A/N: Shout out to my fab friend Alicia for lending her talents to help with this chapter, and for giving me one of Anna's lines in the process. Maybe one day she'll read this fic and find out what it actually was that she helped with. ;)

Hazel opened her eyes and stared at an unfamiliar ceiling for a moment, remembering where she was. James's house. In James's bed. With James's arm still lying across her stomach. Carefully, she slid it off, and rolled over.

He was still asleep, and she'd never seen him asleep before. Propped on her elbows, she looked at him, and tried to settle on a single emotion to feel, but failed. Waking up beside him was such a strange, intimate thing. Strangeness no longer scared her, though. The thought that this could last, that this was her life now, and she'd have to go on navigating it as best she could, was still a little breathtaking, but it seemed possible in a way it hadn't quite before. When she thought about a future with James in it, something in her chest grew warm.

It was a week since he'd left his job. She'd been busy with final coursework in the evenings, though, and last weekend she had insisted he took the time to have a proper conversation with his parents instead of just escaping somewhere with her. What the conclusions of that conversation had been, she wasn't quite sure. She didn't think it had been disastrous, but he hadn't said much, and she hadn't wanted to pry. She was still worried about him, as much about his state of mind as about his jobless situation. Apart from anything else, James wasn't someone who liked to have nothing to do.

But the frown that had been on his face a bit too often in the last week had disappeared as he slept, and he looked peaceful and relaxed. His face was half-buried in the pillow as he lay on his front, sprawled there as if he'd been dropped face-first onto the bed. Her eyes moved over the muscles of his shoulders and back, and she felt a small smile tug at her lips. Yes, she liked waking up beside him.

She sat up and reached for her phone from the bedside table. It was ten am, but she supposed they'd gone to sleep quite late.

Somewhere outside his room, she heard voices, and someone laughed. Hazel froze. As far as she knew, his housemates didn't know she was here, since she and James had gone out to a normal, non-magical bar the night before, and hadn't come in until everyone else had already been asleep. And she doubted that they'd come barging in, but knowing they were just a room or two away made her acutely aware that she wasn't wearing anything.

As she cast her eyes around for her clothes, James made a sudden movement, and opened his eyes. For a moment, he looked sleepily at her, then he smiled.

"Morning."

"Morning," she said quietly. Her face burned, and her first instinct was to cross her arms over her chest. Stupid, because it was nothing he hadn't seen already.

He rolled over, his eyes lingering on her, and reached out a hand to brush her back lightly with his fingers.

"I could get used to mornings like this," he said.

Hazel felt her face getting even warmer, and wished she was better at knowing how to respond. His words – and maybe partly his touch too – made her feel like she was lighting up inside, but she didn't know how to express that.

"Me too," was all she said, giving him a small smile, then stopping as there was a clatter of something like dishes or pans somewhere else in the house. "Your housemates are up," she said.

"Yeah." He propped his arms behind his head and looked thoughtfully at her. "You want me to get up first?"

Hazel flopped back against the pillow, trying not to feel self-conscious. There was no need, after all.

"Maybe. If you don't mind."

"I could just Apparate you straight out of here, you know. If you'd rather not see them."

She turned her head to look at him.

"No, it's okay. I don't really mind. Anyway," she added with a stern frown, although her eyes were dancing, "I thought you were supposed to be getting used to doing things the normal way. You're not allowed to give up as soon as anything gets tricky."

He laughed. "True. Though what's with calling everything Muggle 'normal' – what are you trying to say about me? Am I not normal?"

Hazel also laughed, although a small amount of guilt smote her. It was true, she did tend to use that word, and although he was joking, she supposed it was a bit of a rude way to talk about his entire life and culture – because that was what it was, really, a different culture. She shouldn't imply that it was abnormal just because it was different from what she was used to.

"I don't know what else to call it," she said honestly. "I hate the word Muggle."

He frowned. "Really? Why? I mean, it's not an insult or anything."

"I know you don't mean it as an insult," she said, trying to explain. "But it's still a word you've given us, isn't it? And it's kind of a stupid word. It sounds like… like a kids' cartoon character or something. It makes us sound like children. And, well, it goes with the whole attitude that we're just that not important. I don't just mean the people who actually don't like us – I mean the people who see us as weak and helpless and needing protection, and who think that you guys know more about what's best for us than we do. I met some of those last year."

He looked surprised, then thoughtful.

"Well," he said at last. "I never thought about it like that before, but if you don't like it, maybe we should just call it, I don't know, magical and non-magical. If that's any better?"

She smiled. He hadn't argued, or questioned what she said; he'd just accepted it as valid.

"It is better. And I'll try too, because you're right – it's not okay to call my stuff normal, as if yours isn't."

At that moment, there was a heavy bang at the door. Hazel jumped, with a squeak of alarm, and pulled the duvet up over her chest, although the door remained closed.

"What?" James called.

"Well, we can hear you talking in there." Louis's voice came through, sounding as if he was grinning. "So we know you're there – both of you – and that you're awake. We're making fry-ups. Hurry up and you might get some."

They left the house on foot. It was their agreement: for the moment, when they were together, they would do things the normal – no, the non-magical way. Now that he'd started, James seemed to have got into it, and was genuinely enthusiastic about the idea. Of course, he still had to use magic in his life at other times, and he would still Apparate to come and see her or pick her up, because otherwise they'd never be able to meet, but other than that, when they left the house he would leave his wand behind – or at least keep it stashed in a bag somewhere.

It was strange, Hazel thought, as they made their way to the nearest tube station, that they'd come round almost full circle. In the beginning, she'd told James she wanted him to stop hiding magic from her, to let her see it all. And now they were back to ignoring it. But it was different now – it wasn't because they were holding back from each other, it was the opposite of that. And it wasn't forever; it was just so he could learn what it was like.

The day was bright and warm, and at some point she would have to go home and shut herself away from the sunshine to work, but she could put that off until after lunch. Her parents thought she was at Anna's, so they wouldn't worry.

James, it turned out, had hardly seen any of the non-magical side of London. Hazel hadn't spent that much time there herself, coming from the north, but she couldn't imagine living there and not exploring more.

"How far is it to Hampstead Heath?" she'd asked, and he'd had no idea.

"I just Apparate out if I want to hang out in the country," he'd said sheepishly. "And I don't know how far anything is, because I never use the trains or anything."

Hazel had had to step outside to access the internet, as the magic in his house was too much for her 4G, but a quick search had shown her that it was a direct tube ride up to the heath, and she'd bullied him into agreeing to a picnic – not that he'd needed that much persuasion.

The tube station wasn't busy, being a relatively small station in the middle of the day.

"I'm going to get an Oyster card," she said as they entered. "I might as well, if I'm going to be living here in September. I won't bother asking if you've got one."

The bridge of James's nose always creased when he was confused. "I'm going to assume 'oyster' means something very different in this context," he said.

She refrained from rolling her eyes. "Yeah. It's a travel card. You put money on it, and it's cheaper than buying single-use tube tickets. We should get you one as well."

She bought her own, then stood close beside him as he struggled through purchasing one. He was getting better at buying stuff, though. He no longer had to study the money for quite so long to work out how much he had, although he still had to do everything in cash, since he didn't have a bank card. In some ways that made it easier, because he didn't need to worry about card machines or PINs.

"Great," she said with a grin, once they had the cards in their hands. "Now, watch what I do."

He made it through the gates, but stared in alarm as she took his hand and towed him towards the escalator. It was one of the long ones that seemed to descend forever, and he tugged back, resisting her slightly.

"Whoa, slow down!" he said. "How do you even get onto that thing? It's moving."

She paused and laughed. "No way are you going to tell me you're scared of things moving at heights."

"I'm not scared of it." He grinned reluctantly. "I've just never used one before."

"You just step on," she told him. "Both feet on the same step."

He stumbled slightly, but she grabbed his arm to steady him, and he made it onto the escalator. He stared in fascination at the moving stairs beneath them.

"We have moving stairs at Hogwarts, but not like this. How does it work?"

"Electricity," she replied. "And don't ask me in any more detail than that, because I don't know."

The tube ride went without incident, and they strolled up the road and into the park. It was an entirely ordinary day, Hazel thought, looking around. A family on bikes, a couple of joggers, some kids kicking a ball, people with their dogs. None of them, looking at her and James, would see anything other than a normal young couple. Because that was all they were. The fact that James was a wizard didn't need to matter.

Their conversation stayed on trivial, light-hearted things. It wasn't until they had eaten the lunch they'd brought with them, and were sitting on the dry grass of the heath that Hazel looked over at him, wondering whether it would be a mistake to ask how things had gone with his parents, or whether he'd thought any more about what to do next. She didn't want to ruin things, or spoil his mood. He must have sensed her gaze, because he turned and met it, then sighed.

"You're going to make me think about it, aren't you?"

"Not if you don't want to," she said quickly. "I'm not going to push it."

He shrugged. "Well, there's not much to think about." He hesitated, and gave her a quick, sideways glance.

Hazel raised her eyebrows.

"Why do I feel like you're not telling me something?"

James sighed again. "It isn't anything really. I don't think I'm going to do anything about it."

"About what?"

"Well, this guy contacted me." He plucked a piece of grass, and twisted in in his fingers, frowning at it. "He's the Manager and Coach of Puddlemere United. They're a Quidditch team. Won the league last year. They're one of the best in the world, and he wants to give me a trial."

Hazel stared at him. This seemed like big news, and despite what she knew about his mixed feelings regarding a Quidditch career, she didn't quite understand why he wasn't a bit more excited or pleased.

"James! How come you didn't tell me before? Are you going to go for it?"

He looked miserable. "Probably not. Thing is," he went on bitterly, "this guy's an old friend of the family. He was Dad's first Quidditch Captain at school, and he's friends with half my uncles and aunts. And there's no way it's coincidence that he got in touch literally a few days after I lost my job. He's probably been talking to Mum and Dad, or Uncle George or someone. So it's just the same as before, isn't it?"

Hazel struggled for the right thing to say. She wanted to be understanding, she really did, but now it just seemed like he was shooting himself in the foot for the sake of his pride.

"Have you asked your mum and dad about it?" she said at last.

"No. I don't want to talk to them about it. It was bad enough last week. I mean, they're trying to be nice about it, but they just don't get it. They think I'm overreacting to it all, and they'd only tell me I should go ahead and do it."

"Well, honestly, I think they're right," she said bluntly. "Not about you overreacting – I don't mean that. But I think you should go ahead too! James, you're really good at Quidditch, everyone says so! Maybe he did hear you were out of a job – but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you on his team. He's obviously a pretty great manager, if they won the league. So he's not going to offer trials to people he doesn't really want, is he?"

He crushed the stem of grass in his hand, and threw it away. When he looked at her, his expression was stormy.

"Look, if he wanted me, he'd have given me a try last year. That's how it works. The teams send scouts to watch the Hogwarts games – that's how they recruit. And I got nothing, and you know why? Because I got kicked off the team. I was captain, and then I lost it because I couldn't keep my temper on the pitch. Nobody wants a liability, however good they are."

Hazel was silenced for a moment. She knew the story, although she hadn't realised it had affected James's chances at Quidditch – if it really had, and he wasn't just being paranoid. But she supposed it did make sense, and at least partly explained why someone who was supposed to be a brilliant player had ended up making tea in a Ministry office. Maybe if that hadn't happened, if he'd played his final game and been recruited by a team straight from Hogwarts, he would have accepted, and not got swamped with all these worries and insecurities. It still didn't change what she thought he should do, though.

"Jamie," she started, then paused, suddenly self-conscious at the realisation that she'd used his nickname without thinking.

He didn't seem to mind, though; he hadn't reacted, but he was looking at her, and she thought he was listening in a way he hadn't been a minute ago. She put a hand on his knee.

"Listen, you have to think about it. It's going to affect the rest of your life! I'm sorry – I always hate it when people say stuff like that to me, because normally it's bullshit. We've got years and years to make decisions and change our minds if we want to. But with this... James, if you don't do this now, are you going to get another chance? You have to think about what you really want. Think of it this way: If you could just leave aside all the stuff about your mum and dad, and things that happened in the past, is playing Quidditch professionally something you want to do?"

For a moment, he didn't reply. He continued to look at her for a moment, then leant back on his arms and gazed at the sky.

"Yes."

He didn't elaborate, but he didn't need to. She could hear the quiet, raw reality in his voice.

"Well, then," she said. "You've just got to forget your pride, and do it."

Some hours later, Hazel lay on Anna's bed, Biology revision in front of her, her mind half on her work and half on the conversation with James. Glancing up, she found Anna looking at her from the chair at the desk.

"You okay?" she asked, catching something odd in Anna's face.

"You know," Anna said without preamble, "I said it's fine to tell your parents you're at mine when you're with James, and it is. But if I'm going to cover for you, it'd be nice to actually know what's going on."

Hazel blinked at Anna in surprise. She wasn't sure what was happening, or what Anna meant, but she sounded on the edge of being annoyed.

"What d'you mean?" she said at last.

"Haze, we've been best friends since Year Seven. I know there's something you're not telling me."

"I was at James's!" Hazel protested. "I don't know what else you…"

"At James's?" Anna's eyebrows shot up. "So where's that, then? Because I thought he lived in London, and you were seeing him at his cousin's in Lancaster."

"Oh. Well, yeah, that's what I meant."

God, this was a nightmare. She hated lying to Anna, and she desperately needed to deflect these questions before they strayed into areas she couldn't talk about. But Anna was already talking again.

"Only you didn't get off the bus you said you were getting. I saw you, Hazel. You were walking through town right after the bus got in, from completely the opposite direction. Anyway, James hasn't got a cousin in Lancaster, has he?"

Hazel's stomach dropped with an unpleasant shock at this.

"What… what d'you mean?" she asked again, and she could hear that this time her voice sounded shaky and uncertain.

"I asked him about his cousin at your party. And he covered for it pretty well, but it was obvious from his first reaction that he didn't have a clue what I was talking about. What the hell's going on with him, Hazel?" Anna sounded very serious, even worried. "He didn't even know anything about phones!"

The part about James's cousin was her fault, not his. She'd been so worried about her parents, she'd forgotten to tell him about the cover story she'd given Anna. But now she had literally no idea what to say. She didn't have a story prepared, and she couldn't think of anything that would explain things.

"He… He was pretty drunk that night," she said. It was the most pathetic excuse, but it was the only one she had.

"He wasn't that drunk," said Anna. "I don't even think he was as drunk as me. Who is he? Where does he come from? And what did he do to that guy at the bar to make him let Dylan buy drinks? He must have done something. Hazel, I'm worried about you – there's something so weird about it all! Are you going out with a spy, or something?"

Hazel stared at the girl who was her oldest friend, apart from Scorpius. Anna was joking about the spy, but only partly. Underneath, there was deep concern in her eyes. And there was nothing Hazel could say. Any story would sound ridiculous and fake, but telling Anna she was imagining things wouldn't work, and wouldn't be fair either. She'd signed up to their Statute of Secrecy, and she'd promised – several times, to more than one person – to keep their secrets. That wasn't something to be taken lightly, and she didn't take it lightly.

But they weren't her laws. And Anna was one of her best friends. She was tired of the lies.

"Look, Anna, if I tell you, you have to promise to hear me out. It's going to sound weird, but it's not dodgy, I promise. Just… just listen to it, yeah?"

Her mind was racing. What the hell was she doing? Probably not the right thing. James would be horrified, and probably furious with her. Scorpius too. Maybe she was ruining everything. And would Anna even believe her?

"Okay," Anna said slowly, looking, if anything, even more worried. "I'm listening."

Hazel took a deep breath.

"Do you believe in magic?"