Disclaimer: I own nothing HP.
Hello, readers.
Thank you to all who reviewed!
I went back and edited my previous chapters with regard to my "Veritaserum" mistake, as well as a few minor errors I've caught, but I don't think they changed on my actual story. I'm still figuring out how this site works, so sorry about that!
Also, I know I said I would update a this past weekend. Well, it was insanely busy, and then I read The Hunger Games series ravenously in the few spare moments I did have. But now you get a mid-week treat! (Just what you wanted while studying for finals, I'm sure...)
Anyway, I don't feel too wonderful about this chapter, but I hope you enjoy anyway. Sorry for any mistakes-my editing process kept getting interrupted.

P.S. Review, please! It's not too hard to drop a line and it positively makes my day. I get a review high-they make me bouncy and dizzy and happy!

Chapter 7

"Lily...it's time to get up, Lily."

The voice sounded distant and I disregarded it, happily burying my face deeper in my pillow. My lovely, warm, nice-smelling pillow.

"Lily, seriously...it's almost one in the afternoon!"

Someone prodded my back and my shoulder blades contracted in protest. I reached around and tugged the covers over my head to protect myself. "Mmmm, no," I moaned.

"Everyone's wondering where you are," the voice told me. "You're the only one still in bed."

What on earth were they talking about? I frowned into my pillow as my brain struggled to catch up. I sat up and blinked at the bothersome person disturbing me and squinted, confused. "James?"

James rolled his eyes. "Sheesh. I always thought you were a morning person from how you act at school."

Everything came rushing back. "Go away," I said grumpily, falling back onto my mattress.

"Your mum wants you to be ready to go by two," he said, unfazed by my unpleasant behavior.

"Whatever," I replied into my pillow.

"You know," he persisted, "I will force you out of bed."

"Try it and I'll hex you." I reached out and groped blindly for my wand on my bedside table. It wasn't there.

"Looking for this?" I turned my head and opened one eye to see James waving my wand teasingly.

"Ugh, you're so mean," I complained, sitting up slowly and swinging my feet down to the floor. I stood, my sleepy muscles protesting. "See? I'm up. Now go away.""

He handed over my wand backed out of my room. Just before he shut the door, he poked his head back in and added, "But if you're not down in twenty minutes, I'm coming back."

I took the fastest shower of my life, dried my hair with my wand, dressed hastily, and went downstairs. Various family members were drifting aimlessly through my house, waiting for the wedding rehearsal and following dinner that evening. James sat in the kitchen with my Mum, reading the muggle newspaper.

"The pictures don't move," he noted quietly when I sat down beside him. I giggled at the look of astonishment on his face.

"It's strange!" he insisted.

"It's normal for muggles," I shrugged, pouring myself a large cup of coffee.

"Ah! Lily!" my mother pounced on me. "I have your dress in my room-you need to try it on. Although, if it doesn't fit, there's not much we can do." She frowned, worried.

"It'll fit," I soothed her, "If not...I'll fix it with magic."

She looked simultaneously relieved and annoyed. "It's not fair you can do magic," she complained, sounding like a small, whiny child.

James winked at me over her shoulder. I rolled my eyes. "Okay, I'll just go try it on really fast."

"Come down and show me," she instructed. "And we're leaving to go look at the church and the reception hall at two."

I headed upstairs to my parents' bedroom and pulled the dress out of my Mum's closet. It was still a gag-worthy color with my hair and eyes. I silently swore I would never subject my bridesmaids to ugly dresses and returned to the kitchen to seek Mum's approval.

When I appeared in the doorway and cleared my throat, Mum turned and looked me over. "It fits," she said happily, tugging at it a bit.

I glanced at James, who was bursting with silent laughter. I gave him my best death glare.

He regained some semblance of control in time to teasingly comment, "What a lovely color on you, Lily."

I scowled as he and my mum laughed. "I'm leaving," I announced unnecessarily, returning to the bedroom to hang up the awful dress and put on much more flattering clothes.

It took nearly three hours for Petunia and Mum to approve the decorations in the church and reception hall and take care of the details. When we got home, it was already time to get ready for the rehearsal.

I put on a dress and made James change into slacks and a button-down shirt, even though he wasn't in the wedding party. We left for the church-again-and met everyone there. After some minor stress involving musical instruments and missing sheet music, the rehearsal began.

Unfortunately for me, the groomsman to escort me up the aisle was not only singularly unattractive but also extremely clumsy. This was made worse by the fact that I was also a klutz. As we walked between the pews, I prayed we could make it to the front without tripping, which might be the straw to break the camel's back with regard to Petunia's frazzled nerves.

God must have not heard me, however, because a mere ten feet from the altar my partner stumbled over his feet, dragged heavily on my arm to regain his balance, and sent me crashing to the floor. I scrambled to my feet, trying to ignore the pain in my ankle from falling oddly in my high heels, and made it to the front. I took my place with a burning face that rivaled my burning ankle and hoped Petunia wouldn't hear about the mishap.

For some reason, the priest had decided he needed to rehearse his entire sermon as well as the vows, so I had ample time to zone out and lose myself in my own random thoughts.

My mind gradually drifted to my own wedding. Personally, I thought Petunia, at nineteen, was too young to be getting married.

I had always seen myself getting married in my mid-twenties-after my auror training was finished and I had worked for a few years. I suppose I might think differently if I currently had a serious boyfriend, but I didn't. I needed a few years on the dating scene outside Hogwarts before I found a potential husband.

I wanted a kids someday, but first I had to survive the war. Being an auror was dangerous even in safer times, but with the war, it was almost like signing your own death certificate. Suddenly, I wondered if I would ever get to have a family.

My depressing thoughts were interrupted by a sharp fingernail poking me in the ribs. "Go on," hissed one of my fellow bridesmaids. Vernon and Petunia had already finished rehearsing their vows and disappeared down the aisle.

I moved to take the proffered arm of the groomsman, but when I put weight on my right ankle, it gave out. For the second time that night, I collapsed ungracefully to the floor. "Ow! Shit," I swore loudly.

"Lily!" my Mum yelped, a mixture of reproach and concern in her voice. "Language-oh, darling, are you all right?"

"No, she's not," James said, suddenly at my side, gently touching my bad ankle. "She's sprained her right ankle." he scooped me up easily and carefully maneuvered down the church aisle, my parents following. The procession fell apart in the slight disarray. As he carried me past Petunia, I saw her fuming and cringed, wondering what she would do later.

"Let me heal it," I insisted, slapping James' wand away. He had offered to take me home after I injured myself and we were seated in my living room. Everyone else was still at the rehearsal dinner.

"No," he said sternly. "You should never heal yourself unless it's an emergency."

"But you aren't a trained healer!" I protested, trying to shield my foot from his wand.

"Neither are you," he pointed out. "But I've had lots of practice. More than you've had."

"Oh really?" I asked, the throbbing pain in my ankle making me testy. "And why is that?"

"I'm a Marauder," he waved his hand dismissively. "We get injured all the time. We got tired of visiting Madame Pomfrey incessantly, so we learned how to heal each other."

"Fine," I snapped petulantly. "But if anything goes wrong I'm blaming you."

He shrugged and pressed the tip of his wand onto my ankle. "Ow," I whined, wincing. "That bloody hurts!"

He ignored me and muttered something under his breath. My ankle felt extremely warm for a moment, then the bruising disappeared and it shrunk back down to its normal size. I flexed it experimentally. It felt fine. "Thanks," I said. "I-er-I'm sorry I was being rude."

He grinned. "S'fine, don't worry about it. You hungry?"

"Yeah," I said, hopping off the couch and running into the kitchen on my newly-healed ankle.

The only thing in the fridge was a three-fourths full bottle of white wine and a box of cupcakes. A rather limited selection, but not the worst possible dinner. I placed the wine and the cupcakes on the counter and seized two juice glasses. Not quite as classy as wine glasses, but harder to spill or break.

Gathering all my plunder, I led James upstairs to my bedroom. I spread out some of my blankets on my floor and set down the food. I settled against a pillow, James sitting across from me, and poured the wine.

The rest of the bottle of wine, seven cupcakes, and much conversation later, James and I were both sprawled out on the floor sleepily.

I remembered what I'd thought about during the wedding rehearsal that evening. "Are you afraid you'll die before you've ever really lived?" I asked James.

He remained silent for a moment. "In the war, you mean? If we fight?"

"Yeah. Being Aurors will be dangerous with Voldemort and his Death Eaters on the loose. We'll both be targets-a blood traitor and a muggleborn, fighting dark wizards."

Alcohol made me blunt.

"I am afraid," he answered softly, closing his eyes. "Anyone can die at any time, sure, but the war and everything makes our death risk so much higher. We might not live to turn twenty, and it scares me. I've always been able to see myself in fifteen years-married, with a family, and Voldemort gone. But now...it's harder to picture that future."

So much for any reassurance that I would live through this mess.

"You just have to take it day by day," James continued, "and keep reminding yourself that there's always something to live for, that there's always hope, even when it's too dark to see it."

"I'm scared of the dark," I said, feeling much too young for this war, much too young to be considering my own mortality so plainly.

"We can make it through," he said. "You, me, Sirius, Remus, Peter...Marlene...Alice...Frank..."

"But what if we don't?" I asked fearfully.

"We can't think that way," he said. "We can't live like we're dying. We have to live like we're alive. We're not dead till we're cold and still and gone. And yes, we have to accept our mortality, but we shouldn't be passive about it. And if we do die...we'll have gone down fighting."

We were both quiet for a while, considering the heavy thoughts and drifting between sleep and wakefulness.

Eventually, I moved closer to James and rested my head on his chest. He put his arm around me and pulled me into his side. "I'm glad we're friends," I said sleepily.

"I am too, Lily. And good friends, yeah?" His voice was blurry with exhaustion and drink.

"Yeah," I agreed, yawning.

We fell asleep there on my carpet, amidst twisted blankets, cupcake crumbs, and empty juice cups, the air smelling faintly of bittersweet wine.

A/N
Okay, tell me truly, was the last conversation silly? I don't know if I write serious conversations very well. And I hope it wasn't too depressing (that is, if you didn't laugh at it!) The whole story won't be like this, I promise! I felt like it needed this conversation, though. Next chapter, Sirius returns and brings the humor with him. There's also a Marauder prank coming up...
Review! Next chapter isn't going up until I have 30 reviews. (Hey, I can hope, right?)