A/N: WOO almost 5000 for you to enjoy :) I hope you like!

Lily's back in her own skin, showered, and well on the way to being fed when Dorcas steps gracefully from the fireplace in a decidedly more stuffy set of fleece pajamas than Lily'd have expected. When she says as much, Dorcas winks and summons an empty cup and saucer to herself, "It's the only thing I've got in the way of pajamas – mum never did like the idea of me sleeping sans clothing."

And though Benjy's pointedly ignoring the conversation, Lily's not unobservant enough to miss the way the tips of his ears redden, or Dorcas' triumphant expression when she notes the same. Still, there are more pressing matters to address and Benjy's never taken well to full frontal assaults. It's better to sweet talk him when it's just the two of them and she's just let him win a few rounds of Snap.

In her distraction, Lily's a bit caught off guard when Benjy sets a plate before her filled with generous slices of roast, at least a double portion of potatoes, and just as many green beans as he knows she'll force herself to swallow down. Before she can inquire, he returns with freshly warmed bread rolls and deliciously creamy pats of butter on the side. Dorcas chuckles when Lily moans at the first bite, already slicing into the roast again, swiping at the spiced gravy poured over top.

As she breaks off a piece of bread and slathers a healthy portion of butter on the still warm center, Benjy prepares his own cuppa and claims one of the two remaining seats in the small nook just off the kitchen. "So, I assume we've had some important developments or you wouldn't have demanded Dorcas attend."

Dragging another bite of roast through her potatoes, Lily takes a moment to enjoy the delicious mix of heady flavors swirling over her tongue before she responds. "Apparently, Potter and Black – and Lupin," she pauses, "And maybe Pettigrew? Anyway, they've invited me – meaning you – to join up with a little extra-legal group they've gotten caught up in."

Dorcas sets her cup in the saucer with a clatter, "Death Eaters? I never – "

Lily wrestles a few green beans into her mouth. "Not Death Eaters – at least not on it's face."

Benjy stretches back to reach for a packet of biscuits and Dorcas' eyes skate over his form while she's got the chance to remain unnoticed – save by Lily, who smirks and quirks a brow but otherwise lets the indiscretion pass. "It seems they've got some anti Death Eater something or other going on and want the Fenwicks to join up – or at least one Fenwick."

"One Fenwick who isn't actually the Fenwick they think and is only pretending to be that Fenwick because the other Fenwick is trying to keep a low profile and needed a double to move about in society," Benjy pauses, "Not join up with some other underground organization to put herself in even more danger."

"What did the English language ever do to you, Benjy?" Lily responds, mulish.

He glares when Dorcas snorts and kicks at Lily's shins beneath the table. "All I'm suggesting, is this is hardly the point of our little farce. And anything that puts Lily in more – "
"Doesn't it make more sense to kill two birds with one Polyjuiced stone?" Dorcas muses, snatching a biscuit for herself before Benjy steals them away in retaliation.

"You're my favorite," Lily says with a smile, pushing her plate away and topping off her tea.

"I'm too tired to put up my usual pointless arguments," Benjy sighs, draining his tea to the dregs, "Just because I know it's useless doesn't mean I'm not opposed."

Lily pats his hand. "Wise to know when you've lost, Ben."

"Don't forget your flask – "

"I know," Lily murmurs, gulping down her first dose with a wince.

"And if things start to go poorly – "

Readjusting her clothes over her newly grown body, Lily pats Benjy's cheek. "Benjy, I will be fine. I'm going in fully aware and on my guard. I've done little espionage missions before."

Benjy sighs and slumps into the tufted chair tucked just under Lily's bedroom window. "But never because of me, Lily. It's – you're my. You're the closest I've got to a sister. Not sure how blood could change anything."

Lily makes to hug him but hesitates, "How weird would it – "

"Just this once, eh?"

And when she's tucked against his chest, nose buried in the familiar woodsy scent of his cloak, Lily can almost forget she's a foot taller and sporting entirely different parts than her traditional ones. "Be careful, yeah?"

"Shouldn't I be saying that?" Benjy sniffs, swiping under his eyes swiftly.

"I'm too good to need it," Lily laughs, "And besides, this is just a little 'audition' – sparring practice and meeting some of the members."

He narrows his eyes but releases his grip on her arms before striding toward the hall. "Just – I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Of course."

Lily gulps down some lukewarm tea and a dinner roll before checking the time and James' scrawled instructions, then murmurs Potter Manor and disappears in a swirl of green flames. She steps from the flames with considerably less grace than Dorcas and finds James Potter waiting for her with a grin she's quickly learning is a signature of his.

"Fenwick."

"Potter."

Their eyes lock for a handful of moments and Lily's not made of stone and not ashamed to admit she gets a bit lost in those hazel eyes, mischievous and warm and – He clears his throat, "Shall we be off?"

Smoothing back Benjy's traditionally slicked hair, Lily follows as James leads her past the snoozing portraits and toward a small library down the hall, the house silent around them save for the ticking of clocks and their own footsteps. "Mr. Black? And Mr. Lupin?"

"Sirius will already be there – he had a late night," James breaches the doorway and strides across the emerald carpet toward a broad wooden desk tucked in the corner with entirely too many books and papers scattered across the top. As he begins shuffling through the detritus, he adds, "And Remus," he tosses a white glove stained with some mysterious purple substance over his shoulder, "He's got family business but he may turn up."

Lily takes the vague answer for the brush off that it is and saves her questioning for later while James searches more frantically as the mantle clock ticks away the minutes.

It's nearing half past when Lily clears her throat, "Can I – "

James shouts, raising a scratched letter opener with a macaw shaped handle, "Grab ahold, Fenwick, we're off."

Whatever complaints Lily's ever had about the head-spinning effects of apparition pale in comparison to the abrupt feeling of portkeys, like a hook settling somewhere near your navel and tugging into the unknown across space. When they touch down in a well kept garden, cobblestones beneath their shoes, Lily stumbles forward and is only prevented from flipping headlong into the duck pond by James' strong, sure grip on her elbow. Hopefully, he doesn't notice the flush that rises on her neck.

The next quarter of an hour or so passes relatively quickly as James gives her an abbreviated tour of the safe house they're all meeting in that day. Remus joins them toward the end of the brief trek, looking a bit under the weather but still greeting Lily with a friendly nod and a warmer smile for James. "How's your first day so far, Benjy?"

"James has been quite the guide, I've got just enough information about the house to feel like I've seen everything without seeing more than two-thirds of the whole place."

James opens his mouth, presumably to mount some sort of defense, but Lily waves him off, "You've known me – I don't know. Not very long. I'd be more concerned if you dropped all your deep dark secrets this fast."

Remus laughs like it catches him by surprise and pats Lily on the shoulder, "Excellent point, Mr. Fenwick."

"Why thank you, Mr. Lupin," Lily replies, matching his teasingly lofty tone.

Quirking a brow, James begins leading the way back toward the front of the house through a few whitewashed halls with creaky floors, a fresh lemony scent, one Lily recognizes from home care lessons with Benjy's aunt, heavy in the air.

When they reach the end of the hall, James pauses with his fingers on the doorknob and glances at Lily over his shoulder, "Hope you dressed comfortably, Fenwick. I've got some frustration to work off."

And then he pushes the door open and Lily's hit with a cacophony of competing sounds – grunts, exclamations, and shouted spells mixing with crashes, slams, and cracks as each wand slices through the air. It's all as Lily would've expected from a magical underground resistance group, until her gaze finds a quartet of witches and wizards sparring without wands tucked in the corner. James follows her eyes and claps a hand on her shoulders – she can't help but consider whether he'd do the same if she were in her own, much smaller and less manly body – and smiles dangerously. "Benjy, you know my mind. Up for some hand to hand combat?"

Remus lingers just over her shoulder, slowly taking in the scene and seeming to assess each couple for form and ability. "If I recall, your spellwork would hardly be called deficient."

Despite her extensive preparation and essentially lifelong expertise in Benjy Fenwick, Lily startles a bit and stumbles over her response, though hopefully it'll be put of to general social awkwardness and nothing more. Luckily, the utter bizarreness of the situation is mark in her favor – eccentric and uncomfortable Benjy is generally viewed as a more likely explanation than polyjuiced adopted sister parading about and pretending to be her adopted brother to avoid discovery of an underground society dedicated to protecting muggleborns and muggles from Death Eaters.

By the time Lily's full attention is focused on her companions once again, James has claimed a section of sparring mats and shucked his over robes in favor of his loose fitting tunic and trousers beneath. "Ready, Fenwick?"

Lily throws back her shoulders and strides over with Benjy's characteristic overconfidence. "Are you, Potter?"

And that was a bit flirtier than would be characteristic of Benjy, but Lily's got few joys in life and seeing James Potter blush is quickly becoming one of them.

Flexing her fingers while James shakes out his arms, Lily is mentally deciding which style of combat is best suited to Benjy's body when James swipes at her leg and drops her to the mats with a dull thud that sends stars behind her eyes. He offers her a hand up and Lily makes to grab it, but instead kicks at his thigh and gets him to his knees looming over her. His glasses begin to slip down the bridge of his nose and his chest is heaving so Lily sees her chance, caught up in the adrenaline of it all, and raises her palm in a quick upward motion, connecting with his nose with a crunch.

Despite the blood that begins pouring from his likely broken nose, James doesn't address the trickle, instead grabbing Lily's forearms and pinning them overhead while he brings his shins to pin her legs down.

Or at least attempts – Lily's not fallen enough behind to take the issue lying down and instead expertly digs her knee between James' legs and as he groans in pain, shoves his gut with a strong kick of her booted foot.

When James collapses back against the mats, he's grinning like he's just aced an exam and points a bloody finger at Lily as she sits up. "You, my friend, are an excellent fighter."

Before Lily can respond, a slow clap echoes from overhead and Sirius Black's gauzy drawl sounds. "Now that was a show."

Remus snorts. "They are the best match I've seen – " he glances Lily, "James usually wipes the floor with his opponents. It's nice to see him get a bit bloodied for once."

Rising onto her knees, Lily shuffles over and begins by syphoning the blood from James' face and shirt before concentrating on his bruising face. "Hold still, yeah?"

With a quick muttered, episkey, James' nose is righted and most of the darkening under his eyes is gone, his warm hazel eyes blown wide and entirely focused on Lily. Without bidding, Lily's thumb – her calloused thumb that's entirely not hers – brushes along his jaw where she's holding it still. "Better?"

He matches her tone, and nods slow, "Yeah," he clears his throat and breaks their focus, "Sirius, tell Kingsley I'll partner with Benjy for his first night out?"

Quirking a brow, Sirius jerks his head in answer and disappears through a door in the far corner.

Lily asks after a loo while James has a hushed conversation with a dark haired woman with an almost inhumanly erect posture. And based on her immaculate bun and perfectly creased tartan sash, Lily's almost certain this is the infamously extraordinary Minerva McGonagall from Benjy's stories.

Once she's been given directions, Lily disappears into the loo and takes a steadying breath, smoothing her hair and checking for any wavers in her disguise. Though all looks in order, she keeps to the schedule and takes a healthy swallow from the flask tucked inside her waistcoat.

While she's here, she reluctantly – and mostly blind – takes care of business before washing her hands and taking a steadying breath. Because of all the things she'd foreseen as potential problems during this whole farce, creating sexual tension between James Potter and herself as Benjy was not one of them. But things are what they are, and she'll just have to plow ahead and perhaps scream into a pillow when she finally gets home.

James makes sure Lily gets a few more formal introductions, various members of the Order as she's learned it's called, including a grizzly auror called Moody, who grunts at her and examines her fairly closely, making Lily glad they decided to forgo transfiguration or charms to bring her into Benjy's likeness. He nods curtly and passes James a slip of parchment before stumping off. McGonagall purses her lips and greets Benjy, grim as she tucks her breeches into high boots – worn but impeccably clean. Lily'd wager a guess they're her old Quidditch boots, but there's no time for musing on the idea of the imposing Scotswoman flying high above the crowds and diving between opponents with fluid intensity. A few more men and women greet her with varying levels of suspicion, mostly names she's never heard before and she feels a kernel of bittersweet warmth bloom in her chest at the idea of so many muggleborns standing to fight instead of slinking off and leaving the wizarding world to be picked over by Voldemort and his horrid vultures.

Gesturing for her to follow, James heads toward a drawing room that's been outfitted as an armory of sorts, potions under lock and key that Lily presumes will need more than an alohamora, cloaks and dark coats hung on hooks with messily scrawled names over each. James makes his way over to the hook marked with his name and points out a bare one in the corner. "You can store your things there. We've got a couple cursebreakers that cooked us up a little spell to ensure no one leaves with anything they're not supposed to."

Lily snorts, "How long did it take Black to test it out?"

James laughs like it caught him by surprise, his hazel eyes dancing as he exchanges his crisp robes for a dark leathery coat, flicking the collar around his jawline. "Less than a day. He's never been one for self preservation."

Making her way over to the corner, Lily begins by marking out her own name on the bit of parchment affixed over the hook, the 'B' looking a bit angular, but twenty some odd years starting your name off with an 'L' is no easy habit to overcome. She'd keep the little oversight to herself though, Benjy was always three sentences away from locking her potions supplies away and shaving his head to keep her in her own skin.

Shrugging off Benjy's more formal robes, Lily reaches into the pouch at her hip and tugs one of his signature coats from inside, waist length and riddled with hidden pockets. As well as a few carefully crafted protective charms they'd worked up over the years.

It's still odd, not needing to fluff her hair over the collar and Lily's almost certain she makes a strange picture as she pushes the phantom locks free.

If anyone asks, maybe she'll start the idea circulating that ol' Benjy tried out a new hairstyle while on the continent in an attempt to match up with the general European populous. No harm in adding another fib to the ever growing pile of deception lingering somewhere around her hips at this point.

"Can you apparate from coordinates?" James asks, patting his coat down before striding across the room, flicking his wand in an intricate pattern and grabbing a few vials from the dusty shelf.

Lily's mouth twists, "I understand the theory well enough, but I'm not entirely confident all parts of me will get to the appropriate locale."

His lips tilt at that and James tilts his head toward the entryway, "Sidealong's probably better – only one pop."

It's odd, apparating in a different body, almost like the first time she'd done it. Which is really why she'd shied away from the challenge of her first attempt at coordinate based travel. Hopefully she doesn't cling too tightly to James' arm as they disappear from the front yard and onto a pebbled beach, the sun well and truly on the way to setting by the time they're crunching up toward the cliffs.

Though where Lily thinks they'll make a detour toward the sloping ramp of stone that leads to the lush green top of the cliffs, James veers toward the precipice, waves beating out a ceaseless rhythm at their backs. And as if he sensed her unasked question, James slows and matches stride with her, leaning close and murmuring in an undertone. "We've got word that there are some caves around here with heavy magic signatures. It's not clear whether nefarious things are afoot – "

Lily snorts, "Nefarious?"

"Excuse me, mum likes a good vocabulary."

She nudges his arm with her elbow, "A proper mummy's boy then?"

James pulls her behind a rocky outcropping and peers around the chalky surface for any unwelcome company. It seems safe enough, but he doesn't budge, "I'd like to wait out here for a bit – the entrance to some caves is just there and it'd be right convenient if that's our hot spot."

"There's a lot of cliffs around here Potter, a lot of caves – "

He holds her gaze and reaches into his breast pocket, "Which is why I brought this."

Frowning, Lily holds out her hand – still a bit caught off guard when it's tanned and scarred in place of her slim, pale one – and raises the vial to take a sniff, sharp and pungent with a strange pearlescent hue and an unusual yellow coloring. "Circumspicio elixir?"

"You know your potions," James whispers with a grin, "Dad can look at a set of ingredients and list the top five concoctions to be made."

Tucking the lid away, James reaches into his seemingly endless pockets and retrieves what appears to be the top of a spray bottle and attaches it to the elixir with a few twists of his wrist. "Figured this trick out in sixth year – Sprout had 'em in the greenhouses and it seemed dead useful. Nicked the first one to test out the idea," he squeezes the trigger once to try it, "Then bought my own supply."

A smirk twists Lily's mouth, "Can't help but think your motives were less purely motivated at the start."

"Are you telling me you never got up to mischief at Hogwarts, Fenwick?"

And it's the addition of the name at the end really, that calls Lily back to reality as James trots toward the small cave mouth and gets to work with his bottle. This isn't her – it's not them. James is living a half-truth against his will and for the first time she feels sourness in the pit of her stomach at the thought that none of these people know who she is. If she passed James in the street, she'd get that stilted smile instead of the increasingly familiar slanting grin he sends at her now – it'll all be gone when this is over. Whatever this even is.

She doesn't have long to muse on the idea as James returns, barely out of breath despite the jog and buckets of adrenaline she assumes are flowing through his veins, if the brightness in his eyes is anything to go by. He tugs her down and gets them into position so the rocks hide them while allowing an almost unencumbered view of the cave. "Ben – this is it. There's some heavy magic guarding that entrance."

"And the spray is completely undetectable – "

"Carried away on the wind," James confirms.

"But you've got an exact outline of the wards – it's genius."

Even with the darkness, the silvery moonlight allows Lily to enjoy how his cheeks flush at the compliment. "Dad always liked to reinforce the usefulness of potions beyond the usual ailments, grooming, and destiny changing stuff."

Lily shuffles her feet, getting a bit more comfortable, "This coming from Fleamont Potter, the Sleekeazy's magnate."

He fiddles with a few rocks at his feet. "Can't choose what you get famous for."

"Not something I'd expect to hear from you – James Ignotius Potter certainly ruffled some feathers when he joined the aurors rather than accepting a fairly convincing offer from the Falcons," Lily answers, eyes only darting to read his tensed posture for a few moments before they return to the cave.

The answering laugh comes out more like a huff. "Puddlemere was much more tempting."

Lily shuffles, trying to keep the gravel from crunching beneath her feet while preventing her extremities from going numb from disuse. "Not tempting enough?"

Sighing, James leans a bit more into the craggy outcropping they've taken sanctuary behind and darts his eyes toward Lily, "I just felt irresponsible – I had enough talent for either – "

"And humble too," Lily teases, earning an eye roll from James that'd likely have been accompanied by a shove if not for their less than playful circumstances, if his dangerous smirk is anything to go by.

But he sobers, "I couldn't go out for Quidditch with all this going on," he gestures vaguely, a small rueful smile tilting his lips, "Maybe after the war, yeah?"

"Perhaps our kids'll get the luxury of peacetime employment," Lily muses softly.

The waves continue their steady beating against the shoreline, the crash in and rush out that can almost send you to sleep with its calming rhythm. Wind whips from the sea and brings goosebumps on her skin, sends shivers down her spine.

James pulls a flask from some inner pocket on his cloak and takes a long drag, "It'd be better if we were allowed alcohol on missions, nothing like a mouthful of firewhisky to keep you warm," he smiles and offers Lily a sip but she waves it away, pulling out her own and taking a long swig, body tingling with magic.

They're silent a few moments; eyes locked on the empty cave mouth and muscles tense. Until James clears his throat and rubs at a chalky stain on his trousers, "What about you?"

Lily hums, lost in her own thoughts and far away from the thread of their conversation, so James reiterates, "What would you do, after the war?"

It's a novel thought – her life without a war to consider. For as long as she can really recall every move and non-move has been in some way determined by outside forces battling for the soul of the wizarding world. Her only foray into the beautiful, wonderful side of magic was a brief afternoon with a man called Filius Flitwick visiting her home and suddenly so much of her odd little first eleven years of life makes sense. The unexplainable happenings when she was excited or sad or just curious – the way she floated just a little bit higher when she leapt from the swings, the way her mum's beloved marigolds bloomed back to life in her palm after the neighborhood boys tramped across the yard.

But it had only lasted through those beautiful few hours. She'd drifted off to sleep, Petunia at her new best friend's house because that afternoon had been the last straw in her tolerance of Lily's peculiarities, until she was woken in the middle of the night to loud shouting and the smell of smoke.

Before her mind wanders much further into the winding paths of the past, James nudges her boot with his. "Alright?"

She startles a bit, but James' expression is so soft, so kind, that she can't deny the way her chest lightens, past pain releasing its clawed grip on her heart for the moment at least. "I always loved Charms," Lily shrugs, "But I think I'd like to go into experimental Potions – there's so much I know we could do with them I mean just werewolves, the suffering – "

James' raised brows have her stuttering to a halt and a flush rising on her cheeks. "Sorry – this isn't some long game attempt to get in with your dad."

He snorts, "Dad would love to see a young person excited about potions."

Slightly recovered, Lily eyes the bottle in his hand, "And you're not?"

There's a pause as they both turn their full attention to the reason they're here, the cave that's still bare and seemingly empty. James shuffles again and squints up at the moon, glowing overhead like a fully belly after Christmas dinner. "Nah. I see their use, make sure to take advantage," he lifts the bottle and shakes it in illustration, "But he's got a way with them – it's like art."

"That's – " Lily cuts off and grabs James' shoulder, "Look."

His eyes dart to her hand on his arm but quickly away to the cave where people in dark robes are emerging carrying what seem to be heavy crates in twos. James holds a finger to his lips and then gestures for Lily to follow him, crawling closer and diving behind rocks so the milky moonlight doesn't reveal their squatting forms.

They've just shifted from one formation to the next when the sharp rocks they left crumble a bit and fall with a loud clatter and their cover is blown. James whips out his wand and immediately sends a few hexes flying. Accurate though he is, they fly wide of moving targets and crackle against the mountainside. Lily manages to fire off a few slicing hexes and make contact, her victim letting out a yelp into the darkness and nearly dropping his half of the package.

As James and Lily give chase, one of the hooded men fires a spell back toward the cave mouth and a fire ignites, bright and destructive against the dark air. Lily shoots a panicked look at James and he seems to come to a decision relatively quickly. "I'll make chase – you stop that blaze."

Lily nods and does as instructed, aguamenti pushed toward the front of her mind so her wand emits a rush of water on the pyre.

Though it is a strong enough blaze, the fire does seem responsive enough that she rules out Fiendfyre, but it's no child's play, beating it back.

She's covered in ash and choking on smoke when James jogs back to her side, dejected. "They apparated as soon as they cleared whatever wards are placed around this beach. Hopefully there's something here that'll be helpful."

With a nod, Lily acknowledges their need to succeed and refocuses her efforts alongside James'. And soon, with considerable difficulty, they bring the flames to heel and secure the cave with wards of their own.

When they breach the mouth, it's to find less than they'd hoped but not complete failure, all things considered. Lily immediately strides toward one of the four broad workbenches, this one littered with stray ingredients and a few abandoned cauldrons, one of which is still steaming.

James kicks a stray crate, "Well this bust was a bust."

Lily doesn't answer, prodding the cauldron and cataloguing the detritus surrounding it, until she's able to take in the entire tableau. "Not quite, Potter."

He turns, face brightening with hope she's trying not to enjoy too much, and Lily grins, "You forget, Fleamont's not the only one with special Potions capabilities."

He strides across the room, footsteps echoing in the cavernous hideaway, and grabs Lily up in a hug, a tight squeeze she realizes somewhere in the back of her mind is less satisfying when she's not really the one on the receiving end. But she sniffs, all business, and pulls away. "Now get to work – or are you too inept with the art of Potions to identify ingredients?"

"Stuff it."