CHAPTER TWENTY: Damage Control

9:45 am. Day Two Hundred and Sixty-Six of official employment. Current mood: in a state of self-reproach.

It had been a long, long time since Lily had done this.

The Monday morning sunlight streamed through her office's plate-glass windows in rays of yellow spreading across her desk, picking up every speck of dust and hint of a double-strength skim mocha cappuccino stain on the aged timber. Lily sat low in her executive chair, hidden from sight behind two giant piles of tabloids. This whole concept of nine-to-five office work felt very odd to her. She had almost forgotten what a normal job consisted of; in fact, she quickly found her attention span shorter and her mind wandering. How on earth did Muggles survive bland office jobs like this? How did anyone manage a job that didn't involve the daily pick through gossip columns? How did she handle being a publicist before all the drama kept her out of the office? She shook her head and flipped open the latest issue of An Era to spy the headline that had captured her interest; Two Seasons Too Long; Puddlemere United in Line for a New Captain.

This was herfault. There was no denying that. It was she who had manipulated James into attending her father's funeral, missing the biggest Quidditch match of the season in the process. In her grief, or perhaps selfishness, she hadn't considered the ramifications of such a simple act, a serious fault on her publicist part. And these ramifications did not come – thankfully – in the form of unemployment. Instead they came in the form of articles about Puddlemere. Specifically, the team's need for a new leader.

A metallic twang echoed as James threw his copy of Quidditch Today into the bin. Lily caught a grimace flash on his face. James had taken this hideous media frenzy over his captainship surprisingly well, although she did suspect that it hurt him more than he let on. Lily circled the headline and placed it carefully atop the rightmost pile – the slightly larger one – to read the accompanying insults later. The next week was completely damage control. James had a press conference tomorrow in the grand final lead-up, then an exclusive interview with The Daily Prophet discussing his place in the Puddlemere team next season. Wednesday, an autograph signing session. Thursday, a meeting with Coach for Lily. Friday night however was the night she dreaded the most; damage control at a dinner with Maria and Patrick Potter. She had a feeling that would be the toughest one.

"I should have known the editor-in-chief was a Puddlemere fan." She said, trying to lighten the mood. James peered over the top of last week's The Official Nimbus Magazine to sight the tabloid she referred to. He chuckled.

"Nah, Walter probably just had money on me flogging Baxter with a Bludger." He said this with complete ease, which made Lily's lips turn to a smile. Only a Puddlemere fan! She tossed the newspaper she flicked through – which presented no new news – to the bin, where it bounced off the rim and onto the floor. James didn't bother to hide his amusement at her terrible aim, laughing in an almost patronising way. Lily ignored him, but allowed her smile to stay.

"I'm sorry James; I should have known that the media would tear you apart for missing the semis. It was basic Publicity 101." Her apology was really months overdue. James had suffered weeks of the worst torture the press could offer him; publishing every single one of those horrible photos of him partying, taken during Alison's time, one by one. Yet, to her amazement, he held no qualms about this. Interestingly, he seemed almost nostalgic about those days.

"It's no worse than it would have been if I had been there at a losing match." James replied, bored and blasé about the tabloids by now. He stood from his chair and rounded the antique desk toward Lily. She paused in her highlighting to watch him loom over her, braced by one hand on the seatback and one on the armrest. Her eyebrow raised as his hazel eyes locked onto hers, "You know...sometimes...there are more important things to me than just a one million seat Quidditch stadium packed with fans wanting to witness the greatest semi-final-slash-grudge match of the century. A damsel in distress...needing a knight in shining armour..." Lily didn't shift her gaze from him, utterly frozen, her arm still in midair grasping for another tabloid. James stopped also, and then leaned in, his lips so dangerously close. Lily closed her eyes, "But you can't tell anyone that I said that."

Her eyes shot open once again to find him denying her her kiss, putting on a cocky smile and he grabbing the journal she had been stretching for. He swaggered back to his chair, very pleased with himself. Lily resisted the urge to hit him as he did so. Instead, she chose a less violent action and grabbed the next tabloid on the stack, which was slowly decreasing in size. It was not a tabloid as much as it were a form guide, for Quidditch fans to place their bets on local and worldwide games. Unsurprisingly, page three was dedicated to the British and Irish League Cup.

"Huh. It the grand final should be pretty exciting. 20-1 odds on a Harpie win." James evidently couldn't pick if Lily was serious or merely teasing him, sparking another grin to broaden on her face. But to keep up her mock seriousness, she kept her lips set firmly in a straight line and her eyes devoid of any hint for either way.

An astute knock on the office door caused Lily to jump and effectively ended her charade. She turned towards the source of the noise in her chair, perturbed. She never got visitors to the office.

"Yes?"It was rather old-fashioned, calling out to her guest like this, but whoever it was was unfazed by this and the heavy wooden door began to open. Both Lily and James, out of sheer habit, immediately sat up in their chairs, as to appear like they had been doing actual work. But their worries were not realised as they recognised the figure in the doorway.

"Oh. Alison." Lily greeted, her face falling. Alison Baxter appeared rather nostalgic as she took a single step into her former office, eyeing off every detail. No doubt, what had changed in her absence.

"Lily."A somewhat uncomfortable smile accompanied her acknowledgement, "James." An awkward silence followed. Too much had happened between those in the room for any other sort to occur. Lily studied the newcomer's expression, but found herself empty-handed. Alison showed no clear emotion, which meant only one thing. Alison was here for business.

"What do you want?" Normally, she would have attempted to be a little more hospitable, but Alison's visit seemed more like an invasion of privacy than a business meeting...or whatever it was.

"May I come in?" At this, Lily glanced at James for his opinion. When it came to Alison, the both of them were best to be involved. He shrugged, and Lily read his meaning. Alison surely could do very little damage – if any - alone, without a press team nearby. There was no reason to deny her. But it was grudgingly that Lily flicked her wand and removed the piles of magazines to the bureau across the room and the rubbish bin under the desk. She failed to conjure a chair for their guest. Either having expected this welcome or being unflustered by it, Alison teetered across the carpet in her eight-inch turquoise dragonshide heels to stand before the desk, clutching her similarly coloured briefcase. (Lily discreetly tucked her bare feet away.) Closer up, she looked almost...exhausted.

"I won't waste time on small talk, Lily." She said, although it was clear from the way she stood, she was addressing the both of them; "I need a favour."

There was the sound of a stumble, the legs of a wooden chair as ancient as the desk Lily sat at scraping against the floor. James had slipped off his seat. Lily, too, could not hide her surprise, try as she might. Again, Alison must have forseen this, and was unfazed.

"A favour?" Lily repeated, still not believing her ears. Alison persisted, slowly selecting her prose.

"I really don't know how to ask you this. But I do assume you've heard." She nodded toward the bureau, causing Lily to follow her gaze and only seeing the piles of tabloids that she had yet to properly read. Had she missed something? Alison continued, answering her own question,"I guess not, then." Her lips pursed, clearly considering her next words with extreme care, "I'm in some legal trouble. It's regarding a Disapparation during my wedding reception. In front of a Muggle."

Once more, Lily instinctively looked to James for further information, but he shared the same puzzled expression as she. She deliberated over Alison's predicament. This "legal trouble" sounded far too familiar. Lily felt- she knew – that she had heard of this before. But, where? And then it clicked. Bianca Nolles' article, the exclusive scoop about Alison's wedding. Part of Lily wanted to take offence to this, that Alison had come to Lily of all people about legal trouble, but her mind implored her to play nicely.

"If you want me to suggest legal representation, I-" Alison cut across her,

"No. I've already got someone." Alison met James' eyes, clearly a mutual understanding of this 'someone', "Remus is actually why I'm here. As part of my defence, I need to prove that the Muggle in question – my sister – was not affected by the Diapparation." Her gaze moved from James to Lily, an obviously significant movement, but Lily did not comprehend the significance of her words. This must have shown."I need someone to speak at my hearing, to state that Gemma was too distracted by their conversation to notice a Disapparation." Another long pause followed.

"And you want me to?" Lily questioned.

"The both of you; two witness statements are always better than one. Your track record isn't brilliant, Lily, but the Wizengamot requires a statement and-"

"You need James and I to lie to the Wizengamot, risking our necks in doing so, to help you avoid Azkaban?" she finished, her tone dubious. Now, the rare visitor too was surprised, but unlike Lily, she regained control quickly in both tone and demeanour.

"You won't be lying. You and James were talking to Gemma during the reception. You and James were at the reception for its entirety. Now, given the length of the reception, the number of people attending, the amount of noise and activity, neither of you nor Gemma noticed that Bianca Nolles... slipped out." She ended with her classic smile, which set Lily's teeth on edge, but not because of what she was saying. In the months between the charity match and the grand wedding, Lily had gradually played down the traits of her rival in her mind. She had, despite herself, forgotten the one trait that made Alison such a brilliant publicist, why she was so highly regarded. Manipulation. To use a Muggle expression, she had it down to a T. But two could play at this game. Lily cleared her throat.

"And if we couldn't...honour...this favour?" She was in her element, for this was now a standard discussion with Mrs. Alison Baxter. No one said what they really meant.

"You have to!" Alison's exclamation and sudden show of emotion surprised Lily, although she readily composed herself,"I mean...you're my best hope. Please. Lily, James, I am begging you. They're going to erase her memory. Gemma will have no memory of my wedding." Now that Lily could read her hand, Alison Baxter really was exhausted, she really was desperate. Lily knew – anyone knew – that Alison had put her whole self into her big day, especially making it Muggle-friendly for her family. What had irked Lily then (and still) was the fact she would have done the same. It was this that made her decision, at least until, "I mean, wouldn't you do this for Petunia?"

Lily did not know and she did not care how Alison knew of Petunia, but the damage was done. She almost laughed at herself; the mere thought that she was just about to help Alison Baxter was now ridiculous. Possible acceptance was out the window. However, James' face turned stony, having noted her obvious irritation after he recovered from his almost-fall.

"Lily." He warned. At this, her blood turned cold, the same way one's would when they had been caught doing something wrong. She couldn't pick why this happened. James then stood to face Alison, standing eight inches shorter than her in due to those absurd shoes. He donned his most charming smile another time and replied, "We'll do it."

Alison must have thought it would be harder to convince them, given the eyebrow raise James then received. Lily didn't blame her for being so shocked. She had not expected to be saving her arch enemy from Azkaban when she woke up this morning. Nonetheless, Alison too smiled, self-satisfactorily, and nodded in gratitude before turning to leave.

"I'll owl you the details this afternoon." Lily finally regained control of her speech, sighting Alison walking out knowing that she had won,

"Just so we're clear, Alison," She too stood, ignoring how Alison stared down at her, and moved to appear as though she was walking a friend out. But this was far from a friendly gesture,"This is the last favour you will ask of us." By now, James had joined them, and the trio stood in the doorway, swapping glares hidden behind tight lips drawn into minute smiles. A pokerface, a Muggle would call it. Lily grabbed the door handle, so if one were to pass by, it would appear she was merely showing Alison out. But this gesture in fact stopped Alison from leaving,"I am growing wary of these little favours you ask of me. This shall be the last time that you can count on me to...uh..."help you out"."

As per usual, Alison showed no indication of astonishment at this term. She expected it, no doubt, in return for their statements, as part of this deal.

"Of course." she answered. Another fake smile."I will miss our little chats." Lily nodded and removed her hand from the doorknob, allowing Alison Baxter exit. Without another word, she stepped into the foyer and then disappeared with a loud crack. The remaining two stood in the doorway for some time, reflecting on what had just happened.

"I think we just signed a peace treaty, James."

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

Hello again. I know that it's a short chapter, but it's an important one nonetheless. 21 is shaping up to be pretty big for our favourite Quidditch player and publicist.

Thank you so much for all your support, and remember that constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Until next time,

-xSymnia