Lily couldn't see straight, her vision blurred. Her head spun, her hands shook. Teddy…Teddy…Where was Teddy? She looked around the dark room, groping for something to comfort her, a teddy bear, a pillow, a blanket. She grasped nothing. Just coldness. All around her the same thing, the same loneliness, the same painful reality. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know what she was doing.

"Lily!" Roxy said, shoving the girl off of her.

Lily shook her head and looked around, the rest of the girls in the room still sleeping.

"What are you doing?" Roxy demanded, pulling away from her grasp.

"I…nothing," she said.

Cold lingered around her shoulders, the mantle immovable. What had that been? The sun was just cracking the horizon, the sky a dull purple. Roxy had scrunched up with her pillow again, falling back into slumber. Lily's heart pounded against her chest. She had been…underground. He was underground. She felt her stomach drop from her body, fear and astonishment gripping her.

No, it couldn't be. Why would Teddy be underground?

They lost him, didn't they? Was there any reason to believe he wasn't?

Lily tried to lie down again and fall back asleep, but her anxiety prevented it. They didn't know where he was…he was underground…they wouldn't find him…cold…lonely…

She stood up, leaving behind her blanket and pillow, and crept downstairs. It was fruitless to try and get more sleep. Maybe she would find some reprieve in the kitchen, mixing up some pancakes or baking some brownies – anything to take her mind off of Teddy.

Her father sat at the table, his head bowed over a cup of tea. She ignored him, pulling the ingredients she needed from the cabinets. Faintly, she wondered if he was asleep. It wouldn't surprise her, really; he had fallen asleep at the table before.

"What are you doing, Lily?" her father asked, not moving an inch.

"Baking," she replied simply. It was too early for long sentences.

"Where is he?"

Her hands slowed their work, the dry ingredients sitting listless in a bowl. Her father knew her too well.

"Underground."

Lily began measuring the wet ingredients, not wanting to expound further.

"Anything else?"

"It's cold."

She bit her tongue, holding back her tears, and dumped the wet ingredients in with the dry ones and mixed furiously. He moved behind her, standing up and moving towards her. He put his heavy hand on the small of her back.

"It'll be alright, Lily."

Lily shook her head.

"No," she said. "It won't. He's going to die there, alone and cold, and there is nothing we can do about it."

Her father removed his hand, leaving her alone to shiver in the harsh wind of reality like a leaf on a tree. He didn't say anything more.

Lily deposited the batter in her pan and slid it into the oven. She slumped on the floor, leaning against the cabinet. Why was she privy to this? Tears burned her eyes. She drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms. Why did she have to be subjected to it?

An image of Teddy – his turquoise hair faded into its natural brown, his face swollen and beaten, his body bloody and mangled – jarred her mind.

Her sleeves were wet with tears. She knew how he was – dieing and in pain, alone and cold – and yet she could do nothing. What was the point? What was the point? She couldn't even do an adequate spell, the only faint grasp of magic she had her potions. And what use was that in the real world? She couldn't save Teddy with that. She couldn't remove him from this hell he was in, bring him out of his despair.

"Lily?"

Shit. It was Scorpius. Lily could see his black boots, all polished in shiny in the obsessive way only he could polish them. She did not want him to see her like this.

"What's wrong?"

He sat down next to her, placing his arm firmly across her shoulders, his touch lighting her on fire.

"It's nothing," Lily said, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. "I'm fine."

She pulled away from him, despite the temptation to let him comfort her, to bring her back to normal, to pull her from this despair. Scorpius did not deserve that burden. Standing up, she leaned against the counter for support while she struggled to regain her composure. All she needed was a few minutes alone…and then she would be fine.

"You can tell me, you know," he said, standing up but keeping his distance. "I won't tell anyone your secrets."

"I…I know," Lily said, peeking into the oven. The brownies were coming along nicely, not quite done yet, but getting to the point of moist yet firm.

"Do you not trust me?"

"I trust you," Lily said, beginning to get annoyed. Did he not understand she did not want to talk? Maybe she had to spell it out for him.

"Then why won't you tell me?"

Yep, she had to spell it out.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, sitting on the counter.

Scorpius nodded and settled into a chair. Lily managed not to groan. All she needed was a few minutes alone. That's all. Nothing more.

"So why does it seem I always find you in the kitchen?" Scorpius asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's the one place I'm guaranteed to find solitude," Lily said. "I'm the only one other than my grandmother who regularly cooks, so…unless my dad's reading the prophet or my brothers are eating, no one's in here usually."

"So I take it you don't have a house elf?"

"Nope."

"Good morning, Lil," Albus said, entering the kitchen. "Watcha making?"

He brazenly took the chair opposite Scorpius, giving his Slytherin counterpart a lopsided smile.

"G'morning, Al," Lily muttered. Now she definitely wasn't going to get any time alone.

"Ah! Lily! What are you doing still in your pajamas?" her grandmother said, bustling into the kitchen. "And with a boy, no less! I would expect more from you, young lady. Now get upstairs and change!"

After taking out her brownies, she followed the instruction of her grandmother; no one questioned the authority of Grandma Weasley.