Three days before their wedding, James and Lily were excused from charms class to meet Professor McGonagall in the deserted Gryffindor common room. As they waited, James opened the map to muse over the possibilities of where in the school they might be assigned to live as the school's only married student couple.

"Lots of nooks and crannies," he said. "But nothing of much size unless you want to stay in a converted classroom."

Lily laughed. "Every girl's dream. A honeymoon in a Hogwarts classroom."

James grimaced as he refolded the map and stashed it in his robes. "Sorry, love. We'll go somewhere nice for Easter holidays maybe."

She shook her head. "No, that's cram time for NEWTs."

He dropped his chin on the crown of her head. "After graduation then, in the summertime. We'll go somewhere far away."

She sighed. "Just a flat of our own somewhere - London, Godric's Hollow, flaming Cokeworth - something as simple as that sounds like a dazzling future together to me right now."

They stepped apart as McGonagall came through the portrait hole, somehow managing to look dignified and stately as ever as she did so. "There you are. Ready? Good." Her keen cat-like eyes swept the room for eavesdroppers. "Right this way."

She led them to the base of the boys' dormitory steps. "All the way up," she said, waving them ahead of her. "The pinnacle of Gryffindor Tower is a disused attic that runs over the tops of both the boys' and girls' dormitories."

"But it's sealed up," James said, coming dangerously close to revealing too much about the map.

"Indeed," McGonagall said, her eyebrows raised. "To prevent travel back and forth between the dormitories, the area has been closed off for centuries. But it seems a fitting place for the pair of you. A secure middle ground within your own house."

They had arrived at the top of the stairs, past the last level of rooms, at a doorway low enough that James would have to duck his head to get beyond it. The wood it was made of was dark and rough, studded with metal bolts, like the entrance to a working dungeon. McGonagall flourished her wand and spoke a password. "Nuptials."

The massive door floated open, soundlessly. Inside, the lofty space was a curious combination of spacious and close. McGonagall fanned away the dust motes hanging in the sunbeam in front of her face. "I assure you it has been thoroughly cleaned, but hundreds of years of dust will take some time to settle."

Lily had hardly noticed, standing in the centre of the floor, looking up to where the peak of the tower came to a single, high point in the shadows above.

"There's a fireplace, but I'm afraid the ceiling's height will make it difficult to keep warm," McGonagall said.

James was at the window, gazing down at the quidditch pitch, the forest - everything. "Professor, it's amazing."

"Well, good," McGonagall said, "since it's your only option."

Lily stepped to the bed, testing the mattress with one hand. At the sound of the slightest creak of a bedspring, James spun around. Professor McGonagall did not miss the look that passed between them.

She cleared her throat. "You are well aware of the school's chastity charms," she said. "You will find that once you are lawfully married, relations between you within the school will no longer be prohibited as unchaste. At that point you may - live together naturally here. But you must be discreet."

James was nodding, his cheeks slightly pinker than usual. Lily kept her eyes fixed on the Gryffindor red coverlet on the bed.

"As the headmaster will have told you," McGonagall went on, "news of a pair of students being married will be disruptive to the school. For that reason, this space will be known as Miss Evans's Head Girl quarters, an honour awarded for her superior performance. As far as anyone but Mr. Potter's roommates will know, he will continue to live downstairs. Using the Invisibility Cloak to come here would be wise. Don't look so shocked, Potter. Of course we know you've had one all these years. Now, have you any questions?"

Lily had gone to the window, next to James, where they looked out at the slowly greening landscape far below. "It's wonderful, Professor," she said. "Thank you."

With the students' backs to her, McGonagall allowed herself one satisfied bounce on her heels. "It is, isn't it? Come along now, you can't be up here again until Saturday evening, when you'll arrive as husband and wife."

Their instructions were to hurry off to join charms class late. They veered in the opposite direction of McGonagall, not even holding hands as they rounded a corner, out of her sight. As they turned, James caught Lily's wrist and scuffed to a halt. She stopped as well. "What is it?"

His expression was intense as he pulled her into him. "It's real, isn't it?" he said, his lips against her temple. "There is a space, just for us." He had kissed down, slow, dewy pressure at one end of her jaw. "I'm going to marry you and take you to that room," he said against her throat, "and that door will close behind us and - "

She turned her head to catch his mouth with hers, newly hungry for him. Yes, she felt it too. They'd seen their first home together, secret and sparse, just a passage between two stairwells with a bathroom, fire, and a bed in it, really. But the fact that it existed meant getting married wasn't a daydream, not just a fancy dress party they were preparing. They were going to live together for the rest of their lives. His hand was inside her jumper, at her waist, his fingertips hot through the cotton of her shirt. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but this afternoon, something about it made her knees weak, and she slumped against him. His posture drooped with hers, straightening up again, holding her closer. Her fingers splayed over the swell of his chest.

"Charms," she said, breaking away. ""If McGonagall sees we've missed charms, she'll know it's come to - to this. And she's been so nice to us - "

"Right," he whispered, breathless himself.

"But I am sorry for what I said about our honeymoon," she said. "It sounded like I was complaining, but I'm not. I just want to be yours. It doesn't matter where."

He twisted them from side to side as he hugged her. "Good. Because, right now, it's all we can have."

That evening, it was the lads' turn to go to the Potters' manor to settle their wedding clothes. Their attire was nearly identical, serious black, they were calling it, with elaborate old-fashioned white ties that looped and knotted in spectacularly intricate ways around their collars and down their fronts.

Dressing alike played up how different they all looked. Peter, short and stocky, his eyes darting, as if hopelessly distracted by the fancy details of the new clothes. Remus was tall and rather stately in his, so very thin, the white of his shirt playing up the lingering redness of the scars on his face. Sirius was lean and strong with long, dark waves of hair falling over his high collar. And James, out of a school uniform, dressed in something other than a quidditch team T-shirt, in his glasses with his hair arranged more smoothly than usual, he looked older, like he might be able to pose as someone's husband.

Effie had left Monty to oversee the event. It was a purely honorary role, with two tailors who'd come from town showing the lads how to dress properly, and altering everything to fit perfectly. In practical terms, Monty had no greater role than giving the lads permission to open a few bottles from the liquor collection before dozing off over his brandy.

"There's no one better to dress than young people," the tailor wizard called Renz said. "Schoolboys, you're all so perfect. Even this twitchy little one who won't keep his hands down. Perfect."

"Yes, will you look at these lines," Renz's co-tailor Toby said, pinching the fabric falling from Remus's shoulders. "This one is so grandly tall, and the angles on him. He's a perfect mannequin."

"He is?" Sirius said.

"Oh, don't be jealous," Renz said, poking Sirius's shoulder with the tip of his wand. "You're still the pretty one. Yes, flip that hair again."

Sirius happily obliged.

Renz had turned back to James, tugging hard at his sleeve. "For stars' sake, someone get our groom another drink. He's so stiff I can hardly mark him up."

James rolled his shoulders and shook out his fingers. "Sorry."

"No need to be sorry. Poor lamb, off to be married already. How old are you, anyway?" Toby said, filling a little glass not meant to be filled so high.

"It's legal," was all James said, stiffening again.

Toby rolled his eyes so hard his voice sounded.

James had taken the glass from him and raised it to his face when the alcohol vapor hit him, burning his nose like a potions class accident. "No, not for me," James said. "I've got double Arithmancy with Lily first thing in the morning. Need to stay sharp."

Toby groaned. "Arithmancy, oh yes, you'll need to use that every day of your adult life." With a spin and a slight slosh of the drink, he was facing the rest of the room. "Well someone's got to drink this, now it's poured. Not me, I'm on the clock, sadly," he said, licking the spilled liquor from his fingers. "Oh my. Yes, it'd be a crime to waste good stuff like this. What is it, Mr. Potter, three hundred years old? Aged in hollowed out Leviathan horns? Must have cost a fortune, eh Mr. Potter?"

Monty snored and settled deeper into his armchair.

"Give it to slim, there," Renz said, nodding at Remus. "He's grown enough to be able to hold it."

Toby passed the glass to Remus who eyed it warily. From across the room, Sirius gave him a thumbs-up signal. So he shrugged and he swallowed it down before realizing how badly it would burn. Toby beat him on the back as he coughed.

The lads had drunk enough to have to go back to school through the Floo instead of risking apparating. Sirius and James arrived in the empty Entrance Hall red in the face and loud. Peter was beyond that, extremely silly, chattering and threatening to transform and go on a skittering rampage all over the school. Sirius and James were shouting him down, making much more noise than he had been. They wound up having to hold him by the arms, forcibly leading him to the stairs.

They had thought Remus was following, but he was drunker than they knew. He was quiet and happy, but finding his long legs and arms impossibly complicated and hard to manage. As he came to the bottom of the staircase, he wasn't sure how to get them to climb it, so he stood clinging to the cold marble bannister, staring up toward where he could go to sleep rather longingly.

This was what he was doing when Severus Snape and Narcissa Black found him. They were coming back to the Slytherin dungeons late after a night in the library, not expecting to see anyone - certainly not seventh year's most upstanding prefect.

"Well, well," Snape sneered. "It's Lupin, legless, and roving about down here at the stroke of curfew."

Narcissa clucked her tongue. "By the stars, Lupin. What are you thinking? It's a school night."

At the sound of her voice, he gasped, like a stage actor hamming an aside. "It's her," he said out loud as he pushed himself against the bannister to stand a little straighter.

Snape's features bent into a greedy smirk. "Yes, stay here with her while I fetch Professor Slughorn to help you upstairs," Snape said, swooping away.

Narcissa heaved a mighty sigh and took Remus's arm, tugging. "Come on, you. We've got to get you out of here before Snape gets back with a teacher and you lose your prefect status."

He let her pull his arm until it was fully extended, but his feet stayed rooted to the bottom step. His eyes followed the length of his sleeve. "Look at the perfect mannequin."

"Honestly, Lupin," she scolded, ignoring his words, draping his arm over her shoulders and wrapping her arms around his torso, pulling upward, hoping to trigger his stair climbing muscle memory. "Come on. Slughorn will be slow, but he's still coming for you."

He bent his head to stare down at her, curious. His face drooped against the top of her head, inhaling deeply, making no attempt at hiding how much he enjoyed her smell. "Mm, she's here."

"Yes, but I'm going to give up and leave if you don't come with me right now," she said, the movement of her head dislodging his face from her hair.

He grumbled but he also began to lift his feet.

"There we go," she said. "There's a good prat. Stars, Lupin. What've you got into tonight. Where were you?"

"Potters'" he said. "Fitting. Clothes for James's wedding."

"James's wedding?" she said. "What - "

But Remus had taken her face in both hands, hushing her. "Don't speak of it. You don't know. No one can know."

They had reached the top of the first flight of stairs before he'd taken hold of her face. They stood there now, his eyes hooded but focused on her. He was speaking. "Does it truly calm you down, when I touch you? That's what you said, after the Bowtruckle, in the forest." His hands repositioned themselves on her face, pushing her hair back, cradling her cheeks, his thumbs tracing her cheekbones.

Her eyelids fluttered and her mouth slipped open, her breath catching, not calming down in the least. "What are you on about?" she managed to say. She meant to sound sharp, annoyed at this drunken candor. But her voice was small and too full of breath.

Still holding his torso, she shook her head out of his hands and walked him across the corridor, to the moving staircase leading to Gryffindor tower.

"Your heartbeat," he was saying. "Since that day in the forest, I've been able to hear it when you're close, like now. Soft, below everything else."

Her pulse surged as he said this, and maybe it was just a coincidence that as it did, Remus's chest rumbled with laughter. But her answer was a scoff. "That's ridiculous," she said. "Think about it, Lupin. It's not like you're hearing it right now."

His arm crossed in front of himself, his hand finding her shoulder, long fingers pointing down her back, and the heel of his hand over a pulse, high on her chest, almost at her heart itself. He sang it's rhythm into the top of her head.

"Da dum da dum da dum…"

And in her ears, below Remus's voice, she heard the sound of his heart, low and lazy with drunkness.

"How are you doing that?" she said. "I'd expect it from Moony but - "

His head snapped up. "I am Moony. Remus and Moony. Lupin, like you call me. Both. I am always both of them, when there's you."

It was rambling madness, not at all a confession. But it felt like one all the same. Narcissa stood under Remus's arm, his hand on her shoulder, shocked, confused.

But he himself was distracted. "Why aren't the stairs moving?"

She shook herself. "Oh, that must be me. Maybe they don't let Slytherins up after curfew."

Remus fumbled for his wand.

"Lupin, no. No wands when you're - "

But he was already waving it at the stairs. "Let the girl up-io," he called.

She laughed, but to her surprise, it worked. The stone was grating its way toward the tower entrance. Stupid Gryffindor spells.

At the sound of her laughter, he was looking at her again, at her real, not smug, not sly smile in the torchlight. It lit her usually white skin with a golden glow. In the low light her eyes were dark and sparkling. Her hands were on him, the contours of her body pressed into his side, tucked under his arm, warm and soft, as if she was loveable, even for him.

But it wasn't true - not true enough. It was cruel and it changed everything - his posture, his expression, his voice as he groaned, as if suffering, and closed both his arms around her, turning her from being at his side to his front, standing face to face. He reeked of expensive liquor but she was turning her face up to his all the same.

"It's not right," he said, in that sad, aching voice. "You can't be his, when I'm yours."

Her lips parted in a sudden gasp before his arms crushed her into him, her face buried in his shoulder. She turned so her breath was warm against his neck. She wanted her mouth on him, and not her fanged Veela mouth on his werewolf pelt. She wanted him as he was, as she was at this moment, both of them abandoning everything in a kiss that would tear up their hearts. But no, he was drunk. She couldn't - no matter how tortured and sweet he was, even if Malfoy never existed, she couldn't when he was like this.

There was no answer she could make, nothing to do but hold tight to him, her hands flat and open, caressing his lean back as he swayed on the moving steps, his voice miserable, echoing her heartbeat over her ear.

There was a thud and grind as the stairs locked into place. Remus's grip slackened and she stood out of his way, beside him, bracing him for the rest of the climb. As they reached the top of the stairs, a portrait was swinging open and ruddy-faced James and Sirius was clambering out, shouting with relief when they saw Remus nearly there.

"Quickly," Narcissus said as she piled his limp, lanky arms onto Sirius. "Get him in. Snape and Slughorn should be right behind us."

Without three hundred year old whiskey, Lily's hen night was much tamer. It was meant to be a going away party from the girls in her dorm before she moved up to private quarters in the attic on Saturday night. Of the girls there, Marlene was the only one who knew anything about it being a send off for a wedding, or so Lily thought until Alice kissed her cheek and whispered her congratulations.

"Alice, it was supposed to be a surprise that you'll be there too," Marlene scolded. "You may as well know now, Lily, that Madam Potter has gone and invited the entire Order to your - erm, party."

"She what?"

"Yes, I'm sorry I told. I couldn't help myself. It's just too exciting," Alice laughed.

Marlene huffed. "Exciting for you because, once they're done, you'll get to marry your soulmate next."

"You don't say," Lily marveled. "You and Frank? Actually soulmates? And soon to be..."

"Yes," Alice said. "It'll happen this summer, right after school. We're the other pair of soulmates from the prophecy."

Lily sprang to her feet. "Prophecy? What prophecy?" She had nearly shouted the question, drawing the eyes of all the girls in the common room.

Marlene forced a laugh and waved it off, pulling Lily back to sitting. "Right. So do you mean to say you've come this far and you've never been properly told about the prophecy? Honestly, Evans, who is your Order handler?"

Lily shrugged. "Dumbledore, I suppose."

Marlene groaned while Alice said, "That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Why you don't know anything," Alice said. "Dumbledore is notorious for that. You need someone like Frank's mum to get fed up and tell you everything."

"Look," Marlene said, "there's this prophecy from ages ago that says when a Dark Lord arises, if you'll pardon the expression, two pairs of soulmates will appear. And between them, a chosen one will be born who will turn the evil back."

"Isn't it amazing?" Alice said.

Lily blinked. "Well, James's parents put together the chosen one bit for us. But they didn't seem that happy about it. The word 'amazing' was certainly never used."

Alice hung her head. "Well, amazing things can still be - terribly difficult." She and Marlene exchanged a troubled glance.

Lily failed to notice it. "So it could well be that all this time, James and me might have just been a red herring to throw Tom Riddle off Frank and Alice's trail?"

Marlene slapped her on the back. "Don't sound so disappointed. You got a soulmate out of the bargain even if you don't get to save the world."

"And I think the stronger possibility is that we have been a cover for you," Alice said. "I mean, you two are the ones he attacked on the road to Hogsmeade. I don't think he's noticed us at all."

Lily hummed. "That attack wasn't about being soulmates, that was the ma - something else," she finished. "James had his own secrets."

"Don't we all," Marlene intoned.

"Well, I'm glad you know about us now, even if it's late. For us, knowing there was another possible pair was part of why we agreed to it," Alice said. "Just half the chance. Though I rather wish it was strangers. I will feel sorry if it turns out it's the pair of you who has the chosen one and ends up - well…"

Marlene hung her head now. "Alice, really…"

"Ends up what?" Lily said.

"No, Marlene's right. I shouldn't have. Not the night before..." Alice said. "You should know, but it would have been better if it didn't come from me."

Lily threw her hands up. "What is it, Alice? It has to come from somewhere, and at this point, I don't much care where. No one's telling us anything. I asked Madam Potter why Mr. Potter nearly bursts into tears every time he has to talk about our wedding, and all she did was promise to get me a book of some new magic to learn. But that tells me nothing."

Alice swallowed hard, her head bobbing. "Alright," she said. "But remember. I knew all of this before agreeing to it and I chose it anyway. I chose Frank. And I always will. I chose not to slog through a long, empty life with my soul half gone, as it would be if I had left him as soon as I knew what was required."

Lily blinked, her mouth dry, already stunned. "Please, Alice, what is required?"

But Alice's eyes were glossing over with tears that were sure to fall if she said another word.

Marlene took a deep breath. "The chosen one's parents will have to face the Dark Lord along with their child. If they don't, the child will fail and die themself. But we all know what happens to people who face Dark Lords."

Alice was talking again now, tears on her cheeks, but racing through an argument she knew by heart. "Now Lily, there are many ways to read the prophecy. Frank's mum keeps saying that. She's working on it. The whole Order is. If we know it's coming, we can do something. Augusta loves Frank more than anything. She wouldn't mindlessly sacrifice him. No, she believes we can do this and not have to die."

Lily's face was white. "Die?"

"No, you heard her," Marlene said, catching Lily's hand and squeezing it. "No one in the Order accepts that as inevitable yet. We're all working on a way around it. There's still time. There's still hope."

Lily pulled her hand free. "Die? If we get married, James might die?"

"We're all going to die someday," Alice said. "We may as well die together, and it may as well be for something wonderful."

Lily was rising slowly to her feet. "Not James," was all she said.

Marlene and Alice watched her go, leaving her own party, climbing the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

There was no light from under the door to the lads' room so Lily let herself in, quietly, without knocking. The curtains were open around James's bed, and she could see him sleeping, flawless and childlike in the dimness, peaceful on the last night before his wedding was supposed to happen.

She shook him awake, whispering. "It's me."

He jolted beneath his blankets, groping for his glasses. "Lily?"

"Yes, get up. I found something out. We need to talk about it," she said, her voice cracking with tears.

Instead of getting up, James pulled her into his narrow dormitory bed with him, flicking the curtains closed on all sides. He wrapped his blankets around her, folding her into the warmth and softness of his sleepiness. "What is it?" he was saying. "Talk to me."

But she wouldn't speak, not even in the close privacy of the near total darkness of his curtained bed. They lay on their sides, facing each other, clinging to each other, but she kept her face hidden in his t-shirt, over his heart, feeling the strong, living thud of its beating against her lips and cheek.

He waited, stroking her hair as her quiet sobs shook her. After a few minutes, her hand moved underneath the hem of his shirt, her palm trailing over his skin, searching for his heartbeat, keeping her connected to it as she leaned away to speak.

"I don't want you to die," she said.

He kissed her forehead. "I'm not dying," he said. "I will die, but no time soon. And I don't want you dying either. If we're lucky, we can go together."

He meant it to be reassuring but it set her shivering, turning onto her other side, her back against his front. "I found something out," she said again. "Tonight, from Alice. She and Frank - they're a lot like us…" She told him the rest - about the other prophecy, and the fate of the chosen one's parents.

From behind, James settled his face into the curve of her shoulder. "You didn't come up here to try to save my life by calling off the wedding, did you?"

She turned to face him, eyes wide but dry now. She blinked at him, not yet ready to speak.

"It was the first thing to occur to me," he said, pushing her hair behind her ear. "That I had to do whatever it took to protect you from this. But then, there's our prophecy. The one that says I'm never to leave you."

"Oh," she said, finally speaking. "Our prophecy. I hadn't thought of it."

"Yes, our prophecy. It's not some story we heard about secondhand at a party," James said. "It's the one we spoke to each other, with our own voices, the moment we came together."

"Sealed up in an orb only we can touch," she finished. "And it says to stay with you, even if there's not much time."

He found her hand clenched in the fabric on the outside of his shirt now, eased it free, and kissed it. "Don't call it off, Lily. I mean, do it for yourself, if that's what you want. Mum said you could refuse the prophecy if you wanted. But don't call it off just for me. I'll never leave. Let's do what the rest of them are doing for Frank and Alice, and look for a way around what seems to be our fate. Let's see what Aunt Bathilda's books says. We'll start there."

"And let's do whatever we must to never be apart. Whatever," she said, her voice breaking into tears again, "whatever that turns out to be."

James let out his breath, relieved, energized to fight for her, more in love than ever. He kissed her wet cheeks, her chin, and as he reached her mouth, he rolled himself on top of her. With one hand, she held his head, her fingers in his hair, her back arching against his mattress, her knees on either side of his hips. Her other hand was inside his shirt again, fingers curled into the patch of dark hair at the centre of his chest.

He pulled away, slipping out from between her knees, onto his side again. "I'll behave," he said. "I won't trip the chastity alarms. I promise. But stay here all night with me, Lily. I can't bear to waste any more of our time being without you."

She smoothed his hair and kissed him again. There was so much longing between them it was soon heated and James had to throw himself off of her again. "Pardon me," he said, nestling side by side again. "See, I'm in control. Just stay. Please."

She tipped her forehead against his chin. "I'll stay until you're asleep."

"But I want to watch you sleep."

"Well, you won't," she said with a gentle laugh. "Not tonight."

"Alright," he said. "I'll settle for staying with you until you're not so sad anymore."

In the darkness, she traced his eyebrow with her forefinger. "Maybe a little longer than that."

Far below Gryffindor Tower, in the Slytherin dungeon, Severus Snape sat up late over his Divination homework. Coming into the class late in the year had been a mistake and a waste. He was getting nowhere trying to convince Lily to join the movement, and the work was fuzzy and impossible to perfect. He crumpled another parchment and Vanished it from his desk.

"Make Evans help you with that," Narcissa said, stretching and getting to her feet, finished her revisions for the night.

"Not available. She's moving to new private Head Girl quarters tomorrow night so her dorm-mates are giving her a send off tonight," he droned rearranging the pages of his key to tasseography.

Narcissa hummed. "Head Girl quarters, is it? I guess Potter won't be jealous, since they might be roommates very soon."

Severus cringed. "Not while they're at school, they won't be. That should give her enough time to snap out of it."

She shrugged as she turned to leave. "I'm sure you're right."

Severus set his quill on the desk. "Wait. You know something."

"I don't."

"Tell me, Narcissa. You owe me since you not only let Lupin get away from me the other night, but helped him on his way."

"What an accusation, Severus."

"You're warming up to him," he said. "That werewolf. That cursed, filthy, murderous monster, worse than a Mudblood."

"That's enough," she said.

Severus pinched his hair into place. "Lupin has told you something about Lily's future. Something he knows from Potter."

"Stop it."

"He has, and you feel tenderly enough toward him to be protecting him now. It's sickening. And if you don't tell me what they're hiding, this minute, I will have no choice but to contact Lucius and have him ask you what that werewolf said to you as you put him to bed."

She shouted a laugh. "Why would Lucius or your Dark Lord or anyone but you give a care about rooting out Lily Evans's secrets?"

Severus loomed to standing, coming closer to speak lower. "In his wisdom, the Dark Lord has made this couple his concern. Therefore, they become all of our concern. You don't think I started this blasted Divination class as a final bid to realize a childhood infatuation, did you? No, I did it in the service of our Lord."

As he spoke, his eyes searched for hers. The air took on a dark, acidic tang.

"Don't you dare," she said, pivoting out of his view. "Don't you dare try to turn your pathetic Legilimency on me, a daughter of the House of Black, you ungrateful, perverse - "

"Fine," he said, dropping his eyes. "But you must tell me what you learned from Lupin, or you WILL tell Lucius what you were doing with him, hiding from me in the castle yesterday night. I'm sure he'll be most understanding - "

"They're getting married," she blurted. "Soon. Lupin had just come from being fitted for wedding clothes when we found him."

"Wedding?" Severus nearly spat. "How soon?"

"I don't know. But if Evans is getting her own quarters in the castle, I can't imagine it will be much longer." Narcissa swiped up her book bag from her desk by the window. "Now, that is all I know. And if you'll promise to leave Lucius alone, I'll be going to bed."

She left him, sitting alone, glaring out at the black water.