So, funny story. This is the third time within two weeks that I'm updating.

Another one – we were in this restaurant one night, and the food took forever, so I started drafting this chapter on a paper bag.

Third one – Kenny got his name from Kennilworthy Whisp, the author of Quidditch Through the Ages. No one got it. Well, two people did, with LOTS of help. So they don't count *winks*. No one gets virtual cookies, sorreh.

Chapter Fourteen

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, long-time Headmaster of Hogwarts, liked to think that he knew everything that went on under his nose. However, when his Head Girl was raped in the Head's Common Room, he had to admit that this was not the case. He had to admit that maybe the Head's private quarters were not the best idea, even if he couldn't deny that he had the tiniest of match-making ideas when he decided to try them out this year, with these Head Students.

He had to admit that no matter how much he wanted to ignore the problems and curl up in front of the fireplace with a book and a pair of thick woollen socks, he had to go and be the Headmaster that everyone looked up to.

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True to his word, James appeared at the Hospital Wing early on Saturday morning, only to be greeted by closed curtains around Lily's bed. Madam Pomfrey rushed up to him, herding him quietly backwards.

"The Headmaster's in there with her now, Mr Potter, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a moment."

James nodded tiredly and sat down on one of the chairs next to the Hospital Wing's doors, determined to wait until Dumbledore left. He'd left Lily without any explanations the night before – never mind that she'd been sleeping and the school nurse had all but shooed him away with her wand – and he wanted to get back to her, as soon as possible. He wanted to see that she was still coping, still on the border of all right – still alive.

And yet, as he sat waiting for the Headmaster to finish presumably interrogating Lily, he realised he had yet another problem: what to say about Peter? He wanted justice, needed justice, but would he get it if he turned Peter over to the Headmaster? Would he merely be expelled with a slap on the wrist and a warning never to do it again?

But if he said nothing, could he really bring himself to deliver justice? Could he make himself kill one of his best friends? Because no matter how beyond furious he'd been the night before, now in the light of a new day he saw that Sirius and Lily had been right, as usual. Killing Peter would not make anyone feel any better, least of all himself. Then again, Peter was the one who'd landed them all in this situation... James could have followed this cycle of thought around for hours, had the Headmaster not chosen that very moment to exit the curtains surrounding Lily's bed. He walked over to where James was sitting, James not looking up until the shadow the older wizard cast fell right in front of him.

"Ah, Mr Potter," Dumbledore remarked pleasantly once he'd finally attracted James's attention. "How are you?"

"Me? I'm fine, sir, just fine. It's Lily I'm worried about."

"And while that is very admirable, one must remember to worry about oneself once in a while. So, we shall try again. How are you, Mr Potter?"

"I..." James hadn't meant to, but the old Headmaster's fatherly attitude had burst the seals holding his mouth shut. "I don't know what to think, Professor. I mean... Lily was – Lily is one of the strongest people I've ever known, not counting Sirius, Remus and perhaps my dad. To see her like this... It just gets to me, you know? It makes me think, what if? What if everything just... fell apart? If all the strong people fell apart? What would happen to the world then?

"Not to even mention the fact that my scumbag so-called best mate is the reason for all of this..." James trailed off, clapping a hand to his mouth in a fashion that would have been almost comical in a different situation. Dumbledore almost smiled.

"It's quite all right, Mr Potter – Miss Evans has told me about Mr Pettigrew."

"She has?"

"Yes, just this morning. I must say, it's such a shame to see such a promising young boy to go that way... he could have gone far, yes, but now it's very doubtful. Acts like this tend to show more of a person's character than everything else they do combined. Yes, Mr Pettigrew could have gone far."

James, having helped Peter through many a Transfiguration (and History, and Charms, and Potions, and Arithmancy, and Astronomy) lesson, was inclined to disagree, but rather disinclined to do it out loud. So instead he asked, "What's going to happen to Peter?"

This time, Dumbledore actually smiled. "I knew we would get to that question eventually. Mr Pettigrew has been sent home, with a very clear request not to return after Christmas. A tutor will be arranged for him to pass his N.E.W.T.'s, if he so wishes. As for pressing charges, I believe that is down to Miss Evans."

James nodded, disheartened. Expulsion and possible charges? That was nothing – at least it seemed like nothing, so little in payment for the possible ruining of one, if not two lives.

"Ah, Mr Potter, I can see that something is troubling you. Do you not believe this is punishment enough?"

"I... no, I don't! He – he should go to Azkaban for life. Or die. Dying would be good. He should die for what he did to Lily."

"Calm down, Mr Potter, calm down. It hasn't yet been said that none of that is going to happen. Alas, I don't think the Ministry punishes rape by the death penalty, but if Miss Evans does decide to press charges, it is very possible that Mr Pettigrew may end up in Azkaban. Maybe not for life, but a few years at the very least.

"Also, James –" James looked up curiously at the use of his first name "– I know it's hard, but don't seek revenge by your own hand. Let the Ministry people deal with it. Miss Evans needs you, and you won't be of much use to her in Azkaban."

James gaped. "Why does everyone think I'm some kind of homicidal maniac?"

"Well, it may have something to do with the murderous gleam in your eyes whenever Mr Pettigrew is mentioned." Dumbledore chuckled.

"I don't – murderous gleam?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Well, Mr Potter, I'm afraid I have to get back to my office now. But I'm sure Miss Evans is waiting for you." Long robe sweeping the floor, the Headmaster exited the Hospital Wing with what James could have sworn was a knowing wink, were it not for the fact that age-old, wrinkly Headmasters didn't wink.

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Lily's head swam. It wasn't quite as bad as the day before – she had managed to stick a handle on the major panic, but her brain was constantly looking for exits, looking for weapons, in case she was jumped again. She was twitchy, starting at the slightest noises, and it bugged her to no end. She didn't want to be ready to attack her Headmaster when he came through the curtains. She didn't want to panic and squirm away when he so much as touched her. And most of all, she didn't want to make her best friend think she didn't trust him, since that would kill him and was also a great big lie. Which is why, as she heard the doors of the infirmary close, marking Dumbledore's exit, she forced herself to calm down, steeling herself for the knowledge that the curtains were about to open – but it was only going to be James, the one person she trusted over everyone else. Even if she did have to keep reminding herself of the fact.

It was as she was thinking all this over that the curtains finally did open, and James's head peeked in, looking around cautiously. She didn't jump, and this made her smile, bigger than she'd smiled all day. "Hey," she said, grimacing at the croak that made her sound like a massive smoker but that really only the result of all the millions of potions Madam Pomfrey had poured down her throat. James was almost instantly at her side with a glass of water poured from the pitcher on her bedside table. "Hey."

She took the water gratefully, drinking it all in one go. James stood by the side of her bed, watching her. She put the glass away, looking curiously at James. "Come on, sit down! I don't bite, you know."

"Really?" he teased, relaxing. "And here I was under the impression that that adorable smile of yours hid some mighty sharp teeth." His hand reached almost automatically for hers, and as they both laughed the awkwardness that had shrouded the first minute or so was gone.

"So, Lils," James said when the laughter died down. "How are you feeling?"

Lily groaned. "Don't ask me that! That's the first thing Dumbledore said when he came in, and Madam Pomfrey pops in to ask every three seconds! Can't I have a single conversation without someone enquiring about my feelings?"

"Uh, let me think about that, no. Because I know you aren't telling them the truth, plus Dumbledore just tricked me into a heart-to-heart with him, so you owe me one."

"Really? So you had a nice chat with Dumbledore about your feelings?" Lily giggled, and James looked at her crossly.

"Shush, Lily. One must remember to worry about oneself once in a while, remember that," he said, putting on a very Dumbledore-y voice and peering at Lily over the top of his glasses in true Dumbledore style.

"But I do!" she protested. "All I've done today is worry about myself. I swear. Madam Pomfrey? She's in here every two freaking minutes! I can't get a moment's peace, which I think is all I need, really. Also, I need to get out of this damn Hospital Wing, and apparently that's not happening until Sunday. Damn."

James held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, I won't care about your feelings! But hey – I will always be here. You can always talk to me. You know that, right?"

"Yes, James, I know." Lily smiled, looking at their clasped hands. "I know. And maybe one day I'll take you up on that. But not today, okay? Not today."

After seventeen years of living with his mother and six and a half of living with Lily, James knew when to stop. So he only said, "Fair enough," and went back to running his thumb across the back of Lily's hand.

They sat like that for a while, neither saying anything, taking comfort in the other's mere presence, until suddenly Lily started. "What time is it?" she asked, looking first in vain for her watch before remembering that it was locked away in a cupboard somewhere, who knows why.

"Er... just gone ten," James replied, peering at his. "Why?"

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Nah, I came straight here."

"James! You have to eat something." Lily shook her head as in disbelief.

"I can go down to the kitchens later, it's fine." James shrugged.

"But you have to pack today, you can't spend the whole day in the kitchens."

"Who said it'd take all day?"

"Past experience." And Lily's very pointed look.

"Ah. But it's fine, I can pack tonight. Don't worry, Lils, it'll be fine."

"Remember that you need to pack my stuff too, since that evil nurse isn't releasing me until straight to the train tomorrow." Lily sighed in obvious displeasure at the thought of someone else packing her stuff.

"I can do that tonight as well."

"James, come on, breakfast is the most important meal of the day! You can't just skip it. Seriously. Go! I'll still be here when you get back."

"I'm not going anywhere." James folded his arms across his chest. "I'm staying here, like it or not."

"Fine! But don't expect me to talk to you until you eat something." Lily folded her arms and looked the other way. Checkmate.

They kept it up for almost a minute, until James's stomach made a very loud, very protesting noise. Lily almost laughed, but then turned it into another pointed look. James threw up his hands. "Fine! I'll go eat, but I'll be back. I swear I will."

"Calm, James, calm! I'll be here." And so James resigned himself to leaving Lily alone again, even if it was only for the half-hour or so that it would take him to rush down, eat and rush back up.

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By the time James got down, the Great Hall was almost empty. Sirius, however, was still sitting at the Gryffindor table, half-heartedly reading some old Quidditch magazine, distractedly stroking an owl James recognised as Kenny. He was clearly waiting for someone, and looked up as soon as Kenny hooted in recognition, having seem James. He slid in opposite Sirius and stroked Kenny gently. "Hey, boy, back already?" The owl hooted softly, blinking up at James and offering up its right leg. The writing on the envelope was clearly that of his mother's. "Good boy, Kenny." James offered the owl some bread from a basket on the table, but the owl merely turned up its beak and flew off, presumably to the Owlery. This was when James finally looked up at Sirius.

"So, you're finally acknowledging me?" They both laughed.

"Shush, Sirius, you know Kenny comes first." More laughter.

"Don't worry, I know how you are with that owl. But anyway – how are you?"

James groaned. "What is it, National-Worry-About-James-When-We-Should-Be-Worrying-About-Lily-day? I'm perfectly fine, and I'm not even homicidal any more. Promise. Dumbledore talked me out of it."

"You talked to Dumbly? Today?"

"Yeah, he was visiting Lily when I went there."

"So what'd he say to you, if you're no longer murderous?"

"Oh, you know, the same things you and Lily said, just in a very Headmaster-y tone."

"Screw you," Sirius laughed, but he was relieved that James was no longer itching to kill Peter. "So, you gonna open that letter or what?"

"Mm? Oh! Letter. Yes." He fished out the letter from where it was already buried in owl feathers and other breakfast paraphernalia. Finally opening it, he unfolded the small square of parchment.

James –

my God, I can't believe that happened at Hogwarts. Where was Dumbledore? But never mind, we can talk about that tomorrow.

Merlin, poor Lily. I'm so glad she isn't alone – you stick by her now, you hear me?

Don't you dare leave her alone, James Harold Potter. Of course I'll be at the station. Oh, dear, dear, dear. Stay with her. She'll be safe with us.

See you tomorrow,

Mum

His mother's letter, which were normally quite coherent, was flustered and all over the place, telling James clearer than her words ever could just how shaken even she was, never mind that the full effects of it had yet to reach her. And yet, flustered as she was, James was beyond glad that she would be meeting them at the station, because he was convinced that Lily had a real, fully-fledged breakdown was on the way, and he wanted his mother present when it happened. No matter how close he was to Lily, he couldn't handle that by himself. Lily couldn't handle it with only the two of them (three, if you count Sirius, which James didn't, at the moment).

"What'd she say?" Sirius asked, trying to peer upside down at Elizabeth Potter's tiny poet's handwriting and obviously failing.

"She's coming to the station tomorrow. And to not leave Lily alone."

"Mm. By the way, I had this idea – I think we should give her the cloak for the train..."

"The cloak... She'll never agree to that, Padfoot, you know that. She's Lily Evans – she's going to want to walk down to Hogsmeade with her head held high, and if we let her, that's exactly what she'll do."

"Exactly – if we let her. Prongs, come on – you can convince her that wearing the cloak's what's best for her. She'll listen to you, you know that. It might take some time, but she will."

James pretended to think about it for a while, but they both knew Sirius was right. "Ah, fine. I'll go tell her in a minute." But first he wanted to finish eating his breakfast, because no matter what he'd told Lily, he was hungry. Very much so.

And there we are again. This chapter will forever be known to me as the paper bag chapter, considering I outlined it completely on a white paper bag I bought postcards in.

I really liked writing Dumbledore, by the way :D it was a challenge.

Also, you know how there's no law that requires me to update real fast, but I try to do it anyway, cause it makes you all happy? Well, there's no law requiring you to review either, but... you know ;)

Alsoo... it's not a cliffhanger this time :P yay!