It was the last day of the year, and the castle was nearly empty, save for a handful of students and professors.

Persephone Drake sat at her desk, turning a thin metal bracelet over and over in her hands, as though she hoped that each time she saw the tiny ruby, something would have changed. But it was always the same bracelet, and had been for two decades. It was one of the few things that hadn't changed a bit over time.

There was a soft knock at her door. "Come in," she said quietly, still staring resolutely at the bracelet.

Professor Knight pushed the door open and poked her head in. "Just checking in, dear. You weren't at breakfast."

Persephone almost cracked a smile. "You can sit down, if you'd like."

She accepted the offer and slowly walked over, taking a seat. "Are you alright? I know today must be hard on you."

"Prof— Clara," she corrected. She was still getting used to calling the woman who had been her favorite professor when she was at Hogwarts by her first name. It seemed almost disrespectful. "It's not fair."

"I know," she agreed sadly, her thin fingers tying into knots in her lap.

"It's been eight years, and I still can't let it go. It feels like it happened yesterday, not thousands of days ago. Will it ever get easier?"

"Truthfully, no," Clara admitted. "Days will come where it hurts a little less, but it's hard to get closure in a situation like this. It's always going to sting."

She was quiet for a long time, and when she finally looked up, there were tears in her eyes. "Do you remember when you read our palms for us in fifth year? We'd just taken our O.W.L.s and you did it as a treat. You told her—you said that she would live a long life, Professor. You were certain of it!"

"I'm sorry," the old woman whispered. "I—"

"But," she interrupted. "You told us that we both had indicators of future hardship. Is this what you meant?" She shook her head. "We got matching bracelets. Right after our last day here, we went out and bought these bracelets. I got her one with a sapphire for Ravenclaw, and she got this one for me. Ruby, for Gryffindor. Each other's houses, you know. So that, even if we didn't see each other for long stretches of time, we always knew the other was wearing theirs, so in a way, we were never too far apart. She was my best friend."

"When was the last time you went to see her?"

"A couple years ago. I keep planning to go, but I can't, it's just too painful."

"I think it's time you paid her a visit."


This was, perhaps, the best Christmas holiday Lily had had in a while, though she would never admit it.

The Potter manor was like the palace she'd dreamed of when she was young. Five floors, each with long hallways and enormous windows. There were sprawling grounds behind it, complete with rings reminiscent of the ones found on the Quidditch pitch. They did have house-elves, something she wasn't sure yet how she felt about, but as a whole, she found that she enjoyed the house.

James's parents were older than hers by several years, and they were so sweet to her. His father seemed genuinely interested in Muggle things, and his mother had been delighted to show Lily the library, where she immediately pointed out the extensive collection of books on Transfiguration. "James mentioned you were struggling in that class, so feel free to borrow any of these that you think might help," she'd said.

Lily should have been upset with him for telling his parents that, but she was so overwhelmed and grateful that anger was nearly impossible. The Potters were genuinely good people. They'd taken in Sirius, they were—as far as she could tell—kind to their house-elves, and they vocally opposed him and everything he stood for.

"You know," she remarked to Remus as they helped in the kitchen. "I reckon I might just marry him, just because of his parents."

"I heard that," James grumbled while Remus laughed.

Sirius, who was lounging in a chair and watching the others work, said, "Hey, it's better than nothing, isn't it?"

"If the only reason a girl wants to marry me is because she likes my parents, I think I'd rather die alone."

Lily smiled. "Well, I hope you're not after a girl who hates your parents, because that'll be hard to find."

He gave her an unreadable look. "No, I don't think that's what I want at all."

Sirius rolled his eyes, because he knew what James meant and what Lily was somehow unaware of.

There was a tap at the window. Lily abandoned the carrots to let in Selene, who had a scrap of notebook paper. She'd written a letter home the day before, updating her parents and letting them know that she was having a good time, and asking how their holiday was.

Her mother's usually pristine script was sloppy and rushed; this should have tipped her off that something was very wrong.

Lily,

Your father has had a heart attack. It doesn't look good. Come as soon as you can.


"Dad, I can't do this."

Mr. Macdonald put a gentle hand on his daughter's shoulder. "You say that every year, sweetie."

"And you always make me do it anyway," she said dully.

"You'd regret it if you didn't." He didn't tell her that without her there, he himself might not be able to do it. He depended on her more than she would ever know. But he was her father and he was supposed to put up a strong front, so he acted as though he was there for her, which he was, of course, but she was there for him just as much, if not more. She just didn't know it.

They walked through the sliding glass doors and Mary immediately took a seat, staring with glistening eyes at the slim brunette lying in the bed. She grasped her hand tightly. "Hi Mum," she said in a broken voice.

The woman, of course, did not answer. Her eyes remained closed, as they had for years, but Mary still talked to her, on the off-chance she could hear her. "I miss you. I, I just want you to come back. Please," she sobbed.

"Tell her about school. Just talk like you would normally," her father said soothingly. He always had to walk her through it at first.

She took a steadying breath and wiped her eyes. "I'm doing really well in my classes. I'm going to be a Healer someday, Mum, and maybe I can find a cure, or at least learn what exactly happened to you. I've been studying really hard. I want to make you proud." Once she got started, it came naturally, like she really was having a conversation with her mother. "I've been spending a lot of time with Sirius Black. I think you knew the Blacks, didn't you? They're all pretty rotten, but Sirius is nice. He's a lot like you and Dad. He's been helping me study for the entrance exam. Oh! I punched Corvus Mulciber in the face. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. He deserved it."

Across from her, Mr. Macdonald frowned. He hadn't heard about that yet. It sometimes concerned him that Mary talked more freely to her comatose mother than she did to him.

"He was insulting you, Mum. He's, he's Carina's son! He knows what happened. What was I supposed to do? But besides that, everything is going well. We have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor again. She's your friend who used to visit sometimes, and I think she was in your wedding. She's very nice, but she always looks so sad. I guess that's it. I miss you," she repeated, leaning over to kiss her mom's forehead. "Your turn," she said softly, getting up and leaving so he could have a few minutes alone with his wife.

On her way out, she ran right into Professor Drake.

"Mary!" she exclaimed. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright. What are you doing here?" As soon as the words left her mouth she realized that she sounded rude. It was, after all, none of her business why her professor was at St. Mungo's. "I mean—"

"I'm actually here to visit your mother."

Oh. "Dad's talking to her now, but you can go in in a minute."

Persephone took a deep breath. After her conversation with Clara, she had decided what she was going to do. "I have something for you."

Mary didn't respond.

She slowly slid her bracelet off. "Your mother and I bought these for each other after we graduated. She gave me one with a ruby because she was a Gryffindor. She was always true to the traits of a Gryffindor: brave and courageous and loyal. She would've done anything for her friends and family. I think it's time you had this." She handed it to Mary.

"Are you sure?" she asked, cautiously taking it from her. When Professor Drake nodded, she slipped it onto her wrist.

"Are you taking Divination?"

What a strange question. Mary laughed. "Of course not!"

"You should talk to Professor Knight sometime. She was Delphine's favorite professor. I'm sure she could tell you stories about her. You look a lot like her. Your mother, not professor Knight. Same face and everything."

Mary smiled. That was one of the best compliments she could get. "Thank you."


"Thank you, Mrs. Potter," Lily said.

James had asked her if she could Apparate with Lily to the hospital the minute she told him what the letter said, and his mother had happily obliged. They were standing in a patch of trees near the entrance. "It was no trouble. I hope everything works out." She gave Lily a quick hug, and then she was gone.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been to a hospital, and she approached the front desk with trepidation. "I'm here to see Charles Evans." She consulted the short note from her mother. "Room four-seventeen."

The woman smiled sadly at her and handed over a green wristband. And then Lily was running, past the lift because she didn't have time to waste waiting for it, up three flights of stairs, and down the corridor, only slowing down to give the automatic doors at the front of the ward time to open. She skidded to a halt when she saw her mother and sister sitting in a waiting area.

"How is he?" she asked, joining them.

Petunia sniffed. "They took him to an operating room. They haven't said much."

I should have been there, she thought. She should have been at home with her family, not gallivanting with the Potters. She hadn't even said a proper goodbye; she'd been so eager to get out. "How did this happen?"

Mrs. Evans twisted her wedding band anxiously, eyes fixed on the ugly grey walls. "We were eating, and he suddenly put a hand on his chest, and I—I thought he was joking. You know how he is. He finds the most inappropriate things funny. But then he fell out of his chair, and, well..." She trailed off, because ending that sentence seemed unnecessary.

"He's going to be okay, though?" Lily asked. Neither of them gave an answer. "He's not even fifty! Young people don't die from heart attacks. He'll be fine," she decided.

"Lily," said Petunia. "I admire your optimism, but you must be realistic. There's a very real chance he won't make it."

"Don't say that!" Petunia was such a downer, and she always had to be right. Because she was older, she thought she knew more than Lily. But that wasn't true. Not now. "He's going to make it. I know it." She was so confident and sure that her sister didn't argue.

Petunia knew that the odds weren't in their favor. While she didn't like that fact, she had accepted it because that's the way life worked. Sometimes, the people you loved were taken from you at inopportune times and it was horrible but there was no use dwelling on it. Her father lived a very happy and content life, even if it was cut short. And she would have to find a way to make peace with that.

One of the doctors came through the automatic doors and walked towards them. His expression said it all. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "We did everything we could."

Lily leapt up. "What do you mean?"

"He's gone."