AN: Cece...in future land just finished the LONGEST CHAPTER IN THE WORLD, the one that got this fic going in the future. She is highly impressed with her commitment, since usually anything longer than...10,000 words she drops after a while.

Chapter 10: The Pub on Wienerschnitzel Road

A new day was dawning in Death and James Potter knew much better than to stay home that day.

First off, he had his internship in the morning, which he dared not miss, then he had quidditch practice in the afternoon. After practice, he had every intention of going to the Pub on Wienerschnitzel road to watch the Quidditch World Cup in Life: Ireland vs. Bulgaria. He could have watched this game at home, considering his son was going with all his friends (he wondered if it was problematic that all of his sons friends, except for one, belonged to the same family, but this was a worry he had never shared with his wife) and so his wife would be forced to watch the game so as to spy on the poor lad. But James had no desire to do that. Watching quidditch with Lily made him want to burn his eyes out with hot acid, because she didn't understand the necessity of an ambiance when watching quidditch.

And so he arrived at the Pub on Wienerschnitzel Road, ordered himself a beer, and sat down with his Shakespeare quoting quidditch teammates to enjoy the game. They all were looking forward to enjoying the game together, and periodically reciting Shakespeare's sonnets in the hopes that that would inspire some of the pub-goers to actually maybe come to some of their matches. Mostly the people that came were actors or muggle English teachers who wanted to hear some of the Bard's great speeches.

Now that that is said and done, allow me to introduce the following character: Cassandra of Troy. She is the best friend of Ariana Dumbledore (whom you may remember as the first acquaintance the Potters made in Death, or Albus's little sister—whichever one you prefer works just fine). She (Cassandra, not Ariana) has this unfortunate habit of seeing the future and telling people about it. Even more unfortunate is the general reaction that people have when she tells them what she sees: "Oh Cassandra, not another one of these." No one ever believes her, until, of course, it is too late. Ariana, at least, doesn't say anything, even though she doesn't believe Cassandra any more than your average Bob. Cassandra and Ariana (for those of you who don't remember) are the heads of the mysterious Flimbert Society, of which, as far as we know, they are the only members.

In any event, because James was out of the house and Lily was doing that thing that she does (i.e. obsessively spy on her son, and doing the ironing) Ariana and Cassandra arrived to keep her company and chatter.

They watched as the Weasleys set up their tent, they watched as Harry, Ron and Hermione found their way through the camp site and met up with several companions, they watched the appearance of Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch (whose pitiful and imminent death Cassandra predicted, to universal eye-rolling).

After the group arrived at the quidditch pitch (Lily had to admit aloud (taking advantage of her husband's absence) that it was a rather snazzy looking stadium) and after the Veela and the Leprechauns did their things, the game began. Lily was actually surprised at how much she was enjoying the game, considering James was not there to explain it in a patronizing way (as if she hadn't become very well acquainted with the game since the age of eleven). She was even beginning to enjoy herself a little, or at least, she was until Cassandra said

"Flimbert alert."

"Who?" replied Ariana quickly.

"Lynch."

"Hmmmm." Ariana appraised the Irish Seeker. "Definitely."

The two girls nodded knowingly at each other and Lily sighed, to express her exasperation over the fact that she had NO idea what the hell they were talking about, and the fact that they were under no circumstances going to explain it to her.

The game ended relatively quickly, the Weasley Twins won a large sum of money and everyone went back to their corners. Lily expected that James would be back fairly soon and hoped so, as the two girls were now speaking in code about their little society. (James was in fact enjoying another pint with his comrades, who were trying to help him memorize Shakespeare's sonnet 116, so that possibly he could recite it correctly to Lily and convince her to sleep with him--something she was becoming less and less willing to do now that Harry was at Hogwarts and something interesting might tentatively happen--James was currently on line 6. He was, admittedly, learning very quickly, when there was sex on the line.)

Lily paused the screen to make some tiramisu, which was a dessert that was looked upon with wholehearted joy by the two guests. She sang to herself several Beatles tunes as she prepared the dish. She made it carefully and slowly, with the art of one who enjoys cooking and doesn't want to finish the task too soon. There was the added benefits that she didn't have to hear the Flimbert mumblings and that her husband might be home soon.

Well, James did get home (she heard him greet Ariana and Cassandra, then unpause The Wall), and he came into the kitchen as Lily was putting the tiramisu into the refrigerator

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments; love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wand'ring bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

She smiled at him, and stood on her tip-toes to give him a kiss.

"You are getting much better at reciting Shakespeare."

"I didn't screw up this time," smiled James, kissing her again.

"With the text, no, with the recitation yes."

"Dear god, what did I do this time?" he said kissing her again.

Lily smiled. She knew exactly what was on his mind. She really did enjoy teasing him sometimes. She had to admit, for a pureblood to join a quidditch team devoted to Shakespeare, that took rather a lot, especially since he had had no idea who "that Shakespeare bloke" was at the time.

But he seemed to be enjoying himself, and Lily liked having discussions of Shakespeare over dinner, when they paused from their spying on Harry (like right now).

"Well, as I say, the text was correct. You just had a little problem."

"Which was…"

"You didn't pronounce the 'ed' on 'fixèd mark' correctly."

"Well, Lily, you see, in English, it is rather rare that we pronounce the 'ed' at the end of the word."

"Except that in Shakespeare, when there is an accent over the 'e' of the 'ed' you do."

"I learned it by ear, not by text."

"And your teammates didn't correct you?"

"Well…Rome was a bit tipsy…"

"That'll do it, won't it?" she smiled and kissed him more deeply this time. She was in a good mood. Shakespeare had some strange effect on her. It made her…well…it was hard to describe.

There were screams in the other room.

Fuck. Thought James.

What the...? Thought Lily.

The pair of them entered the living room to find the Dark Mark floating above the trees by the campsite.

"Well, he's coming back for sure now," said Cassandra.

And given what they were looking at, the others found it hard to discredit this idea.

Cassandra was one of those types who very rarely went home. She bounced from one friend's house to another's, without ever seeming to get the hint that she was (for the most part) unwanted. The only time she was ever genuinely wanted was when she spent time with Ariana Dumbledore, who was currently spending a great deal of time with the Potters of rue Colbert. She didn't mind them all that much, although she found it highly annoying when James insisted that what she was trying to say was "complete and utter crap", or when Lily gently hinted that she might not be thinking quite clearly. For some reason, from them, it annoyed her more than from others, probably because she had the distinct impression that they were stealing her best friend away.

This was, of course, "complete and utter crap", but Cassandra was used to being left on the sidelines, and it made her a bit bitter that she was going to, yet again, have to find someone who would just…understand her.

It was a hard thing to do. People, generally, do not like seers. They either fear them or mock them, and very often do one to maintain the appearance that they are not doing the other.

Ariana visited the Potters constantly. She had even petitioned Maya to let her move in with them, which Cassandra did not understand. They hardly knew Ariana and Cassandra lived alone: she would gladly let Ariana move in with her. It would make their Flimbert meetings more frequent, and they were some of the most enjoyable moments that Cassandra had in Death.

But Cassandra knew that she had to, as Nike would have told her, just do it--if you will forgive the split infinitive. So, she went to the Potters' house one day with Ariana. They were reasonable to her, or at least more reasonable than many people were. James bantered with Ariana and his wife, while the latter ironed and fussed over her son and husband. They were lovely people. Charming, kind, caring…

But that didn't stop them from mocking her when she predicted the dark deeds that would surround the Triwizard Tournament when it was announced at Harry's welcome back feast the second time that she visited them.

"Look, Cassandra, I don't see how you can possibly think that Mad Eye is an imposter who will cause 'danger and destruction' at Hogwarts this year. Sure, he may transfigure someone into an orangutan for looking at him funny, but he wouldn't do anything to undermine Professor Dumbledore," said Gideon.

"And cheating? You think there will be cheating? You are getting Great Britain, France and the former Soviet Union in a competition against one another. Of course there will be cheating. Even I could have told you that, and I, as my darling wife enjoys continuously points out, am unbelievably blind to the obvious," said James, taking a swig from a bottle of Blueberry Juice (a recommendation from his teammate Brutus).

"And Cassandra, darling, I think if my brother wants to prevent casualties, he will prevent casualties," said Ariana, taking her hand reassuringly. "But if you think it's going to happen, shall we take bets?" She glanced around the room.

"We will not be betting, young lady. You are still underage," said Lily.

"I am always going to be underage," grumbled Ariana.

"Should have thought of that one before you went and died, shouldn't you?" grinned Gideon.

"Take that one up with Albus. And frankly, I don't think Maya cares very much if I bet a little bit…"

"And what would you bet? Toaster Points? They are practically useless…" grumbled James. James was not in a good mood. He was exhausted. He had been dragooned into working for Maya for a week, and…it did not agree with him.

Because he was not Maya, and was therefore not omniscient, he spent most of his time trying to figure out how on earth her system of files functioned. Then he had to organize them. Then he had to cross-reference. Then he had to quadruple check. He hated working behind a desk. There had been a reason he wanted to fight Voldemort and play quidditch professionally when he grew up. He was frustrated with Toaster Points because it was an unpaid internship. Usually he would be fine betting Toaster Points. For all intensive purposes, that was the only thing Toaster Points were good for as they did not buy you food, clothes, supplies, etc. But if you had a lot of Toaster Points, it meant that you were an intensely good gambler.

But back to Cassandra. She understood them not believing her. It happened. No one ever believed her. She got it. Fine. Ok. Cool. But those mockings were not polite, oh-hi-Cassandra-you-are-my-friend-and-I-like-you-but-man-are-you-crazy mockings, they were more like there-she-goes-again-can't-she-get-a-grip? mockings and she didn't like it. Not one bit. But she didn't know these people, so she just kept her mouth shut.

So, when the delegates from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived a Death-hour or two later, she bit her toungue, even though she was dying to cry out "He'll be dead in less than two years, look at him!" when Karkaroff appeared on The Wall.

"Can you believe that?" said James. "I can't believe he got off. Look at him. If anyone was ever a Death Eater, it was him."

"He's even got a funny accent," said Gideon.

"Not all people with accents are Death Eaters," said Lily.

"I know. It's just on the scale of harmless to 'I'm evil and laugh while stroking my goatee,' a funny accent automatically raises your score a little bit. So does the goatee."

"Have you thought about this, Gideon?" she asked.

"Yeah. Haven't you?"

"No."

"Holy crap, he's still at school?" said James loudly.

"Who?" asked both Gideon and Lily.

"Viktor Krum. That's amazing! He can balance a professional quidditch career and still go to school. Impressive."

"I think that's the sign of an unhealthy home life," said Lily, shrugging.

"Why? What makes you say that?" said James quickly.

"Well…"

"You don't have a back up argument, do you? Well, I think that it is a sign of a healthy home life, if you asked me. His parents recognized his love of quidditch and his sheer talent and encouraged him to play professionally—something he does quite well, I might add."

Lily ignored him.

"Hah. I win. Did you see that Gideon? Ariana? Cassandra? I won."

"I think you only won because Lily wasn't thinking about what she was saying," said Ariana.

"Doesn't matter. Congrats, man," grinned Gideon.

"You know, she is right. He doesn't have a healthy home life. He has grown up thinking his parents don't care about him and all he wants to do is impress them which is why he is going to attach all of his hopes and dreams on a girl who doesn't return his affections because she is in love with someone else while all he wants to do is get married and have his own family and take control of his life." Cassandra had held back as long as she could. But she was an extrovert, and had something to say.

They all stared at her for a moment, then turned back to The Wall. She kicked herself internally. Her voice had sounded shrill, even to her own ears. God, why couldn't she keep her big mouth shut? They wouldn't believe her until they saw Krum around Hermione. And they wouldn't understand why Hermione wouldn't love this kind-hearted professional quidditch player until she started acting edgy around Ron during their sixth year.

She hardly paid attention during their hoots of glee over Fred and George's marvelous white beards, and ignored their horror at Hagrid's attempts to impress Madame Maxime. She wanted to go home. She was not having fun and Ariana was ignoring her and she didn't know these people and they were mocking her and treating her like a pariah, just like everyone else.

Things just weren't fair. Damn those bloody Olympians.

"I am going to—Merlin, why do these things keep—Oh for the—I can't—"

"Forgive James' incoherence. He is thinking aloud and clearly doesn't know what to think," said Lily to her guests.

"Lily, our son's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire. Illegally. He is never going to have a normal year at Hogwarts, is he? I had seven. He can't even have one. He's never going to understand what it meant to me!" snapped James.

"Really? That's why you are angry?"

"Yes."

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that, once again, without trying, our son—who clearly has all of my awesome traits—has outdone you?"

"No."

"That you died before your glory days could even get started?"

"No."

"Ohhh, poor Jamesie. Here, my darling. Why don't I give you a hug and make you some hot chocolate that you can cry into like a little girl," said Lily in a baby voice.

"Shut up."

"Poor Jamesie, feeling insignificant. No one at Hogwarts even remembers his legacy except the teachers. Poor poor Jamesie."

"Shut up!" snapped James.

It was in that moment that Cassandra realized something—something about the present that she had missed while her head was too focused on the future. These people mocked, not out of meanness, but out of affection. Lily was mocking her husband to tease him, but she understood why he was angry and was sympathizing in her heart. Maybe that was what they had been doing earlier?

She didn't know. She wasn't that good with the past—it wasn't her thing. But maybe she would pay a little more attention in the future.

"I know at least three of you want some of that Hot Chocolate," Cassandra said, getting up and heading over to the kitchen.

"That sounds wonderful," smiled Ariana.

"I'd love one," said Gideon enthusiastically.

"Yes please," said Lily, "James?"

He paused.

"Oh…all right. But not to cry into like a little girl, OK?" he said forcefully.

"Of course not, dear," agreed Lily placatingly.