A/N- Hey! I'm going to start using "~~~~J/L~~~" as a way to show time progression, bc asterisk and underscore lines don't show up.

Conversations and Comforts

I didn't tell anyone about my sister's engagement, even after a few days. The conversation seemed unnecessary to me: Euphemia hurried from work to home and back to work again, and Fleamont seemed just as busy. James- ugh! Potter!- probably didn't need to hear about it either.

Every few hours I'd consider visiting my home to congratulate Tuney. Knowing it wouldn't be a wonderful teary reunion didn't stop the urge to go. If anything, Tuney resented me the longer I went without saying anything about it.

I tried calling home several times in hopes she'd pick up, to no avail. She always refused to come to the phone.

To make matters worse, I just got my period.

"Shit shit shit." I said whilst searching for some tampons. I was crouched down, looking through the cupboard under the lavatory sink. Suddenly I wanted to be back home for a completely different reason. I never appreciated living with only women until that moment.

"Of all things to forget when packing. Of course I forget tampons. Of course!" After a few more minutes I slumped back down on the bathroom rug. "Fine. No tampons there." I stuffed my underwear with tissues instead. Not my finest moment.

"It's just temporary," I told myself, "I am going to find a tampon."

First I looked for the Two-Way writing pad. That didn't show up either. Next, I checked the other bathrooms. Still, empty handed.

Euphemia and Fleamont weren't home. While I'd rather ask Euphemia, I'd ask Fleamont too. Both options were out.

I wasn't about to ask James.

Potter, I meant Potter.

Not like I could find him if I wanted to; he wasn't around. He went over to Remus'.

I climbed the stairs and double checked my suitcase. I was correct the first time.

"Bloody Baron!" I yelled in frustration, flinging the socks to the floor.

I tried a summoning charm, and then one for a pad, too. Neither produced an object. If witches had different sanitary items, they must go by names I didn't know of.

The last place I thought of was Fleamont and Euphemia's room. She might house some in a drawer somewhere, I figured. Sneaking into my hosts room didn't seem very polite or respectful, but I was running out of options, and, if I didn't find one soon, a pair of pants.

Never being in their room before, I opened several guest-room doors unknowingly. Who knew long, identical hallways were so confusing?

"Not this one." I shut the door.

"Or this one." I shut the door.

"Or this one." I shut the door.

Finally, I swung open a more used door which squeaked.

This, most definitely, was not Euphemia and Fleamont's room.

It smelt of boy. And, if i was truthful with myself, not in an entirely bad way...

The walls were a glittering gold, small round objects zooming from corner to corner. I realized they were snitches. The bed was a brown four poster, like at school, except for the lack of drapes. A few athletes in posters waved when I walked in. There were two dressers, and one drawer on each overflowed with clothes. Replica Quidditch cups stood on display, while strewn bottles of cologne and deodorant littered the rest of counter space. A few pencils here and there, containers of ink, crunched up papers. Framed pictures caught my eye. I picked one up. There sat the gang of guys: Remus, Sirius, Peter…and James. They were drinking out of white mugs, scarves bundled around their necks, mushed into a single booth. All of them looked incredibly happy, Sirius laughing with his mouth open, Peter smiling shyly, Remus almost spitting out his drink. James grinned, his black hair shining in the soft orange light of The Three Broomsticks. I traced the shape of his chin with my finger. He was lifting his mug into the air, as if to give a toast to the camera. Or the viewer. His eyes looked dark in the lighting, but I could tell they were looking right at me. His picture-self winked.

The feeling in my stomach snapped me out of my trance.

Too late, however.

"Why are you in my room?"

I spun around.

James looked very different from the picture, yet still so similar. No scarf, no mug. Same hair, same glasses. And something else I couldn't quite place.

"Oh! Um..." My eyes darted around him, as if an object in my surroundings could save me. "I…needed…something."

Wow, great one Lily.

"What in particular that you couldn't find anywhere else in the house?"

A tampon.

Which, I realized, I also couldn't find in this room.

"Forget it."

"And…. what are you holding?"

I looked down at the picture in my hand. Oh bugger.

"Is that my picture?" James seemed a bit miffed, and a tad amused.

My face filled with heat. Not amused. Anything but amused. He should not enjoy this in the slightest.

"I didn't mean to- I came in here…I came in here looking…" I stood up straight, "I came in here looking for a tampon. Or several, if you have them."

"Oh."

The blush crept into my cheeks.

"Okay, well, I think my mom uses an enchanted object. I don't think they're tampons per say. I do know what it looks like though."

I took a breath and nodded, surprised by his maturity.

"Do you know where I could get one of them?" I squeaked out, playing with the ends of my sleeves.

He pulled his wand from his pocket, "Accio Women's sanitary product of which I don't remember the name!"

I heard a door fling open from down the hall, the flutter of plastic in the wind, and suddenly a small wrapped item sat in the palm of James' hand. He handed it over, not the least bit skeeved.

"Thank you."

He shifted uncomfortably. "The rest are somewhere in my mum's room, if you need more."

"Thanks." I realized I'd been saying that to James a lot lately.

I inspected the object a bit to avoid his gaze, running my free hand along the edges, flipping it over. It looked exactly like a regular tampon package.

"So, you definitely thought these would be in my room?"

My head shot up. This again. "Uh, no. I couldn't find your parents room."

He smirked. "Or you just wanted an excuse to sneak through my stuff."

"Yes, that's it precisely." I said sarcastically.

His smirk grew into a smug grin. "And look at pictures of me." The triumph was everywhere on his face, his eyes practically twinkling with it.

I rolled my eyes, yet my pink cheeks betrayed me, "Obviously, because I don't see you often enough."

He held up his hands with a shrug, "Hey, I don't know what you'd want to do with a picture of me, I didn't want to assume anything too scandalous."

"Okay no. Stop right there."

"If you wanted one that badly you could have just asked, Evans. I know how birds get on their period…"

How birds...hOW BIRDS GET ON THEIR- My mouth opened but I failed to produce a sound. I wanted to laugh and yell at him at the same time.

"You bugger-"

"So it's true?" The way he inclined his head towards me made me even angrier. That smirk! That smirking smirk! Fuck that smirk!

Taking a deep breath, I composed myself. "Here. Take the picture. You looked horrendous in it anyway."

He raised his eyebrows.

I continued, "I just wanted to see how Sirius looked; he's always been the attractive one. It's the hair."

Feigning offense he took the frame. "And here I thought you'd be into Remus' intellect!"

"There we go," I smiled, "attractiveness and intellect, two qualities you lack." As I went past him and out the door, the warmth in my face no longer had to do with embarrassment.

"You just haven't been looking close enough, Evans." James said, his voice low in a way that shouldn't have been nice.

For once, I hated that James Potter was wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~J/L~~~~~~~~

It's surprising how easily one gets bored without multiple friends to talk to. I spent a lot of time lying in bed, listening to my records, thinking.

When it wasn't James, the war, or my excessive bleeding and mild back pain three days in, one of the popular topics was Petunias engagement. A single thought and I could rile myself into a rant about Vernon.

Like, what did she see in him? The man looked like a walrus! I understood he had a mustache that every girl liked nowadays, but really? It wasn't attractive! Let's just admit it! Unless he has a beard with the mustache, it isn't attractive. Just a beard is okay, but overall, clean-shaven is the way to go. Let's stop lying to ourselves. The guy isn't her type, either. Not to say she couldn't be attracted to a bigger person, because plenty of them are handsome, but I know Petunia. Petunia has posters on her walls of 'pretty' guys. Guys with nice shoulders and subtle grins and fluffy hair. Heck, even I can acknowledge they're fit. If he didn't attract her, she had to adore his personality, right?

Wrong, because I can't even say he's a nice fellow! He grunts for a hello, no handshake, no wave. He doesn't make jokes, he doesn't have any capacity for banter or flirting. When I see him with Petunia all he does is grumble on about his work when he isn't staring at her like some horn dog. I'd rather see her with a man who annoys her with his obsessions or his puns than a man who can't carry on a conversation past "What did you do today, sweetie?" Where's the fun in that? If he can't make you laugh you can't spend the rest of your life with him and be happy. Hell, if he can't make you feel anything besides 'secure' and 'content' he can't make you happy. Those are good, important parts of a relationship, but they shouldn't be the only reasons. He's boring! Worse than boring; he didn't even qualify for boring! They've never had big emotional episodes. Of any kind. No yelling, no happy crying, no anything. Relationships can't just be chaotic, I know, but they need some emotional investment. Some feeling, some balance. With Petunia it's just "Vernon has a business meeting he's taking me to, it's at a fancy restaurant downtown, isn't that nice." There's no substance. Besides on occasions for work, she always makes the plans, yet gives him the credit because he's the one who drives. A guy should put in the effort sometimes. Both participants should think of fun dates, activities both of you could do. Even if it wasn't your favorite sport or whatever, it's nice to know the other wants you included.

And talents! The guy had none! I'm not joking! Not even a silly one, like juggling. Petunia's a good organizer, has a knack for makeup, and routines down to a tee- a trait we shared. Vernon on the other hand didn't do anything. He wasn't athletic, or into books, or watching the telly, or politics. He didn't seem passionate over anything! Even if he were an asshole, at least he'd be passionate over ruining people's self-esteem or something. Nope, this guy had nothing.

The only thing they agreed on was probably that his pay was decent and that I was a freak.

~~~~~~J/L~~~~~~

Fleamont started fixing up supper when I came downstairs. We were having a chicken dish with homemade sauce. Or, at least, he wanted homemade sauce.

"I don't have the time for it," He said while hurriedly stir-frying a large side of vegetables, "And, if I'm honest, my cooking spells are less than spectacular."

I grabbed a pan and the bundle of tomatoes, "I can sub in."

Thus, we began. I cut up the garlic, fetched the spices, and put the tomatoes into a large bowl.

Between cutting the ingredients, Fleamont and I began talking.

"How've you been dealing with the anti-muggleborn stigmas, Lily?"

I shrugged, "Ever since I was a First year people made comments. I'm used to it. I find it almost amusing how a bunch of stupid millionaire purebloods feel so threatened by people like me." I looked up, "No offense."

Fleamont smiled- eerily similar to James'- "None taken. Historically we 'stupid millionaire purebloods' tend to suck."

I grin. "You're exempt."

"Well! Now that I have the Muggleborn seal of approval…"

"You can murder the rest of them!" I laughed. "They'll never see it coming!"

"Oh no! You unhatched my entire plan!" He even attempted an evil cackle.

Once our laughter petered out we worked in comfortable silence.

Fleamont and I switched tasks. I started seasoning the vegetables.

"Are you ever afraid?" I asked, grabbing the garlic, "For Euphemia ? I know she doesn't do a lot of field work, but sometimes, when she does…?"

Fleamont scrunched his brows together and frowned. "Sometimes. I know she's more than capable, but…we're not getting any younger. I worry for her emotionally, mostly. Seeing her upset…-" he looks at me, his eyes incredibly soft, "well, I never like seeing her upset. It ruins me. Just a bit." He gives a small smile. "When she gets a broken arm I panic a little but we have potions and medicine for that. It's when she's overwhelmed and having nightmares that I feel…very powerless."

I only nodded, blushing. The way he spoke of Euphemia seemed a tad too intimate for my ears.

"It's amazing," he muses a little sadly, "loving someone that much."

I laughed nervously, moving the pan around as it sizzled, "I wouldn't know."

His twinkling eyes gazed right through me. He gave a knowing, mischievous look. "Oh, you will."

His certainness made my face redder. Damn my pale skin.

Fleamont glanced at me again, laughing. "Don't worry. It's only a little bit terrifying."

"Can't wait."

"You seem more than equipped for it."

"Really?" I huffed doubtingly.

"Really."

Right then the timer for the chicken goes off.

"You got those vegetables done Lil's?"

"Got them," I smiled, oddly enjoying the casual use of my childhood nickname.

"Good, the sauce is about done- I'll get the chicken out."

When we all sit down to eat, I can't help but notice how fondly Fleamont looked at Euphemia . Briefly, I wondered if that's how Vernon looked at Petunia, and that maybe I just never caught it.

~~~~~~J/L~~~~~~~

Typically this occurred in the morning, but I suppose something about the acidity in the tomato sauce at dinner triggered my nausea. Usually the second day of a person's period is the worst, but, lucky me, mine usually landed on the third. I've never gotten sickening cramps like Marlene did or headaches like Dorcas, instead I got nausea and back pain. And, as usual, heavy bleeding.

That's why I didn't want to get up from bed to brush my teeth.

Surprisingly, the magical tampon worked very well, and there were little side effects: I only experienced a mild stomach ache throughout the day.

I groaned. I flipped onto my stomach, hoping to relieve some pain. It couldn't have been past 9 O'clock, which is why James came into my room, slightly concerned.

"I figured you weren't feeling too well." He stood by the doorframe, looking gangly and tall. He swiped a hand through his hair.

The situation was awkward, but we went through worse earlier that morning: I gave up and said, "That's correct," and planted my face back down into my pillow.

"I brought you some water, and a charmed towel. It, uh, stays warm up to a few hours. My mom uh uses it, for like, cramps and such."

I lifted my neck, "Seriously?" The surprise in my voice came out more than intended.

He noticed, "Wow, good to hear you have so much faith in me."

"Sorry, I didn't expect it as all, for a teenage boy to bring a girl some comforts during her period."

As he handed the cool glass and the towel to me his fingers graced over mine. He averted his eyes, "Actually… it was my Mums idea. She and dad are busy though so she couldn't bring it."

"Aaaand whatever charm you had is gone."

"I had charm?"

"Wrongly credited charm; I was under the false impression this was your idea. Your mum deserves that now."

"So you find my mum charming?"

"Absolutely." I said, my words slightly grumbled by the pillow. "She's a wonderful woman."

He let out an exaggerated sigh, "Every person in this household seems to praise her."

"The only other person in his household besides you before I showed up was your dad. He should praise her."

James wrinkled his nose, "Oh gross."

"Not like that. You're the one who said they were 'busy'."

"I didn't mean it like that, either. They're going over taxes right now."

I sat up and took a sip of water, "At least that's what they told you." I smirked.

He stepped back, hands shielding his face, "Oh gross Evans. I am appalled."

"Even I could see the way he looked at her at dinner tonight…"

"He always does that."

I quirked my eyebrows, "How often did you say they 'did their taxes', again?"

He sputtered out a laugh, pink dusting his face, "You've got some nerve."

"Most people call it cheek."

Yes, I am thoroughly enjoying this.

He shook his head and wagged a long finger at me, but no words came out of his opening and closing mouth.

"Alright, Potter?"

The look on his face!

His cheeks burned red. "I'm bloody spectacular."

I calmly put the heated towel under my back and folded my arms behind my head. I sighed blissfully, "I bet your parents feel more than spectacular."

He left without another word.

"Thanks for the comforts," I whispered gleefully, knowing he couldn't hear.

~~~~~A/N~~~~~~~

A/N- Sorry this chapter is so short! I thought it was a nice break after such a long, semi-dark chapter before it. I tried exploring Lily's head a little bit, so most of this is just inner monologue and conversations with others. And I wanted Lily to show her cheeks side. Plus, a few subconscious clues on her attraction to James ;) I hope you found it enjoyable and slightly more comical than the last chapter, as that was my intention. Thanks for all of your reviews! I love reading all of them, they really make my day omg. Also, if I grossed you out with all the period talk, I'm sorry... but also not? I hate how it's rarely ever brought up in YA fiction, and not much in fanfic either. I thought it was a funny situation while also a realistic one, bc lbr, she'd have to deal with getting her period at some point.

Thanks for reading! :)

-Jackie