Sirius's early morning walk from the shrieking shack back to the castle through the tunnel at the base of the willow tree had done little to improve his mood. Before he'd set off, he'd taken the cloak Narcissa Black had left on the lakeshore out of Peter's hands. He held it now by one corner, dragging it behind himself as he strode across the Entrance Hall to the Slytherin stairwell, looking for his cousin.

His glare swept the hall, where students of every house were leaving breakfast, a few stragglers rushing in late. He had no clear plan of how to get into the Slytherin dungeon, but he wouldn't need one. Ahead of him, his head down as he read a book, was Regulus.

Sirius caught his brother's wrist, the left one, just below that mark, just above the pocket where he stashed his wand. With a twist Sirius pulled it up, hard, behind Regulus's back.

"Get off me! What is the matter with you?"

"I need to talk to Narcissa," Sirius hissed at him. "And either you can go into your dorm and bring her out, or I can march you in there like this and find her."

"You don't even know for sure she's there," Regulus answered through gritted teeth.

"Go look, or we'll bring Slytherin's two hundred years of no outsiders in the dorm to an end right now."

Regulus scoffed. "I've seen your map. I know you've already been in there."

"Yeah, but they don't," Sirius said, nodding at a pack of Slytherins hurrying by with their eyes averted, well-trained in ignoring family spats. "Now get Narcissa. I have something of hers that needs returning."

"I'll take it," said an imperious voice. Arriving beside them was Severus Snape.

"Move along, Snape," Sirius said. "This is a family matter."

"Yes, most heart-warming."

"I don't expect you to understand," Sirius said, which might have been the cruelest answer he could have given.

Regulus barked a loud, pained laugh. "Severus is more my brother now than you are."

Sirius pulled his wrist higher as Regulus yelped. "Ah, yes. You're brothers in arms now," Sirius said. "Well, I don't see your new brother laying hands on me to save you. But I bet you can guess what I'd do if I saw him roughing up you."

Regulus scoffed again, less convincingly. "Shut it, Sirius. Let go before I - "

"What in the stars is going on here, you ignorant animals?" It was Narcissa herself, speaking angrily through a clenched jaw, storming over to intervene, to save face for the Black family.

Sirius let go of Regulus, leaving him rubbing his shoulder and muttering swears. Sirius pivoted away from him. "Just looking for you, coz. Hoping to return something of yours." Still holding the cloak with two fingers, dangling the dirty length of fabric in front of her, its pale green silk lining now tattered and grey.

She frowned at it. "That's not - " she began before she recognized the silver stitching on the Black family crest. Without a word, she snatched it from Sirius, her white face flushing pink.

Sirius clapped his hands, just once. "Now, Narcissa, let's have a word. Some privacy, Snape, if you please."

"I'm staying," he said.

Sirius nodded. "Very well, then. Shall I go ahead and say it with everyone listening, Cissa? I'm sure it's a fascinating story, how that fine cloak of yours ended up in the Forbidden Forest last night."

"Stop your nonsense," she said. "It's alright Severus, Regulus. I'm not afraid of this pathetic little boy."

As the others left, Narcissa and Sirius rounded on each other, their heads close together, both of them furious. "What were you doing in the forest last night?" they demanded of one another in unison.

Narcissa tossed her head. "I'll go first, since I've nothing to hide. I was walking by the lake and must have left my cloak behind in a hurry. There was some odd howling and it spooked me. I assume that's where you found it, while you were out doing stars know what with stars know who."

Sirius grinned. "That is where I found it, actually. And technically, you've told me no lies. Very good. Cunning, like they say. But there's someone else in your story, isn't there. Someone who always tells me the whole truth."

Her eyes narrowed and her brow drew itself down. "I didn't see a single person in the woods last night."

"Better and better," Sirius smirked. "Yes, you didn't see a person. You saw Moony."

She gave it up. "I didn't have much of a choice, did I. He found me and grabbed me. Look at my arm."

She flung her arm between them, showing where Moony had scratched her.

Sirius sucked in a breath. "That's a scratch from Moony? From just hours ago?"

She nodded, covering it with her sleeve again, unable to go so far as to accuse him. "It was an accident. But still…"

Sirius tapped a finger against his jaw. "For one of Moony's, that is much too neat of a scratch. I've had enough of them in my time to know what they're like. And there is no possible way it should look that good already. It's practically healed."

"Rubbish."

"Either one of two things is true," he went on, ignoring her protest. "Either that is an old wound from something other than Moony, or else he treated it for you, in that special way of his. Otherwise, it wouldn't have healed so soon. And that means, you must have let him…"

Narcissa folded her arms and leaned closer into Sirius's face. "However it happened, I am through answering to you for it. If Lupin himself wants to talk about it, he only needs to ask me - "

"No," Sirius interrupted. "No, no, no. You are not talking to Remus anymore. And you are definitely not seeing Moony ever again - "

"That is not for you to decide."

"Maybe not," Sirius said, their faces almost touching now. "But if I ever find out you've been with him again, alone, either as Remus or Moony, as yourself or as some slaggy creature version of yourself, I will owl a letter to Malfoy Manor and tell them everything."

Her expression was blank, unfazed, but Sirius sensed a slight wobble in her defiant stance. "You think you can threaten me by undoing an arranged marriage I've never cared for?"

Sirius tossed his head, laughing. "I know you better than that, coz. You might not care for Malfoy himself, but you know what his family's like. If they have to make a public break of the betrothal, they'll be sure everyone knows why. They'll be sure the entire pureblood movement knows you've been consorting with a werewolf - "

"Consorting? You filthy - we never - "

"Close enough for them," he snapped. "They won't care about the details of who licked what and why. Just hearing you've gone and made Moony mad for you will be more than enough for Bella to never speak to you again, and my mother, maybe your own mother too - all of them. Your entire society, turning against you. Don't act like this is all about whether you get to be Madam Malfoy. It's about whether your loved ones will let you stay in their lives. They are ruthless when it comes to breaches like this. Believe me."

She was shaking her head, hardly hearing him. "I've gone and made Moony - what?"

"Consider yourself warned," Sirius said, retreating. "Stay away from him. For good."

Narcissa stood in the Entrance Hall, watching Sirius vault up the stairs, out of sight. Her ruined cloak lay at her feet. Her heart beat in her throat, and not at the threat of a public disgrace.

Moony was mad for her. That was what Sirius had said. What did that mean? And what would become of her now that she knew it?

The door to the Head Boy/Girl office was closed as Lily Evans sat in James Potters' lap, her head on his shoulder. He was telling her about the night he and the lads had spent chasing after Moony, and what they'd found at the end of it.

"It's almost romantic, isn't it?" Lily said, her hand pressed flat against James's opening and closing their fingers, like images in a mirror. "I mean, it would be if it wasn't Narcissa."

"Yeah, rotten luck, that," James agreed. "Just like Remus to have it be a girl who's already engaged, and to a Death Eater. So that'll be the end of it. Good thing that lot takes their engagements so seriously."

"As opposed to who?" Lily teased, burrowing her face into his already loosened collar.

"Not to me," he said, tipping his head back and lacing their fingers, holding tightly to her hand. "I take my own engagement extremely seriously. Impossibly seriously. Infinitely seriously."

She laughed against his skin, sitting back with a parting nip. "Do you think they're soulmates? Not Remus and Narcissa, of course, but Moony and his Veela?"

James hummed, considering it.

"I mean," she said, "you know more about magical creatures than I do. Can they be right for each other somehow, as creatures, when their human selves are clearly so wrong?"

James groaned. "Sounds like Veela mate mythology."

"I know, I know," she rushed to say. "Those old stories about Veela's having only one magically determined mate were just a ploy to bind them up in safe, divorce-proof marriages. It's male chauvinist rubbish. But apart from all that, there is the question of how different someone's creature-self is from their human self."

James shifted beneath her. "Well, with me and Prongs, I can't imagine him chasing after someone I didn't like. But Prongs isn't a curse for me. I made him. I decide when he comes and goes. I have full agency over him."

Lily scoffed. "Full agency? Right."

"What?" he said.

She folded her arms across her middle. "Just today, you got back in the morning, less than an hour after being Prongs all night, and you charged at me without so much as a hello, pawing at me in the common room, in front of everyone, with enough clumsy vigor to untuck my shirt and just about knock me over. It's a good thing there was a wall at my back."

James winced. "I did do that."

"Yes, you did," she said. "Even though you're usually very polite and discreet in front of the students. And on top of that, I don't know if you've noticed, but I've pulled your hand out from underneath the hem of my skirt twice already this afternoon."

"Oh," he said, blushing, smoothing the fabric over her knee, as if sealing her inside.

"You see, post-Prongs James is more forward than typical James, less inhibited," she said. "More ruled by his animal drives."

"Sorry," he said.

She turned in the chair, her knees still together but her front pressed more squarely to his. "Don't be sorry, just wary - for now, at any rate. I look forward to finding out everything post-Prongs, uninhibited James has to offer me, someday soon."

"Don't try me, Evans," he all but moaned into her face.

"Not in this chastity charmed room, I won't," she said, leaning slightly away.

He bowed his head against her shoulder, grazing it with his teeth through the fabric of her shirt as he did.

"Maybe we're the perfect couple to do some experimenting on questions of creature mates versus soulmates," Lily said. "All you have to do, is help me become an animagus - "

"No," James said. "It's messy and dangerous."

She gasped, as if offended. "How can you tell me no? I don't NEED your help."

"I know, but - "

"I just thought it would be nice. And not too difficult for you, since you've already taught Peter. How bad can it be after that?"

"Exactly," James said, his hand cupping her knee and pulling her close, as if to protect her. "We learned a lot of hard lessons while we were training. And we did permanent damage to our bodies in the process. I don't want that for you. Please don't do it."

James was hoping to dismiss the subject, but her interest was piqued. Her hands were roving over his shoulders and chest, his neck and face. "Permanent damage? You're damaged? How is my husband damaged? I need to know."

He sighed rather miserably. "Give me your hand." He pressed her fingers to his skull. "It was the antlers. The second time I succeeded in the transformation, we couldn't get one of them to change back for hours. There's still a stub there. You feel it?"

She did. Most of the time when her hands were in his hair, it was on the sides and back. But there, on the top of his head, was a bump where the stubborn antler had been.

"I was ready to nick a hacksaw from Filch and cut it off when Sirius finally got it to disappear. If I ever go bald, I'm going to look freakish," he said.

She couldn't help but snicker. "Oh, my poor darling," she said. She took his head in her hands, tipped it forward, and kissed the bump. "Well, this explains the long, unruly hair."

"Yeah, it's camouflage," he said, fingering the spot where she'd kissed him, able to smile about the antler fiasco for the first time in his life. "Sirius was lucky. He eventually outgrew his damage, but that beard he had all winter during sixth year? It was involuntary. It would grow back within an hour of shaving. And that was just the extra hair growth that could be seen with his clothes on. Our shower drain was a nightmare."

Lily was laughing in spite of herself again. "Marlene loved that beard. Oh my stars. So what happened to Peter?"

James cleared his throat and shifted underneath her again. "That was actually horrifying. He got stalled partly transformed. He was about the size of a fox only with a long pink rat tail. The worst of it was his face. It was too much like his human face to be stuck on an animal. Absolutely uncanny. It took all three of us coordinating a reversal spell and repeating it seven times with hardly a breath in between to bring him back. I didn't think he'd ever have the nerve to turn into Wormtail again. Proud of him for putting it behind him, really. Poor old chap. But I think his damage is in his brain. His mannerisms changed after that day. That thing he does with his fingers, where he holds his hands up and pinches at nothing. It's clearly ratty, even when he's not a rat."

Lily felt a shudder run through his body.

"Anyway," he said, "I know you're ten times better at transfiguration than Pete, and you'd probably come out as a lovely doe for Prongs to adore, but I'd still rather we not risk permanent damage just to see if we'd still want to date in deer form. This is plenty good." He kissed her before she could begin to argue. "And what if that randy Prongs got Doe-Lily pregnant, and then our chosen one turned out to be a sweet but useless deer. What would Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix have to say about that?"

"Shut up," she laughed into his mouth. "Useless - what a thing to say about our son."

"I wonder," he said, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of her skirt again, "where the chastity charm kicks in for this room. Is it here?" His hand had crept along her leg, until it was up to the knuckles beneath her skirt.

"Is this uninhibited Prongs's doing?" she said, breathless against his lips.

"No, this is all James." he said as he slunk slightly higher, his entire hand disappearing to the wrist under the stiff, grey woolen fabric.

She swallowed hard, not noticing how tightly she was clinging to his neck, as if to keep herself from drowning. "No alarms yet," she said.

"No, but this must be close to tripping it," he said, his fingers flexing, moving against the smooth, warm skin of her thigh, his breath quick but heavy. "It's got to be - "

"Miss Evans…"

Lily sprang to her feet, smoothing her skirt as Professor McGonagall pushed the door open, like a chastity charm in human form letting herself into their office.

"Yes, Professor!"

McGonagall was slightly taken aback. "There's no need to shout, Miss Evans. Look at poor Mr. Potter's face. You've scared him out of his wits. Calm down, Potter. Don't get up on my account. Take all the time you need."

Lily stumbled and sputtered around the room, offering her professor chairs and tea.

"No, we shan't be staying long," she said. "I am sent by the headmaster to send you to visit your parents in advance of the wedding."

"Oh, has Professor Dumbledore decided when it will be then?" Lily asked.

"No, this business with your parents must come first," McGonagall said. "It may affect the wedding plans. Miss Evans, your birthday is tomorrow. Celebrate it at home. You may inform your parents about the wedding or you may choose not to. It is completely in your hands."

She turned to James. "And afterwards, go to the Potters' manor and let them know. Whether you choose to include your parents, Mr. Potter, is also up to you, but neither of you should be married without seeing them one last time as their children."

James was standing up now. "My parents will be available tomorrow. They always are, but Mitch Evans - "

"Has already been notified by the school that you are coming and will be available to you all evening." She held her mouth in a tight but not unhappy heart shape. "You've done well with him so far, Potter. He appears to like you." She lifted a stack of parchments from the desk and batted him on the head with it. "See that you don't do anything stupid to dissuade him."

There was a sharp, persistent rapping on the door of the prefects' office. It was almost curfew and the rest of the prefects were patrolling while Remus Lupin who, everyone agreed, was looking awfully peaky this evening, had been left to mind the office.

He's pallid complexion was suddenly florid when he opened the door and found Narcissa Black waiting on the other side. He did nothing to hide his cringing. "Curfew is in five minutes, Black. You shouldn't be here so late."

Her arms were folded across her middle, her head was cocked to one side, provoking him. "I need to report an incident of violence between two students. I witnessed it this morning."

Remus gave a long sigh, sat heavily behind the desk, and drew the pad of blank incident report parchments toward himself. "This morning?"

"Yes, as breakfast was ending. I was particularly hungry this morning - "

"Where did it happen?

"In the Entrance Hall."

"And could you identify the students involved?"

"Of course. They were my cousins."

Remus let his quill drop on the paper. "What are you playing at?"

"Nothing. I came here looking for reassurance that my young cousin Regulus wouldn't be bullied at school by this brother any longer, and I expect you to launch a fair, unbiased investigation."

Remus sat back, rubbing his face with his palms. "No, you didn't come here expecting that at all."

She planted her hands on the desktop and leaned over it. "Investigate it, Lupin. Ask me. Wouldn't you like to know why the entire Hogwarts Black family was rowing in public today? Haven't you heard it from Sirius?"

"No," he said. "If Regulus wants to make a complaint himself - "

She hit the desktop with one hand. "No. You need to know that Sirius sought us out to order me - to threaten me - that I must never speak to you again."

"He sought - what?"

"Your best friend told me that if I ever speak to you again, he'll explode my future by telling the Malfoys I've been consorting with a werewolf."

"Consorting?" Remus echoed. "That makes it sound like - but we didn't do anything - we hardly - "

"Oh please, Lupin," she said, sitting on a corner of the desk. "You grabbed me and licked my arm and carried me through the woods while I held onto your shoulder with my teeth. Not to mention you weren't wearing any clothes the entire time - "

"Will you please, stop," he said, kneading his shoulder.

"Ah, so you remember now, do you?" She stood up, moving behind the desk, next to him. "How's the shoulder? Is there a mark?"

With another massive sigh, Remus loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar, and tugged it aside to look at the place where the Veela had gripped Moony with her teeth. He wasn't expecting what he saw and swore at the sight. "What did you do?"

She flew at him, scooting to stand directly in front of him, between his knees behind the desk, pushing his hand aside, pulling at his clothing as he uttered strangled nonverbal protests. His skin was marked with a purple bruise and within it, two small punctures.

She hissed. "I was worried it might be like this. I'm sorry. Honestly, I didn't mean to break the skin with those fangs. But you were moving about so wildly - "

"I said, stop talking about it."

"Hold it like that," she said, reaching into her robes. "I've brought something with me, a balm to keep it from scarring. I didn't mean to maim you, and stars know I never want anyone identifying my teeth marks in your skin." She twisted a stopper from a small, flat canister and scooped a dollop of thick, greasy-looking paste onto her fingertips. "It won't hurt," she said.

The balm was cold, and he shivered as she touched him. "What is it, exactly?"

"Nothing much," she answered. "Complexion Perfexion is what it's called. If you had more witches in your life, you'd already know about it." She dabbed it lightly onto his bared shoulder before working it in with firmer pressure, warming it with her touch. His shoulders were thinner than Moony's, but still ropey with lean muscle, tense as she worked them. She cleared her throat.

Remus bit his lip. He had turned his face as far from her hand as he could, eyes shut tight. His fingertips pricked with an urge to grab her, his throat ached around a silent howl. He checked his hand. No extra hair growth, no fingernails lengthening into claws. He wasn't transforming, but he felt Moony all the same, close, alive inside him, reaching out to her whether she looked like a Veela at the moment or not. A sound rumbled in his throat, but he mastered it, forcing it into words.

"That should do it," he said.

She was withdrawing her hand, but moving slowly, curving her fingers over the taut tendons in his neck, finding her way to the hollow between his collarbones, where his pulse beat hard and fast in his throat.

"You know," she said, her own heart drumming as she lifted her hand and turned her face up to look at him, her eyes so blue they were icy white. "Maybe it's not too late to try this balm on some of your other scars. What could it hurt?"

Her fingers were drifting up, toward the marks on his face when Remus caught them and folded his hand around hers.

She interrupted as he began to speak. "Did you send him? Was it really you who sent Sirius to tell me never to talk to you again?"

She sounded almost hurt. There was a slight tremor in Remus's otherwise strong jaw as he looked back at her, his thumb passing over the large emerald of Lucius Malfoy's engagement ring as he lowered their joined hands and let hers go. "Sirius may have been brutal to Regulus today, and rude to you, and out of line to speak for me. But he wasn't wrong. You and I need to leave each other alone from now on."

"That won't do," Narcissa said, simply and with finality. "There's more I need to know from you, about my Veela form. We know you can see me when you're transformed. But what if you're not transformed? Can you still see me if you're not Moony but Lupin?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't help you with this. Think of it. What if your transformation triggers my own? What if you were to transform right now and all the sudden we had Moony loose in the castle? I'd wind up killing someone, and ultimately, being killed myself to put an end to the rampage."

She took a deep breath, and sank back to sit on the desk in front of him. "There must be some way for us to do it safely, responsibly. That house Moony brought me to - could we do it there?"

"No," he said, pulling her to her feet again. "This is the end of it. You know you are indeed a Veela, and now you can find your peace with it and carry on."

"My peace with it?" she said as he pushed her shoulders from behind, walking her toward the door. "What about Moony's peace with it?"

"Moony is completely uninterested in peace, and in you."

"Is he?" she said as Remus reached for the doorknob. "Sirius told me Moony is mad for me."

The words left Remus's hand hanging in mid-air, partway to the doorknob.

"He didn't mean to say it," she resumed. "I'm not sure even now that Sirius realizes he did say it. But he certainly did. Do you deny it?"

Remus's hand was shaking, rattling the doorknob as he tried to twist it open. "Moony is a lunatic. He's mad for everything."

"Quiet, Lupin," she said, speaking to him over her shoulder as he reached around her, closing her hand over his on the doorknob, stopping his shaking. "I will tell you this, and then I'll go. I want Moony to know that I know he likes me. And that - I'm - fascinated by it."

Remus's face was white, his scars standing out more than ever. He shook his head. "Don't look for him again. I won't let him out. I'll keep him locked in that house next full-moon - every full-moon until school is over and you're safe in Malfoy Manor."

"Then I'll go to that house by Floo," she said, still gripping his hand.

"It's an exit-only Floo. You won't get in. Forget it, Narcissa."

She turned around, her face in his as he bent to open the door. They were close again, not the way they'd been the night before, but in something reminiscent of it, close enough that her voice fell to a husky whisper as she said, "He won't hurt me."

They stood still for a moment, eye to eye, near enough to feel the rush of each other's breath. Remus's eyes moved over her face, her eyes, the mouth that looked far too delicate to have marked him. He made one last lunge forward, twisting hard to the doorknob behind her, the latch clicking free. Her mouth had opened as he moved, in surprise, perhaps, or to speak, or for something else entirely.

"This," he said pushing the door open, "is what too few people understand about Moony. Yes, he must be kept from hurting other people. But what his friends are most afraid of him hurting is himself. Anyone who doesn't understand that is no friend of his."

Hands on her shoulders again, he spun her around and shoved her into the corridor outside, alone.

Dinner in Cokeworth was more pleasant than Lily and James had expected - almost eerily so. In spite of Vernon's dour demeanor, Mitch was as friendly as ever, joining James in cajoling Lily to let James buy her a broom so she could float with her father around the streets after dark, scaring all the drunks straight.

The manners of Cheryl and Petunia were extremely nice, verging on sweet - too nice, even for a birthday. The effect was unsettling. Something was wrong but Lily wasn't sure what. Cheryl had cooked a lasagna, a favourite of Lily's. Petunia had baked a birthday cake and decorated it like one she'd seen in a magazine. It was the prettiest cake Lily had ever seen up close.

After dinner, Lily was forbidden to help with the washing up, and sat in the lounge in front of the television with James and her father as Mitch explained the rules of the rugby match they were watching.

Eventually, Cheryl called her upstairs to see Petunia's wedding dress. Lily sat on her parents' bed as Petty stepped out of the bathroom in a floor length white dress with a tiered skirt and a ruffle across the bust and shoulders, a peasant, country style that had been popular long enough to be positively normal. It was topped off by a wide brimmed sun hat.

"Oh Petty, you look like an angel," Lily said, making a slow walk around her.

Petunia smiled and nodded. "You have to imagine it with the flowers. I was thinking of carrying lilies. Petunias are no good for bouquets."

Lily gasped out a little sob. "I'd be honored. Thank you, Petty."

"Yes, well," she said, fingering her hat as if she was nervous, or maybe just modest. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it," Lily said. "All of it. I can't wait to stand up there beside you. What have you chosen for my dress?"

Cheryl caught Lily's hand and pulled her to sit on the bed. "That's the thing, love," she began. "After the posh proposal and ring, it's going to be a small wedding, with just one bridesmaid. And - ah, you finish the rest, Petunia."

"We're going with Vernon's sister Marge," Petunia said, fast, as if tearing off a plaster. "When you come down to it, she's equally family to us. And what's more, we can be sure that with Marge, there won't be any - well nothing out of the ordinary will happen. We can count on a normal wedding."

Lily's posture slumped into a listless curve, as if her heart was broken and she couldn't support her spine without it. "Marge? I'm not your bridesmaid? Petty, all my life I've been your bridesmaid. We used to play-act it when we were little. You'd dress me up in that floral tablecloth and you'd tell me I was your bridesmaid - "

"That was a long time ago," Petunia said. "That was before we knew - what you are, what you might do."

Lily looked helplessly at Cheryl. "Mum?"

"I've already been over it with her. I tried my best. But it's her wedding, love," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Right," Lily said, nodding as her vision clouded over with tears she wouldn't shed in front of Petunia. "Well, I'm off then. Thanks for the birthday party."

Blurry-eyed, she came stumbling down the stairs with such a racket James met her at the bottom, sure she was falling. "Oh, there you are," she greeted him in a tone she hoped was light enough not to upset her father. She glanced into the lounge and saw Vernon's legs and feet hanging over the edge of the sofa from behind a newspaper.

Marge Dursley. Petunia's bridesmaid was Marge Dursley.

Lily clutched James's hand. "We're leaving now."

"Already? But your broom - "

"I don't have a broom."

"Not at this moment, but I was going to - "

"Now, James," she said, her voice finally cracking. She dropped it to a whisper. "For stars sake, James, get me out of here now."

In a moment more, they'd taken their leave, Cheryl hushing Mitch and telling him just to let them go. Without knowing why, James clung to Lily as she apparated them to the ground beneath a leafless tree at the top of a cold, wind-blown hill overlooking Cokeworth. It was there that she finally began to weep, choking through her story of Petunia's bridesmaid betrayal.

"It - it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud," she said, still crying. "It sounds so - "

"Petty?" James finished.

"Yes," she said, lowering her forehead to his shoulder. "I wish I didn't care at all about bridesmaids, and weddings, and little girl fantasies, but I do. I cared about Petty's wedding, maybe because I'd already given up on having a proper one of my own."

"Listen," he said, taking her wet, splotchy face in his hands. "I am hereby canceling our wedding in Dumbledore's office with no one there but us and McGonagall."

"You're hereby - what?"

"We're changing everything," he said. "We'll go to my parents and plan something beautiful. In my favourite garden at home. With you dressed like a princess. And we'll bring the lads and Marlene for guests - Sirius as best man in dress robes. Imagine it. And we'll have cake and music and lights. And if you want Petunia for a bridesmaid, I say you have her, so she can see what it is to be a gracious bride."

Lily hopped and closed her arms around his neck. She was kissing his face, still crying but for happiness now, telling him again that she loved him.

"Not just a gracious bride," he went on. "The best bride. My bride."