Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews, birthday wishes, and poll votes that were submitted. I'm not quite happy with this chapter. It was reworked five or six times until I could bring myself to post it without feeling like I'd be letting myself down if I let people read it. I've never delved into the darker side of the Lily/James story before, and it's fun to write, but it's also a little daunting because I want to do it justice. I hope you all enjoy it, and that I didn't ramble on for too long, because I believe this is the longest single chapter I've ever written.
I meant to display the last poll results on my profile, along with the new poll, but apparently they won't let you, so although all of the girls I mentioned will appear in this story, the name of Lily's best friend will be revealed somewhere in this chapter. And the new poll is up and waiting!
CHAPTER TWO
Mother Knows Best
July 28th, 1976
Dear Four Eyes,
I always knew you'd stoop to stalking and prowling one day like a great big creep. You've got that look about you, you know? Untrustworthy. Demonic. Bespectacled. Of course, I know everything and I remain surprised by my own remarkable foresight, as always. Even if I wasn't so brilliant and clever, I would have seen this one coming. The simplest simpleton could have seen this one coming. You're unhinged. And you're a creep.
If I were you I wouldn't tell Lupin about your stalking. He still thinks you're better than that for some reason. Poor bloke.
I'm going to have to be completely honest with you, and maybe this will shatter a couple of your grand illusions, but Lily has never acknowledged you or brought you up in conversation. I've been informed of your gargantuan desire to shag the girl, you big fat virgin, so I know that might be a stinging blow to your ego. Please refrain from crying and throwing yourself off a roof. Worse revelations are still to come, darling idiot. This hurts me as much as it hurts you, but I must remain sincere to the last and reveal the truth. I recently asked Lily for her opinion of you, and her response seems to indicate that you're not likely to be on the receiving end of any wonderful handmade Christmas cards this December. To put it bluntly, Speccy, she doesn't like you, and that's why I'm not sure how I feel about surrendering her address to your spotty, adolescent clutches. Lily and I have been friends for a while. It'd be an outright betrayal on my part.
It's a pity about the Christmas cards, though. They're really lovely. She puts the effort in.
Right, well, it's been a couple of hours since I put down my quill to sort out dinner for the baby, and things have happened. Many of those things aren't related to the topic at hand, but one of them is. I just got a letter from Aunty D. She pointed out that you're not planning kidnap (and reminded me that you're not my sister) and she also told me that she's the one who told you to write to me. Consider your claim verified. I feel obliged to oblige you. I'm intimidated by your mother, James. Her shoes alone make me feel inadequate.
I should really stop writing and get to the point. I've ignored my real life for long enough. I'll skip the usual pleasantries because it's very clear that you have absolutely no interest in how me or my family are doing because you're a selfish twit (love you). Lily's address is 16 Thimble Terrace, Cokeworth, which is somewhere near Manchester. I don't have the postcode nor do you need it, so bugger off, prat.
Do as Aunty D commands, eat your vegetables, give Sirius a big fat kiss from me and be nice to Lily.
Love Always,
A
PS. I agree with Sirius. You are afraid of your Mum (but then, so is he). x
"Is this the address she gave you?"
"Think so," James replied, with little enthusiasm.
"I'd rather you knew so than thought so, sweetheart."
He did know so, and she knew he knew so. He didn't need to consult the letter again to prove it to her. His memory had always been razor sharp. He could read or hear something once and remember it with perfect clarity, and it didn't matter what it was. Birthdays, addresses, minor details of goblin rebellions of the seventeenth century, potion ingredients – nothing was too much for him. He was a clever thing. His recent exam results stood as testament to his prowess.
His mother knew all of this, but had forced him to take the letter along, lest he deliberately bring her to the wrong house. He hadn't wanted to come with her and made no secret of it.
Unless his accomplice had greatly deceived him, Lily Evans lived in a very small house. It was made of bright red brick, and terraced, one in a long row of identical homes wedged tightly together without an inch of space to breathe. Like a row of books on a too-small shelf. It was a very neat and tidy house, with a little front garden full of wilted flowers. No plant could survive in the unusually oppressive summer heat. Many houses on the road, however, were decidedly dilapidated. It occurred to James that Lily Evans came from a working class family. That was surprising. Lily Evans spoke so well and could put on such high-and-mighty airs. He wouldn't have placed her here.
James pointed to the right. "That sign over there says 'Thimble Terrace', and I'm fairly sure there's only one of those in Cokeworth."
His mother gave him a long, discerning look of appraisal. He tried to ignore her, choosing instead to watch a group of small children who were playing an amiable game of Red Rover in the middle of the road, demonstrating their superhuman ability to bear the intense heat in a way that adults simply could not. Eventually, though, he couldn't ignore the subtle arch of one impeccably sculpted eyebrow. His mother wasn't impressed by his apathy. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged, pretending not to care.
James did care. He cared very much indeed, but allowing his mother to share in his feelings would not have made him much of a teenager.
Dorea Potter was a handsome woman and took great pride in that fact. Intelligent enough to know that robes were not suitable for a trip to an area with a Muggle-heavy population, she nonetheless refused to allow that fact to prevent her from visiting in style. She wore a black velvet dress which had been the height of fashion in the nineteen-forties, diamonds, gloves, and an unnecessarily large, feathered hat. She looked like a glamourous funeral attendee. It wasn't the right thing to wear to call at someone's house in the middle of a heatwave, and any Muggle passing might have wondered why she appeared so comfortable, and why not a single bead of sweat was visible on her meticulously made up face. Dorea Potter was not just a handsome woman, but a brazen show-off. James had inherited that particular trait from her.
"Are you really going to stay in that grouchy mood all day?" she asked, having finished her silent scrutiny. James immediately scowled to prove her point.
"I'm not in a mood."
"You are in a mood."
"No, I'm not in a mood."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"You're annoyed about that letter, aren't you?" said his mother amusedly. "She was joking, for Merlin's sake. You know you're not remotely spotty."
"Bloody hell, Mum, I'm not annoyed, alright?" His mood might have improved if his mother would stop provoking him with her endless questions. "It's just the heat getting to me. I'm honestly fine."
This at least was true. James was sweating so much that his t-shirt was sticking to his torso. He peeled it away and made a big show of flapping it about to cool himself down. Across the road, a small group of middle-aged women had gathered around somebody's dustbin as if it was a Portkey about to whisk them away, and they were staring at them both with great interest. James was dressed in simple, suitable Muggle attire, so he and his mother made for a comically mismatched pair.
"I don't want you to be rude to these people, James."
"I won't be rude."
"You're not on good terms with their daughter as it is."
"I won't be rude."
"Given the circumstances, they might be wary of us. I don't want you giving them the wrong impression. Are you sure she knows that you're in support of -"
"Yes, she does know. Everyone knows. I'll be a perfect gentleman," James promised. He rolled his eyes when his mother did not look convinced. "I swear."
"Swear on what?"
"On my Nimbus."
"Not good enough."
"On my wand."
"Still not good enough."
"On my hair, then."
"That's acceptable." His mother pushed open the little black gate and swept up the cobbled garden path with incredible grace and balance, considering the teetering high-heeled shoes she was wearing. "Come along then, and if your hair falls out in the night it'll be entirely your fault."
James threw a glance over his shoulder at the assembled gossips at the dustbin. Since they had nothing better to do with their time than watch him, he gave them a wave, pushed his glasses up his nose and followed his mother like a prisoner walking to his execution. He felt like a naughty child. He tried to look through the front window to see if anyone was inside, but the sunlight bounced off it with such a glare that he found it impossible.
His mother rapped smartly on the door with her knuckles and they waited side-by-side for somebody to come and greet them. Nobody came, however. Dorea turned to look at the car that was parked in front of the house.
"That must be their car, surely? And the front window is open. They wouldn't leave it open if they were all out, would they?"
"Maybe they would," said James, with a shrug. "They've got the neighbourhood vigilantes keeping watch across the road."
"Hilarious," said his mother dryly. "Should I knock again? They might not have heard it?"
James toyed with the idea of telling his mother that Lily Evans was likely in the house and refusing to come to the door because she had seen him outside. Evans basically hated him, so it wouldn't come as a surprise if it was true. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of somebody thundering down the stairs inside the house.
"Am I the only person in the house who has manners enough to open the front door?" came a shrill, angry voice. James imagined that the cry of the Mandrake would have been an apt comparison. Through the rippled yellow glass panes in the door, he could make out the distorted outline of a woman approaching, then the door was thrown open to reveal a young woman. She was tall and angular, with blonde hair, quite a lot of neck, and sharp, grey eyes. She blinked rapidly at the both of him, seemingly taken aback by Dorea's outfit.
"We're not buying anything," she said coldly, and smoothed down the front of her floral patterned sundress. James vaguely recollected that he had once heard from someone who had heard from someone else that Lily Evans had an older sister, although it may have been an older brother, or a younger brother, or an eccentric uncle, or even a cat. He hardly believed that this blonde could be related to Evans. Evans was beautiful. This girl wasn't.
"We're not selling anything, dear," said Dorea, who could waltz into Cokeworth in all her finery as easily as she could traverse the palaces of kings. "Do the Evans family live here, by any chance?"
The blonde frowned. She had clearly been hoping that they had stopped at the wrong house. She looked from Dorea to James, perhaps more assured by his unremarkable clothes. His mother, also, looked expectantly to him. He looked from the blonde to his mother and then back again, and for want of something better to do he flashed her a wide, winning smile. This unnerved the blonde completely and she took a step back into the house.
"I'm Petunia Evans, so I suppose we do," she admitted, eyeing James as if he might be dangerous. "Are you looking for my sister?"
"We'd actually like to speak to one of your parents," said Dorea. "If either are available."
"They're in the kitchen," said the sour-faced Petunia. "I'll just fetch my mother."
She spun on her heel and hurried away from them. James allowed himself an amused snort, which earned him a reproving look from his mother, who was clearly trying not to laugh herself.
"Mum! Dad!" Petunia cried, pushing open the door at the end of the hall. "There are some strange people at the – what are you all doing over there?"
She disappeared into the kitchen and James could vaguely hear a muffled argument. Half a minute passed and she reappeared, clutching a greasy brown bag and scowling. With her was another blonde, this one shorter, fleshier and a lot better looking. James recognised her immediately as Lily Evans's mother. He had met her a few times at King's Cross.
"Hello, James!" Mrs Evans greeted him brightly, which was immediately disarming. He had expected a colder reception from the mother of a girl who despised him. "I knew it was you who I saw in town earlier. You must be his mother, he's the spitting image of you. I'm Grace Evans," she added, and held out her hand for Dorea to take. "It's nice to meet you."
Petunia did not stop to chat again, but threw James a withering glare and dashed back upstairs.
"It's a pleasure. Dorea Potter," said his mum, shaking Mrs Evans's hand with her own gloved one. A door slammed from upstairs. "Is your daughter quite alright?"
"Oh, she's fine, you know teenagers and their tantrums."
"I know all about that, believe me. I've been dealing with it all day."
"My two are always scrapping over something."
"I've got this one," said Dorea, motioning towards James and hitting him in the face with the brim of her feathered hat. "And a nephew of the same age living in the house at the moment."
"You're a brave woman."
"Oh no, you're the brave one. Boys are dirty creatures, but they're easy to keep in line. Girls are impossible."
James felt mildly offended, but refrained from pointing out that his mother liked to leave makeup stained tissues all over the house, or the horror that had been her menopause. He also refrained from suggesting that saddling a child with a name like Petunia might give her cause to spend her life in a foul mood.
"You know, James," said Lily's mother warmly. "I remember you from when Lily came home during her first year and I had to untangle her hair from your watch. When I saw you at the train station the other week I couldn't believe how much you'd grown. You're so tall!"
"Oh, I know," said Dorea, before James had a chance to respond. "He was quite a short little boy but now he's taken such a stretch that I hardly know him."
"It's the exact same with Lily. She goes away every September and comes back in June looking like a different person, but I still expect her to come back looking like a little girl."
"There's a potion that can do that for you," said James. The two women laughed uproariously at this completely unfunny remark.
"Such a joker," said his mother, as if she didn't use Youthfulness Potion once a week to keep her skin free of wrinkles and her hair black and shining.
"Well, he's certainly very grown up and handsome," said Mrs Evans. "You must be fighting off the girls with a stick."
James heard a laugh from somewhere inside the house. Lily Evans was evidently listening in on the conversation. Mrs Evans raised both eyebrows and pursed her lips together.
"So, James," she continued loudly. "Have you been out and about much this summer? Doing anything fun?"
"Er, yeah, quite a bit," he replied. "I spend time with my mates, muck around in the village, play Quidditch, things like that."
"James is captain of the house Quidditch team," said his mother proudly. "He's very talented."
"That's wonderful to hear, James," Mrs Evans enthused. "I'm glad to hear that you've been keeping active all summer. That's probably a lot better for you than lying around in bed for weeks and moaning to your parents about the weather, which is all Lily's been doing."
"Oh," said James. He decided that he liked Mrs Evans. "Well, I think the heat makes it harder for some people to get outside."
"James tells me that your daughter is a remarkable witch."
"She's a good girl," Mrs Evans agreed. "She tells me that you're the most popular boy at school."
"Nah, she's just being nice."
"We were actually hoping to speak to Lily, and with you and your husband, about a couple of things," said Dorea. "It is quite important, so if she happens to be free."
"She's always free," said Mrs Evans. "Come inside and see her. I'm sure she'll be in the kitchen, pretending she wasn't eavesdropping."
The kitchen was bright and cheerful, and very tidy. James and his mother entered to find Lily Evans bustling about, putting paper bags in the win and attempting to look busy. She didn't look happy to see him but she greeted them both politely and offered his mother a genuine smile. Her father was far more enthusiastic in his welcome. He was a big bloke, and probably could have knocked James unconscious if he wanted, but he didn't seem inclined to do so. James deduced that Lily hadn't told her parents about his numerous attempts to ask her on a date.
Once the introductions had been made, Mrs Evans insisted that they all sit and enjoy a glass of lemonade. Petunia did not venture back downstairs and it didn't seem as if she was likely to do so.
"Unbearable weather we're having, isn't it?" said Dorea conversationally. She had removed her enormous hat, and it was resting on the one empty chair that remained at the table.
"I can't remember anything like the heat of this summer," agreed Lily's father. "It must be the hottest July in British history."
"They're saying that it's going to continue for another few weeks," seconded Mrs Evans. "It's gotten so bad that we're frowned upon for trying to wash our dishes."
"We've been trying to do something about it at the Ministry," said Dorea. "Weather-Modifying Charms and such, but we have to keep it contained to villages heavily inhabited by wizards, otherwise it attracts too much attention from Muggles."
Both of Lily's parents looked enthralled by this information, whereas Lily looked bored. James caught her eye and she pushed her bag of chips towards him, motioning for him to take one. This act of generosity surprised him, but he was hungry, and appreciated the offer.
"It's amazing, you know, that you can change the weather," said Lily's mother.
"On a small scale," Dorea explained. "Small villages are fine, but a whole country would be impossible without a large gathering of wizards, and it would probably have an adverse effect upon the environment. We try to avoid it when we can."
"I had no idea." Mrs Evans shook her head in amazement. "Lily, did you know that?"
Lily nodded, caught in the act of raising her glass to her lips.
"Lily's been really struggling with the heat, haven't you love?"
There wasn't any need for Lily to confirm this. She looked dreadful, really dreadful. Her cheeks were bright red, her clothes wrinkled, and her skin damp and sweaty. She had been recently sunburned and her hair was in need of a good wash. Clearly, ginger women and hot weather were not a match made in heaven. And she was still gorgeous. James was finding it difficult to keep from staring at her.
And then there were the shorts, of course. James had gotten a good look at them before everybody sat down. They were white and clinging and sported a large chocolate stain, but what followed from the shorts were a pair of long, shapely legs. Those legs were a thing of beauty. He had never seen them bare before. The Hogwarts uniform consisted of flapping, formless robes, which was tragic, now that he could see what they had been hiding.
Lily Evans had legs. Not just legs, but legs.
"I wish I could use a Cooling Charm on the house," said Lily, setting down her glass. "But I'm still under seventeen, and if I tried -"
"You'd get another warning letter from the Ministry?" Dorea finished. "I work there, you know. It seems you've had quite a few warnings for performing magic at home over the years."
This was news to James, who hadn't known Evans to be a rule-breaker. Lily didn't look surprised to learn that his mother was aware of her crimes, but laughed rather unashamedly.
"I like to experiment."
"There's nothing wrong with it as long as you're capable," Dorea agreed. "Not every underage student is capable, however, which is why we have that rule in place."
"There's nothing wrong with it, if you're capable," Dorea agreed. "Not every underage witch or wizard is, however, which is why we have to have that rule."
"I've been dying to cast a Cooling Charm," Lily admitted. "But I've had so many letters at this point that I don't think it's worth the risk."
"Well, I can cast one for you, if you like."
"Oh, yes please!" said Lily's mother enthusiastically. "We'd all be so grateful."
Lily's arm twitched, as James had so often seen it do whenever she prepared to raise her hand in class. "But wouldn't the Improper Use of Magic Office trace the source of the magic directly to this house, rather than to the caster, assume it was me and issue me with another warning?"
Dorea studied Lily carefully. "You're an exceptionally bright girl, aren't you?"
"I do alright."
"She got excellent exam results," said her father. "All 'Outstandings', across the board."
"She's the best in our year," said James, who took all of the same classes and achieved identical results, although he had failed his tenth class, Divination, which he and Sirius had only taken for a laugh anyway. Lily caught his gaze and held it with coldly, as if she were silently imploring him to shut up, or silently chastising him for staring at her legs earlier. It could easily have been either.
"I'm not the best in our year," she refuted. "I'm alright."
"My son doesn't understand the meaning of the word 'humility', and he's claiming that you're better than he is," said Dorea. "I think you're just being modest."
"Cheers, Mum," said James.
"In any case," Dorea continued. "You're absolutely right, dear. It's common practice for the Ministry to assume underage magic in the case of a young witch or wizard who lives in a Muggle home, but that won't be the case today."
"Why not?"
"Mum is second in command at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said James. "The Improper Use of Magic Office is –"
"Part of the department," Lily finished. "I know."
"I informed my colleagues at the Improper Use of Magic Office that my son and I would be visiting you today and that any magical activity traced to the house would be attributed to me," Dorea explained. "The Ministry can tell where magic is coming from, but they have no way of telling what kind of magic is being performed. A Cooling Charm would make for an ideal cover."
"A cover?" Lily frowned. "A cover for what?"
"For Protective Charms," said Dorea simply.
"Protective Charms?" Lily's mother repeated, frowning. "Why? What are they?"
It was evident that Lily already knew why, the way her expression changed, and her eyes grew wide and fearful. She shook her head almost imperceptibly at Dorea, silently imploring. James's stomach sank like a stone. He and his mother had assumed that Lily's parents knew all about Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Now it became clear that they knew nothing – because Lily hadn't told them.
"I think," she said to Dorea. "That we should continue this conversation alone."
"What conversation?" said her mother, and placed a hand on Lily's arm. "Lily? What's going on?"
"Nothing." She shook her mother's hand away. "Can we go somewhere else to talk, please?"
"No, dear," said Dorea gently. "I really don't think we should."
"Lily?" said her father. "What's going on? What do you need to keep from us?"
He and his wife looked at one another over her head, and then to their daughter, who wouldn't look at them. The atmosphere in the room and gone from cheerful to tense in a matter of seconds.
"What are you not telling us?" said Lily's mother. She gripped her daughter's arm again and gave it a little shake. "Tell us, for goodness sake, this is making me nervous."
"Don't you think you should tell your parents the truth?"
"Yes, Lily, I think telling us the truth would be a good idea."
Lily looked to James in some kind of silent appeal, as if he could somehow help her. He shook his head and tried to demonstrate an apology without words, because he felt bad and it wasn't fair and he wanted her to know that he hadn't wanted to do this. For whatever reason, it seemed to work.
"Death Eaters," said Lily, without emotion.
"Death Eaters?" her father echoed. "What on earth are they?"
Everyone looked to Lily, but she popped a chip in her mouth and chewed it as if it was made of cardboard. She was evidently done talking.
"Death Eaters are a group who believe that Muggle-born witches and wizards, like Lily, pose a threat to the magical community and therefore believe that they should not be allowed to perform magic," Dorea explained. "It's elevated blood-purism, in essence. Their leader calls himself Voldemort and he is a particularly talented, particularly dangerous man. As their aim is to purify their race, they are attempting to do it by eliminating Muggle-borns altogether."
"Eliminate them?"
"You don't mean -?"
"By killing them?" said Dorea. "Unfortunately, yes, that seems to be the case."
The hand that rested on Lily's arm gripped it tightly, and Mrs Evans's eyes widened in terror. On the other side of Lily, Mr Evans sat up straighter in his chair. They both looked as if they had been recently Petrified, and James felt guilt twisting in his stomach, even though he and his mother had not really done anything wrong. Being the ones to sit there and bear the terrible news was bad enough. He would have felt less guilty if he'd jumped up and hexed them both. He wished his mother hadn't brought him with her.
Lily sat between them in silence. She did not look scared, nor did she look surprised. She, after all, had known this all along.
"How long has this been going on?" said Lily's father hoarsely.
"The Death Eaters have only really come into prominence over the past few years," Dorea explained. "Up until recently there hasn't been much to pin on them. There have been isolated assaults, incidents of Muggle-baiting, that kind of thing. However, the tide is beginning to change."
"The attacks have been occurring more frequently," said Lily dully. "Is that what you mean?"
"We believe that they still have a way to go before the matter becomes widespread," said Dorea. "As it stands, we don't believe that Voldemort and his followers have the numbers they need to stage a fully-fledged rebellion, and therefore they're trying to stay out of the spotlight, but there have been a worrying handful of incidents this year."
"Why haven't any of these incidents been reported in the Prophet?" said Lily.
"Harold Minchum, the current Minister, has kept that news out of the paper for the time being."
"Why?"
"He claims that he doesn't see the point in alarming the public," said James bitterly. "Instead he's trying to intimidate the Death Eaters by taking a harder line on known criminals."
"Minchum's focus is on Azkaban," said Dorea. "He believes that by restricting the inmates' privileges and stationing more Dementors within the prison, he can frighten the Death Eaters into subordination."
"He's mostly just afraid of turning public opinion against him," put in James. "Nobody wants a Minister of Magic who can't protect his public. It's easier to pretend that he's got everything under control."
"A politician who looks out for himself," said Lily dryly. "How shocking."
"The good news is that we don't believe that Minchum is in any danger of assisting Voldemort or the Death Eaters," Dorea continued. "He just seems to have missed the point. Luckily, people like Albus Dumbledore are taking these attacks seriously, and are intent upon doing something about it."
"Like placing Protective Charms on the homes of underage Muggle-borns?" said Lily.
"Precisely," said Dorea. "The problem we face here is figuring out how to accomplish the task whilst remaining undetected."
"By the Death Eaters?"
"By the Ministry," said James. "We've got reason to believe that there are Death Eaters infiltrating."
"You mean to say," said Lily's mother shakily. "That these people, these…. Death Eaters, have people working within your government?"
"I'm absolutely sure of it," said Dorea gravely. "Not many, but we believe that there are a couple who are quite highly placed."
"Like Mum's boss," put in James. His mother shot him a reproving look.
"Well," she said, "We can't be completely certain of that, but it is possible. Marius Gamp is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and he has currently placed the Auror training program on a temporary hiatus. He claims that this is due to budgetary issues, but I'm second in command, I know that's not true."
"Didn't Lucius Malfoy just make a huge donation to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" said Lily, looking puzzled. "I read about it in the Prophet the other day."
"Yes, he did," said Dorea. "Which is why we believe that Gamp's restrictions may be in place to prevent the Ministry from building a strong resistance movement. The Aurors are our biggest asset in terms of law enforcement. It would be a huge boon to Voldemort to restrict their numbers."
"Isn't Andie Black's sister married to Lucius Malfoy?" said Lily to James, who nodded.
"The fact that I suspect my superior may be involved in the purist movement has held me back significantly," Dorea continued. "I can't discuss our plans openly in the department for fear of being overheard by Gamp, or by anyone who may be working for him. Gamp is also in charge of Ministry-issued protection, so we've been forced to resort to trickery to reach even a small handful of Muggle-borns, and the ones we've chosen are the people whom we feel may be most at risk."
"And you thought to protect our daughter?" Lily's mother breathed.
"We did."
Mrs Evans's kindly grey eyes swam with tears and she reached across the table to take Dorea's hand.
"Thank you," she said, squeezing Dorea's fingers with her own. "Thank you so much."
It was clear that she believed Dorea was offering to protect Lily out of nothing but kindness. Lily, on the other hand, seemed to realise that this wasn't the case. She stared at Dorea with a hard, angry look in her eyes. James had seen that look a couple of times and it never boded well.
"I know people at school who are Muggle-born," she said, sitting up straighter in her chair. "My best friend, Beatrice Booth, she's Muggle-born too. Is she going to be offered the same kind of protection or are she and her family going to be left to fend for themselves?"
"That depends," said Dorea calmly.
"Depends on what?"
"On how likely she is to be targeted."
"And what criteria are you using to decide who is more likely to be targeted?"
"It's quite simple, dear," said Dorea, looking Lily directly in the eye. "The most obvious targets in the minds of Voldemort and his followers would be those who pose the biggest threat to them."
"No!" Lily jumped to her feet, and sent her chair clattering to the floor behind her. "No! That's ridiculous! How could I pose a threat to any of them? I'm only sixteen years old!"
"Yes, you're sixteen years old, and a particularly brilliant witch."
"I'm still only sixteen!"
"Dumbledore was sixteen, once," said Dorea simply. "Every great witch or wizard who ever made a difference was sixteen once. Incidentally, so was Lord Voldemort, and as some of your present teachers was still attest, he was a particularly brilliant wizard at sixteen."
"But I -"
"Dumbledore himself recommended that we protect you."
"But I still –"
"The Ministry may overlook the capabilities of youth, Lily, but it's highly likely that Lord Voldemort will not, and therefore, it is imperative that we keep you safe."
Red in the face, Lily picked up her chair and flopped into it. "In case they try to kill me," she spat. "But my friends might not be so lucky."
"Kill you, or recruit you," Dorea finished. She ignored the remark Lily had made about her friends, though James imagined that it cost her some effort. She had been assigned by Dumbledore to take care of Lily alone, and would do her duty regardless of how unfair she felt the situation was. "Of course, you are still very young and it is likely that you'll be left alone for now, but I'm sure you'd like to go back to school in September knowing that your family are safe, wouldn't you?"
Lily appeared to be chewing on her tongue as if she was desperately trying to hold back a retort. Her father put his arm around her shoulders. Her mother seemed unable to speak, but sat there, her hands balled into fists on the table, fighting back tears.
"I don't think we'll be sending her back to school, thanks," said Mr Evans. "It sounds like she'd be much safer here at home."
"That's entirely untrue," said Dorea. "Hogwarts is the safest place for her. It would be terribly unwise to pull her out now, and not just because her education would suffer."
"Why is that?"
"Dumbledore," said Lily and James together.
"What about him?"
"Voldemort is frightened of Dumbledore, Dad," said Lily gently. "And so are all of his Death Eaters."
"Dumbledore's the only wizard who Voldemort has ever feared," James seconded. "He's not going anywhere near Hogwarts."
"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard in the entire country," said Dorea seriously. "As long as he has charge of Hogwarts, the Death Eaters won't dare attempt to touch the place, and the sooner Lily is back there, the safer she'll be."
"Majorca," said Lily's mother quietly. Everyone looked at her.
"Pardon?"
"We were meant to be going on holiday this Saturday, to Majorca." Lily's mother looked at her husband. "I know how long we've saved, but Andrew, if going is going to put Lily in danger somehow…"
"You should still go," Dorea assured them. "You'll be entirely safe outside of the country, and once you get back I can assure you that the enchantments I put in place today will keep you fully protected for as long as you and your family live in this house."
"It's not even likely that you'll be attacked anyway," put in James. "It's just a precaution, to keep Ev - to keep Lily safe."
The room lapsed into silence. Mr Evans was screwing up his face as though he was being blinded by sunlight, and his wife was stroking Lily's hair in an absent kind of way, staring at the table with blank eyes. James and his mother held their tongues while they waited for one of them to break the silence. Eventually, though, it was Lily who tired of being quiet.
"So, how did you manage to sort this out?" she said. "Coming here, I mean."
"Well, obviously," said Dorea. "Because of James."
"Pardon?"
Dorea leaned forward over the table. James was glad that she had taken off her gigantic hat. "My husband and I are ideally placed within the Ministry to carry out these kinds of tasks, but that doesn't mean that it's going to be easy for us. We haven't openly declared any allegiance, you see, and it has helped us tremendously in furthering Dumbledore's cause. We've never shown support for the pure-blood manifesto, nor have we staunchly opposed it. We have felt it best to keep our opinions to ourselves for the past few years."
"Before all the trouble started, anyway," said James.
"With the way things are going, this isn't going to last much longer, and we will eventually be marked out as 'blood-traitors'. At the moment, though, we don't seem to be attracting suspicion."
"So, basically," said Lily, frowning. "You think it'll look less suspicious if you're the person who comes to visit Muggle-borns in their homes?"
"Not entirely," Dorea replied. "I couldn't pop out and visit anyone I fancied without a reasonable excuse or else people would start to catch on, but you and James are in the same year, and in the same house, are you not?"
Lily nodded.
"And you agree, I'm sure, that it would make perfect sense if I were to bring my son to meet a girl and her parents over the summer holidays?"
It took a moment for Lily to register the meaning behind this. When she did, she blushed violently and started shaking her head. It was a sign of just how much she hated him, thought James, that even with all of this trouble she still despised him enough to get upset over something like this.
"Hang on a second," she said, as if Dorea had been speaking a foreign language very quickly, and she was struggling to keep up with her. "You mean, you want people to think that he and I, that the two of us, are -"
Dorea raised an eyebrow. "Does it really bother you that much?"
"Well I, I mean, no," she spluttered, and it must have been a lie. "I mean, not if it's in the interest of, well, this, but he and I don't get along. We're not friends. It's common knowledge at school. I'm sure some of the students would tell their parents if they were asked."
"And you don't think you could start pretending to get along now?" said Dorea with a raised eyebrow. "James is perfectly willing to be civil."
"People have seen us arguing," Lily pointed out.
"Friends argue. People who didn't get along become friends all the time. It's not impossible to imagine."
"Do we have to act like we're…." Lily looked at him and blushed to the roots of her hair. "You know?"
"Of course not," said Dorea. "I wouldn't ask you to do that. He and I could have been visiting you for any number of reasons."
"This was the best option we had to reach you," said James, and Lily narrowed her eyes at him. "Honestly. She couldn't well bring Sirius instead of me."
Lily blinked. "Sirius?"
"Sirius Black is living with us at the moment," said Dorea. "He ran away from home."
"He ran..." Lily's eyes widened. Sirius Black's hatred of his family and their obsession with blood purity wasn't exactly a secret at Hogwarts. "Oh."
"His mother is my niece, and his father is my first cousin once removed," said Dorea. "I was Dorea Black before I married James's father."
"So Sirius and James are…"
"Related," said James. "Somehow."
"His name is mud with his family at the moment. They already know that he's staying with us. I didn't want to aggravate the matter by bringing him along today, besides," Dorea added. "From what I hear, you and Sirius like each other even less than you like James."
"That's true," said Lily, and threw James a nasty look for some reason.
"Are there any other questions you might like to ask me?" said Dorea.
"Too many," said Lily's mother. She sounded like a completely different person to the one who had come to the door. "Too many to pick just one. I don't even know where to begin."
"I'd like to perform the enchantments now, if you'll allow it."
"That'd be appreciated," said Lily's father.
Dorea rose from her seat, and took her wand out of her handbag. "I can see that the back garden is walled in. Is anyone likely to see us?"
"Yes, I mean, no," said Lily's mother. "It's walled in. I don't think anyone will see you. Perhaps Mr Bird from next door… but his eyesight isn't very good."
"Very well." Dorea glided towards the back door. "Would you like to come and observe me?"
"I would," said Mr Evans, and also rose from his seat. His jaw was set with grim determination. "I'd like to see what you're doing and I'd like you to explain how it's going to keep our daughter safe. And so would Grace." He placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Wouldn't you, love?"
"What? Oh, yes. Yes, I would." Lily's mother looked totally lost. She allowed her husband to take her hand, but gripped Lily's arm with the other. "Are you coming with us, Lily?"
"No," said Lily gently. "I think I need a moment. You should go, though. You never get to see magic for real."
Her mother seemed unwilling to let go of her. "Are you sure, love?"
"Yeah, I am," said Lily. "Please go, you'll feel better when you see what Mrs Potter can do."
Lily's mother kissed her temple, then allowed her husband to pull her gently to her feet. He wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulder and led her into the back garden. Dorea followed them out, pausing only to look at her son. For some strange reason, she winked at him.
"Be a gentleman and keep Lily company, won't you?" she said, and closed the door behind her. James and Lily were left alone together in the kitchen.
He had a feeling that attempting to initiate a conversation with Lily Evans might be taken badly, based on five years of superficial knowledge of the girl, so he decided to keep quiet and wait for him to talk. He doubted she had anything nice to say, considering the fact that he had shown up at her home uninvited and placed a massive strain on her relation with her parents. They sat in silence for a while, until she got up and started picking up empty glasses.
"Finish my chips, will you?" she instructed, and walked over to the sink.
James thought about offering to help but he didn't want to bother her further. He watched her set the glasses down on the draining board one by one, with just enough force to indicate that she was angry but not enough to accidentally break one. Presently, she turned on the tap and watched in silence as water filled the sink.
"We're not supposed to be using the water really, because of the drought," she said, not looking at him. She dumped all of the glasses into the sink. "Would you mind not telling the council about it? I think you've spilled enough of my secrets today."
"That was my mother, technically," James pointed out. "Not me."
Lily made an indecipherable noise in the back of her throat and started to wash the glasses. They lapsed into silence once more, her washing, and him watching her from the table. Once they were done, she stopped and looked at him, frowning.
"You know, you could offer to dry up, at least."
"I didn't know you needed me to dry up."
"I don't need you to dry up, you should want to dry up to thank us for our hospitality, and then I'd say, "No, thank you, I don't need you to dry up," and carry on. It's just a thing you do. It's good manners."
"Well, I don't visit many Muggle houses."
"You don't need to visit Muggle houses to have manners."
"Fair enough." James got up and walked over to the sink. He picked up a tea towel and a glass and displayed them with a flourish. "I'll dry them for you, and you don't have to refuse me to be nice. I'll dry them beautifully, just watch."
James had never dried a dish before in his life, but it didn't take a genius to work out the mechanism. He was surprised by Lily's calm demeanour. He would have expected her to fly into a rage just because he had the cheek to come to her house in the first place, never mind everything that happened afterwards. Instead, she just seemed rather tired as she leaned against a kitchen counter and looked out of the window.
"Our parents are sitting in my garden," she said, nodding at the window. "My parents and your mother. Sitting in the garden, having a chat."
James looked. His mother was sitting on a beach chair across from Lily's parents, talking away about something or other. He couldn't see their faces, but judging by his mother's expression they were all getting along as marvellously as three people could do in such a tense situation.
"Life's full of surprises."
"I didn't know that Elizabeth Taylor was your mother, Potter."
"Who?"
"She's a Muggle actress, you wouldn't know her." James looked at her suspiciously, and she rolled her eyes. "Merlin's sake, it wasn't an insult. I like your mother, and Elizabeth Taylor is very iconic and attractive."
"I get told that I look like my mother a lot."
"Trust me," said Lily, with a snort. "You don't."
She reached down to scratch her inner thigh and James was reminded of something that had occurred to him earlier.
"You've got legs, Evans."
"Really?" Her mouth dropped open. "Well, shit, Potter, I've been wondering what these things were for years."
He decided not to respond to her sarcasm. "What happened to your shorts?"
"I spilled hazelnut spread on them."
"Looks like you've shit yourself."
Her eyebrows travelled quite high. "Front-ways, Potter?"
"You can do things like that," he replied, with a shrug. "When you're magic."
The corners of her lips quirked and for a moment it seemed as if she might laugh, but then it was gone. She took two of the dried glasses from the draining board and placed them in a cupboard.
"How'd you find out where I lived, anyway?"
"Andie told me."
"Andie?"
"Yeah. How do you know her, anyway?"
"Her best friend is Alice's sister. Why did she tell you where I lived?"
"She and I are having a passionate love affair, haven't you heard?"
The door to the cupboard banged shut, and Lily snorted in derision. "As if you're good looking enough for Andie Black."
"It's Tonks now, actually," said James irritably. He was being perfectly nice to Lily Evans and she was trying to insult him at every opportunity. "Could you stop being so horrible?"
Lily folded her arms. "Excuse me?"
"Well, it's just that I don't know how I'm going to keep on living after such devastating blows to my ego, especially coming from a girl who looks like she's been living on the street since she left school."
"Oh, don't be so petty, Potter."
"Don't be petty yourself, Evans."
"I can't help it. You bring it out in me."
He shook his head in exasperation and tossed the tea towel across the counter. "I can't be bothered with this."
"Oh, can't you?" She was glaring at him, and her arms were folded so tightly that they were in danger of cutting off her circulation. "Then why did you even come here? To marvel at all the splendour?"
"What?"
"Only I'm sure that this house doesn't have a patch on your grand mansion. That must make you feel good, right? Knowing that you're bigger and better and richer than everyone else?"
Evans sounded so confident in her assertion that he was an arrogant snob that it was all he could do not to take out his wand and hex her. Furious, he balled his hands into fists and turned to her.
"I didn't know you thought so little of your own home, Evans."
She immediately bristled. "I do not!"
"Well then," he retorted. "Don't put words in my mouth and claim that I do, because I don't, and if you knew next to anything about me you'd know that."
Evans took a step back as if he'd advanced on her, and looked genuinely cowed. "I don't, I didn't… I'm sorry."
"Save it," he snapped. "I'm not interested in hearing a fake apology just because our parents are sitting in the garden."
"Are you serious?" She laughed humourlessly. "How many fake apologies have I heard from you this year?" She dropped her voice and assumed a clueless expression. "Oh, Evans, sorry for splitting Snape's bag open in the middle of the corridor, sorry for accidentally hitting you when I set a trip-jinx at him, sorry for attacking him after the defence exam, sorry for-"
"Oh, oh right, okay, so I'm just a big liar now, am I?" he retorted. "I suppose you'd know all about insincerity, wouldn't you, since you've been friends with Snape for five years."
Her emerald eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you dare."
"Don't I dare what?" he replied loudly. "Mention the Death Eater?"
"You have no right to bring him up after what you did!"
"Bring up who? The Death Eater?"
"Stop saying that!"
"Stop saying what? Death Eater? Is that somehow more offensive than the name he called you?"
"You're being a child!"
"Says the girl covered in chocolate."
"If you can't think of anything intelligent to say, Potter, don't say anything at-"
"If you two are going to start kissing, do it somewhere else please." Lily's angular sister had entered the kitchen during their argument, and her mood had clearly not improved. "I've just eaten, and I wouldn't want to vomit on my dress."
"Oh, shut up, Petunia, you miserable bitch!" Lily cried, rounding on her unsuspecting sister. She seemed close to tears. "Or I'll take that record you're so bloody obsessed with and break it over your head!"
Petunia looked as if Lily had slapped her across the face. She opened her mouth and closed it again, apparently lost for words, and Lily, who probably should have apologised, simply glared at her from where she stood, tears glistening in her eyes. James desperately looked around for an escape route and found nothing. Luckily for him, the shouting hadn't gone unnoticed.
"What's going on in here?" said Lily's mother, coming in from the back garden, followed closely by her husband and James's mother. James noticed immediately that both of Lily's parents were a little glassy-eyed and vacant looking. "We heard shouting. Petunia, sweetheart, what did -"
Petunia didn't stay to answer her mother's question. With a parting glare, she stormed out of the room and slammed the kitchen door shut with such force that it shuddered in its frame. The sound of her footsteps resonated like a drum as she ran up the stairs. There was a final bang from above, and Lily promptly burst into tears.
"So," said Dorea, turning to Lily's parents. "You'll be coming to dinner on the fifteenth, yes?"
"He's not happy with me."
"Did he tell you why?"
"Yes, he did." She dropped into the plush, ruby armchair next to the empty fireplace. In spite of the Cooling Charm she'd cast over the house, it was far too hot to light a fire, even at night. "He thinks I shouldn't have Obliviated the girl's parents."
"Oh, right." He ran a hand through his hair. "Was Evans upset about it?"
"She was quite pleased about it, actually."
"That's weird."
"Not especially weird," she countered, removing the pins from her sleek, black hair. "She was concerned for their peace of mind."
"I thought you'd wanted the whole family to be clued in, though?"
"I did," she said, and sighed. "I did at first, but then I had to look at their faces."
"I don't follow you."
"One day, dear, you might have children of your own," she said, regarding him seriously from beneath perfect black brows. "And when and if you do, you'll understand just how horrifying it would be to be told that your child is in danger and that there's nothing you can do to help her or keep her safe."
"So you cracked," he replied, and laughed. "Where's all your nerve and daring gone?"
"It's buried beneath sixteen long years of being a mother," she responded. "Besides, I was a Ravenclaw."
"Did you explain this to James?"
"Of course I did."
"And he didn't understand?"
"Just like you, he's not a parent yet, so he's still furious with me."
"Can't say I blame him, to be honest."
"Don't you be cheeky, boy."
Sirius Black grinned, and his eyes and teeth were illuminated by the eerie blue moonlight that spilled through the window by which he was sitting, throwing his form into sharp relief against the darkness of the rest of the room, and highlighting his handsome face to its best advantage.
"Sorry, Aunty D."
When James entered his room he had very much intended to slam the door behind him and release his feelings by punching a couple of pillows. He had hated every single thing that had happened that day. He hated watching Lily's parents react to the news that their daughter's life was in danger. He had hated seeing Lily upset and knowing that there was nothing he could do to make her feel better. He was angry with her for treating him so badly and angry with himself for getting angry about it in the first place. The pillows were spared, however, by a tiny, fluffy brown owl he didn't recognise who had sailed through his open window and was hopping about impatiently on top of his bed. She hooted excitedly as he approached and held out her leg, to which a scroll had been attached.
"You're very cute and fluffy," he said to the owl, because Sirius wasn't around to hear him and make fun of him, and because it was true. "If you like, you can hop over to my owl's perch and have something to eat. She's out hunting for the night, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
He stoked the top of her head and she gave a soft hoot to indicate that she liked it. As soon as she was relived of her letter she nipped his finger in an affectionate manner and flew over to the perch. He watched her tuck into the owl treats for a moment before turning his attentions to the letter. There was no name on the envelope, and it was with some trepidation that he flipped it over and tore it open.
The letter was written in a hand that was neat and pretty and swirling, so different to Sirius Black's hurried, topsy-turvy scrawl, Peter's sloppy print, and even to Remus Lupin's, which was elegant and precise. It wasn't writing he recognised, but he knew immediately who had written it, all the same.
Dear James,
Politeness dictates that I address you by your first name, but it feels really strange to me. It really doesn't look right at all. Potter. Potter. Potter. Potter. Potter. Potter. That's better.
I'm definitely going to get drunk after writing this letter, by the way. Properly, properly drunk. The kind of drunk where you get sick everywhere and can't remember what you did the next day. Dead drunk. I don't know how I'm going to manage it because I'm not actually old enough to buy alcohol in a shop and my parents don't keep any in the house, but I'm sure I can sort something out.
I wanted to apologise for how I acted today. I know that we've not always gotten along and we're probably never going to be the best of friends, but you were only trying to help and I was really horrible to you. It was wrong of me to claim that you're some sort of snob, or that you were looking down your nose at me because I'm not wealthy. I know that you're not really like that. I was just upset and taking my anger out on you. Today was really stressful. I don't that doesn't excuse my behaviour but I think it explains it. I feel awful about it now, and I'm really sorry.
I hope that you'll accept my apology.
Lily Evans
PS. Could you please tell your mother that I really am grateful to her for the Cooling Charm? And for everything else. She's a lovely person. And you do look an awful lot like her.
Five minutes and three rereads later, James flopped backwards onto his bed, exhausted. He watched the little brown owl as she fluttered madly about the room, attacking the canopy of his bed and dropping owl treats on the floor. He smiled to himself.
"She's got good legs," he murmured, to nobody in particular. "Very good legs, in fact."
The letter was still clutched in his hand.