10/09/2017

Phoenix

"They had leaned on each other and laughed until tears had come, while everyone else – the cold and where he'd go in it - was outside, for a while anyway."
Raymond Carver, Distance and Other Stories

Ted Tonks, while perhaps not a handsome man in the generic use of the term, was decidedly pleasant looking. He had a mop of blond hair that seemed to have been allowed to grow freely without much tending and now hung to his shoulders. His fair face and arms were smattered with large, dark freckles at such a quantity that they sat thickly enough to almost resemble a suntan. He had a reassuring sort of smile, unassuming and not very serious, that spread across his face frequently to reveal wide, uneven teeth. He gave the impression, at least to James Potter, that very little worried him. He gave the impression, with his slow rhythmic voice and northern accent, that nothing all too awful could occur within his vicinity.

Until that morning on Saturday the 26th of May, 1978, James Potter had known Ted Tonks as nothing more than the Muggle-born that Anna Black had eloped with.

'What's that?' he had asked in an undertone, inclining himself to Ted so the other patrons would not overhear. 'What's the Order?'

Ted was prevented from replying by the sharp look his wife gave him. Andromeda Tonks looked immaculate even when she was scowling.

Despite knowing them so well through stories of dismay relayed by Sirius, the couple had not been what he had been expecting. Happier than he would have imagined, softer and not so tragic as rumours would have him believe. He was introduced to them beneath the dim candlelight of the squalid inn on Saturday the 26th of May 1978.

He had been waiting for that day for what felt like months, but was in truth more close to years. He had been waiting for that day since that summer when he had hoisted Severus Snape into the air by his ankles and Lily Evans had told him to stop. He had been waiting for that day since he first felt that burn of lust and longing when he knew that he wanted her, because Saturday the 26th of May 1978 was the day that James and Lily Potter would remember as their first date.

The many incarnations of this date that arose in James's imaginations, first beginning in fourth year when Lily Evans had hexed Mulciber and James had thought to himself she's not so bad, none of them came close to resembling what transgressed on Saturday the 26th of May 1978.

On Saturday, the 26th of May, James Potter had never heard the name Antonin Dolohov, and knew Rodolphus Lestrange only as the husband of Sirius's mad cousin, but within a year he would know them both well; within a year he would have ducked away from their killing curses and fired his wand at them as he fled for his life.

On Saturday, the 26th of May, the Daily Prophet arrived with its front page smattered with news of the death of nineteen Muggles in Winchester. What the Prophet did not report that it was Antonin Dolohov and Rodolphus Lestrange had orchestrated said murders, backed by a hoard of nameless underlings.

NINETEEN DEAD IN WINCHESTER ATTACK proclaimed the front of Remus Lupin's morning paper and the prefect felt his heart pound in his chest and he inclined over the table and spread out the Prophet over their plates of toast, calling his comrades to attention.

'I said forget it, Padfoot.'

'But you promised, Prongs.'

'I didn't know I'd have other plans!'

'Look at this,' said Remus, brandishing the paper at them.

'I don't see why you can't just bring her along.'

'How do you think she's gonna take to that idea? She's bloody scary when she's mad, you know.'

'Shut up, the pair of you,' demanded Remus. 'Look.'

The photograph on the paper's front page bearing a city street condensed to rubble brought them to a halt. The investigating officers were confunded into believing a gas leak was to blame. Minister for Magic Harold Minchum offered his condolences to Prime Minister James Callaghan. In the weeks to come, the Muggle parliamentarians would push for an inquiry into faulty gas lines and the Auror Office would begin its own investigation, which would quickly hit a dead end. The names of the dead would not make it into any Wizarding publications.

'Shit,' said James.

'Fuck,' said Sirius.

'It's just going to keep getting worse, isn't it?' said Peter.

Remus was silent. His aunt lived in Winchester.

'Minchum needs to do something,' proclaimed James, as if he was the first to suggest such a thing. 'That makes forty dead this year alone and the Ministry's still pretending these lunatics are some vague annoyance.'

'Yeah, but what can he do?' said Sirius. 'He doesn't have enough support in the Wizengamot. They're not gonna have any obligation to help until it's witches and wizards that start getting killed.'

'They already have,' growled James. 'They just haven't been able to link it back to the Death Eaters.'

'I'm going to the owlery,' Remus announced, getting to his feet. 'To write to my mum.'

'I'll come with you,' said Peter, who was looking at Remus as if expecting him to faint.

They departed and James snatched up Remus's abandoned paper, scanning the article, beginning to read aloud for Sirius.

'Don't,' he warned the head boy. 'I don't want to know. It's too depressing.'

'Fine.'

'Eat your bacon,' Sirius instructed, 'and let's get back to what you're going to do about Evans.'

Up in Gryffindor tower, Lily Evans was braiding her hair. The elation she had felt upon waking had been sucked from her with the arrival of Mary MacDonald, who had flown into the dormitory brandishing the morning paper.

'Have you seen this?' she demanded of her dorm-mate. 'Another lot dead.'

Lily took the paper and scanned the article. 'Oh, God.'

Mary collapsed onto her four-poster, watching the head girl as she read. 'Lily, you can't wear that.'

Lily tore her eyes from the paper to glance down at herself. 'Why not?'

'You like too virginal. Put on something with just a smidge of vigour.'

Lily referred to Hestia. 'Hestia, do I look too virginal?'

Hestia paused in her lipstick application to cast the redhead a rather withering look. 'Yes, dear. As always.'

Scowling, Lily tossed the paper away and crossed to the trunk lying at the foot of her bed to search for a stand-in for the yellow sundress she had selected that morning.

'I can't believe you're dating James Potter,' Marlene McKinnon told her wistfully. 'It's so cute.'

'It's horrid, is what it is,' said Mary.

'One drink,' said Lily bitterly. 'Not dating. One drink. Is that so terrible?'

They told her that it was, that she had abandoned her morals, that she had gone soft, that she ought to keep a closer eye on her morning pumpkin juice to discourage slips of love potion, but when the time came to give their blessing to the tartan skirt and tan turtleneck Lily had donned they did so.

Marlene McKinnon and Hestia Fortescue were not to know that their reservations towards Lily's plans on their final Hogsmeade trip were not without their merit. Marlene McKinnon and Hestia Fortescue were not to know that by James Potter's utterance of do you have plans this Saturday had changed the course of history.

Marlene McKinnon and Hestia Fortescue were not to know that James Potter, who in the past they had been far more apt at tolerating than the girl he would marry had been, would stand alongside them as they threw themselves into battle. Marlene McKinnon and Hestia Fortescue were not to know that history would know them well.

Marlene McKinnon and Hestia Fortescue were only to know, as almost anyone who was asked could tell you, that this was indeed a very bad idea.

'It wasn't my idea,' he told her. 'If I could get out of it I would.'

'It's alright,' she told him, though it was the furthest thing from alright she could think of.

'I'd much sooner do something else,' he continued, as if she hadn't spoken, 'only I did promise.'

'Yes, I know.'

'He asked me weeks ago. I totally forgot about it. I'd never had said yes if I had no idea we'd be – have made plans.'

She nodded, straightening the hem of her skirt. 'Where are we meeting them?'

'Er – you heard of the Hog's Head?'

Lily's nose wrinkled. 'Oh, yeah, it's, um… eccentric.'

'Eccentric as it can get,' said James. 'Sirius picked it. He doesn't want to run into anyone.'

'Oh, okay.'

'His family's mental, you know? He can't bear to see them alone – not that his cousin's mental. I mean, I haven't met her, but I'm sure you'll like her. She's very – er – regal.'

Lily frowned at this, and he did not blame her, but she managed to nod none the less. 'It's okay. I understand.'

'You don't mind, do you?'

'Course not,' she said bracingly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 'Shall we go, then?'

'Sure. Sirius is waiting downstairs.'

Dear Sirius, the letter had read. Can you ever forgive me?

'Fuck no,' he had muttered, but it had been a lie.

I would like to see you and I hope you feel the same. When is your next Hogsmeade weekend? Ted and I will meet you in the village.

'He's going to murder you in your sleep tonight for making him do this. You do know that, right?'

'You don't get an opinion, Moony,' snapped Sirius. 'Study day. You both sicken me. It's our last ever Hogsmeade visit.'

'Nine days, Sirius.'

'Tell me, Lupin, what is it you're going to have to live for once you can no longer deliver a real-time countdown to exams?'

'Don't start,' said Peter. 'Moony, are we going to the library or what?'

'Hold on. I want to see if Lily actually shows up. For all we know this could all be a figment of James's imagination.'

Sirius sniggered. 'God, I hope it's true. The blow-out from this one's gonna be to die for.'

'How long do you think it will last?' asked Peter.

'Oh, I reckon she'll have hexed him before we even make it down to the village,' said Sirius jovially.

'I'll give him the benefit of the doubt,' said Remus. 'He's been killing himself trying to hold his tongue around her since first term. I reckon he'll make it to a second date.'

Sirius looked alarmed. 'You're joking.'

'Second date,' said Remus, 'and then they'll realise they're innately incompatible and never mention each other's names ever again.'

Peter sighed. 'That would be too good to be true. Imagine a world in which we don't have to listen to daily updates on Lily Evans's every move.'

'You seem confident, Remus,' said Sirius. 'Care to make a bet?'

Remus cocked an eyebrow. 'How much?'

'Oh, Merlin,' muttered Peter.

'A galleon?' offered Sirius.

'And what's the bet exactly?'

'Whether or not the date is a disaster.'

'Too subjective,' dismissed Remus. 'Even if it is a disaster you know James is going to say it was brilliant just to shut us up. We need more specifics.'

'Whether they kiss?' suggested Peter hopefully.

'Boring,' said Sirius. 'How about whether they shag?'

Peter groaned. 'James is gonna kill you both.'

'I wouldn't give James that much credit,' said Remus. 'How about whether they make it to a second date?'

'Yeah, but who knows how long that'll take? I don't want to be waiting too long for my money, Lupin. I don't really plan to dick around with you lot anymore once school's finished, you see.'

Peter looked alarmed. 'Why not? What did we do?'

'Here he comes,' said Remus, glancing up the marble staircase. 'Second date. Take it or leave it.'

Sirius scowled up at the head boy and girl descending the stairs, before he grabbed Remus's hand and gave it a vigorous shake. 'Fine. Deal.'

'Morning, Lily,' said Peter as she and James reached them.

'Hi, Peter,' said Lily warmly, though she was eyeing him and Remus rather suspiciously. 'Are you and Remus coming too?'

'Wish we could,' said Remus. 'Study day.'

'Oh, that's a shame. Morning, Sirius.'

'Morning, Evans. Excited?'

'Oh, very much so. I've always wanted to meet your cousin and now the day's finally here.'

She said this brightly, though there was definite edge in her voice and James seemed to wither slightly beside her.

'Well,' he said hurriedly, before Sirius had the chance to retort, 'we may as well get going, yeah?'

'Brilliant idea, Prongs,' said Sirius.

'Excellent,' said Peter.

'Have fun,' said Remus, offering Lily a rather sympathetic smile, before they started off out of the entrance hall.

Saturday, the 26th of May 1978, appeared to many to be a mundane sort of day, but not for others.

For nineteen families in Winchester, the 26th of May 1978 marked the worst day of their lives.

For Lily Evans, the 26th of May 1978 marked the worst first date she had ever endured.

For James Potter, the 26th of May 1978 marked the day he would stare at Ted Tonks across the beer-stained table and know that his days of complacency were over.

For Regulus Black, the 26th of May 1978 marked the beginning of the end.

'To the Dark Lord.'

Arms mirroring each other's, goblets raised to the roof, the gathered men echoed back: 'To the Dark Lord.'

Regulus didn't like toasts – it prolonged the wait before he could begin drinking. He liked mead very much; he liked that he didn't have too think too hard when he drank enough. Things were simpler when he was drunk.

But he couldn't afford to today – he would need to be back in the village before anyone began to miss him.

'And to Antonin and Rodolphus,' continued Lucius Malfoy, 'faithful servants of our master.'

At this a round of barked cheers sounded around the room. Regulus was silent, eyes on Malfoy, waiting for him to lead them in raising their goblets to their lips.

'You have done well today,' Malfoy informed the two lauded wizards, who had been given the place of honour at the room's centre beside the hearth. 'Today we take another step towards achieving the Dark Lord's vision.'

What did killing Muggles do for the Dark Lord's vision other than rouse wizards into opposition? If he had been older – if he had the same favour with their master as Malfoy did – he would have been able to speak his mind. He would have been able to suggest – no, been able to insist – that murders in the shadows were a thing of the past. They had the numbers now to do something greater.

'And lastly,' continued Malfoy, a wry smile twisting across his pointed face, 'to our new recruits. Today they have proven, without a doubt, their devotion to the Dark Lord. You five – stand up so we can see you.'

Around him his housemates rose to their feet. Rabastan was grinning like a fool. Avery and Mulciber seemed to be bearing their muscles.. Snape looked as a sallow as ever.

'I won't lie to you, the coming months will not be easy,' continued Malfoy. The smile had vanished from Malfoy's face now. His grey eyes bore into them, dark and warning, his drawling voice reduced to a venomous hiss. 'But together we will rise victorious. We will bring forth a new world for magical kind, and this purge begins today.'

There was another cry of approval from around the room. Mulciber and Avery howled their ascent. Bellatrix was cackling with delight from her perch on the arm of her husband's chair, running her claw-like nails through his lank hair. Malfoy threw back his drink and his guests followed suit, Regulus draining his goblet.

Narcissa emerged from the corner of the room where she had been waiting, sitting apart from the gathered Death Eaters, sitting rigidly with a bottle of mead clasped between her ivory hands. She weaved her way through the crowd, refilling their drinks as she went. Regulus could see her hands shaking as she topped up his goblet.

'Thanks, Cissy.'

He gave her a smile she did not return.

'Does your mother know you're drinking?'

'She wouldn't care.'

Narcissa's pale, blue eyes were fixed upon him. She had gotten thinner since getting married, and Regulus thought she looked older than she ought to. She moved with a sort of stiffness he believed should only be found in women his mother's age, a severity in her manner that did not suit her. She did not move off to tend to the other empty goblets but stayed at his side, and Regulus had the peculiar impression she had something to tell him.

'Narcissa.'

Her husband's voice made her jump. He appeared at their side, his hand closing around her arm, and the jolt Narcissa's made slopped mead from the bottle onto the carpet. Lucius appeared not to notice.

'The Dark Lord is close,' he informed his wife. 'Go tell the house elves to have the room ready, but be sure they are gone when he gets there.'

'Yes, Lucius.'

She made to move away, but Lucius's clasp on her arm did not relent. 'Did you hear me?' said Lucius in his slow, silky drawl. 'I don't want them to be seen, understand?'

'Yes, of course, Lucius.'

Lucius relinquished his hold on his wife (Regulus could have sworn he saw Narcissa pulling herself out of his grip) and he took the bottle of wine off her as she scurried out of the drawing room.

'Drink up, Regulus,' Lucius told him with a smile, and Regulus did as he was told. Lucius topped up his goblet once more. 'Are you ready?'

'Are you drunk?'

'No.'

'Don't lie, Regulus. I'm not an idiot. I know when you're drunk.'

'Then why are you asking?'

He shouldn't have said it, but what did it really matter? What could this little girl before him do to him after what he had done?

'Fine,' she snarled. 'I'll leave you to it then.'

'Dorcas, wait.'

He caught her hand, forcing her back to face him. He could feel eyes of the passing villagers upon them. 'I'm sorry.'

She tossed her dark curls over her shoulder and pursed her lips. 'Good. You should be.'

What a child she was. How little she knew of him – how little she knew of his world. It would almost have been worth telling her the things he had seen and done purely for the satisfaction of seeing the horror across her face; seeing her eyes widen, seeing her dark cheeks streaked with tears, hearing her ask him why.

'I'm sorry I was late,' he told her.

'Are you going to tell me where you were?'

'Rabastan wanted a drink.'

'I told you not to lie to me.'

She was smart, at least. He couldn't deny that. Much smarter than he was, so why hadn't she figured it out? Why didn't she ask him? If only she would ask him and then he could tell her.

'Let's go back to the castle,' he said to her. 'My dorm will be empty.'

She let out a mirthless laugh. 'You think I want to go to your dorm? What is wrong with you?'

'Can we talk about this somewhere else?'

'Why? Are you embarrassed?'

'No, that's not what I meant –'

'Well, you should be. It's not even lunchtime and you're totally pissed.'

'I am not.'

'Yes, you are! I want to know why you're lying to me!'

'I'm not lying to you.'

She turned on her heel and started away. He followed in pursuit, catching her as she turned off the main road into a side street, closing his hand around her arm.

'Dorcas, wait.'

'Get off me, Regulus.'

'Look at me.'

'I said get off me!'

Her free hand went for her wand and he seized both her wrists in an iron grip. She swore at him. He forced her against the wall of the laneway, pinning her against the bricks. There was no fear in her eyes as there had been in Narcissa's: only fury.

'Were you going to curse me?' he hissed at her.

'Get the fuck off her!'

Regulus turned to find the tip of a wand pointed squarely between his eyes. His hands snapped back from Dorcas's wrists and he stepped away from her, raising his hands as a gesture of innocence.

'I didn't touch her.'

Sirius's face was twisted with anger, his wand hand shaking as he stared down at the younger Black. 'You're sick, you know, Regulus?'

'Put your wand away,' snapped Dorcas. 'You're making an idiot of yourself.'

James Potter stepped forward from behind Sirius, laying a hand on his dorm-mate's shoulder. 'Sirius, put it away, mate.'

'I'd listen to him if I were you,' advised Regulus. The mead coursing through him had loosened his tongue. He was in the mood for a fight, and while he knew he couldn't reach his wand before Sirius would be able to curse him, he also knew that no matter how much Dorcas loathed him in that moment her pride would win out; she would not allow Sirius to curse him without raising her own in his defence.

'You see the paper today, Regulus?' snarled Sirius. 'Dead Muggles get you excited, is that it?'

'I did more than read the paper, Sirius.'

Sirius's face flooded with rage and he opened his mouth, but before he could bellow the course Potter had stepped between them. 'Sirius, don't.'

'Sirius,' came the voice of Lily Evans, now appearing at Sirius's side, her hands on his arm. 'Sirius, come on, we're going to be late…'

Seconds passed in which the two Black brothers stared at each other, their hearts pounding, curses on the tips of their tongues. It was the hypocrisy that made it worse, Regulus decided; it wasn't Dorcas that Sirius cared about, but the chance to override his younger brother. If it had been any other bloke with her pinned against the wall, Regulus was sure Sirius would not have intervened.

Seconds passed in blistering silence before Sirius lowered his wand. 'Fine,' he said, and Regulus knew he was fighting to keep his voice even. 'They'll get what's coming to them anyway.'

And he pushed past Potter towards the mouth of the lane, leaving his two housemates in his wake. The Gryffindors exchanged glances with each other before Potter reached for Evans's shoulder, ready to lead her away, but she did not permit him to, turning to face Dorcas.

'Are you alright?' she asked.

'Fuck off, Evans.'

Lily looked undeterred. 'You don't have to stay here.'

'I'd stop talking if you know what's good for you,' warned Dorcas.

Potter squeezed Evans's shoulder. 'Lily, come on.'

And this time she obeyed, giving Dorcas one last sorry look that Regulus knew the latter would have despised. He watched the two Gryffindors traipse away after Sirius, leaving him alone once more with his girlfriend.

'Potter and his Mudblood,' Regulus's muttered. 'I shouldn't have let them go.'

Dorcas rounded on him, her dark eyes set upon him piercingly. 'What's happened to you?'

And with that she too turned away.

James respected Anna Black a great deal, but he did not expect to like her.

'She's a lot like the rest of them,' Sirius had told him. 'Stuck up, you know?'

'Only she doesn't want to kill Muggles,' Peter had reminded him.

Andromeda Tonks looked just as he had expected her to; beautiful, immaculate, and thoroughly out of place beneath the weak torchlight of the grimy inn. When they stepped inside she rose, fluid and graceful, and rushed to Sirius, enveloping him in a fierce hug which the Gryffindor did not return.

James had expected as much. For the most part, the school year had been absent of the blazing rows and duals that had erupted between the two brothers the year after Sirius had left home. After a week spent in the hospital wing had been topped off with threats of expulsion the previous May, each brother had taken mostly to denying the other's existence and pointedly avoiding looking at the other whenever they were to pass in the corridors.

But now the wound appeared to have been re-opened.

'I shouldn't have let him go,' Sirius had said to them on the walk to the pub. 'I should go after him.'

James and Lily had protested profusely.

'That's what he wants you to do,' James insisted.

'Did you hear what he said?' Sirius demanded. 'I did more than read the paper.'

'He was trying to upset you, Sirius, surely,' said Lily desperately. 'He's not worth it.'

'Christ, Evans, don't you get it?' Sirius spat at her. 'He wants you dead. You and all the other Muggle-borns.'

At this James had given a warning 'Shut up, Padfoot' and put the debate to an end. They made the rest of the walk to the Hog's Head in silence, Sirius fuming and Lily looking anxious and James glaring at the back of his dorm-mate's head.

Andromeda appeared undeterred by Sirius's lack of enthusiasm and, without a glance towards James and Lily, she seized her cousin's hand and steered him back to the table she had been sitting at. James and Lily exchanged glances and followed.

'This is Ted,' Andromeda proclaimed, gesturing to the man at the table, who rose to shake Sirius's hand.

'G'day,' said Ted, beaming broadly. It did not seem to faze him that in order to simulate a handshake between the pair he had to seize Sirius's hand from right his side and give it a rough jiggle. 'Great to meet you, finally.'

When it became apparent Sirius had no intention of returning the sentiment, James stepped forward and offered Andromeda her hand. 'I'm James. Nice to meet you.'

To Andromeda's credit, she seemed taken aback for only a second, before she took James's hand. 'A pleasure, James.'

'And this is Lily.'

They exchanged greeting, faultlessly polite, before silence ensued. James pulled out a chair at their beer-stained table. Placing a hand on Sirius's shoulder, he forced him down into the it, before he took his own seat. Lily followed suit.

'Well,' said Ted eagerly, 'I think this calls for drinks. You're all seventeen, aren't you?'

James and Lily assured him they were and he waved them off.

'Only joking. I was gonna buy you drinks anyway. So, what's your poison?'

'Er – pint of ale, but I'll get it,' said James.

'Don't even think about it. And for you?'

'Oh… um, just another ale,' said Lily.

'And you, Sirius?'

'Shot of fire whiskey.'

'Good choice. I'll be back.' And he stood and crossed the pub to the counter. He returned a moment later levitating their drinks and offered them out, receiving their thanks in return.

'Well, perhaps we should toast,' said Andromeda brightly, raising her glass of mead.

'Brilliant idea, darling,' said Ted. 'What shall we toast to? To good health?'

'To family,' said Andromeda severely.

The couple chinked their glasses. James and Lily returned the gesture, trying not to take note of the questionable marks on what they suspected were unwashed glasses. Sirius raised his fire-whiskey and downed it, before crossing to the bar and returning with a pint of ale for himself.

'So tell me how you've been, Sirius,' urged Andromeda. 'It's been so long. We've missed so much, and you've never even met Dora.'

Sirius sipped his ale. 'Who's Dora?'

Andromeda swelled with pride. 'Out daughter. Nymphadora.'

Sirius let out a bark of laughter and Andromeda's eyes shot to him. When riled she looked very much like Sirius, thought James.

'Oh, that's a pretty name,' said Lily cheerfully. 'How old is she?'

'Nearly five.'

Lily let out a soft 'aw'. This, James thought, may have been overdoing it.

'She's becoming a handful,' said Ted fondly. 'She burst out laughing the other day and all our wine glasses burst.'

'That happened to me, too,' said Lily. 'My sister took my doll and when I started crying all the light-bulbs in our house exploded.'

'Oh, you're Muggle-born, are you?' asked Ted.

Lily's cheeks flushed. James saw her shoot a look towards Andromeda, as if anticipating some display of disgust, before she gave a hesitant nod.

'Me, too,' said Ted, and Lily looked immensely relieved. 'No relatives in Winchester, by any chance?'

Lily's face fell. 'No, thank Merlin. Wasn't that awful?'

'Disgusting,' said Ted. 'Makes you think, doesn't it? Could be anyone you or I know.'

'Oh, let's not talk about that,' said Andromeda briskly. 'Sirius, what NEWTs are you taking?'

'I, for one, am proud to say I didn't vote for Minchum,' continued Ted. 'If you ask me he should be doing everything he can to get this Voldemort bloke in line.'

'Ted, shh!' hissed Andromeda, casting a wary glance towards the warlocks at the next table. 'People don't like hearing that name.'

'He Who Must Not Be Named, they're calling him now,' said James. 'Pathetic, isn't it? He must be compensating for something.'

Ted and Lily laughed. Sirius gave a sniff of disdain and finished his pint.

'I'm getting another drink,' said Sirius.

'Oh, I'll pay,' said Andromeda immediately.

'Don't bother.'

And he trudged off towards the bar to return a moment later with a pint glass and jug of ale. He poured himself a drink, drank deeply, and topped up the pint once more.

'Sooner Minchum's out of office the better,' said James. 'I hope that bird from the Auror Office runs in 1980. I'd vote for her.'

Lily grimaced. 'Millicent Bagnold? You like her?'

'You don't?'

Lily shook her head. 'She's the one that tried to get the Wizengamot to grant aurors the right to use Unforgivable Curses.'

'Yeah, but if they have any hope of stopping Voldemort then they have to,' said James. 'They deserve what's coming to them.'

'But where do you draw the line?' asked Lily. 'Will it be okay to use them on smugglers or thieves or kids who use magic out of school?'

James rolled his eyes. 'That's a big jump. They'd only be using them in extreme situations.'

'Sinking to their level doesn't solve anything,' said Lily. 'An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.'

'Very profound, Evans. Is that Shakespeare?'

'Gandhi,' said Lily tersely.

'Who?'

'He was – oh, don't worry,' sighed Lily. 'Don't they teach you anything in Muggle studies?'

'Not really, no.'

'Well, perhaps if they did people like You-Know-Who wouldn't have the followers he does.'

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, half-way through his second pint. 'That's lovely, Evans,' he told her. 'Let's get Voldemort down here for a nice sit-down and you can explain to him that Muggles really aren't that different from us.'

Lily scowled at him. 'Would your solution be to just kill them all, then?'

'I don't see why not,' said Sirius flatly.

Lily gave a sigh of exasperation. 'Because that doesn't solve anything! You can't just kill people who disagree with you! You have to educate them before they get the chance to start killing!'

'Well, that's all very well and good, Lily,' said James, 'but if they're blowing up streets in Winchester I think it might be a bit late for that. It's in the hands of the aurors now – or at least it would be if they had any clue what the hell to do about it.'

Sirius drained the last of his ale. 'So I guess that means we're all fucked.'

Ted merely chortled. 'I don't think that's the case just yet.'

'You think Bagnold might have a chance of getting into office?' asked James.

'Oh, no clue, lad,' said Ted. 'But I don't think people are just going to bend over and let Voldemort have his way. There are people all over the Wizarding World starting to fight back. Some of them are doing things like you were saying, Lily: making an effort to bridge the gaps between wizarding and Muggle societies. Other people are in the thick of it – doing the job that the aurors aren't.'

'Bullshit,' snapped Sirius.

'Not so, Sirius,' said Ted pleasantly.

'Well, where are they then?' demanded Sirius. 'Where were they this morning in Winchester?'

'Couldn't tell you that. All I know is that they're out there.'

'How would you know?'

Ted smiled at him, and when he spoke again he dropped his voice so as not to be overheard by the next table. 'Because I've met them. Turned down offers to join them, actually.'

James and Sirius were silent, staring at Ted in awe as the man reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a tin of rolling tobacco. 'You three smoke?' he asked.

'Wait,' said James slowly, 'they asked you to join? Who asked you to join?'

Ted lit his rolled cigarette and passed the tin of tobacco into Sirius's waiting hand. 'Friends of mine in the Order.'

'What's that?' demanded James. 'What's the Order?'

Ted was silenced by the sharp look Andromeda gave him, and she said to him curtly, 'Ted, weren't we going to speak to Sirius about the summer?'

Ted gave a warn smile. 'Yes, dear, I believe we were.'

'Good,' said Andromeda resolutely, turning back to Sirius. 'Sirius, Ted and I wanted to ask you something.'

Sirius gave a grunt to show he was listening before lighting his cigarette and sinking back into his chair.

'We've heard you're not living at home anymore.'

'Who told you that?' growled Sirius.

'Old school friend of mine,' said Ted. 'Frank Longbottom. His parents are friends with yours, actually, James.'

Andromeda nodded. 'And while I'm sure Mr and Mrs Potter have been very good to you, Ted and I were wondering if – if perhaps after school, if you needed a place to stay…'

'We've got a spare room at our place,' finished Ted.

'Lovely,' said Sirius, 'But I've got my own place now. Dear Uncle Alphard left me gold when he kicked off.'

'Oh,' said Andromeda softly. 'That was sweet of him.'

'Wanted to get back at Walburga for taking all the silver out of their mum's place, I bet.'

'Perhaps,' said Andromeda. 'You know, until Frank told us… Well, that's why it took so long for me to write to you. I wasn't sure if – if you were still at home.'

'Weren't sure if I'd joined Voldemort, that's what you mean.'

Andromeda hesitated. 'Well, you were so young when I left. I didn't know if perhaps, as you'd gotten older, you would have seen your parents' side of things…'

'Side of things,' spat Sirius. 'Say what it is, Anna. They're Death Eaters, the whole lot of them. I didn't think you'd have any trouble calling them what they are.'

'You're right,' said Andromeda solemnly. 'But you don't need them anymore. Ted and I-'

Sirius gave a venomous laugh. 'I don't need you either, Anna. I haven't been waiting around for six years hoping you'd write to me if that's what you think.'

'Sirius,' said James slowly, gesturing towards the jug of ale, 'slow down, mate.'

'Oh, shut up, James.'

'Shall we eat?' said Lily brightly, pointing to the menu above the bar. 'Ooh, look. Roasted potatoes.'

'Sirius,' continued Andromeda gently, 'I won't pretend I know what it was like growing up in that house for you and Regulus –'

And the name was enough for Sirius to slam his pint down on the table. Lily shrieked as it shattered. Ale and shards of glass flew over them. The bartender gave a bark from across the pub.

'For fuck's sake, Sirius,' hissed James, 'what's wrong with you?'

'Don't you dare talk to me about Regulus,' Sirius snarled down at his cousin. 'You don't know shit, Anna. You don't know him and you don't know me.'

And with that he plucked his smoke from his mouth and tossed it down onto the table. It extinguished with a hiss in the ale-sodden shards of glass. Sirius turned on his heel and marched to the door, but not before giving the bellowing bartender the finger.

Andromeda gazed at the doorway that Sirius had disappeared through and got to her feet, as did Ted and James.

'I wouldn't,' James told her, raising a warning hand. 'Not when he's like this.'

But he went ignored. Andromeda was across the bar and out the door in an instant following in Sirius's wake, calling his name.

'I'll go with her,' Ted told them gently, 'we'll get him back.'

'You won't,' James informed him. 'Don't bother.'

Ted did nothing but smile and gave James's shoulder a clap in farewell. 'We'll get him.'

James watched him leave, his mind whirring, struggling to comprehend. It had fallen to pieces so quickly it was almost comical. He could have almost laughed at it – at Sirius's temper and Andromeda's eagerness and Ted's perpetual calmness. He could have almost laughed if he hadn't remembered the girl sitting at the table before him.

He raised his wand and wish a flick vanished the spilt ale and shattered glass. Bidding the bartender his apologies, he slumped back in his chair, running a weary hand through his hair.

'Should have taken one of those smokes,' he said numbly.

Lily was sitting rigidly in her seat, staring into the dregs of her pint glass. 'Is Sirius okay?'

'Oh, he's fine. He's a brat.'

'Should you go after him?'

'No, I'm not in the mood to get hexed.'

At this Lily looked startled. 'Should you warn Ted and Andromeda?'

'Nah, he saves that special treatment for me. They won't find him anyway. He will have apparated into the courtyard in the Three Broomsticks to meet Rosie.'

'Rosie?'

'Madam Rosmerta.'

Lily raised her eyebrows. 'Are they an item?'

'Not an item, per se. More an perpetual one night stand.'

'Charming.'

James forced a smile and sipped his pint, before he heaved a heavy sigh. 'Look, sorry about this.'

She glanced up at him. 'Sorry for what?'

'You know what, Evans.'

'Oh, it's not your fault.'

'Well, it's my fault you had to witness it.'

Lily returned to gazing into her pint glass. 'We can always do it again. Maybe just without so much… drama.' She drained the last of her ale and set the glass back down. 'I – oh.'

'What?'

Lily grimaced and held up her now-empty pint glass to show him the brown stain at the bottom.

'Oh, look at that – lovely,' said James serenely. 'Well, you can thank Sirius for the choice of venue, but you best be quick about it because I'm murdering him when we get back to the castle.'

Lily grinned and raised the glass to eye-level for further inspection. 'Oh, it doesn't matter – look, maybe it's good luck.'

'Good luck?'

'Yes, look… the stain looks a little like a four-leafed clover, don't you think?'

James shook his head. 'Evans, I know some people think your ray-of-sunshine demeanour is endearing, but you ought to pick your moments a little better.'

'No, no, look – there's the stem, and the leaves… Okay, not a four-leafed clover, but definitely a clover, don't you think?'

He glanced up at her. She was watching him with eager, green eyes, urging him to agree, willing him to set aside Sirius's outburst for the stain at the bottom of her glass.

'Right,' he said. 'Yeah, I see it – a three-leafed clover.'

'Perhaps not good luck as such, but clover's are certainly decent.'

'Actually, Evans, a common misconception is that it's the four-leafed clover's that are auspicious,' said James matter-of-factly, 'but what most people don't know is that it's the three-leafed clovers that really get the job done.'

'Oh, is that so?'

'Yeah, that four-leaf nonsense has been spread around to throw people of the scent.'

'Well, that's good to hear, because I don't find three-leaf clovers all that hard to come by.'

'You must be exceptionally lucky then, mustn't you, Evans?'

'Oh, yes, frightfully so,' she told him. 'So lucky, in fact, that I think we're very shortly going to find ourselves in a real pub getting a proper drink.'

'Trying to get me drunk, Evans?'

'I wouldn't need to try very hard.'

'And how would you know?'

'Oh, please, how many times have I seen you stumbling around at Quidditch parties making a fool of yourself?'

'See, that's not fair. You've seen me behave like a drunken moron and for all I know witnessed some truly humiliating misdemeanours on my part, but I've never got to see you anything other than tipsy when you come back from the Slug Club giggling with Remus.'

'That's because I don't do anything humiliating,' she declared. 'I'm a positively charming drunk.'

'I'll believe it when I see it.'

'Then what are you waiting for? Come on, I want a glass of mead.'

James cocked an eyebrow. 'I like where this is headed, Evans.'

She smiled and he returned it and they got to their feet. The barmen watched them leave, laughing together as they did so, their shoulders brushing against the others and they squeezed through the doorway and when they stepped out onto the street they found their hands grazing the others and their fingers found each other. Laughing, hand in hand, they started down the street together.

One day she would hold him as he was bleeding and try to speak.

'Hestia brought Megan around today,' she would tell him in a shaking voice. 'She has Alwyn's eyes, don't you think?'

And he would look at her with sorry eyes – truly sorry – and say in a rasping voice, 'I can't, Lily – I can't. Not tonight.'

And she would know what he meant, because they would all know what it meant when it came to those days. She would nod and wipe her eyes and inspect the place on his abdomen where the curse had made impact. She would tell him it didn't look so bad and help him to his feet.

He would lean on her up the stairs – one at a time, not much further – and she would help with the clasp on his cloak. He would shrug her off, tell her he could manage, and she would hold her tongue, watching him wince as he undressed, watching his blood smear across their quilt cover as he climbed into bed.

They would lie in silence, each of them feigning sleep, each of them with their faces angled away from the others. When he thought she was sleeping he would reach for her in the night; touch her skin and her hair and wish he could tell her he was sorry – wish he could tell her he would take it all back and wish that he could mean it.

She would take his hand and wish she could tell him that she understood – that she didn't mind, that she had wanted this too, that she had agreed, that it had been her choice, that she didn't regret it, that this was their duty.

She would listen for the click of the lock at their front door or the sound of voices coming up the stairs and wonder if she would wake in the morning. She would drift in and out of sleep, lingering between dreaming and waking and conjuring up for herself visions of men coming for them in the night and she would remember back when they had slept beside each other without this fear. She would search through her mind to the months and years earlier when they had been safe, when they had held each other and said all they had to say, when they had breathed freely.

She would go back, further and further, urging herself to remember those days when they had lived and laughed; the first time they had kissed, the first time they had slept together, the first time he had told her he loved her and she had done the same; a lifetime's worth of days forced together, hurried and breathless in the fear that they wouldn't have time for it all unless it they did it then and there; a jumbled, misshapen shadow of adolescence that had flared and died too soon, too full and too heavy to distinguish between one day and another no matter how hard she tried to recall each moment, each second she had spent with him.

Let me remember. Let me have more.

She could die soon; she could die tomorrow; she could die as she slept; she could die beside him and he beside her. It would come too soon just as everything in their life had come too soon.

She would die wanting more, longing and pleading with her wand forgotten and James dead downstairs.

I like where this is headed, Evans.

He had reached for her hand – or had she reached for his? – and they had walked out of the little pub, side by side, fingers laced, shoulders bumping against the others. She couldn't recall what they had spoken about but she remembered laughing – remembered feeling terribly light and frightfully happy and something close to exhilarated. She liked him, and she had every reason to believe he liked her right back, and there was nothing to tell her that this was anything other than the beginning of something good.

She had wondered, as she climbed into her four-poster that evening, staring at the canopy and thinking of the kiss James had left on her cheek when he had bid her goodnight, what would become of them; when their next date would be, if he would ask her out again, if he would want to remain friends when school was over or if by then they would be something more than friends.

She wondered if they would tire of each other quickly, and she wondered if they would not, and she wondered if they would ever have sex and wondered, if they did so, what would it be like? She wondered what he shagged like and what he kissed like and what he would be like if she ever got to know him fully and truly and deeply.

She wondered if he was wondering the same about her and wondered if she would disappoint him or if he would disappoint her.

She wondered through all these questions and queries and fantasies and fears and landed at hopefulness and drifted into sleep. She wondered what the future held, and in the realm of possibilities she conjured for herself she could not have dreamt, in the darkest and wildest of nightmares, what was to come.

A/N: Oh my god, an update! And thing's happen! Amazing!

This chapter's back to my typical (embarrassing) length so if you got through it then thank you so much and you have all my love!

I'm kind of nervous about this chapter so if you could take the time to review and let me know what you thought I'd really appreciate it! x