9.

"I can't read it properly, but it's definitely about the mirror – I think John and Evans are trying to pass themselves off as curators from the Museum."

Lily sat on the kitchen counter, the telephone in one hand against her ear, and the other clutching the Reader's Digest close to her face as she tried to decipher the print over an advertisement for an encyclopaedia collection.

"They're trying to persuade someone in the area to sell them the mirror?"

"Something like that," Lily acknowledged. "Obviously the Death eater's didn't get the mirror when they killed Snell and John's still looking for it. Perhaps Snell bought it for someone around here, or gave it away before they found him."

"Why don't they just steal it?" Ignis asked. "Wouldn't it be easier?"

"It's too valuable," Lily replied with a slight sigh. "If something like that went missing it would be all over the Muggle news." She dropped the magazine onto the counter beside her having given up on decoding the text.

"Hmmm," Ignis appeared to agree. "You'll have to follow them; find out where they're going every day."

"That was the plan," Lily told her with a roll of her eyes that she was thankful Ignis could not see. "At least Evans knows I'm onto him now; no more sleeping in."

"I can't believe that guy has the nerve-"

"Wait a sec." Lily cut her off abruptly as she heard something in the adjoining room. Smith and Evans, who until now had been talking loudly, had hushed their voices suddenly, talking in hurried whispers. "I'll call you later, gotta go," Lily hissed into the reviver, dropping down from the kitchen top.

"What's going on?"

"I'll call tonight, I swear," Lily replied, carefully hanging up the phone and tiptoeing toward the living room. She stopped at the closed door, listening with her ear to the wood.

"I just don't understand." That was Evans. "What possible reason-"

Smith cut him off. "She is my guest. I do not see how her presence in this house should affect you in any way."

"It's not me I'm concerned with. I'm sure you have not forgotten why we are here."

"Do not presume to lecture me on my own business, Mr Evans."

"My apologies Sir. I only worry about what might happen if she were to-" he paused.

"The risk involved with keeping her here, Sir. If she were to find out…"

"She is a Muggle," Smith replied with a hint of laugher. "What threat could a mere Muggle pose to us? They are ignorant to our world. The Ministry spends galleons ensuring it is so." If Lily hadn't already been to his apartment, there would no longer be any doubts as to whether Smith and Evans were wizards.

There was a change in Evans' tone. "If you will allow me to speak plainly, Sir." And she assumed Smith must have nodded because Evans continued, "this is extremely unusual. We are involved in a highly confidential operation and you have chosen to bring a guest. Forgive me for repeating myself, but I just don't understand why you would do something like that. Does she have a purpose you have yet to inform me of?"

There was a pause before Smith spoke again. "No."

"Then please," Evans implored. "Send her away. I do not feel comfortable with her in this house."

"I will not," Smith barked, and Lily jumped very slightly with his sudden outrage. He lowered his voice again a moment later as though remembering Lily was in the next room. "She stays with me."

"You are endangering this operation. Muggle or no she should not be here. There should be no witnesses."

"Silence," John hissed angrily. "I will hear no more on it Mr Evans or it will be you that leaves here. I want her with me."

"Sir-"

"She stays Mr Evans."

Lily heard footsteps and she quickly retreated form the door, hurrying back into the kitchen where she pretended to be making a cup of tea. A deep voice called from down the hall and Lily glanced over her shoulder in surprise. "Oh John, would you like a cup? Kettle's just boiled."

He shook his head, clearly irritated but she pretended not to notice. "No thank you, we are leaving shortly."

"Must you leave me here alone everyday," she pouted. He smiled, drawing her in for a quick hug. "I wouldn't be much of a nuisance."

"I am sorry," he told her as they separated. "But you would be terribly bored anyway. You would do better t stay here and work on your novel. How is it coming?"

"Super," Lily lied, hoping he wouldn't ask to look at it because it didn't exist.

"Good," he nodded. "Now we must be going, but as I have reminded you during the week, I do not feel comfortable with the idea of you leaving the house alone. I implore you, Abigail, please do not wander around the countryside unchaperoned, it worries me so."

Had Lily been serious about forming a relationship with the man she would have already dumped him by now for being so possessive. It was beyond protective, it was down right annoying. She nodded her head however, smiling her agreement of his rules. Evans appeared in the kitchen a moment later, scowling at her as usual.

"Ah, Mr Evans," John acknowledged, following her line of sight. "Let's be off, shall we?"

Evans muttered his agreement, turning back into the hall. Lily glanced at the clock as she followed John to the door to see them off. She had ten minutes to change from her jumper and jeans and get into her wedding outfit. "Goodbye!" she called, waving them off down the drive. John waved back from his passenger seat. Evans however remained determinedly sour.

When they were out of sight Lily sighed a breath of relief and apparated directly to the bedroom where she grabbed her suitcase and hauled it into the bathroom. There, she recreated herself as Lily Evans, applying her makeup in record time, shimmying into her dress and applying liberal amounts of sleekeasy to her now red hair as she did not have time to wash and dry it properly. The green eyes were returned last minute as she poked herself with the mascara brush, and realised she had not yet changed them. She had become so accustomed to seeing Abigail Winchester in the mirror recently that she had quite forgotten her own features.

Fifteen minutes later Lily was well on her way to the village, wishing she'd chosen more suitable shoes as the high heels she had decided to sport for the occasion were rubbing terribly on her toes and she teetered dangerously along the gravel path to her destination.

The roadsides were jam packed with the vehicles belonging to the various wedding guests that had no doubt arrived from England that morning. She frowned however when she spotted a familiar black car parked outside the butchers shop. Smith and Evans were right here in the village. If only she had known! Still frowning, she glanced around her as though expecting them to step out of a shop at any moment but John and Evans were no where to be seen. Huffing irritably she made her way up the street, glancing through the shop windows and trying not to look too suspicious as she peered though the netted windows of the houses between.

The chiming of the church bells caught her attention and Lily glanced up the street toward the people entering though the large double doors and then to her watch; her painful walk to the village must have taken her longer than she realised. Just as she began to panic, because she could not attend the wedding without knowing where John and Evans had got to first, the deep tones of a familiar voice spoke softly to her and a large hand brushed gently against the small of her back. "Excuse me, Miss." She spun to discover John Smith himself trying to step past her on the narrow pavement she was blocking, Evans behind him with his nose in a book; The A to Z of Etiquette for Muggle Celebrations.

Realising that she was gaping like a fish out of water, Lily quickly stepped aside allowing the men to pass. Evans did not glance up however John gave her a brief smile before continuing up the path. Neither of them had recognised her. Breathing a sigh of relief Lily began to follow them, not stopping until Lily discovered she was standing outside the double doors of the old church and John and Evans had just gone inside. They were attending the wedding?

Lily was waiting for the bubble to burst as she took her place on the bride's side beside an old woman dressed in violent orange and a large hat that kept knocking Lily in the side of the head until she finally scooted down the pew a little more. Everything just seemed to be running so smoothly – too smoothly. Especially as a strong Welsh accent caught her ears and Lily realised that the woman in orange was actually blocking her view of John and Evans sat on her other side. So perhaps whoever had the mirror was right here! And as Martha had previously explained, the numbers on her side were pathetically low, Lily counted no more than fourteen people including herself and the two men. This just kept getting easier.

The row in front of Lily consisted of a group of women around Martha's age – friends perhaps, but she doubted any of them would be important enough to take possession of the mirror. Behind her was a family with three young children who had just arrived. Lily couldn't help but think that had those people taken possession of the mirror the mother might have been able to afford a nicer dress so she cancelled them out too. An elderly couple were coming up the aisle now, taking a seat behind the chattering children, they were certainly a possibility. But then that dratted orange hat hit her in the side of the head again and Lily realised, that although orange was a hideous colour, the most extravagantly dressed person in the entire church was in fact the woman sat beside her. The giant kumquat was officially her new best friend.

"Excuse me, are you Lily?"

And there went that bubble.

Begrudgingly, Lily turned from the woman in orange to face the speaker in the aisle. A woman in pale blue and a slightly smaller matching hat looked down upon her anxiously, wringing her gloved hands.

"Can I help you?"

"Oh thank heavens!" the woman said in a frantic hiss. "I'm Martha's Aunt Glenda," she rushed an introduction. "You must come quickly – it's an emergency!"

A few people had turned to look including a man at the front whom Lily presumed to be the groom. He looked ready to faint. Not wanting to give the man a stroke, Lily smiled as she slowly stood from the pew before following the anxious Aunt Glenda down the aisle to a small door at the back of the church amidst many stares and whispering from the other guests. The door emerged into a small waiting room, and there in the centre, surrounded by a mass of white lace with mascara running down her cheeks and a nose to compete with Rudolph, was Martha.

She blew her nose, dropping the tissue into an overflowing rubbish bin by her feet. Checking her watch, she fished a folded piece of parchment from her packet, opening it for one last rehearsal. She found she couldn't read it, her eyes too swollen from tears and lack of sleep to focus properly on her own handwriting. She felt wretched, and glancing up into the bathroom mirror she discovered she didn't look much better, even with burry vision. The make up she had borrowed from her roommate and carefully applied for the occasion had been thoroughly rubbed from her nose with all the blowing. It shone a bright red in the middle of her otherwise pale face, and she was suddenly thankful to the friend for not owning mascara.

"Ready, Lily?"

She had not heard the door open and took no more than a quick glance at her intruder before hiding her face with another tissue as she blew her nose. "Yeah, I'll be right out."

But he did not leave. "You okay?" he asked tentatively from his position in the doorway.

"Fine," she replied, dropping the tissue into the bin and fussing with her hair. "You go ahead, I won't be long."

But instead she sensed him move further into the room and the door swung closed behind him. "No you're not," he said with certainty.

Determined to get though this day without another person seeing her cry she turned to him with supposed confidence, smiling her fakest of smiles. "I'm okay, really," she said, lying through her teeth. "Tell Dumbledore I'll be there in a minute."

But there was no hiding her bloodshot eyes or her pink nose and she felt suddenly naked under his knowing stare. Here was someone she could not hide from or fool with a toothy grin; he knew her too well. She felt her boundaries crumble under his pitiful gaze and before she knew it she was crying into his robes, his arms wrapped around her back.

"Silly girl," he said quietly into her hair. "It's not goodbye; you'll see all your friends again at Auror training." But she shook her head against him and he eased her away to better see her flushing face. "No?"

"I ca - I can't read my speech!" she sobbed, trying to push her way back into chest, though he held her firmly at a distance.

"Your speech?' he repeated with a slight grin. "What on earth-?"

"I miss them," she began to howl, finally forcing her way into his arms where he instantly wrapped himself around her. "I miss them so much!"

He knew whom it was she was referring and his tone was more serious when he spoke again. "Lily," he sighed, squeezing her tight. "I thought we were past this."

It took him by surprise when she shoved him roughly away from her, revealing an ugly frown on her usually pretty face. "How can I get past this? They're my parents! It's my graduation; they're supposed to be here!" Saying the words out loud stung more than she could have ever imagined, and she fell to the ground in a boneless heap. "I want them back so much," she continued to sob, not caring anymore about appearances as she wiped it on her sleeve like a child. "I w-want my Mummy."

He stood helpless above her for a moment before doing the only thing he could, and lowered himself onto the cold tiled floor beside her. Tentatively he reached out for her, uncertain as to whether she may lash out at him again. She didn't, and he proceeded to wrap am arm around her shaking shoulders. Instinctively she leaned into him. "Lily," he said quietly. "You know I would go to the ends of the Earth to bring them back for you if I could, but you know that's not possible. I'm sure they're watching out for you-"

"No they're not," she spat, causing him to flinch with her venom. "They're not here, James, they're dead."

He sighed, leaning his head against her own. "In that case all I know is that they wouldn't want you to be like this. Do you really think this is how your Mum would want to see you, Lily? Crying on a bathroom floor like a baby? It would break her heart."

Her bawling appeared to lessen and her breath hitched slightly as she tried to regulate her breathing between sobs. "But I miss them so much," she said quietly.

"I know," he replied, pulling her into his lap. "And you always will, but if you keep dwelling on the past you can never really move on and be happy again."

"I f-feel s-so alone," she sniffed, finally raising her head to look him in the eye. "Petunia-"

"Enough about Petunia," he cut her off gently, though his brow wrinkled slightly. "I don't want to hear any more about her." She squinted as though trying to hold back more tears, but he took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, just once, on the lips. "You're not alone, Lily," he said in a whisper. "I love you."

As though he'd hit her with a spell, her eyes widened in surprise and her sobbing ceased instantly as he looked into his eyes.

He nodded. "I'll love you forever, if you'll let me. You'll never be alone with me."

And just as though he'd muttered the counter-curse the flood gates opened once more and she sobbed harder than ever into the front of his robes.

"What?" he asked in alarm. "What did I do?"

"That was so corny," she continued to howl, pulling back slightly to look him the eye. He almost laughed in relief when he caught sight of a smile between her sobs.


"So we're good?" he asked, finding it difficult to hide his smile.

She nodded, falling back into him once again. "I love you James," she confessed into his robes. "But…"

"But?"

"I still can't see my speech…"

Upon spying Lily she released an almighty howl, just as Aunt Glenda managed to slam the door shut behind her. Lily rushed forward, taking Martha by the forearms and hauling her to her feet before attacking her face with a tissue. "She's been like this for an hour!" Glenda cried, scurrying forward and trying to shake the wrinkles from Martha's skirts. Martha merely continued to sob, thwarting Lily's attempts at fixing her make up. "I've told her; getting cold feet is perfectly normal." Martha shook her head, still sobbing. "Now she's just being selfish; there's a good man out there waiting to make her his wife and-"

"Glenda," Lily interjected softly, placing a hand on the older woman's shoulder as she continued to fuss with the ruffled silk. "Can I have a moment alone with Martha? Just a minute."

Glenda looked a little offended about being asked to leave when she clearly saw it as her job to prepare the crying girl for the ceremony, but she did so graciously a moment later, backing into the church through the little door.

"Poor you," Lily clucked, swiping at Martha's face again. "Has she been saying things like that all morning?" Martha nodded silently, bar her continuous sniffling of course. Lily sighed, guiding her toward a chair in the corner when she motioned for Martha to sit. "No wonder you're in this state," she said sorrowfully, looping her handbag off her shoulder, through which she began rummaging for her pressed powder. Finding it, she turned back to the crying girl. "This is about your parents, isn't it?"

This time Martha made an attempt at speech. "I w-want m-my mum and my d-daddy." Another bout of near-hysterics followed with the confession.

With a sigh of pity, Lily leaned forward and gave the woman what she hoped was a comforting hug. The shaking subsided somewhat but she still continued to sob into Lily's shoulder. "I know you've probably heard the bullst about how they're watching over you and how they're still with you in here," Lily said bluntly, with a hand to her chest as she pulled away. "So I'm not going to repeat it." Martha looked slightly shocked at this statement and the tears subsided immediately. Lily smiled. "See that worked, didn't it?" she grinned mildly, leaning forward to dab Martha's face again. The young bride snorted slightly, not sure whether it was appropriate to laugh or not.

Lily reached for the makeup, popping it open. "I'm only going to do you're make up once, okay?" she said matter of factly, dabbing the puff into the powder. "So no more tears. You're far more tanned than me, too much and you'll look pasty."

Martha nodded obediently, allowing Lily to pat the power over her shining nose. "Did – did you mean that?" she asked meekly as Lily placed the compact back into the handbag. "About my parents?"

Lily smiled, walking around the back of the chair to smooth Martha's dark curls. "I don't know," she replied honestly. "Maybe they're watching us and maybe they're not. I heard it so many times when my folks passed it eventually lost its meaning. It's just something people say to try and make you feel better… The truth is, nothing really ever does that."

Martha remained silent, turning her head to look at the redhead better. "You're not very good at this comforting business, you know."

Lily laughed, and to her great relief, Martha allowed a slight chuckle. "We can't dwell on the past," Lily continued, abandoning Martha's hair and propping herself against the wall as the brunette stared up at her. "That's all I really know. It isn't healthy. I'm not fanciful, who knows if your parents are here in spirit and all that rubbish? For all I know, they might be, but I don't care much for speculation either. All I care about if the truth." Martha, it appeared, had finally sobered enough and Lily grabbed a tissue with one last attempt at clearing her mascara from around her eyes.

"And what is the truth?" Martha asked.

"That they'd be proud of you," Lily replied simply, dropping the tissue into her bag and helping Martha to her feet. She began to complete Aunt Glenda's previous attempts of de-wrinkling the dress. "And that they love you," she continued with a smile. "But most importantly, they wouldn't want you crying on your Wedding Day." She gave Martha a pointed look and the bride blushed slightly.

"Maybe you're not as bad as this comforting thing as I first thought," she added with a shrug.

Lily smiled, stepping out the way so that Martha's reflection could be seen in the full-length mirror in the corner. She stood beside her thoughtfully. "One day," she said with a sigh. "I'm going to be in your shoes, but you know what gives me comfort?"

Martha shook her head, eyeing her reflection.

"It's that although the numbers on my side of the Church may be tragically low – and believe me, yours are," she added in an undertone, eliciting a mild giggle from the bride. "Take a look over to the grooms side, and you'll realise that not only is there this wonderful man who wants to look after you forever, but he's got a whole bunch of people standing behind him waiting to welcome you into their family too. And before you know it, your guest numbers aren't as low as you think."

Finally Martha gave a true smile, turning to Lily with all her pearly whites on show. "You know, that doesn't sound too bad at all."

"Of course it doesn't," Lily clucked, reaching over the pull Martha's veil over her head. "For goodness sake, girl, you're getting married!"

Martha gave a quiet scream, bouncing on the balls of her feet before rushing to claim her bouquet from the table. "I'm ready, tell Glenda I'm ready," she gushed, apparently unable to stop smiling now.

A number of people stared as she retook her seat beside the woman in orange but Lily gave the groom a discrete thumbs up and she was sure she could actually hear him sigh in relief. The ceremony began shortly after and Martha emerged from the back of the Church looking one hundred percent the happy bride that she should be. But Lily could not help but smile sadly as she watched the happy couple. One day, she had said, she would be in Martha's shoes. And she had pictured James at her side. But she'd lost that chance a long time ago.

A lone tear ran down her cheek and she felt stupid for being that sad person who cried at weddings, swiping at her face irritably with the back of her hand. There was a soft tap on her shoulder and Lily turned abruptly to find an arm snaked around the back of the woman in orange, holding out a tissue. Evans smiled at her softly and although surprised by his kindness, she took it with a small nod of thanks before they both turned back to the alter.

"…Do you, Anthony Patrick MacClay take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"And do you, Martha Teresa Snell take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."