a/n: Hello, hello, hello! Thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorited and such; you all are too sweet! :) I think I forgot to do a disclaimer, so even though everyone probably knows this I'll just say that J.K. Rowling owns a great majority of the characters and places in this story. And now, without further ado, here's chapter three. I hope you guys like it and let me know what you think!


Lily was in James Potter's parlor.

James Potter had a parlor.

If someone would have told Lily Evans that today would be the most insane day of her life—that she would duel death eaters, witness Mr. Clifford's murder, almost get arrested by the ministry only to be rescued by a handsome David Potter, and end the day in James Potter's parlor—she would have laughed out loud.

There was a part of her that wanted to laugh out loud even now, even as she was living it.

She sighed, looking around the spacious room, trying to sort out her thoughts. This didn't look like a place James Potter would live. It was much too serene, much too elegant for a boy who liked to chew with his mouth open and make crude jokes. There were mahogany tables and a floor to ceiling bookshelf and what looked like a fancy wet bar in the corner. Her eyes drifted lazily to the window, where the setting sun was shining blood-red rays through the glass and refracting patterns onto the cool cream walls around her.

She watched them with interest until they started to remind her of blood spatter.

She wondered idly if she would have nightmares when she got home.

Probably.

Her morbid thoughts were interrupted by Sirius Black giving a loud laugh from across the room, and she looked curiously over to where they were huddled. The three boys looked almost incomplete without Peter Pettigrew, like there was some sort of missing link. They looked happy enough—Sirius was reclining sideways in a chair, his head and legs lolling off of either side; Remus had folded himself into the next chair, his chin resting on one knee as he listened good-naturedly to his friend's banter; and James was leaning against the wall, a tuft of hair falling over one eye and a smirk upon his lips—but there was a tiny gap between Sirius and Remus, a gap that she felt sure little Peter Pettigrew would fill had he not been in the hospital.

They were taking the day's events so well it seemed like they fought death eaters every day, and suddenly Lily felt thankful that she had gone through this day with the Marauders by her sides. She didn't know what she would have done without Remus's hugs and Sirius's jokes and the familiarity of James Potter's infuriating behavior.

Just as her eyes wandered over to James once more (for it appeared that he was the one Sirius was laughing at), his eyes flicked up to meet hers.

She looked away almost immediately, feeling embarrassed for no real reason. She had caught James Potter looking at her plenty of times, and there was nothing wrong with him catching her—especially because she hadn't even been staring. She had been casually observing all three of them. If he wanted to think it was something different, then that was his problem: She was still Lily Evans and they were still the Marauders and just because she was grateful, there was no way—

"All right there, Evans?"

She turned to find James Potter standing there, hands shoved in his pocket, head cocked to the side.

The image, framed by the setting sun, was horribly alluring.

She cleared her throat, and attributed the thought to some sort of head injury she had probably ascertained. "Erm…yeah. Yeah, just tired."

"I don't blame you; I'm pretty exhausted myself."

She nodded, searching for something to say, but James beat her to it. "Would you like some tea?"

"No thanks," she said quickly, and then immediately regretted it. Tea would be nice; it would help her relax.

He shrugged and dragged a chair over near her, dropping into it with an exhale. "My mom will probably be bringing some anyways, if you change your mind."

"Alright." Another silence fell, but this time she was able to break it. "How come you never told me you were rich?"

He snorted, languidly stretching out his long legs in front of him. "Evans, we've never had a proper conversation."

"That—That's not true."

"Alright, so we've had some civil conversations," he conceded. "But they've all been about unimportant things—like homework or the latest Quidditch match. When do you suppose I should've told you this information?"

She frowned. Did he really think those things were unimportant? She could've sworn that he lived and breathed for Quidditch games. "You could have told me in the ministry," she pointed out. She wasn't angry with him, but she did feel a bit embarrassed at her reaction upon stumbling out of the fire and into his incredibly ornate living room (she had loudly proclaimed that they must have come out at the wrong gate and actually laughed when James told her there had been no mistake). "I was expecting a nice, normal house. Your father probably thinks I'm a complete prat because all I could do was gawk while he gave me the grand tour!"

"The grand tour?" He repeated incredulously. "There's nothing grand tour-ish about the walk from my living room."

"I counted no less than three sitting rooms on the way here. Four if you count the one we're in now, but I don't know if I should because your father specifically called it 'the parlor.' Plus, I heard Sirius talking about the lake that is apparently in your backyard!"

"I do not have a lake in my backyard. It's just a swimming hole," he said, quirking his lips up crookedly. "And I think 'parlor' is just a fancy name for 'sitting room.'"

Lily whistled. "I never thought I'd see the day where James Potter was modest."

"I never thought I'd see the day where Lily Evans lusted after my father."

"I didn't!" she cried immediately, feeling a bright blush stain her cheeks as Sirius (who had somehow heard the last comment) broke down into laughter again. "And I swear to Merlin, Potter—if you spread that rumor around school…I…I will tell everyone that you shoved your tongue down Sadie Winthrop's throat!"

Sirius gave a loud gasp as Remus looked aghast. They both clambered out of their chairs and pulled them closer to where James and Lily were sitting. "You snogged Sadie Winthrop?"

"Ewww!" Sirius yelled. "She has horse teeth!"

"No!" he protested, sitting up straighter in his chair, as Lily scowled at him. "I didn't! You can't just go around telling people shit that's not true, Evans!"

"You're calling the kettle black, Pot-ter."

"Har har. Very funny, Evans."

"I'm not trying to be funny!" she exclaimed, letting out a frustrated huff. "God—why do you always do this?"

"Wha—do what?" he asked, running a hand through his hair swiftly.

She vaguely heard Remus give a weary sigh, but ignored him.

"We were getting along just fine and then you had to ruin it by trying to embarrass me!"

"I wasn't trying to embarrass you—"

"Like hell, you weren't."

"Well…fine, so I was," he admitted. She took in a breath to berate him and he pressed on hurriedly, scooting forward so he was perched on the edge of his seat. "But it's only because you look pretty when you blush—"

"Sod off—"

"—and it's not like you were an innocent bystander in this—you're the one who started making up stories. At least my story's true!"

"I was not lusting after your father," she said stubbornly, crossing her arms tightly over her body as Sirius started laughing again (would he ever cease to find it funny?).

"You didn't see your face. There were definite lustful thoughts happening."

"You're just jealous because I've never looked at you with that face."

It was James's turn to redden slightly. "Am not," he muttered sullenly just as the French doors opened and James's parents entered the room.

"Mrs. P!" Sirius exclaimed happily as she set a silver tea tray on a table.

Content to let the subject rest for the moment—and absolutely praying that James wasn't such an arse that he'd continue the topic with David Potter himself in the room—Lily sat back in her chair and steadfastly ignored the annoyed looks she could feel James giving her.


"Son…do you know what persistence means?"

James had been twelve years old when his father had taken him aside and asked him this. Prepared for a lecture (as he had just gotten done breaking a large portion of his mother's vase collection trying to perfect his aim with a Quaffle), he had been pleasantly surprised when this is all his father had said to him.

"Persistence means that you don't give up…and I can see that you obviously haven't given up on your dream of being a Chaser for the Gryffindors. Now, your mother will probably be very upset if she finds out what you've done; and plenty of other women may very well hate the fact that you're persistent as well—but I think it's one of your best qualities. Persistence is good; it gets things done, James. Don't ever forget that."

He hadn't.

In fact, he had taken that speech to heart because the very next year he had been made a Chaser at the measly age of thirteen. His father was right; persistence got things done.

When he was fifteen, he had cornered Lily Evans after class, put on his best smile, and said: "You're really pretty, Evans—you know that?"

"Oh…er, thanks." She'd blushed and he'd liked it.

"Want to come to Hogsmeade with me?"

"Hogsmeade? With you?" Her green eyes were wide. "Er—well, I'm flattered Potter, but…no thank you."

Thankfully, James Potter never took "no thank you" as an answer.


"So," Mr. Potter said loudly, setting a box down onto the table and taking a seat on the arm of a chair. "Am I right in assuming that you all have a lot of questions over what transpired today?"

"Yes," James answered, finally turning his attention away from Lily and onto his father. "For starters: How did you know where we were?"

He held up the box and shook it, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did so. "Alastor Moody sent these wands back with a note telling me to thank you all for your help and to be much more careful in the future."

Lily felt a rush of gratitude towards the Auror—for being one of the only people that seemed to appreciate what they had done.

"I couldn't understand why he didn't just give the wands back to you directly, seeing as you were still at the Ministry. Heather," he said, gesturing to his wife who was now leaning coolly against the doorframe, "had a feeling that something was wrong, so I decided to floo there immediately and see what was going on. When I got there, he said that you had all been dismissed hours ago."

"Wait a minute…" Sirius said slowly, his usually unperturbed expression contorted in confusion. "Are you telling me that we weren't supposed to be kept in a room for four hours?"

He nodded grimly. "You were all supposed to be escorted home immediately."

"I knew it was complete bollocks for the Misuse of Magic Office to be questioning us," James muttered darkly.

"But why would they do that?" Lily asked, frowning. "I mean, is it possible that it was all just a misunderstanding? It makes sense that the Misuse of Magic Office would want to talk to us seeing as how muggles were involved—"

"Unfortunately," Mr. Potter informed her, "it looks as though your temporary imprisonment was completely intentional. Sure, the head of the office is going to claim it was a misunderstanding, but the thing is—there are laws protecting people from getting in trouble if they use magic for self-defense, like you all did. The Misuse of Magic Office had no right to keep you for so long. Now, I don't know what they said to you—"

"They threatened us with a trial," Remus spoke up.

"A trial?" Mr. Potter repeated, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He looked adorably bewildered. Mrs. Potter on the other hand, looked positively irate.

"Those bastards threatened you with a trial?" she demanded, taking a step inside the room. Her eyes were blazing, and Lily found it strange that such venom was coursing through what seemed to be a pleasant woman (judging from the shocked looks on the boys' faces, so were they). "On what grounds?"

"I think it was mainly my fault," Lily said softly, flushing slightly as all eyes turned to hers. "I took a death eater's wand in the fight, and that Parker bloke made it sound like that was a big deal…"

"You took a death eater's wand?" Mr. Potter asked, sounding slightly impressed.

"Well…yes. I didn't have my own, and—"

"Then how did you manage to take it?"

"She was awesome," Sirius put in, sounding excited. "None of us know how she did it: One minute she was standing on a counter shouting that they were all tossers and then she threw a jar at one of them and probably cracked their skull in half; one of the death eaters started going after her and I told her to run, but the next thing I knew, he was stunned and she was blasting another death eater away from me with his wand!"

"It's really not—not as impressive as that," she said, feeling her face heat up even more as everyone continued to look at her. "I…well, I just figured that they weren't expecting to be attacked in muggle ways, and I was kind of desperate…so when the death eater came at me, I…" she paused, chewing at her lip in embarrassment. "I threw a sack of flour in his face and kicked him in the balls," she said finally. "And then I stole his wand before he could recover and stupefied him."

There was a moment of stunned silence before the boys (Mr. Potter included) burst out into raucous laughter. Mrs. Potter was smirking faintly at her across the room, and she felt her own lips curve up in a sort of proud smile before she retrieved a cup of tea from the tray and took a sip.

"That is genius," James admitted almost grudgingly, giving her a wide smile that she returned without thinking (their previous argument already having slipped her mind). "Stupid as hell, but genius."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

Remus grinned at her, leaning forward to catch her eye. "Trust me, it was supposed to be. He just has trouble articulating the words 'Good job' sometimes."

Sirius was looking rather shocked. "I am actually…jealous of Lily Evans," he said softly. "I have never wanted to be a law-abiding ginger more—if only to feel the satisfaction that undoubtedly accompanies kneeing a death eater in the groin."

She laughed, but her happiness faded almost instantaneously when she remembered why she had retold the story in the first place. Taking another sip of tea to calm her sudden feeling of guilt, she said: "Honestly, I didn't know that taking his wand was so bad, I—"

"It's not," David Potter assured her instantly. "That's why it makes no sense for them to threaten you with a trial. It was well within your rights to take his wand from him…" he paused, rubbing a hand over his face. "They must have…they must have been playing some sort of angle—trying to intimidate you, perhaps…"

Remus cleared his throat. "I agree," he said. "When Parker first came in, he said that he was there to 'discuss our options,' but he never gave us an option besides prosecution."

Mr. Potter snapped his fingers. "That has to be it. They wanted to frighten you enough so that you would want to go with the other option, but I interrupted before they could secure the deal.…What could they—" he stopped suddenly, whipping around to look at his wife with a grave face. "You don't think…?"

She seemed to understand the second half of his unspoken question and she nodded. "It makes the most sense, given the circumstances."

He paused and Lily took another sip of her tea. She was beginning to feel nervous again. "Should I tell them?"

"Might as well."

"Right. Well…" he paused, and scratched his nose. "This is strictly conjecture, mind you…but…Parker has been on the list of suspected death eaters for a while now."

"What?" Sirius exploded, looking scandalized. Lily felt a shiver go up her spine. "Why doesn't someone do something?!"

"Nothing to do," Mr. Potter answered heavily. "No proof. But…if he is a death eater—or at least under Voldemort's control—then it makes sense that he would try to scare you all into submission. You know…try to keep you quiet about the whole fiasco. It wouldn't look too good for Voldemort if word got around that five sixteen year-olds not only evaded death eaters, but captured two of them. It might diminish the fear he's trying to spread." He paused, chewing his words around in his mouth as the four of them sat dumbly in front of him. "Plus, the head of the office wouldn't protest that course of action too much, because avoiding a news story would keep the Ministry from looking bad as well. A lot of people don't want it to seem like the Ministry is losing control."

"But it seems like the Ministry is losing control," Lily pointed out, suddenly angry. They had been in the same room as a suspected death eater and no one seemed to care!

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "Especially if people inside the Ministry are working for the other side!"

"It's stupid to pretend like everything's okay when it isn't," she went on and Mr. Potter nodded.

"It is. Unfortunately, there's not much else we can do. Moody and I have been working on a plan, but it will be a long time before it's ready to be put into action—"

"That's enough, David," Heather Potter said from where she stood behind him, arms still crossed tightly over her chest. "They have enough answers for now. We certainly shouldn't treat them like adults, when they've acted like children."

"Mum!" James exclaimed in protest, his expression darkening. "We've had an awful day—you think you could be a little nicer?"

"It's your own fault for getting into this situation in the first place—you'd think that you lot'd know better than to go off and get in fights with death eaters!" she said sharply, glaring at the four children in front of her. Lily shrunk back into her seat slightly, preparing for some sort of lecture, but Mrs. Potter's anger seemed to dissipate almost immediately.

She slumped back against the wall, running a hand over her face. "Moody said Peter was in St. Mungo's," she said finally. "Do any of you have any ideas what I could bake him? I want to give you boys something to bring to him when you go visit."

There was a short, uncomfortable silence that Remus broke quickly. "He really likes that chocolate cherry torte you make sometimes." His voice was even quieter than normal.

She nodded once. "Thank you." Suddenly her eyes were blazing again. "And I'd appreciate it if you all didn't act so reckless in the future."

There were mumbled assents from around the room, but James remained perfectly still, his mouth agape like he couldn't understand why his mother was mad at them instead of the death eaters.

Lily, however, thought she understood.

James himself had seemed furious with her during the battle, and the Auror that had collected them at the end of the ordeal (Moody, she now realized) had been similarly cross.

Perhaps, she mused, people had been angry with them because they had been scared. And perhaps people had been scared because they had cared about the sixteen year olds involved.

Sometimes people yelled when they cared; she knew this for a fact because there were times when her sister tended to show love through various stages of fury. There was no doubt in her mind that Mrs. Potter was angry because she knew how badly they could have been hurt and that Moody had been upset that they had put themselves in such a dangerous situation (perhaps when James had asked him what took so long, he had been wondering that himself).

Personally, she didn't exactly approve of the 'Yell First, Hug Later' approach, but she knew a fair number of people who did and she thought that Mrs. Potter was probably among them.

Then again, Lily realized belated that this theory would require her to accept the fact that James Potter had been angry with her today because he cared about her. Actually and legitimately cared for her.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye again, unsure how she felt about that.


A hundred miles away, in a room with a dusty floor, Lord Voldemort sighed.

"You have failed me," he said simply, and he relished in the way the two imbeciles trembled beneath his stare.

"I am sorry, my Lord," one of them whispered, bowing his head low. "It will not happen again."

"Again?" he asked amusedly, fingering his wand lightly. "I should kill you where you stand."

They stiffened; one of them fell to his knees. "Please! Please, don't kill me, my Lord! I will do anything!"

"You should be willing to do anything, regardless."

"Yes—that's—that is what I meant, my Lord. Please—"

"Do not beg," Lord Voldemort snapped. "I will not have cowards within my ranks."

The man continued to quiver, but shut his mouth obediently; Lord Voldemort supposed that was at least some improvement.

He began to pace the room slowly, eyeing them imperiously. He wanted to kill them—they deserved to be killed. Letting a group of blood traitors and a wand-less Mudblood get the better of them was despicable, and now (including the idiot Sirius Black had turned into the Ministry last week) he was down three death eaters.

His wand hand twitched.

Despicable.

It would be so easy to end them, to show others what awaited them if they failed him in the future. But he supposed it would be prudent, for his future endeavors, to maintain the volume of his force—at least until he could amass more followers.

No, it wouldn't be wise to kill two more, no matter how much he wanted to. He stopped walking, dreading what he was about to do: He couldn't wait until the day that the peons were expendable.

"You are lucky that your Lord Voldemort is feeling merciful today."

The same man he had reprimanded earlier climbed shakily to his feet. "Thank you, my Lord. Thank you! I am most grateful!"

"As am I," the other one spoke.

"I cannot express my grati—"

"Silence," he murmured tiredly, feeling hatred swell within him. "You will wish you were dead when I am through with you."

"M-My Lord?"

"Before I continue, let me say this: I am going to give you one last chance to prove yourselves worthy. Do you think you can accomplish this task?"

"With certainty, my Lord."

"Good. Find out everything you can on the five teenagers that bested you today. I want to know their secrets and their weaknesses; I want to know how they beat you!" His voice, previously calm, had fallen to a venomous hiss. He couldn't bring himself to care. "I want to know that we will win when we go up against them again! Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord! We will not fail you again!"

"I should certainly hope not," Lord Voldemort said, already feeling decidedly more composed. He could feel his power pulsing in his wand as clearly as he could hear the shaking breaths of the incompetent men standing before him. "Now, I will teach you not to fail me again: Crucio!"

The screams that filled the room brought a smile to his lips.


He was going to die.

She was trying to kill him.

Muggle clothing was entirely too skimpy in James Potter's mind; especially when Lily Evans was the one running around in it all day with her long bloody legs and her curves and the inch of skin that appeared around her midriff when she raised her arms to gesture or stretch…

He snuck a glance across the room at her and saw that she was entranced in something his father was saying (he tried and failed not to be jealous); she was fiddling with the ends of her long hair and chewing absent-mindedly on her pink lips—and Merlin's sake, if he didn't know Lily Evans, he'd think that she was trying to kill him.

She was certainly doing a good enough job.

But the thing was—the most infuriating thing—was that he did know her (in a very limited sense) and he knew that she wasn't trying at all. She had a streak of innate kindness inside her that would never allow her to torture someone this way, and James knew that everything she was doing was done completely on accident.

In a way, that made her even more attractive.

He liked the idea of a bird being so perfect without even trying (he hated it when girls tried too hard), and Lily Evans never tried harder than she needed to. She had this natural sort of beauty that just radiated all the time and made his brain short out and his mouth go dry, and she was just cool, in a genuine way—she read books because she liked them, and she could have a good time at parties without getting completely trashed, and she didn't laugh at his jokes unless she thought they were funny, and she never hesitated to tell him when she thought he was being a prat…

She was perfect and she was slowly killing him and she didn't even care.

Instead, she was preoccupied with his father.

It was so unfair.

"James?" Sirius asked loudly, clapping him on the back roughly. "Are you even listening to me?"

James shook his head clear of her and turned to face his friend, blinking rapidly. "Huh—what?"

"He was staring at Evans," Remus informed him, grinning smugly.

"Ah. Thought I saw a bit of drool."

"Shove off," James muttered crossly. He did not need his mates teasing him when Lily Evans was plotting his murder and his father was busy ruining his life from a few meters away.

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius sighed, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "I was trying to ask you if you minded if I stayed over tonight, but since you're being such an arsehole, I reckon I'll stay over even if you don't want me to."

James rolled his eyes. "Like I even have a choice in the matter." He was pretty sure his mum liked Sirius better than she liked him anyways.

The small grin adorning Sirius's face widened considerably. "True."

"Well I, for one," Remus said, "am going to go home and relax. I've had enough excitement to last me until the end of summer."

"I really hope you don't mean that, Moony," Sirius said solemnly. "I have so much planned for us!"

"What—you have things planned? Do you just sit around and come up with ways to get us in trouble?"

"It's not like I have anything better to do at my house."

From anyone else, the comment might have been completely innocent, but the uncomfortable silence that followed Sirius's statement betrayed the glaring truth of it. In fact, James, Remus, and Peter had been growing increasingly worried about Sirius the longer he spent inside his parent's home. Granted, he spent lots of time at places other than his parent's house, but when he had to go back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place (or when he came from it), he always slipped into a foul mood—almost a depression—and each time, it was worse than the last. Earlier in the summer, James had gone with his parents for a short vacation to their house in France. Sirius was invited, but had declined for reasons he had not specified. However, upon returning, James discovered that Sirius hadn't lasted two days in the Black house before showing up on Remus's doorstep wearing a sheepish smile and a shiny bruise around his right eye.

A flurry of red hair and an "I hope I'm not interrupting anything…" (thankfully) interrupted their conversation, and James turned almost immediately to Lily, a snarky comment already tumbling out of his mouth.

"Well, it's good to see you haven't completely forgotten our existence."

She studied him in confusion for a moment before turning away, and he huffed disgruntledly. "I just came to say goodbye," she told the other two, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear—James was suddenly overcome with such a strong desire to run his fingers through her hair that he had to shove his hands into his pockets. "Mr. Potter's gone to get some brooms, so I'll probably be flying back any minute now."

"You can fly, Evans?" Sirius asked, sounding surprised.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"Have a safe trip back, Lily," Remus put in, and his words caused a smile to light up her face.

"Thank you, Remus. I…er, well I also had something else to say…" she trailed off, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and drawing James's attention to her legs again. They really were perfect. She sighed, scrunching her nose up in an expression of reluctance, and James raised an eyebrow.

"You okay, Evans? If you don't want to leave, you don't have to."

"No, I just…I need to apologize."

She needed to apologize? For what?

"Lily," Remus said hurriedly. "Nothing that happened is your fault, remember—"

"I know," she cut him off. "I know that. But it isn't your fault either, so I'm er—I'm sorry about what I said to you all at the end of last year. It was wrong of me to say those things; I know that it wasn't your fault, I was just so angry…"

"Don't worry about it," Sirius chimed in, shrugging his shoulders. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't even listen to half of what you said."

She laughed. "Surprisingly…that does make me feel a bit better." She turned her head to James, sighing softly. "And James, I'm—I'm especially sorry to you. I know I yelled at you most of all and I was really horrid, and you didn't deserve it. You tried to defend me, and though I still think you went about it the wrong way…I suppose I should be grateful."

"Don't sound too enthusiastic," he muttered sardonically.

"And while we're on the subject, I'm sorry for biting your head off earlier today, as well," she said, completely ignoring his previous comment.

"Well…" he gave a dramatic sigh, "I suppose I can forgive you. Do you want to kiss and make up?"

She glared at him, but he did not miss the corner of her lips twitch slightly. "Don't push your luck, Potter."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Evans."

"Lily!" he heard his father call from the other room. "Are you ready?"

"I'll be right there!" she answered. "I have to go. Today was…horrible." Sirius snorted. "I'll see you guys much, much later."

For a moment, James thought she might hug him—she did an awkward sort of step towards him before clearing her throat and raising a hand in farewell. Then she spun on her heel and jogged off. His mother stopped her at the door and said something that made her laugh, and then she was gone.

He sighed.

"Uh oh," Remus teased. "He's drooling again."

"Shut it."

"Oh, come on, Prongs," Sirius said, ruffling his hair. "We're proud of you! You managed to have a conversation with Lily Evans without saying anything stupid! Well," he amended, grinning evilly, "without saying anything really stupid. It's improvement though, and that's what counts—"

"Shut it!"


When Lily Evan's trainers finally touched the grass on her back lawn, she felt weak with relief. She liked flying to relax sometimes, but riding across country under the cover of night was hardly enjoyable. She was cold, stiff, and even more exhausted than before.

With difficulty, she dismounted the broomstick and turned to look gratefully at her house. All of the lights were on in her house, and she figured that her poor mother must have gone on one of her cleaning frenzies (that always occurred when she was worried about something) and that her father was keeping vigil at one of the windows.

The disillusionment charm that had been cast over her was lifted suddenly and she turned in surprise, having forgotten for the moment that David Potter was with her. With another wave of his wand the brooms vanished, and they began to walk towards the back door. Lily cleared her throat, suddenly feeling remarkably self-conscious. Though Mr. Potter didn't make any indication that he found the size of her home (which was a modest two story house) to be any concern, she couldn't help but feel a bit foolish—especially having just come from the extravagant grandeur of the Potter Manor.

However, her desire to be back with her family won out against any qualms she might have had and she offered him a smile. "Would you like to come inside, Mr. Potter?"

He nodded. "Thank you, Lily. Perhaps I can help explain things to your folks."

Heaving open the screen door, she took a step inside—almost collapsing with gratefulness as the familiar scent of home invaded her senses. "Mum?" She called loudly, striding into the house. "Dad!"

"Lily?" The frantic voice of her mother sounded from the kitchen and Lily broke into a run, crossing the living room in record speed and breathlessly tearing into the other room.

As predicted, her mother was standing with a soapy sponge in her hand (presumably in the act of scrubbing the counters down) and her father was clattering in from the dining room—which had the largest window in the house.

"Mum!" Lily exclaimed, throwing herself across the room and into the older woman's arms.

"Oh, honey! You had us so worried! What happened to you? Oh, Jack—look how dirty she is! Lily Anne Evans, you tell me what is going on right now!"

With a disconsolate noise, Lily extracted herself from her mother only to be swept up immediately by her father—who hugged her with such gusto that she was lifted clean off her feet. She felt an absurd urge to cry, but squeezed her eyes shut tightly, unwilling to shed any more tears.

Her mother was still talking. "The Corner Store was all over the news…they kept saying a bomb went off. And then we got two letters from that Ministry of yours, but they didn't give us any information! The first one said there had been an attack of some sorts, but that you were okay and the second one came a few hours later saying that there had been some sort of—of complication but that a David Potter was taking care of it! Lily we were so worried! Who is David Potter?"

"Er…that would be me," a sheepish voice said, and Mr. and Mrs. Evans' heads snapped up at the unfamiliar voice.

"Mum, Dad," Lily managed to say, disentangling herself from her father and gesturing towards the wizard loitering awkwardly at the doorway. "This is Mr. Potter. He's the father of one of my classmates—he came to collect us all from the Ministry and sort everything out."

"Sort everything out?" Mrs. Evans repeated as her father crossed the room to shake the man's hand. "Are you in some sort of trouble?"

"No—"

"Lily Anne, don't lie to us," her father interrupted sternly.

"She's not," Mr. Potter assured them. "It was all a big misunderstanding. Lily and her friends acted admirably—without her bravery, many more lives could have been lost."

"Many more lives?" her mother asked shrilly, squeezing Lily's shoulder protectively. "Good Lord, Lily—what happened?"

"Mum," she sighed meekly, swallowing the lump that had manifested in her throat, "I really don't feel like talking about it again…" And it was true. Now that she was home she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and forget everything dreadful that had happened that day.

"I would be happy to explain everything to you, Mrs. Evans," Mr. Potter offered, sending Lily a small smile.

"Please, call me Autumn," she said, smoothing Lily's hair out of her face. "And that would be lovely, thank you—Lily, poor thing, you've been through enough today sweetheart, go get cleaned up."

"Thank you," she said softly, directing it at both her parents and Mr. Potter.

She turned around, intending to go straight upstairs, but was instead startled by the sight of her sister leaning stiffly against the doorframe and looking a great deal paler than usual.

"Petunia!" Lily exclaimed, a hand flying up to rest on her heart. "You scared me! I didn't know you were there."

"Where else would I be?" she asked, and Lily shrugged uncomfortably. Petunia sighed and gestured for her to follow her out of the room; as soon as they were out of earshot, she rounded on her. "What is going on?" she asked sharply. "Mum and Dad are freaking out."

Lily frowned, thinking of her warm bed upstairs, but she started speaking all the same. "There was—I was attacked at work. A few of my friends were there and we managed to fight them off, but—Tuney, it was terrible. I…" despite her declarations against it, she felt tears prick her eyes again. "Mr. Clifford is dead; I saw him get killed."

Petunia twitched, but only said: "But where have you been all day? We had to miss our reservations at Luigi's—"

A sick feeling of horror overcame Lily and she gasped. "Oh my God—Tuney, I totally forgot! I am so sorry!"

Petunia's mouth thinned into a line and Lily grimaced, realizing too late that that had been the wrong thing to say. "You forgot it was my birthday?"

"I—I'm really sorry! There was just…so many horrible things happened today and—with Mr. Clifford's murder..."

Petunia started. "He was murdered?"

"Yes!"

"You said he was killed!"

"What's the difference?"

"Being murdered is ten times worse!" She paused for breath, her blue eyes flicking quickly over Lily. "Are you hurt?"

"N-No. I'm okay."

"Then I don't understand why you couldn't have come home!"

"It's a long story! If you would just go in the kitchen and listen to Mr. Potter..."

"You promised that you would be home in time for my birthday dinner," Petunia said lowly, crossing her thin arms over her blouse tightly. "That was the only thing I asked—"

"Petunia!" Lily protested, still struggling to blink back tears. "This morning you asked me to take the day off of work—"

"And you didn't, did you?" she asked viciously. "You completely disregarded everything I said, just like usual—you are so selfish, Lily!"

"I am no—"

"You are! You went off to that—that joke of a school because you wanted to! You went off to work at your stupid job because you wanted to! You don't care about me at all, do you?"

"I do!"

"God, if you had just done what I wanted, then you wouldn't have even been attacked and we could have gone out to dinner—I had to send Vernon home, Lily, because Mom and Dad were so distraught over you! They didn't even care that this was the first time they were going to meet my boyfriend!"

"Tuney, I'm sorry—"

"Save it, Lily," she muttered darkly, turning away. "I should've known that you'd fuck everything up again."

She stalked away up the stairs and Lily let out an indisposed sob as the tears she'd been repressing finally spilled down her cheeks.