A Matter of Timing

Chapter Two
Of Christmas and New Year's

"Alright, here's the plan," Josiah Trust began, pacing in front of his squad.

"Sir, yes, sir," muttered Kieran Holmes. Lily sat closest to him and was the only one who heard, and tried not to snort.

"We're the Muggle Squad on call for Christmas Eve until two in the morning, and—"

The entire squad groaned.

Trust gave a glare that quickly silenced the room. "I know it's not ideal, but someone has to do it," he said grimly. "At least we don't have the Second Squad's job. They're on duty the moment we get off until two in the afternoon, and just you think about that when you're sitting around having a grand old Christmas dinner with your family."

"But the staff party tonight," interjected Lucy Grant. "I've already made plans to meet up with people."

"Our team will be at the staff party,"–several whoops of excitement—"but since we're working, no alcohol. The only reason I'm even letting you attend a party while on call is because Bagnold insists on mandatory attendance. Besides, this way I know where you all are."

"He's a madman," Kieran whispered in Lily's ear.

"Trust, you can't possibly tell us no alcohol at a staff party—"

"When you're on duty, I can tell you whatever the hell I like, Whitby," said Trust. "I could have you stand on your heads for three hours straight and there wouldn't be a damn thing you could say to stop me, and do you know why?"

"Because you're an obsessive, controlling psychopath?" Meg MacMillan teased.

Trust shot her a look that was both sweet and sour. "Because, I am your squad leader, and if you don't listen to my every instruction you might die."

"Got it," Kieran piped up seriously. "Standing on our heads will prevent death."

"Holmes, one day that mouth of yours will get you into trouble with someone less forgiving than I, and to be clear I won't lift a finger to prevent the arse-kicking you sorely deserve."

"Why doesn't MacMillan get a snappy scolding like that?"

"I'm his fiancée," Meg pointed out.

Kieran sunk into his seat. "Kiss up," he muttered.

Lily raised a hand. "Er…question."

"This isn't Hogwarts, Evans; just shout it out with no regard for structure or social convention like the rest of these hooligans."

"You said Second Squad was on call after us."

"I did."

"Are they going to be at the party right before a twelve hour shift?"

Trust looked momentarily wrong-footed. "Er…no. No, they'll be in the barracks getting some sleep."

"But you said the party was mandatory," said Dagley, catching on to her game.

"It is, but—"

"So shouldn't they be there?" he continued slyly.

"Those are…special circumstances…"

Lily arranged her face into a perfectly innocent expression. "I heard Moody say he wasn't going to show up either."

"Well, Auror Moody is—"

"I think he mentioned something about…" she pretended to be deep in recollection, "what was it…oh, yes! 'Those parties are just an excuse to get piss drunk and no one respectable goes.'"

"You know, I think I heard him say the same thing," Dagley piped up. "Didn't he also say something about…'Not as though it's required'—"

"Alright, shut up, the both of you!" snapped Trust. "No, the party isn't mandatory, and yes, all staff parties are an excuse to get piss drunk, but Merlin's pants, you lot, you all run me ragged year round and I deserve some socializing with actual friends of mine instead of this rotten band of misfits I'm seen fit to lead, and on Christmas Eve no less."

"So you lied."

Trust's eyes hinted at murder. "Yes, Dagley, I lied. And unless you want me to get Lennox to Obliviate everyone in this room you'll stop nagging like a grandmother. Understood?"

Lily pursed her lips to keep from smiling and shared a look with Dagley. They both glanced over at Andrew Lennox, the team Obliviator and most recent addition to First Muggle Squad, who was currently fidgeting in his seat and looking very uncomfortable at being singled out. Lennox, much like Lily and Dagley, had a joint job with the D.M.A.C. as a member of the Obliviator Squad. All three Muggle Squads had an Obliviator assigned to them, and Lennox happened to be the best of the three. He also happened to be ridiculously shy.

"Sir?" Lennox stammered. "I—er, regulations prohibit me from, er, removing the memory of witches and wizards without prior clearance or in a non-emergency situation—"

"Oh, calm down, Lennox, I wasn't being serious."

"Er…" Lennox appeared completely bewildered by this entire meeting. "Then why did you say it?"

"Because, Lexy," said Kieran jovially, "this one likes to talk big to hide his small wand measurements. Don't worry your head about it."

Trust sighed loudly. "You seven are possibly the worst, most insolent team ever assembled under this Ministry's banner. I am ashamed to call you qualified witches and wizards."

"Right; I'll be staying at my parents for Christmas, then," Meg said loudly.

The entire room (even Lennox, who had the decency to hide his nose and mouth under his hand) snorted at how quickly Trust's face turned pale and his scowl turned into genuine apprehension. Meg herself couldn't conceal a self-satisfied smirk at how she'd managed the room and future husband.

He opened and closed his mouth once or twice before saying, "Right, er…I'll see you lot in six hours. Get some sleep at home, or in the barracks, I don't give a damn, but show up here at two this afternoon or your arse will become my personal property."

"Promises, promises," Kieran muttered.

"I heard that, Holmes, and I'll tell you right now it's not funny. All of you are dismissed. Except you, Evans, and Dagley."

Lily stood up and stretched. She'd only just woken up an hour before, and the thought of turning back in for a few more hours was tantalizing. Sleep hadn't come easily to her the night before, not after what had happened. Hopefully whatever it was that Trust wanted to talk about wouldn't take that long. Kieran waved to her as he began to head toward the barracks.

This was the least interesting Christmas Eve Lily had ever taken part in; sleep, work, sleep, work. How uninspiring. She felt almost wistful of last year's tense and terrifying week of Christmas, the hell she had gone through, and the even greater hell Dagley had gone through by her side.

Almost.

And this year she didn't even have a boyfriend to kiss come New Year's Eve. Not that, well, she needed one, especially not Tim, but this happened to be the first year since her fifth year at Hogwarts where Lily was bereft a kissing partner.

She glanced over at Dagley, who remained seated as the rest of the squad left, eyeing Trust apprehensively.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked once everyone had gone. "Are we burying my mutilated corpse soon?"

"Shocking as it may be, Dagley, this little meeting isn't about you," Trust said dryly. He turned to Lily. "I had a word with Bagnold up on level one about your employment status, Evans. She seems to think you should have your position reinstated after your year at Hogwarts is up. I didn't realize you'd be spending a year at Hogwarts, Evans."

She blanched. Oh, of all the people to break the news to Dagley, and like this

"Actually, it was only finalised yesterday," said Lily awkwardly. "I was going to tell you soon—"

"How about your partner here, Evans?" Trust interrupted her, gesturing toward Dagley. "Were you going to tell him about your new job, hmm?"

Lily looked over at Dagley, whose shock and hurt struck her unexpectedly hard in the chest. Dagley looked from her to Trust, his arms crossed in front of his chest like a shield, as if words had escaped him for the moment. She felt wretched.

"Of course I was," she said to both men. "I was going to tell you, Dags, I swear."

"Evans, when did this happen?" he asked, his blue eyes wide with confusion.

"I…er, last week Dumbledore asked if I could take over Flitwick's job for a year while he went on sabbatical," she answered hastily. "Flitwick, I mean. Not Dumbledore, he's not going on sabbatical. And yesterday after Ottery St. Catchpole, I said I would. I have to get away from this for a little while," Lily finished in desperation.

Dagley shook his head. "And you didn't think to ask me what I thought about it?"

"It's not exactly your decision to make," Lily told him, now slightly annoyed.

"No, it's not, but…Merlin's beard, Evans, you're my partner!" snapped Dagley, standing up. "You're the person I trust most in the field to watch my back and keep me from dying on a regular basis. How'd you think I'd feel if, one day, I was randomly assigned someone I don't know I can rely on because you'd up and gone with no warning?"

His words were like a slap in the face. "I was going to tell you," she repeated insistently, "As soon as I talked to Dumbledore about my living arrangements. I was going to ask you to flat-sit for me for a year, since you're always going on about how dingy your little place is, but I suppose I won't bother now."

He blinked. "Flat-sit for you?"

"Yeah, Dags! Since you're the only person I'd want living in my home while I'm away—and for the record, I would never let anyone assign you to a partner you don't know," she snapped. "I wouldn't leave if I thought that might happen, not for a second."

Dagley looked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't come up with the right words. His expression shifted from hurt to touched, and Lily's heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. But how could he think she would just abandon him out of the blue? She wasn't nearly so cold as that, was she?

Trust coughed. "Not that your little lovers' spat isn't fascinating," he announced, "but shall we move on to more important topics?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, now what?"

"Well, for one thing, you're a valuable member of my team," said Trust. Lily turned to look at him in astonishment. "Yes, Evans, you heard me, and I'll be damned if I ever say it again, but there you have it. I'm loathe to let you go—what if we have emergencies that require you or your…charms?"

Lily frowned…and then she understood him. "Oh."

The spell she'd invented, the one she had received an award for, was still in the early stages of non-experimental use. Not only was it a charm the Ministry didn't want anyone even remotely connected to the Followers learning, it was above N.E.W.T. level mastery. Which Lily was immensely proud of herself over, as she should be, but the list of people who could use her charm was extremely limited. Only about ten people, Lily herself included, were allowed to use it, and only in the most extreme of circumstances.

Trust knew about the spell, unlike the rest of First Muggle Squad, and so far they hadn't needed its sort of power.

Then again, so far there hadn't been a massacre like Ottery St. Catchpole. Things were, as they always seemed to in this war, escalating dangerously.

"What are you proposing?" she asked her squad leader.

"We, as First Muggle Squad, reserve the right to pull you from school during a massive crisis," said Trust, "and same for all Muggle response squads, should they require you."

"You'd have to talk to Dumbledore about that," Lily said hesitantly.

"You'd have to say yes," he shot back.

Dagley walked over. "Come on, Evans," he pleaded. "I want you here, even if it's just for a bit."

She grimaced, and sighed. Between Trust's commanding nature and her partner's wide-eyed pleading, Lily didn't stand much of a chance even if she had wanted to say no. It was presumptuous of them to assume rights over her skills, and perhaps she should have gotten angry over it, but with a war on and more and more blatant attacks no one could afford to be angry about being useful.

And wasn't that the point, she mused, of throwing herself into the fight, without regard for personal safety? Wasn't the point to be useful in every situation?

"I'll say yes," she told them, "but it has to be a legitimate crisis. I won't be pulled out of teaching a class because you want to track down some vandal."

"Right, because that's what I was hoping to do," drawled Trust.

Lily rolled her eyes. "I'm off to take a nap," she told the two men. "Anything else you have to say, best make it quick."

"I've got nothing else," said the squad leader with shrug.

"See you at the party, then," she said, and turned toward the barracks.

Dagley followed her as she walked through the narrow passageway—she assumed that, if the walls allowed it, he'd be striding shoulder-to-shoulder with her even with a bit of a squeeze—and grabbed her arm to stop her at the women's quarters.

"Sorry for snapping," he said abruptly; he was never any good at apologies.

"No worries," said Lily.

"I just…well, you know how it is when you lose a partner."

She nodded, silently acknowledging their histories at the Ministry.

Lily had been lucky; she'd only been in field work for six years, two years after she started at the D.M.L.E. In that time she'd only had three partners. One of them, her very first, had been spectacularly short-lived since the gentleman in question had put in for a transfer not long afterwards, citing irreconcilable differences. Which was actually true—he couldn't reconcile with her Muggle-born blood, and she couldn't care less. Her second partner was an elderly scrapper of a woman who (and this Lily still had trouble dealing with) died during a raid searching for illegal and dangerous magical artifacts.

Her name had been Gertrude Fellows, and Lily had loved her dearly.

Dagley, however, had a much worse story to his name. Working in the D.M.L.E. for nearly thirteen years now, he'd had ten partners. Four of them had quit the Ministry due to old age or "political differences" (one had been fired), two others had moved to different departments, three of them had suffered gruesome deaths, and the last one, the one before he'd been partnered with Lily for the last year or so, had been hit with a Cruciatus Curse so unbearably cruel it had taken the man's mind with it.

Common suspicion placed Bellatrix Lestrange as the woman behind the wand for that particular fate. Lily was inclined to agree—she'd seen the woman at a distance twice and she had more power than anyone that sadistic had a right to. Dagley had more than once vowed to be the one to take Bellatrix Lestrange into custody.

"To be clear," Lily said carefully, "I refuse to die before I see my eightieth birthday come about. And I refuse to let you die, either, so you'll be stuck with me for a good long while."

His face was an indistinguishable medley of emotions. "All right. There are loads worse people I could get stuck with, I suppose."

"Oh, haha," she scoffed. "Watch it, or I might just stay at Hogwarts for good."

"No, can't have that," Dagley said, smirking. "You'd go mad from all the obnoxious children."

Lily rolled her eyes and stepped through the doorway that led to the women's sleeping cots, wondering if she ever could stick around at Hogwarts. For one thing, Dagley was right; the students would drive her barmy. She considered herself quite rubbish with children. And for another, she'd miss her barmy squad.


The party was just as dull as Lily had expected it to be, what with the lack of alcohol. Then again, she'd been stuck in the Atrium since four o'clock (banned from leaving by Trust) and it was currently nearly ten, so perhaps it was cabin fever that had her so frustrated.

She glanced over at the bar longingly. If she had to have one more glass of lemonade and hold the Goblin Gin, Lily thought she might scream.

Four more hours, she reminded herself. Only four.

"You look miserable," she heard from behind her.

"Oh, how could you tell?" Lily drawled, turning to smile at John Whitby.

"I think after almost fourteen years of knowing you, I've figured out your moods," he said.

"Says the idiot who couldn't figure out I was practically in love with you our seventh year," Lily shot back, rolling her eyes. It had long been a topic of amusement for the both of them; ever since they signed on to the D.M.L.E. Lily had gotten over her stupid crush on John.

He snorted. "You can't hold that against me; I was busy being Head Boy."

"Yes, because I wasn't busy as Head Girl or anything," she teased. "Besides, how could you possibly be a scholar of my moods since first year? We weren't exactly friends until after Hogwarts, you know."

"What? You didn't consider us friends those long years?" John put a hand to his heart in overdramatised shock. "Lily Evans, I am hurt."

"Don't take it so personally, Whitby; I had hardly any friends until seventh year." Lily stretched a smile onto her face as if she found this amusing.

"You had loads of friends," he argued.

"No, I had people who 'thought I was charming' but had elsewhere to be."

"What about Sarah-Jane Mosley?"

Lily stared at him. "Sarah-Jane? You do remember what happened in fourth year, don't you?"

John grimaced. "Well, yes...but why on earth are we talking about this when there much better things to think about on Christmas Eve?"

"I'm sorry, I seem to be in a bad mood. How have you been?" she asked, feeling like a horrid old Grinch for taking the conversation south. "How's Emily?"

"She's fine; we're fine," said John. He shrugged awkwardly. "I just barely get to see her these days. Most of her time is at the hospital. She hasn't come home since Ottery St. Catchpole."

Lily winced. "Oh, I didn't even think about that," she said. "It must be a nightmare."

He nodded, face drawn. "I mean, it's awful for me to think about her stuck there among all that…but, at least I know she's relatively safe, you know?"

Oh, she understood perfectly. "It's never easy, is it? No matter what job you take."

John looked thoughtful for a moment, and then grinned. "Speaking of jobs, what's this I hear from Dagley? You're taking a year off to teach at Hogwarts, is that right?"

"That obnoxious gossip," she grumbled. "Honestly, he's worse than a fifth year before a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Come now, you can't blame him for spreading some halfway decent news around," said John. "After all, that sort of thing is getting harder and harder to come by these days. I, for one, am very happy for you, Lils; I think teaching suits you." On the surface, his words were sincere enough, but Lily knew him well enough to detect the teasing underneath.

She smacked him lightly on the chest, rolling her eyes.

"Are we beating up Ravenclaws again?"

Lily shook her head. "Only a Hufflepuff would even care about Houses this long out of Hogwarts."

"Only a Gryffindor would dare to tell a Hufflepuff that sort of thing to her face," Cassie shot back, although she wasn't serious in the least. She had a goblet full of elf-made wine in her hand that Lily and John eyed jealously, and although she had circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, Lily could tell Cassie was less anxious today than she had been the day before.

"And proof that Lily Evans had a friend before seventh year arrives," said John. He glanced warily at Cassie. "Ladies, if you don't mind, Kieran has suggested a prank we might play on Trust later, so I'm off to see what's up his sleeve. Try not to murder anyone, Delaney."

"I make no promises," said Cassie, and made a big show of sighing in relief as he walked away. "I thought you'd gotten over that."

"What, John?" Lily laughed softly. "He's married, silly. I'm friends with his wife. I even set them up."

Cassie sniffed. "You tend to hold on to things, you know. Especially crushes you should leave behind."

"I think Hogwarts is long over, Cas," she said.

"Hogwarts is never over," proclaimed another voice loudly.

Lily's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Mags?"

Margot Keller came up and slung her arm around Lily's shoulder, her glass of firewhiskey sloshing dangerously close to the brim—and yet miraculously never falling out. "Don't look so surprised, Lily; when is there ever a party that I don't attend?"

"Perhaps a staff only party?" suggested Cassie, barely hiding a smirk.

"Oh, but I know so many people here," said Margot, waving this off as a minor inconvenience. "And the number of dress robes I made that people are wearing tonight…well, I might as well be employed by the Ministry myself, considering all the business this lot gives me."

"And yet."

Lily flashed a quick but pointed glare and Cassie rearranged her disdainful expression into one with something resembling civility.

"Did you come here with anyone?" Lily asked, wrapping an arm around Margot's waist affectionately.

"No, not tonight," said Margot, tossing her hair out of her face. "I thought I'd mix things up and arrive stag. That's alright, isn't it?"

"Of course, sweetie," said Lily. She patted her friend's stomach. "You're always welcome."

"Always," echoed Cassie. Lily couldn't quite believe her.

Neither could Margot, it seemed, and she rested her head on Lily's shoulder possessively. "When are we going for drinks again?" she asked them. "I've missed you both so much; business has been picking up for the holiday parties but I'd love to squeeze in a night of fun before you're off to Hogwarts."

Lily groaned. "Oh, who told you?"

"I think it was Lucy Grant," Margot said, waving her free hand around vaguely. "Anyway, congratulations. Is this the first we're hearing about it?"

"Lily told me on Monday," announced Cassie.

"Oh?" said Margot, with an air of indulgence. "How nice for you to have such…proximity."

On any other night, Lily might have let them go on for hours. She knew neither of them intended any true harm, but as the only sober one of the three, she'd already grown weary and the conversation hadn't even lasted two minutes.

She opened her mouth to snap at the pair, but a commotion near the lifts sufficiently distracted all of them.

A crowd formed around one lift in particular, and although Lily was not tall enough to see inside she thought there was more than one person making an entrance. She heard excited babbling, indistinguishable from one voice to the next. Cassie stiffened, and Lily cast a glance over to see her friend's usually stoic face fluctuate with emotion.

"Pardon," Cassie said distantly, and began to push her way through the crowd with little regard for others. Her abnormally sharp elbows came in handy as she squeezed through a solid mass of people, disappearing from view shortly after.

"What's going on?" Margot asked, as if Lily would have the answers.

"Dunno; maybe the event staff hired a band or something," she said. Lily doubted her words even as they came out of her mouth.

"Like anyone cool would turn up to play at a Ministry party," scoffed Margot. "The only musician these oafs could wrangle into a show would be Celestina Warbeck."

Lily snorted. "You have an irrational hatred of that woman."

Loud cheering came from the epicenter of the crowd, and Lily strained to hear what was happening.

"I can't help it," Margot said, rising to the balls of her feet and craning her neck. Lily didn't have the heart to shush her, even if it would do any good. "She…she's so irritating, and her lyrics are shit. Besides, I've met her; ageing old broad putting on airs like she's twenty-five, stepping into my shop and acting like the center of the bloody universe."

"And you stuck her with more than a few needles during fitting, as I recall."

"You bet your pert little arse I did."

The crowd began to disperse, and Lily gripped Margot's waist tightly. "It's the Prewetts!"

Cassie's arms were wrapped tightly around one of the redheaded twins (she assumed Fabian; at this distance she couldn't tell them apart), and the other was busy shaking hands with several Aurors. Lily thought she saw the neatly dressed Crouch standing in the queue.

"They must have caught Peridenn," said John in Lily's ear. She jumped a little and glanced over at him. "Good on them—slippery bastard didn't stand a chance."

"Civilian present," she muttered, jerking her head to her right.

"Oh, she's not listening," John whispered back.

It was true; Margot was describing in excited detail how happy the reunited couple looked, and wondering if Cassie would mind Margot having a go at Gideon.

"You didn't go far," observed Lily, her voice still low. "Kieran's prank a bit of a dud?"

"Well, obviously," he said. "Besides, you know I try to stay out of Delaney's way if I can help it. If she had her way I'd have long been buried in a ditch."

"You know it's not personal," said Lily, watching her best friend kissing Fabian sweetly. Cassie's smile was beyond exuberant. "She's just…"

"Same as ever?" John snorted. Lily grimaced in apology.

Margot leaned over. "Why are you two not listening to me? I said, doesn't Cassie look nice when she smiles?"

Lily exchanged a look with John. "Oh, yes," she agreed solemnly.

"I mean, she's obviously drop-dead gorgeous," continued Margot, lost in her own train of thought. "I'd pay mounds of Galleons for her to model my designs. But you never really notice her looks, what with all the glaring and the shouting. It's not very appealing to most people."

"That's probably the point," John observed.

"Well, she does look lovely when she's smiling," said Margot resolutely, "And I'll tell her so the next time she starts being mean."

"You won't have to wait long; she's headed this way."

Lily glanced over at the drinks table again and sighed. Oh, yes, this was going to be a very fun night.


Unlike many of her friends and colleagues, when Lily woke up in the morning after an alcohol-filled night she had perfect recollection of the events leading up to her slumber. For example, she remembered that at two o'clock in the morning Christmas Day, not a second after her on-call shift ended, she had downed three glasses of Goblin Gin at the staff party before migrating with Margot, Cassie, Fabian, and Gideon to a Muggle pub and consuming a fair amount of their beer on tap.

She also remembered stumbling before Apparition, and Cassie insisting on taking Lily home with her and Fabian to avoid splinching all by her lonesome. Lily recalled falling onto the couch in the couple's flat, facedown and ready to get some sleep, and a dim, half-slumbering recollection of Fabian draping a blanket over her.

Still, it was a bit of a shock to wake up in someone else's flat, especially when that someone else was watching her sleep.

"That's dead creepy," she mumbled, pushing her hair out of her face.

"I didn't know if you were going to wake up at all," said Fabian, shrugging. To Lily's relief, he spoke quietly.

She looked around the room, thrown off by the mature light shining through the window to her left. "What time is it?"

"Nearly three o'clock," he told her. She grimaced. "If it makes you feel better, I only woke up an hour ago."

"And I assume Cas woke up at some ungodly hour," Lily mused. She sat up, clutching the blanket around her and groaning as her head began to pound.

"Crouch called her in for some last-minute thing at about ten this morning," said Fabian. "Come on, I've got your remedy."

Lily watched him leave the room before standing and, after a moment to collect herself from the sudden vertigo, stumbled toward the bathroom and shut the door quietly. She went to the sink and splashed some water on her face (warm, not cool) before looking up at her reflection.

Oh, she was a wreck.

In the last two days—now three, she remembered slowly—Lily hadn't had much chance or wherewithal to find a mirror. It showed; the lack of make-up, the heavy eyelids, the cracked lips and hopelessly tangled hair staring back all told her she was becoming one of those people, the sort that threw herself into work and abandoned any semblance of self-care. Although, she noted somewhat vainly, even with those obvious signs of neglect she was still beautiful.

She clung to that sometimes, when things seemed impossible. Everyone needed something stupid and constant to hold onto and for Lily it was her appearance. She'd gotten lucky in her inheritance, taking more after her father in looks whereas (and she felt guilty at this thought) Petunia had been less graced by taking after their mother.

Lily sighed and shook off thoughts of her family; that was another lifetime.

Her dress was all a mess. She tugged it off, breathing out as the cold air of the bathroom hit her sweaty skin. She shook it out and reached for her wand to do a spell—but her wand wasn't on the counter, of course. Fabian probably had it tucked away in that safe place he kept putting her things in. Lily tugged the dress back on with some misery and left the bathroom.

"In the kitchen," Fabian called gently.

The sound of his voice led her past the sitting room where she found not only Fabian but also Gideon at the kitchen counter.

Gideon looked how Lily felt. Unlike the perpetually chipper Fabian, who rarely let anything faze him, Gideon seemed to be suffering from both his week in the wild and a hard night's drink all at the same time. In his left hand he nursed a glass of what Lily assumed to be that remedy she was promised, and his right hand cradled his head.

"Mrmng," mumbled Gideon.

"Good morning." Lily glanced over at Fabian as he held out a glass. "Mine?"

"Drink it slow," he advised, and Lily took a seat next to Gideon.

After a few minutes, she said to the twins, "I'm glad you're not dead. We were very worried."

"Me too," said Gideon. "Worried about lots of things. Innat right, Fab?"

"I've always known you to worry unnecessarily," Fabian replied. He stretched his arms. "Anyway, I wrote up a report of what happened while you two were asleep. I just need you to sign it, Gid."

"That was fast," observed Lily. Her head was beginning to unfog little by little.

Fabian smiled. "I keep records on missions."

"Completely accurate records," added Gideon, though unlike Fabian his scowl remained firmly in place.

Lily leaned to her left and bumped him with her shoulder. "Cheer up, Gid, it's Christmas."

He raised his eyebrows as he turned to look at her. "So it is. I'd almost forgotten."

She grinned, her headache all cleared away at last.

"Do you have any plans for today, Lil?" asked Fabian as he cleared away her and Gideon's glasses with a wave of his wand. They settled in the sink gently.

"I was going to pull a cracker by my lonesome, get out a bottle of Odgen's Old, and possibly turn on the radio," she said with a shrug.

"That's dead depressing," Fabian told her.

Lily shrugged again. Her last Christmas had been spent in the field, searching for three missing members of the First Muggle Squad. Knee-deep in muddy snow and freezing cold even with the benefits of heating charms, hoping to anything and everything that all her team would come back alive, missing Tim and feeling guilty for it - honestly, with all that, the idea of a drunk Christmas seemed not only relaxing but downright cheerful.

Gideon cleared his throat. "Well, it's just me and the couple," he said, "At least when Cassie gets back. I'm not keen on playing third wheel again, if you'd like to keep me company."

"I don't know," said Lily somewhat doubtfully. She wasn't fond of intruding in planned events.

"Marley McKinnon's about to speak on the radio," said Gideon. "If you want to listen in with us, maybe, and then decide after?"

Lily sat up a bit straighter. "That's right," she observed. "I forgot it's Saturday already. I'll stick around for that."

She was a fan of Marlene McKinnon's addresses—in fact, she was a fan of the woman herself. She'd skipped last Saturday's address on account of alternately screaming and crying on the same couch she slept on last night after her wretched break-up with Tim, but she'd heard it was a good one.

"I'll tune us up, then," said Fabian, and went into the sitting room. He poked his head back in the kitchen not two seconds later. "Lily, you'll be wanting this, I'm assuming?" He tossed her wand over, and she caught it by the barest tip of her fingers.

Strains of Celestina Warbeck floated through to the kitchen. After a few minutes, Lily caught Gideon's eye with a smirk.

"Oh, shut up," he snapped good-naturedly and stopped swaying in his seat. "My sister danced to this song at her wedding. She adores Celestina."

"She adores Celestina?" teased Lily.

"Alright, I'm not entirely immune to a few of her numbers," admitted Gideon with a wry grin. He Summoned a bottle of Elf-Made Wine from a cabinet and two glasses followed shortly. "Now shut up and drink up, or I'll have to do something about your smart mouth. You should really start to watch that; professors aren't supposed to be feisty."

"Yes, I suppose I'll have to become frightfully dull," she mused. Gideon poured a glass for her, and then for himself.

"I don't imagine you have far to go for that."

Lily smacked him just as Fabian walked in.

"Oh, stop it, you two," he said half-heartedly, not bothering to even act indignant anymore. "It's starting—come on in."

Gideon bumped Lily, shoulder to shoulder, before standing wearily.

"Getting old, grandpa?" said Lily as she stood, feeling similarly worn.

"Never so old that I couldn't beat you in a duel."

"I'd like to see you try," Lily replied as they entered the sitting room. In all honesty, she really wouldn't like to see him try, nor Fabian. The twins' ability to duel—often as a synchronised pair—was much lauded among the Auror community, and Dumbledore himself, the world's finest wizard, had given the Prewetts a public commendation. If Lily were ever to face even one of them in a duel, she would not be nearly so glib.

Gideon sunk onto the same couch Lily had slept on the night before, and she followed suit wearily.

"Turn it up, yeah?" Gideon asked of his brother, who obliged.

"...in recent weeks, but no one has seen the group since their disastrous record album On a Golden Songbird was released two years ago," the reporter was saying. "So far, The Pisky Patrol has not released a statement confirming or denying their attempts toward a new and hopefully much improved album. Personally, I'm looking forward to seeing a return for these musicians. I loved their debut record Falling Off Broomsticks and it would be a shame if the last thing Patrol ever released was that commercialised wreck."

"Thank you, Fortus," said a more familiar voice. "That was Fortus Mezze, giving us the latest in musical news. Once again, I'm your host, Roger Jordan, bringing you the news on our independent broadcast The Howler. Thank you for tuning in and choosing us as your source of information."

Fabian sat down in the armchair closest to the wireless and held his wand absently in one hand.

"And now Marlene McKinnon, President of the Alliance of Magic-Born Beings, is here for her regularly scheduled Saturday address. Today I have the rare honour of speaking to Miss McKinnon myself—and she's just signed on. Hello, Marlene, how are you this morning?"

"Doing well, Roger, thank you," said Marlene McKinnon. Lily sat up a bit straighter. "And a Happy Christmas to you."

"Yes, Happy Christmas to you as well. I understand you're here to discuss tolerance."

"That I am."

"I suppose that's a Christmas-themed conversation, if you stretch your definition of Christmas."

"On the contrary, Roger, it's a very Christmas-themed conversation to have," Marlene disagreed, although not unkindly. "If you think about the meaning of Christmas, it makes perfect sense. Christmas is about goodwill between others, no matter what. I was raised in a large family with lots of fighting between siblings and cousins, and aunts and uncles and parents; it's nearly impossible to get every McKinnon to agree most of the year, but on Christmas we all come together in Stirling Mansion and no matter our differences, we all manage to look past that and enjoy each other."

"Are you at Stirling right now?"

"I am, along with my cousin Cailean. Had to drag him out of the office, but we're all here."

"Well, past my best along to the Minister."

"I will."

"And you believe your family can set an example for the Wizarding World at large?"

"I do, Roger. Tolerance is something we must give as people, not because the other person has earned it—Merlin knows half my cousins deserve to be trussed up—but the other person deserves it on principle."

"Interesting, Marlene—how do you mean?"

"What I mean is...well, let's take for example the recent literature published by a Vol…You-Know-Who supporter. In the pamphlet the supporter states all Muggle-borns should prove their right to hold at Gringotts, work in businesses and government, even use a wand. This pamphlet claims in the same vein these Muggle-borns should be specially tested in order to determine competence, whereas purebloods are...I have it right here...ah. 'Purebloods are by nature highly unlikely to be anything but highly efficient in use of magic, since the ability to apply magic is passed through the bloodline and a much stronger lineage increases the inheritance of magic.'"

"You know, I read a recent study claiming that more Squibs are born into pureblood families than mixed heritage."

"I read that study myself, Roger, and I agree with its findings, but that's an entirely different conversation."

"Ah, you mean about inbreeding?"

Lily glanced at both twins with some worry—she knew that, among old pureblood families, the subject of inbreeding was a touchy one. Fabian's face was a little darker at the mention.

"Yes, let's not talk about that now. My point is that, first of all, following the logic applied in that literature, anyone who has enough magic to receive a Hogwarts letter is already qualified to carry a wand. Muggle-born witches and wizards are sent Hogwarts letters specifically because they exhibited enough magic to be noticed by our Ministry's Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Secondly, if a witch or wizard at Hogwarts—or any foreign school, for that matter—passes the required O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s for the job they have applied to, they have already proved their competence."

"Quite true."

"Thank you, Roger."

"But how is this related to tolerance, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all; I was just getting to that."

"Right, sorry."

"Not a problem. It is important to note that, while this literature claims that purebloods are inherently better than Muggle-borns or even half-bloods, the very system that induces Muggle-borns into our magical society debunks that myth. It's all simply fear that creates such vile hatred in others; fear of the unknown and fear of evolution and change. We are a changing society, and to fear that change sows nothing but discord and pain amongst the entire magical community.

"So what is the greatest counter to fear?" she prompted, and then answered herself. "Tolerance. Not love, but simple, easy tolerance. We accept that Muggle-borns have a place in our world. We, the vestiges of an old society, accept the growing number of Muggle-borns in our work, in our schools, and in our day-to-day life. I don't ask any one person to enjoy this change, nor to love - that is too much. But to say, yes, we can coexist, in small steps, is something that even the most fervent of fanatics can achieve."

"That's an excellent point, Marlene, but what about pureblood hatred of Muggles, themselves?"

"I suppose ...when it comes to Muggles, we must accept there is a Muggle world and a Wizarding world, and the two are mostly separate. Not entirely, however; this radio is a Muggle design, adapted by wizards. That could be a solid argument toward tolerance of Muggles—the inventions they bring us are often revolutionary...I'm sorry, while I do believe in treating Muggles with respect and decency, this Alliance speaks toward beings born of magic, and I feel more comfortable letting other organisations speak on behalf of Muggles themselves, rather than an unresearched secondary source."

"Such as Friends of Muggles?"

This time it was Lily's turn to tense up at an uncomfortable subject. In theory, she respected Friends of Muggles and what the organisation stood for, but in practice...they seemed to miss the point more often than not.

"Exactly, and I believe their thoughts on this part of the discussion would be much more informative."

"We're actually hosting a discussion with Friends of Muggles in a few weeks here; I'll be sure to ask their opinion."

"I greatly look forward to hearing it."

"Are there any other groups of Magic-born Beings that you feel deserve tolerance besides Muggle-borns?"

"Oh, certainly. There are, of course, the centaurs, who have long been persecuted and denied their rights as both beast, which they classify themselves as, and intelligent beings. Centaurs were once scholars and teachers of wizards, long before official schools of magic were—"

A piercing whine started up all of a sudden, sharp and loud and reverberating inside Lily's very skull.

"Shut it off!" yelled Gideon beside her. "Shut it off!" He was clutching his hands to his ears in some vain attempt to block out the sound, and through the sharp pain in her head Lily realised she was doing the same.

"What is that?" she screamed.

The noise stopped just as suddenly as it started, leaving in its wake a crushing silence that gave Lily a headache.

"...and under the Centaur Registration Act of 1783, all centaurs who refuse to register are considered criminals, which means that all centaurs are criminals because not a single one has ever—"

"Sorry!" called Cassie from the foyer. "I forgot anyone else would be here!"

"Sorry," Fabian echoed sheepishly as he fiddled with the volume, muffling Marlene's address. He appeared entirely unaffected by that dreadful sound.

Lily massaged her temples. "What," she said quietly, with a touch of irritation, "in Merlin's name was that?"

"These two idiots," answered Gideon. "They've rigged an alarm to go off if anyone's inside their flat besides the two of them."

"Sorry!" Cassie repeated as she stepped inside. "Lils, I swear I thought you'd be gone by now." She paused and turned to the radio. "Marley's on?"

"Yeah, she's on one of her centaur bends," said Fabian. "Give it a few minutes."

"And while we're waiting, how about you explain that dreadful alarm system to me," suggested Lily. She plastered a smile on her face that was too false to pass for anything else.

Fabian rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's...sort of a copy of the alarm system in the Atrium," he said. "But instead of when anyone unauthorised Apparates inside sets off an alarm, intruders here...well, it's a bit of a defence mechanism. They hear a sound and we don't as soon as we arrive inside."

"So you torture your guests?"

"Not intentionally..."

"That's about five Ministry regulations broken," Lily muttered.

Cassie sighed and threw herself into the remaining empty armchair. "Oh lighten up, Lils. We usually turn it off when we have guests. If you recall, you didn't catch a whisper of it last weekend."

Fabian reached over and put his hand on top of hers. Cassie didn't show any sign of receiving this affection, but she didn't pull away, either.

"I suppose I'll have to let it go," Lily conceded, "since it's three Aurors against one lowly Hogwarts professor."

"Two Aurors."

"Alright, Gid, you can be on my side, but we're still horribly outnumbered."

"Oh, I don't know," said Fabian with a wicked grin, "the thought of you and Cas dueling is far too entertaining. Who would win?"

Lily shook her head. "That's not something we ever want to find out. Let's move on, shall we; Cassie, how was the Ministry this morning? Have there been any attacks since yesterday?"

"None," said Cassie. "It's been mercifully quiet. Makes me wonder what those bloody Followers are up to. Moody just pulled me in to talk about paperwork is all."

"But..." Lily frowned. "I thought you went in to talk to Crouch this morning."

It was only a split second, but she didn't miss the flicker of Cassie's eyes to Fabian, and the same of his eyes to her.

"Crouch called me in," Cassie corrected herself, "and then I talked to Moody after that. That's why I was gone so long."

"Alright then," Lily said slowly. She looked over at the wireless. "I think Marley's done with the centaur talk, if you want to turn the sound up a bit."

Looking relieved, Fabian turned the dial up again and Marlene McKinnon's discussion on tolerance continued.

Lily knew it was silly; Crouch did have a tendency to pull people into his office for hours on end... it was a perfectly reasonable explanation, but a small knot of distrust began to twist in her belly all the same. She could no more shake it off than find evidence to prove herself right, and Lily felt wretched on top of that for doubting her best friend.

All the same, after seven years of fighting dark magic Lily had learned to trust her instincts, and right now her instincts were sending a very clear signal that something was off.


Lily spent the morning after Christmas finally cleaning up after the fit she'd thrown over a week ago when she and Tim split. She hadn't possessed either the time or motivation—and still had none of the latter—to devote to the state of her sitting room, but if Dagley were to move in here New Year's Day it would have to be habitable.

She used her wand for the more dangerous things, broken vases and trinkets, but for the simpler things Lily used her hands.

Her mother had taught Lily when she was still a child that working with one's hands was its own reward. At the time, Lily hadn't agreed, and even less so when she'd started attending Hogwarts—because if she could do magic, what was the point in using her hands? It seemed foolish and wasteful; there were so many other things she could do with her time than clean.

But after leaving Hogwarts and living on her own after getting a job at the Ministry, after her parents died...after all that, she'd learned the value in working with her hands and the soreness and satisfaction of a good clean. Tim always laughed at her when she spent a morning scrubbing down her kitchen, telling her it was silly.

(They would fight about it constantly, and somehow end up on a counter top with half their clothes off. Lily was convinced that, were the sex not nearly so good, she and Tim would have long since parted ways.)

The truth of it was, Lily never felt so at peace as when she went through a cleaning spree. She only had to focus on whatever was at hand, and if her gramophone was on, not much else crossed her mind. No thoughts of death, mayhem, pain...any of it bothered her when she had grime to wash away. She didn't have to think about those things.

What she did have to think about was boxing up her things to take with her. There was so much to do in between now and New Year's Day, so much to assemble and discard...

A knock sounded on her door.

"One moment," Lily called.

She stood, groaning slightly after her long genuflection upon the hard kitchen floors. She wondered briefly if her old age wasn't catching up with her early, and dismissed the thought near as soon as it came into her head. Before heading to the door she checked her reflection in the mirror; if it was Dumbledore again, Lily did not want to demonstrate herself twice a slob.

After removing the locking spells she had placed on her door (all tuned to her wand uniquely, to avoid any nasty surprises), she pulled it open.

"Happy Boxing Day," said Margot, a large bouquet of flowers in her hands. "Or, if you prefer, Happy belated Christmas."

Lily smiled warmly. "Oh, you."

"May I come in?"

"Always," said Lily, and opened the door wider to allow her friend inside. She stepped back and narrowly avoided a face full of flowers.

"I know you're heading off to Hogwarts soon, and I thought I could stop by and help you pack up," Margot explained as she set the vase down on Lily's coffee table. "It is, after all, Boxing Day, and you need to box things, so I thought why not come over? The shop's closed today so I would have been swanning around with nothing to do, and you know how I get when I'm bored."

"That I do. Tea?"

Margot shuddered. "Please don't. I've had your tea."

She suppressed a snort. "Well, I was just doing some kitchen cleaning, if you want to come and visit in there."

"Ooh, yes. I love watching you act like a Muggle."

"I'm not acting like a Muggle, I'm acting like a Muggle-born. Which I am."

"Whichever you like," said Margot, following Lily through the sitting room and into the tiny kitchen. She grabbed one of the two rickety (and miraculously sturdy) stools, nimbly climbing onto the seat with the refined air of practice and natural grace.

Lily resumed her cleaning, this time with a little more self-conscious than before due to her audience.

"Where did you go after the pub?" she asked Margot. "I lost track of you."

"So you do remember!" her friend exclaimed excitedly. "You were so sloshed at that point I wasn't sure if you even remembered your own name. I only went home afterwards; my mother decided to come to England for Christmas this year and I'm obliged to spend time with her, even if she is barmier than a bowtruckle in water."

"Mags, that's unkind," Lily said softly.

Margot sighed heavily. "I know it is, but I can't help it. She's only been getting worse since the war started. Gives her bad memories."

Lily nodded and said nothing further.

The Keller family history was not a mystery to Lily. Margot had explained in full why her mother was so peculiar the first time Lily had met the woman, and even though Mrs Keller had been...well, horrible during that first meeting, Lily could feel nothing but sorry for her.

She settled into a rhythm of cleaning and didn't even realise how much time had passed from their last words until Margot began hitting her heel against the stool rung.

"Sorry to bore you," Lily apologised. "I'm almost done."

"A good Scourgify would get that out in a second," Margot said, not unkindly.

"But it's not nearly so fun."

"Merlin forbid you call this menial labor fun."

"I make my own fun," said Lily. She stood, groaning a little as she stretched herself out. "Besides, it builds character."

Margot grinned. "If you build any more character than you already have, the rest of us might cease to amuse you altogether."

"Oh, hush," she said, and took to the somewhat sticky countertops.

Neither of them said anything for a few moments. Lily didn't mind being quiet with Margot—they were certainly comfortable enough with each other—but right now, she wished a little bit that something could distract her from her thoughts other than the repetitive sound of shoe against wood.

Margot sighed loudly. "So..." she began, as if sensing Lily's wants.

"So...what?"

"So, I met someone yesterday."

"Someone or someone?" asked Lily.

"Someone. We met at Gringotts."

"How romantic."

"Well, yes, it's not exactly Madam Puddifoots, but considering you met your last bloke in an office—"

"Mags."

"All I'm saying is that a little perspective goes a long way."

Lily couldn't help but to smile. "Alright, you got my attention. Who is this mystery man?"

"His name is Robert," said Margot. Lily turned and saw a dreamy smile on her friend's face. "Robert Bell. He's ever so dashing."

"Dashing?" she teased.

"Dashing, in the textbook definition of the word," Margot confirmed. "He's polite, well-dressed, handsome, very clever, and he's got a fantastic smile. Never trust a bloke without a good smile."

"I'll keep that in mind..."

"Anyhow, we're meeting up for dinner on Wednesday."

Lily shook her head. "Am I going to get any specific detail on this bloke?"

"Hmm...let's see," said Margot, pretending to ponder. "Oh, that's right; no!"

"Is he married?"

"No. Never trying that again."

"In a relationship with anyone else at all?"

"Merlin's pants, Lily!"

"I have to ask," Lily said apologetically. "You remember what happened the one time I didn't."

Margot rolled her eyes. "First of all, I wasn't even involved with him. We had one conversation about one book, I say we should meet up at Flourish and Blotts, and then that idiot goes and tells his girlfriend that I was flirting with him. Honestly, he wasn't even my type to begin with."

She snorted. "Oh, Mags. Really."

"Well he wasn't."

"Moving on; does he work at the Ministry at all?"

"No."

"What does he do?"

"I believe you just broke the rules of the game."

"I didn't realise there was a game," said Lily dryly. She put her elbow into scrubbing away a particularly stubborn patch of grime.

"How long have you known me, Lily?" Margot asked with a toss of her hair.

Lily shrugged. "Fair point. Then, I suppose...is he older than you?"

"Yes."

"Than me?"

"Yes."

"Than Dumbledore?"

"Lily Adelaide Evans—"

"I'm only joking!" she laughed. "All 'rules of the game' aside, how old is this Robert Bell of yours?"

"Fifty-two."

Lily stopped scrubbing. "You're not serious."

"I am!" said Margot defensively. "He's fifty-two years old and doesn't look a day over forty."

"I can't pick out the worst part of that sentence..."

"Oh, you know age doesn't matter," Margot dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Cassie's twelve years younger than Fabian but they get on just fine. Better than fine."

She put the sponge down, unsure of how to approach this. "Mags...I don't mean to sound judgmental—Merlin knows I love you no matter what—but that's more than twice your age."

"I don't see why that has to matter," her friend said seriously. "I know it's unconventional. I'm not stupid. But I haven't felt this way about anyone in ages and letting some silly taboo about different...ages..." Lily suppressed a snicker. "Well, what I mean to say is, it's only a date and I don't intend to marry the man, and even if I did what's the harm?"

"Not harm exactly..."

"What are you so worried about?"

"Men who are older than you..." Lily paused, thinking on how best to phrase this. "They have power in the relationship. They have experience—"

"I know, isn't it wonderful?"

"—and they usually want different things than someone our age."

Margot shook her head. "I know you mean well, Lily, but I am seeing him Wednesday whether or not you approve, and I'd rather you encourage me."

"You know I just want you to be happy," she said. "Just be careful, alright?"

"I will. And are you done yet? I see you've stopped scrubbing."

Lily rolled her eyes. "I suppose I am for the day. I have a present for you, by the way. It's not much—Ministry salary, you know—but I thought of you when I saw it."

"I'm sure to love it."

Lily grabbed her wand off the counter and silently Summoned the present from her bottom dresser drawer. The wrapped bundle came zooming in, and Lily caught it before it could fly into her chest.

Margot reached out for the present eagerly, ripping it open with as much vigor as a small child.

"Oh, Lily," she gasped when she pulled out the necklace. "Oh, it's perfect!"

"It's not high quality," Lily said with some embarrassment. "The metal isn't precious at all, and the gems are just transfigured rocks—"

"Lily, it's from you!" exclaimed Margot. "That makes it high quality."

"Thank you," she answered awkwardly. "I...well, I'm glad you like it."

The blonde grinned widely. "Yes, of course I do. And I have a present for you, as well, though it's not here, and it's not quite finished. I worked on it a bit yesterday—do you remember that time I took your and Cassie's measurements?"

"Yes..." Lily said, the memory vague.

"Well, I was designing you both some lovely dresses, and then Lucy told me you were off to Hogwarts and I thought, well, I simply couldn't let you leave London without some proper new robes, so I drew some up and I'm just picking out the fabric. If you have time off tomorrow at all, come visit the shop and we can make the perfect set. Your dress will just wait until your birthday."

"Oh, Mags..." She felt terribly guilty. "Margot, that's just too much! I can't accept that from you!"

"Don't you dare, Lily Evans," said Margot, frowning. "I love designing for my friends, and you are my best friend. It's fun for me, and don't you dare tell me I mustn't."

Lily shook her head. "It's just not equal at all," she said, trying to explain. Margot had grown up with money, whereas Lily had not, and Margot didn't understand what it was to receive an expensive gift without being able to reciprocate. "I gave you some cheap necklace and you're offering me a wardrobe."

"Because I want to!" insisted her friend. "Lily, it has nothing to do with price. I'm designing it with or without you, and you'll take it and say thank you because it is a gift."

She sighed, feeling utterly wretched. "Oh...help me pack then," she told Margot. "And I'll find something to give you of mine, otherwise I'll feel like I'm in your debt."

Margot slid off the stood and followed Lily out of the kitchen. "Alright. But only because I came over here to do just that, and I really don't need anything from you."

Lily rolled her eyes as they entered her bedroom. "If you like." She changed subjects hastily to avoid a spat, saying, "I was planning on using an Undetectable Extension Charm, or perhaps a Dual Compartment spell."

"Can you make rooms in an Extension Charm?"

She shook her head. "Not really. You can organise it but it's a bit of a waste since one good shake can tumble everything together."

"Dual Compartment," Margot said decisively. "Books and clothes should never be packed together if you can help it. They seem to tear at each other when left to their own devices."

"This is why we're friends," said Lily. She Summoned her old trunk from the closet and set it down on the foot of her bed, pursing her lips. "I don't suppose you've got any good glamour spells to put over this thing?"

"As if you don't, Madam Charms Professor."

"Yes, but you're the more sophisticated of us," she returned. "I bet you know all sorts of little tricks for wears and tears hidden up your sleeve. Out with it."

Margot wore an amused smile. "Fine, then. But I shan't tell you what it is." She stepped to the trunk and tapped her wand on it once, twice, three times…and the faded brown returned to its former richness, the gold metal shining once more. It looked just the same as the day she'd bought it in Diagon Alley fourteen years ago.

Lily took her own wand to the restored trunk, and began the complex bit of magic that was involved in Dual Compartment spells. Essentially, it was creating alternate spaces, like a room that was only there part of the time. Creating something that fluctuated in and out of being and making it stable required no small amount of concentration and conviction.

After what Lily hoped was a successful spellcasting, she put her wand down. "I was thinking books first," she said. "As a professor and all, they really should come first."

"As a designer, I'll tell you clothes should always come first," Margot disagreed cheerfully. "You can teach without a book if you must, but heaven forbid you have a book and no clothes."

"Depends on what you're teaching."

"You randy little witch."


"And you're absolutely sure?"

Lily smiled. "You know, my answer won't change just because you keep asking me," she said. She looked back down at the stacks of parchment she was sorting out. Lily had long kept the habit of saving every bit of paper she used on the off chance that it would become useful again, a behavior acquired during her studies at Hogwarts. Now that she was clearing out her desk, Lily thought perhaps she might need to revise her practices.

"Well, I hate to lose you," said Milicent Bagnold.

"I'm only gone for the year," Lily assured her, then frowned. "I can come back after the year, can't I?"

"That's what we agreed."

"Good," Lily said with some relief.

Bagnold frowned in apparent confusion. "If you're so keen to come back to the Ministry, why go to Hogwarts at all?"

"Dumbledore asked me," she said. "I'm a Muggle-born; I owe him my entire education, plus the recommendation to you to get me started at the Ministry."

"To be honest, it was Horace Slughorn that got you the job," Bagnold told her. "The man's never led me wrong about a student before. So you don't owe him that. Besides, I like having you here. I trust you, Evans."

Lily grinned at the woman.

Milicent Bagnold—short, thin, and dark—was the Principal Staff Officer, which allotted her a certain amount of control over the Head of Departments. To say Bagnold held most of the power of the Ministry in her hand would not be far off the mark.

And she was, at least in Lily's estimation, a decent woman. Bagnold was not only a smart and exceptionally skilled witch, she was also fair and believed in giving anyone who had talent, no matter what their heritage was, a chance to prove themselves useful. Lily counted herself lucky to get on with Bagnold so comfortably.

"I do want to come back," Lily said honestly. "I don't fancy working with children for more than a year, if that. But after...well, what happened in Ottery St. Catchpole...I mean to say—"

"I know," said Bagnold, her voice gentle. "It's enough to make anyone lose their stomach for this fight. But we need to keep fighting, and if teaching for a year is what you need to come back to us then that's what you'll do. I just want you to know if you're sure about this."

"Yes, I am."

"Once you start, you can't decide to quit if you don't like it," the older woman warned. "That's a year."

Lily nodded. "I keep my promises," she said. There was only ever one promise Lily had backed out of, and it was due to the other person involved entirely. It was a point of pride with her.

"Do you need any help with this, then?" Bagnold asked, gesturing to the half-packed desk.

"Oh, no," said Lily. "I'm sure you have better things to do on New Year's Eve than box up my cubicle."

"You overestimate me," Bagnold said, smiling, "But I'll leave you be. Owl me when Slughorn has one of his little get-togethers."

She began to back out of the small cubicle, but stopped abruptly.

Lily looked up and saw that Bagnold's exit was blocked by Trust. His hands were gripping both sides of the doorframe as if he had just caught himself against it; indeed, he seemed flushed and slightly out of breath.

"Evans," he said in a low, measured voice, "we've been called in."

Her throat tightened. "What? Why?"

"There's something happening in a Muggle neighborhood," Trust explained. It was remarkable how he sounded calmest when truly upset. "Grab your wand and follow me."

Lily glanced at Bagnold, whose face was taut with worry. She did not say goodbye to the woman. (No one in the Ministry said goodbye these days. It was bad luck.) All she did was drop the stacks of papers in her hands and pick up her wand, nodding at Bagnold on her way past into the corridor.

"What do we know?" Lily asked.

"I got word three minutes ago that a neighborhood in Surrey is under attack," said Trust. Lily struggled to keep up with his brisk pace. "Meg's sending word across the Floo network; Holmes and Lennox were already here. They're meeting us in the Atrium. Same with the Prewett set."

She halted for a moment, then scrambled forward to ask, "Aurors?"

"Yeah, Aurors." Trust looked grim. "Like I said, we don't know the nature of the attack, but three Traces were set off, and all by defensive magic."

"Underage magic?" Lily frowned in confusion, trying to ignore that little tingle of fear running up her spine. "How does that—"

"Around the same time, an alarm rigged to go off at the Ministry started going mad," he continued, effectively ignoring her. "A Wizarding house. The alarm was to protect the residents from Dark Magic, and if it went off, that means something very dangerous got through the barriers. And if three separate Traces indicated defensive magic—"

Lily and Trust began to sprint toward the lifts as they saw one about to close. "Hold it!" Lily shouted desperately, and a hand swung out to stop the doors from touching.

Kieran's head poked out. "Hurry up!" he snapped. "Merlin and Morgana, the two of you move like—"

"Not now, Holmes," said Trust, and there was no arguing with the man when he was that calm and collected. They entered the lift and watched as the doors closed with an agonising slowness. "Now, the first thing I want you to do is grab your partner. If they're not here yet, wait on them. As soon as we're all together, the twelve of us will the alley closest to the house where the alarm was set off."

"Is there a map?" asked Kieran.

"What sort of a question is that?" asked Trust. "Of course there's a map."

"Well it doesn't hurt to ask—"

"Since it's such a stupid question—"

"And we suspect the attack is spread throughout the neighborhood?" Lily interrupted, wholly uninterested in watching the two men bicker at a time like this.

Trust nodded. "At least a square mile so far as we know."

"Merlin's pants," hissed Kieran. "Kids are fighting something while we're riding around in an elevator. I feel bloody useless."

"We can't go charging in without the full Squad," said Trust, "but believe me, Holmes, I understand."

Lily began tapping the fingers of her free hand against her thigh (the one not gripping her wand so hard it was in danger of snapping). Seconds felt like hours, and the minute it took to get from the second floor was as long as a lifetime.

Trust led the two of them out of the lift, both jogging to keep up.

By one of the Floo fireplaces stood Meg MacMillan, hunched over a table that looked as if it were conjured by Lennox, who was at her right side. On the other side of Meg hovered Gideon and Gloria Shacklebolt, the senior of what the rest of the Ministry called "the Prewett set".

"I can't seem to reach Whitby," said Meg as soon as they got close. A map spread out over the length of the table top. "Kieran, do you have any way of contacting him for emergencies?"

"He said he and the missus were out to dinner tonight," said Kieran. "I can grab him and be back in a minute."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Kieran threw an eye-roll at Trust before turning on his heel and Disapparating with a loud pop.

"Sh-should we call in a full Obliviator Squad?" Lennox asked.

"Not yet," said Trust, shaking his head. "Let's contain the situation first. Shacklebolt, where are your other two?"

"Fabian's on a date," answered Gideon. His eyes were fixed on the map as he drew lines upon the thick parchment. "I sent him a message. It won't be long."

"Robards had the night off so I can't account for his whereabouts," Gloria Shacklebolt chimed in. At six feet, she had to stoop to examine Gideon's markings. Her bald head gleamed under the lights in the Atrium. "I got owls to his flat and his parents' house, but it looks like we might have to go without—"

A fireplace flared up a little bit ahead of them. Lily glanced up and felt her chest release a small knot of tension as Dagley stumbled out, coughing and covered in soot. He brushed himself off irritably.

"I hate Floo travel," he grumbled. He met Lily's eyes and hurried over to her.

"Let's do a briefing now," Trust suggested to Shacklebolt. "If you'd like to take point, as senior employee—"

"Don't call me a senior," she said sharply. "And since you're so damn eager to get this started, you can do the honors, Trust."

Lily and Dagley exchanged small grins in spite of the severity of the situation.

"Very well," said Trust, to his credit seeming only mildly chastised. "If you'll all take a look at this map...oh, budge over, Lennox, there's no need for personal boundaries at time like this—now, if you see here, the neighborhood in question is suburban, with three parks and several alleys. It's a recent Muggle construction, built within the last ten years."

"The alarm on the Wizarding residence went off here—" Meg pointed to a spot on the west side of the neighborhood with her wand, marking the house with a glowing red spot, "—and the Traces went off when the underage witches or wizards in question—"

A pop that signaled Apparition nearly had Lily jumping out of her skin, not that it was such a large feat at the moment, what with her nerves in such a wired state. She didn't glance behind her, trusting Shacklebolt's quick and dismissive check. Seconds later, a fireplace roared to life and two distinctly male voices coughed soot out of their lungs.

"As I was saying," Meg continued, raising her voice so that the newcomers could hear, "the three Traces of underage magic went off in these separate locations." She touched the map with her wand to leave more glowing marks, one at a location near the park in the middle, one several blocks away to the west, and the third directly on top of the alarm. The three new marks were almost in a straight line, as if in trajectory...

Lily frowned, hardly noticing when a body squeezed between her and Trust on her left. Dagley moved in closer on her right, presumably to make more room for the two others.

"Did the Traces go off simultaneously?" she asked, pulling out her own wand from her pocket.

"Nearly," answered Meg. "The monitors received them all within almost a minute of each other."

"Is it possible the kids were just playing around?" asked John. Lily glanced up and realized he had been the person edging in beside her. "Kids play sometimes when they shouldn't, and that might have triggered the alarm."

"It's possible, yes, but not likely," said Shacklebolt, a darkly thoughtful look plaguing her face.

"Besides, they'd all be in bed at this time, not up and about," Meg interceded.

Lily shook her head. "No, they would be. It's New Year's Eve. But here's the thing..." Her wand lowered and tapped the first mark softly, the one that matched up with the Wizarding alarm. "Was this the first Trace that went off, Meg?" Behind her, another pop went off, but she was focusing more on her squad member's face.

Meg's eyes were narrowed and unseeing; Lily could almost see the same thought that had occurred to her blossoming in Meg's head. And then a bit of blood drained out of her face as she understood what Lily was trying to get at. That paleness confirmed for Lily what she'd been suspecting and she was nearly certain her complexion was similarly white.

"It was," Meg said tersely.

"And then this one?"

"Yes."

Lily drew a line between the three, starting with the one in the park and outward, passing the third mark and continuing on. A faint gold glimmer followed her wand tip as she drew to her destination. There was a church on the west edge of the neighborhood, boldly marked on the map. And beyond the church was a cemetery.

For a brief moment the rest of the assembled team paused to reach the same conclusion as Lily and Meg.

"Prewetts, I want you coming near the middle," said Shacklebolt. Lily glanced up and was surprised to see Fabian standing next to his brother, as if he'd been there the whole time. She looked around and saw the return of Kieran along with newcomer Lucy, both pressing in around the table on Meg's left. "Robards won't be showing up tonight, so I'll latch onto Trust and his partner."

"Meg, you and Grant are with them," Trust shot off, not to be outdone. "Contain the area. Whatever the hell that is, it's moving fast and we've got Muggles and scared children out there. Holmes and Whitby, you're with me. Evans and Dagley, you're with the Prewetts too."

"If anything goes horribly wrong, head to the house with the Wizarding alarm," Shacklebolt continued. "Chances are you'll find sanctuary with a witch or wizard instead of breaching the International Statue of Secrecy. Always, always stay with your partner. You lot know the rules."

"Stay safe," Meg said to Trust. Lily watched the pair of them. She couldn't help but wonder what torture it must be to love someone and not fight by their side. Of course, if Lily ever loved someone (and Tim didn't really count), she wouldn't want them fighting alongside her in the first place.

Trust's group began Apparating, with a loud succession of pops that echoed through the silent Atrium.

Lily cast her eyes toward Gideon and then to Dagley, who met her gaze with his own. They nodded to each other and, as if they'd practised it together many times before, they both turned on their heels and Disapparated.


The moment Lily Apparated into their designated alley she knew something was horribly wrong. Worse than a simple Follower attack (if there was such a thing), and worse than Lily had been expecting. The very night framed itself as a horror, with the moon only a sliver and the stars faint through a thin layer of clouds.

And it was fortunate the light from both moon and stars were so absent, because otherwise they might not have noticed so easily the other, more frightening tell that all was not peaceful on this good night.

"Why aren't there any street lights?" asked Lucy hesitantly. "And the lights in the houses…shouldn't there be lights on inside the homes?"

"You'd think Muggles would be smart enough to keep their street lights on in an attack, stead've shutting them off," said Fabian. He raised his wand warily, stepping forward to peer around the corner. "See what they're up against and all."

"They are," said Lily, somewhat cross. "Just because they can't do magic doesn't mean they're full of bricks for brains, you arse."

"Calm down, Evans," said Dagley as he stepped up to join Fabian on point. "This one's not far from pureblood idiots spouting off about what they don't know; some of that's got to have sunk in."

"Not hardly," Fabian muttered, as if distracted. "I mean to say, you'd figure Muggles smart enough to keep the street lights on, so why are they off?"

Gideon nodded and moved forward to join his brother and Dagley as they approached the mouth of the alley. All three men's wands were raised in wariness of an attack. "You ladies coming or what?" he said over his shoulder.

"I'd rather let you find out what we're getting into and then ably prepare myself than barrel forward with no warning," said Lucy.

"And if you die in the discovery, take comfort in the knowledge that your failure will result in our success," Lily added in some amusement.

Gideon turned around exasperatedly, no doubt ready to fire a quip at her in return, but he tripped and nearly landed on his face.

"Oy!" hissed Fabian. "Enough messing around!"

"I'm not," said Gideon slowly as he rolled over into a sitting position. Lily could barely make him out in utter darkness. "There's something on the ground…"

She was tired of squinting. "Lumos," she incanted, and aimed the beam of light toward Gideon.

The entire group recoiled in disgust. Gideon scrambled away on his hands and feet; he would have looked rather silly if he weren't trying to get away from a severed arm. It looked as though the arm had been chewed off just above the elbow; it was still oozing blood and steaming slightly in the cold air.

"What the hell?" Meg repeated, before shaking herself. "Lucy, we'll head left. Prewetts, centre. Dagley, you and Lily on the right."

A high-pitched scream wrenched the air.

"That was a kid!" said Fabian as he stretched out a hand to help his brother up.

"Lucy, come on!" Meg and Lucy took off into the darkness, lighting their wands as they went. The Prewetts followed them, Gideon stumbling a bit in his haste to match his brother's speed.

"Dags—"

"I know, I know," he muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Off we go." Dagley took the lead, jogging out of the alley and making a sharp right. Lily knew from the map that the direction they headed in was furthest away from the cemetery, and therefore least likely to meet whatever it was that came out from it—then again, if a dismembered limb was in their designated alley, there was no telling how far this thing had come.

She glanced at the houses around them, her footfalls slowing, and she began to lag behind Dagley as an intuitive worry seeped through her skin.

It was New Year's Eve, not even midnight yet—surely lights would be on in the houses? Weren't people awake? It had been years since Lily lived as a Muggle but she was certain the tellies would be on across the neighbourhood. Fabian had been right when he'd said Muggles would keep their lights on in an attack, whether they be street lights, porch lights, or even a bulb in the kitchen.

Unless it was something that needed the darkness. Unless this was part of the attack.

Lily hadn't heard of wizards messing with Muggle technology, since most of the Followers believed themselves superior to such things. That sort of forethought meant that a half-blood, or at least a wizard versed in Muggle Studies—

Something caught her eye to the left.

"Dags!" she called out harshly. "Dags, stop!"

"What?" he snapped, but she could hear the sounds of his jogging cease. "Lily, we've got to keep—"

Lily raised her wand and shouted, "Reducto!"

The creature she'd aimed at shrieked (or was it moaned? Keened?) as it blew apart. She rushed forward before her spell had even finished, clomping up the wide steps to the quaint front porch and nearly slipped in the cascading puddle of blood. It dripped down the wooden steps like a polluted waterfall. Lily tried not hard not to gag but felt her chest heave despite her best efforts. She put a hand over her mouth.

The man whose blood was pooling down the steps was still alive; he was gasping in loud, raspy breaths for air and though unable to move seemed more than willing to fight for his life. Lily tried not to look at his half-eaten leg for too long; he could not see the extent of the damage and the expression on her face would not help.

She aimed her wand toward the sky and shot up red sparks—a signal for medical attention at the earliest possible moment. Lily had a sinking suspicion that she was not the first to send up red sparks but daren't look at the sky to see just how many casualties had been discovered…and how many were to follow.

"It's alright now," she told the man soothingly. She fought against the still present urge to heave at the sight and smell. "It's gone."

"It…what?" he croaked.

"Someone will be by to explain everything," Lily promised.

She heard the clatter of boots on the porch steps behind her. "Merlin's pants," gasped Dagley. "Jesus, Evans, what's happened here?"

"Wait a moment," she warned. To the man she said, "Are there any more of them about? Just point to show me where they've gone."

"There," he rasped, pointing to the alley across the street. "Leads…park. Son…"

Lily's heart dropped. "We'll help your son, I promise," she whispered, "but we'll have to leave you. Someone will be by soon to take care of you; will you be alright until then?"

The man nodded slowly, as if the act cost him a great effort—and Lily knew that it must have. The pain he was most likely experiencing had her stomach rolling in sympathy.

"Dags, come on," she said, standing from her crouch. She marched down the steps—albeit with caution—and extended her wand before her nervously. If her hand was shaking hard enough for Dagley to see...well, she had every right to a trembling hand after seeing that, and he'd seen her shaken before anyhow. This time, it was he who followed her lead as they ran down the alley the man had pointed toward.

"Evans, what was it?" he demanded once they were out of the wounded man's earshot.

"And Inferius," she replied shortly.

Dagley nearly stumbled. "Jesus Christ," he swore. "And you think there's more than one? They don't exactly travel in packs, what with the eating of each other's—"

"Yes, thank you, that's exactly the thought I wish to be having right now," Lily snapped as her stomach rolled again. "He said there was another. Probably two. They're what came out of—shit!"

She stopped and shone her light on a spatter of blood against the alley all.

"Don't," said Dagley, and put a hand to her shoulder. She let the warmth of his touch linger. "Don't think like that. Even first years should know how to use a Shield Charm."

"That won't do them much good if they're paralysed with fear," she replied. "And…and not all of them are witches and wizards."

But he was right; imagining what reasons there might be for that splash of blood on the wall would only get her caught up in her head and not thinking straight, which was what she needed to be doing right now.

Dagley squeezed her shoulder before letting go. "Let's move, Lily."

Hearing her given name from him resonated enough for her to put one foot in front of another. She began to run again, ignoring the growing cramp in her side and shortness of breath.

The alley let out into a park, a winding path cutting through the snow-covered hills. Ahead of them stood a crop of trees with a dusting of snow on the fir branches. The sliver of moonlight, pointless until now, reflected off the white snow enough to lessen her squint into the darkness. For the first time that night, Lily could see her breath on the air and realised it was icy cold outside.

She lifted her wand and shone it to the left in a search pattern while Dagley did the same on the right. There was a trail cutting close to them on the left, she saw, marked several small footprints winding their way to the tree line. Dagley nudged her and pointed at a separate trail…one with long lines instead of footprints. Dragging feet, a mark of an Inferius.

Her heart raced with a mix of adrenaline and fear.

"Go on ahead," he whispered. "I'll cover you from behind."

Lily nodded and ran into the trees. She could hear only the blood pounding in her ears and her footfalls and hoped Dagley wasn't too far off, so that he could tell her if something was coming up behind her.

The thought nestled into her chest and she felt a tingling sensation on her neck. She spun pointing her wandlight frantically in all directions. It was impossible to tell if a looming figure was a tree or a monster at first glance and that uncertainty only increased her fear. Her chest convulsed in deep, shaky breaths that she could not reign in.

A cold hand grabbed her shoulder. Something moaned by her ear.

"No!" she shrieked, and tried to pull away.

The hand gripped tighter.

"Reducto!"

The blast pushed her to the snow-covered ground. The wind was knocked from her as her gut collided with a tree root and she wheezed, desperate to gain control over her body once more.

"You alright?"

Lily blinked. Was that…

A hand extended down to her, open and waiting for her to grab hold. She reached up with a trembling arm and let Gideon Prewett haul her to her feet.

"Lost your cool a bit, hmm?" he said, brushing at her front forcefully. Clumps of dirt and snow fell off her from his movements. "Sorry we used you as bait but, er, it was necessary."

He pointed up; she followed the direction of his finger.

Three children sat on a large tree branch above them, two small boys and one girl with a wand gripped tightly in her hand.

"I can't get down," the girl told them in a quiet, anxious voice. "I can't let go of it."

"I know, you've said," Gideon answered brusquely. "Fab? You still there?"

"Area's secure for now," Fabian called, striding through a couple of trees to join them. The tightness of fear in Lily's chest began to relax at the sight of him. "Lily? Where did you come from?"

"She's my bait," said Gideon.

Lily pursed her lips; her chest still ached from her fall to the ground.

"What's your name?" she called up to the small girl, ignoring both twins. She didn't want to look at Gideon; if she did, he might see how furious she was. How could he blow up an Inferius right in front of the children? What on earth was he thinking?

"An…Annie," the girl managed. "Annie Miyamura."

Lily smiled up at her. "My name is Lily Evans. This is Gideon Prewett and his brother Fabian. We're from the Ministry, so you're going to be safe now," she promised. "Fabian's going to climb up and get you three, alright?"

"Alright," Annie agreed in a whisper.

"I am?" muttered Fabian.

Lily shot him a look before turning her attention back to the children. "Annie, you've done a good thing tonight," she told the girl. "Climbing up where they can't get you? You must be very smart. Are you in fourth year? Fifth?"

Annie cracked a tentative smile. "Second."

"Second?" Lily gaped in comic exaggeration, which prompted Annie's smile to grow slightly. In all honesty, she'd thought the girl was in first year. "That's very impressive, then! You'll definitely get loads of house points for tonight. What house are you in?"

Fabian had made it to the children. Lily watched as the smallest boy slung himself around Fabian's neck and the older boy (still younger than Annie) positioned himself to follow Fabian down the tree, where Gideon waited at the bottom to catch him. Lily could just catch the sounds of Fabian's reassuring words to the boys.

"Gryffindor," said Annie. "I'm in Gryffindor."

"I should have guessed," Lily grinned. "You're such a brave girl. You know, I was in Gryffindor, too."

"Really?"

The boys were on the ground now. Fabian lowered the smaller boy from his hold and the child immediately clung to the other boy. Lily could see now they looked similar to each other, brothers or cousins most likely. She wondered if one of them was the son of the man she'd found earlier. Gideon shepherded the two boys away from the tree trunk as Fabian went back up to get Annie.

"Really," Lily confirmed. "So was Fabian, there. Gideon was in Ravenclaw, though."

"'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure,'" Gideon recited, his voice puffing out into the frozen air.

Fabian eased himself up to Annie's branch. "Come here now, lassie, let's get you down." He took Annie in his arms carefully.

Lily turned to Gideon and the children at his feet. "What about you two?" she asked the small boys. "Do you know what Hogwarts is?"

Both of them shook their heads with eyes wide and full of terror.

Her heart began to sink. "That's alright," she promised them. "That's just fine. We'll—"

A loud bang! sounded from the town. Lily whipped her head to peer through the trees and could just make out something flickering past the branches.

"What the hell?" Fabian said, coming to stand beside her.

"No idea," she murmured.

A small hand tucked into hers. Lily glanced down and saw Annie staring up at her with a tear-streaked face. She tightened her grip on both her wand and Annie's hand. Perhaps she wasn't a professor of Hogwarts yet, but this girl would be her student soon and Lily was swarmed with an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

"This is a bad place to be," Gideon announced. "We've got no visibility; Inferi could sneak up on us from any direction."

"I don't understand how there's more than one," insisted Fabian. "We've killed at least three, there shouldn't be anymore!"

"But there are," Lily pointed out.

"Is this the time?" snapped Gideon. "Let's get everyone to safety first, then we'll talk about Inferi, yeah?"

Fabian blew out a frustrated sigh. "Head to the clearing. We need to see what we're dealing with."

Gideon scooped up the smaller boy and slung him over his shoulder, Fabian hurrying forward to do the same with the other boy. Lily kept her grip on Annie and followed them, keeping her lit wand up and ready as they headed toward the light beyond the trees.

When they reached the tree line, the twins lurched to a halt. Lily swung to their left and looked out—and wished she hadn't as Annie whimpered beside her.

Thick, dark smoke billowed upwards and out in a mushroom shape as a house burned below it, hot and bright, so bright that Lily could see all around her. She saw the snow-coated hills in perfect clarity, and what cast the shadows on them.

"They must have smelled us," she murmured.

"Nah, they're running away from the fire," Gideon argued. "They've got to know it'll kill them."

The children were safer in the tree, she realised grimly.

"How many d'you reckon?" Fabian grunted.

"Oh, about six or so," she offered in what was supposed to be a flippant tone. She couldn't lose her cool again, not now, not when Annie Miyamura was depending on her like this. But it was hard to ignore the cold squeezing her chest, the renewed panic at seeing so many Inferi together.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Inferi weren't supposed to attack in groups.

"Boys," Gideon said bracingly, "I'm sorry about this. If it makes you feel any better, you won't remember a thing. Not a thing."

"Gid!" Lily and Fabian scolded together.

"They won't remember that, either."

For the shortest of moments, Lily nearly (nearly) forgot about the danger they were in and rolled her eyes.

"We've got to keep them back," Fabian said. "Lily, get a Shield Charm up now. Gid, offensive attacks, I'll take the boy."

Lily brought up her spell, heart pounding. One of the Inferi was lurching forward in the snow, dragging its feet slowly but surely towards them. Just as it neared the perimeter of her Shield, a stream of blue fire blasted out to meet it. The Inferius burned up quickly but managed to release a death keen before turning to ash.

"Damn it, Gid!" Lily cried, pulling Annie behind her. "You do realise these are actually temporary defences?"

The Shield Charm was flickering, some of the integrity compromised by Gideon's spell.

"What, did you want it on the Shield?" he snapped back.

"No, but warn me before you blow a hole through my spell!"

"Here's your warning, then!"

Another shot of blue fire went out to meet two Inferi. It forked slightly and managed to engulf both creatures in one blow. Lily gritted her teeth and put all of her intent on keeping the Shield whole despite the damage. A sheen of sweat started to form upon her brow and instantly froze in the cold night air. She shivered.

"I can't keep this up forever," she shouted to Fabian.

"I know! I—" He turned his whole body to little Annie. "You can do sparks, right? Second year, surely you can send up sparks?"

"I…I can," she answered.

Fabian knelt, both his arms around the boys and holding tightly. "Annie, I want you to send up blue sparks, alright? Loads of them, straight up in the air. Can you do that?"

Lily wasn't looking in Annie's direction, instead putting her focus on her Shield Charm, but Annie must have nodded because Lily felt the integrity of her spell lessen once again and saw sparks shooting beyond the Shield and into the smoky sky.

"Bollocks," she muttered.

It was a good idea—though not recognised by the Ministry as a whole, the D.M.L.E. had devised a system of coloured sparks in the field to signal each other. For example, red was the colour of medical attention, green the presence of Followers, and white was the all-clear. Blue sparks were a call to arms, a sign of duress, and Fabian was alerting the rest of the team to the mass of Inferi headed to their ragtag group.

But the thing was, if Lily couldn't hold the spell long enough for back up to arrive, the sparks would only serve as a beacon to more Inferi in the area. Risky was putting it lightly.

Gideon took aim and sent out more fire to an approaching Inferius, the stream blasting through her spell and lasting too long, past the point of the Inferius' demise…

And her Shield flickered out of existence. Lily screamed through her teeth in terrified frustration.

"Get the charm back up!" Fabian roared as another Inferius staggered forward.

"Shut up!" she yelled, and snapped her wand at the monster. "Reducto!"

"Get it back up!"

"PROTEGO!" Gideon bellowed, encompassing them in another Shield. "Damn," he added as Annie's sparks shot through the top.

Lily scoffed and turned her full attention to the monsters. She dropped Annie's hand and stepped forward, sizing up her choices. There was one on the right that was coming closer…

She raised her wand and prepared to blast the thing to pieces, but a stream of red fire took it out before she could cast her spell.

"You alright?" someone hollered.

Lily squinted; his face was in shadow, but she knew that frame by heart. "John!" she cried out. Her legs went weak with relief and she fell to her knees in the snow. "Annie, you can stop now," she told the girl. "We're going to be alright."

Gideon kept the Shield up as John (and Kieran, running up to join his partner) blasted the rest of the Inferi out of existence. Lily watched and felt her body shake with leftover adrenaline and fear as each monster turned to ash.

"What the hell is going on?" Kieran demanded after the last Inferi went out in blue flames from his wand. Gideon lowered the Shield and Kieran strode up to pull Lily to her feet. "I've never seen so many Inferi in my life—more than one in the same place, at that! Have you seen the town? Muggles everywhere, all ravaged and—"

"Shush!" Lily snapped, taking a step to the side and revealing the three children, all of whom were openly crying now that the danger had passed. From the looks of it, the smallest boy had wet himself.

"Merlin and Morgana," Kieran cursed. He put his free hand to his neck and rubbed. "Have you seen any Followers yet?"

"None," she told him, and reached back to grab Annie's hand once more. "Have the Medi-wizards arrived?"

"Yeah," said John as he joined the group. "They showed up just after Shacklebolt blew up that house over there. There were about, what, ten Inferi? And instead of taking them all out she just decided to burn the entire thing and get the monsters all in one go."

"Sounds familiar," said Gideon. "Let's get these kids out of the cold, yeah? And we're going to need an Obliviator Squad at the ready."

Kieran nodded. "One of those are coming in, too, but Lennox is here if it's an emergency."

Lily breathed in the smoky air as they headed toward the burning house. At least there it would be warm, and the children could stop shivering from the cold—though the fear would take longer to shake off.

"You don't have to remember this, Annie," she told the girl beside her. "If you want your memory wiped—"

"No."

She looked down. Annie's face had added a few trails of tears from red-rimmed eyes. Her nose ran, the snot dripping off her upper lip, and her lower lip was bleeding. The girl had chewed on it, Lily realised.

"I'm a witch, aren't I?" she asked Lily in a tremulous voice. "I can't…it isn't…I'm a Gryffindor."

Lily's heart clenched. "You are," she agreed. "Alright. You keep your memories, but if you need to talk to someone about what happened tonight, you can talk to me."

She was going to tell Annie that they'd see each other again in a week, once Lily arrived at Hogwarts, but when she glanced up she saw Trust hurrying towards her.

"I'll take the girl," Gideon said beside her. "Go on."

Lily stepped forward, dropping Annie's hand once again. "Squad Leader," she greeted, fixing a smirk on her face. "Suppose you wanted to start the New Year with a bang, hmm?"

"Evans—"

"Thought you said it'd be a quiet night," she went on. Her chest continued to shake from the stress of the night, but she couldn't show that to him, not now. "I guess it was as a bit dead, wasn't it?"

"Evans," Trust repeated, his voice horribly calm.

She took a good look at him and saw his face was white. "Don't like the Inferi?"

"Listen to me," he told her, and she stopped her teasing. "Listen. Meg and Grant ran into a spot of trouble."

"What?" her heart dropped into her stomach. "Are they—"

"Meg's at St. Mungo's now," said Trust. He crossed his arms. "Grant's with her. But listen, it wasn't serious because—"

"Oh, thank Merlin—"

"—because Dagley got in between Meg and a couple of Inferi. He's in rough shape, Evans, and we've got to get to the hospital right now."

Lily staggered back. "He—"

He was supposed to be right behind her…

No. No, no, no.

She'd forgotten about him. In the heat of everything, with the children and the Inferius in the trees, she'd forgotten all about him and he'd—

Lily whirled around and fell to the ground, vomiting up the small serving of supper she'd eaten that evening.


A heartfelt thanks to everyone who put this story on alert or even favorite after only one chapter! All the support I've gotten so far has been amazing. I especially appreciate your reviews! I can't wait to hear theories for what will happen next ;) Writing action scenes aren't my strong suit, but I'd like to think I'm getting better at it. What say you?