillside.

"I can almost hear him," James grinned, "Prongs, we have a Defense Against the Dark Arts test next month, and I have to study for it!"

"That is what he said," she grinned back, "Once you asked him when he was going to stop being a pansy."

James laughed and flipped the page, showing a grinning Frank and Alice, his arm wrapped around her and her giving James the peace sign. The next page showed Marlene, standing proudly with her broom and beaming, looking thirteen or so, the same age she joined the Quidditch team. Another flip and Peter was looking curiously at him, a chocolate frog dangling out of his mouth. He smirked and looked over to see that Sirius was crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out. A flip and Mary and Hestia were sharing a page, grinning at each other. James' new picture was next to them.

"All of these are brilliant," he told her, "Have you thought of doing it for money?"

"I have," she frowned, "But I wouldn't want to turn something I love into a dull hum. I'll draw when I feel like it, thank you."

He chuckled, "You'll do anything when you feel like it, won't you?"

She pressed her lips and hummed, "Not all the time."

"Maybe you should start, I'm sure you'd be brilliant at anything you do," he said as he closed the portfolio and set it aside.

"Hmm," she hummed again, "Alright."

James turned around to smile at her and joke about her being the Great and Powerful Lily, but he was stopped when her lips were on his, soft and warm and tasting like strawberries. James crossed his eyes and blinked at her before slowly kissing her back, pulling her away from the armrest and into him, closing his eyes.

He was right, he realized, Lily Evans was brilliant at anything she did. His hand wound up into her hair, brushing it away from her face as one of her hands played with his hair, the other tracing designs on his neck. Breaking apart for air, they studied each other, both with wild hair and faint blushes.

"You said to do something when I felt like it," she whispered to him, her breath even smelling like strawberries, "And I did."

"And you were brilliant at it," he replied.

The corner of her mouth twitched before James leaned forward again, capturing her lips with his.

Lily sighed against James' bare chest, listening to his breathing slow as she picked her head up to look at him.

"You're still brilliant at anything you try, Lily," he said as he leaned up on an elbow to kiss her temple, making her smile.

"Says you, Mister Potter," she murmured, "Just wait until the lake freezes over, then you'll see how rubbish I am at ice skating."

"I don't know, Missus Potter," he grinned against her skin, his hand traveling up her arm to her shoulder to pull her closer to him, "I still think you're brilliant."

"I think you're brilliant too," she whispered back, moving her head to tuck it under his chin, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Could be why we got married, hmm?" he hummed as he rubbed circles on her back. She hummed her agreement as she closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat, steady and strong.

"Oh, Harry, please hold still," Lily said to her son, "You're just like your father – I can't draw either of you unless you're immobile."

Harry, the wiggly toddler, gurgled at his mother, who smiled back as she moved from the chair in front of the easel to down on the floor, laying on her stomach and setting her paper and pencil in front of her.

"Oh Harry," she sighed sadly, setting her chin on her arms as she kicked her feet up in the air, "I wish we could go outside, the lighting's so much better. But I don't want anything to happen to you, so we'll stay here. But, still, you're going to miss your real first Halloween. It's tomorrow, you know."

Harry gurgled again as he crawled towards her, having her smile and sit up to hold him.

"Oh, I don't care, at least you and James and all our friends are safe, so what's the point in missing a silly ol' holiday? We've still got Christmas and New Year's to look forward to, and you can get bunches and bunches of presents on Christmas. Trust me, if your birthday stands for anything, I doubt our family and friends will leave Santa anything to give you."

Harry gave a yawn as Lily rocked him back and forth, having her smile and lean forward to kiss his forehead, "I love you, Harry, honey."

James smiled from leaning against the doorway, his wife and son still completely oblivious to him, before he walked to the living room and grabbed a camera from the table, rushing back to the office and snapping a picture of Lily rocking Harry. Turning back in the hall to get the picture from the camera and look at it, he heard Lily whisper, "Finally, now I can draw you." Smiling as he heard the rustling paper, he walked to the living room and picked up what looked like a thin, black briefcase, opening it up and sliding the moving picture in the next blank slot, which was next to a static drawn picture of James, sleeping on the couch and curled around Harry, who was also asleep. Chuckling, he closed her portfolio and slid it back into place.

Remus sat in the dark in his living room, staring at all the pictures Lily had drawn. He never knew Lily could draw until a few days ago, when Dumbledore had handed him the briefcase looking thing – he'd called it a portfolio – and walked off. He had no idea what was in it or what it really was, for that matter. And he couldn't bring himself to care at that moment. He could only realize that his friends were dead, and that Sirius was in jail and he'd never see Harry again. It was a few days later that curiosity finally got the better of him and he'd opened it, and every day since then he'd stared at a picture until it was burned into the back of his eyes and into his memory.

Flipping through them all instead of going through the normal routine, he stopped at the back, seeing James curled around Harry and Lily rocking her son. Zipping it up and putting it underneath his bed, he pulled on his coat and Apparated out of his apartment.

Godric's Hollow was freezing, despite it being November, and he felt that there was no better atmosphere that matched how he felt right then. He walked past the ruins of the Potter's old house, closing his eyes as he did and going straight to the cemetery. Walking over to the two freshly dug graves, he stopped and stared at Lily and James' names.

Waving his wand, a magical pen appeared in his hand. He shook it and leaned towards the gravestone, watching as the gold ink flowed and formed the words he wanted to say. Looking at his handiwork once it was done, he turned and walked away.

Goodbye was soon vanishing away, never to be seen by the Boy Who Lived or the brightest witch of the next generation.

Harry stared down at the pictures, unknowingly in the exact same place Remus had sat when he had stared at the pictures. Flipping a page, he saw the slightly yellowing paper and the drawings, a dead spider near the opening of the portfolio.

Another page, and he saw James staring up at him, his chin on his hand. Another page, and Sirius was getting ready to tackle James and Remus into a pile of leaves. The next was a man from the first page explaining to his father about something, although James looked like he didn't really get it. Then there was a wrinkly newborn sleeping in a crib, and Harry realized that it had been him. A picture of Harry's first Christmas as James gave Harry a candy cane to drool over, Sirius and Remus in the background and getting ready to snatch one themselves off the tree. A picture of Sirius dressed as a pilgrim, arguing with Remus, and Harry guessed that they were arguing about whether Thanksgiving was for Americans or not. A picture of Sirius opening Harry's present – a broom – and James' horrified face in the background, Remus looking frozen as well as Peter looked at Sirius as if he were insane.

Soon, he was at the back, looking at the picture of James curled around a sleeping Harry, and Lily rocking Harry back and forth, smiling and talking sweetly to him.

Closing up the portfolio and zipping it, he put it inside his jacket and headed out the door, wondering if Hermione knew a way to fix the pictures without hurting them.