Chapter Eighty-One

"What do you think she'd like?" Harry asked Malachi, as they tucked into their breakfast at the Gryffindor table.

"You'd know better than me, Harry," Malachi chuckled at Harry's imploration that he give him some suggestions for what to get Daphne for her birthday the following month.

"I dunno, you've been friends with her longer," Harry pointed out, as Malachi gave a polite, shy smile to the third-year-girl – Amber – that caught his eye across the table, and nudged him; "Isn't there a book or something she wants? You talk about books and stuff, all the time."

"A book? Didn't you want to give her a boyfriend gift?"

"A boyfriend gift?"

"Yeah. Like flowers. Or perfume. Or a ring."

Harry frowned, wondering if that was the appropriate 'etiquette'.

Where would he even get flowers, he wondered, as all the flowers on the grounds were almost all dead, now, with the coming of winter. He'd have to transfigure them or something.

Perfume. No.

He didn't want Daphne's nice smell being ruined by the scent of old lady musk fumes that he sometimes caught a whiff of on Professor Sprout.

A ring.

That seemed a bit over the top.

And usually that meant a promise of marriage or something, which was even more over the top, even though he had heard about some sixth and seventh years doing that. Giving one another 'promise' rings or 'pre-engagement' rings, as they were called, which seemed somewhat redundant to him and would spoil the surprise of the real thing.

It had taken Mr. Black almost a decade to give Julia one.

And, as far as he could tell, his mum didn't wear a ring at all, so Snape obviously hadn't done so, either.

But then, his mum and Snape weren't exactly a normal example of a couple. And he doubted Snape would be much good at giving him advice on this.

His mum probably considered a smile a good gift from Snape.

Harry's eyes went in the direction of the Professors' table, to where the man sat, eating his breakfast, not engaging in conversation with any of the other professors who surrounded him.

Nothing much unusual about that.

They'd passed one another in the Tapestry Corridor that morning, already – Harry and Snape – a few feet from the potion's cupboard, and Snape had simply raised an eyebrow at him as he passed while Harry grinned, wiggling his own eyebrows as he glanced at the cupboard door, before Snape rolled his eyes at how much Harry didn't care that he had caught him with Daphne.

Snape would just have to get used to it.

Harry fully intended on having her at the house, as soon as he could, and there'd be no silly 'Professor Snape' rules to stop him, once Snape finally came home and saw them together.

There was a stir in the Great Hall as the owl post swept in for the day, dropping their letters in front of the no-longer-so-eager waiting students.

There were murmurs and gasps and even some sobs, as a larger number of students than usual – more than a dozen, that morning – got to their feet and left the room. To mourn their loss and to go to their Head of House to arrange immediate contact with their families.

Snape got up, too, obviously to deal with it. As well as Professor McGonagall and the other two Heads of Houses – all of them returning to their offices.

Harry's eyes went to his Uncle Remus, then, who hadn't stood to leave – he didn't need to, not having the responsibility of a whole House full of students – but Harry noticed, getting a frown as he did, that there was a letter that had come for him, too, and he was reading it, slowly, with a look of obvious distress at whatever had been written.

After a few moments, Remus got to his feet, and headed from the room.

Harry's eyes followed him all the way, trying – unsuccessfully – to catch his gaze.

The rest of the meal was spent under a cloud of somberness, as quiet voices continued to murmur on, until, finally, the truth reached them, Ron and Hermione moving down to table to join them.

"What's going on?" Harry asked them, with a frown.

"Huge defeat on our side, up by Arthur Creek," Ron told him, quietly, sharing a look with Hermione; "A whole village wiped out, and almost another two nearby before the aurors got there. Death Eaters attacked through the night."

Harry swallowed, digesting the information, eyes going to the door where Remus had left.

Tonks was an auror.

"Hi, Malachi."

All four of them turned.

Irena Maloney – one of the fourth year Ravenclaws – was standing there, and she got a blush, giving them all a nervous smile, before focusing on Malachi.

"Um. I was just wondering if you already had someone to go with for the Hogsmeade visit?"

Malachi looked a little surprised – though he shouldn't have, as girls had been fluttering their eyelashes at him all week – and shook his head; "Oh. I'm not sure –"

Maloney got a smile, eyes lighting up, before she gave a bashful shrug; "Yeah, I thought I'd ask early, this time. I'd really like to talk to you. About your writing."

Malachi's eyes drifted a bit, in the direction of the Ravenclaw table at the other side of the hall, before he drew in a breath, and met Maloney's eyes.

He gave her a smile, nodding; "Yeah. Yeah, sure. I…I'll get you in the entrance lobby."

Maloney smiled, evidently delighted.

"Can't wait."

"Irena Maloney – nice one, Mate," Ron said, congratulating Malachi's choice of partner, only to receive an elbow in the ribs from Hermione, "Ow! What was that for?"

Hermione ignored him, rolling his eyes, before she smiled at Malachi.

"Did you mean what you said? That you'd be willing to live by a new rule of magical law – to keep it even – but that allowed us to be open and share our knowledge if it would grant wizards the chance to advance theirs, that's only available in the muggle world?"

"Say what?" Ron looked confused.

"Muggles have universities, higher level programs in a wider range of fields," Hermione explained, "The latest article discussed how we were preventing ourselves from expanding our own awareness about the world and life and science –"

"Science?"

"It's –" Hermione shook her head, giving a shrug; "A bit like potions and arithmancy, combined. But…"

"Better," Malachi offered.

"Yeah," Hermione said, "Not that I know much about muggle science, anymore, of course. But my parents are dentists, and it is something they get extremely excited about."

"Arithmancy and Potions. Bloody hell, sounds boring," Ron remarked, earning a look from Hermione.

Harry got to his feet, his mind still on Remus, "Catch you later, alright?"

He headed off – giving a nod at their mutters of farewell – as they carried on with their discussion of Malachi's articles, and he went to the Defence classroom first.

It was empty and so was the office a little further up the corridor.

So – realizing that something must really be wrong – Harry hurried on to the other side of the Castle, making his way to his Uncle Remus' chambers. He knocked on the door when he finally reached it – more of a bang – before he pushed it open and headed in.

Remus was sitting at the counter of the kitchenette, head in his hands, but it quickly lifted at Harry's entrance.

"Harry."

His Uncle Remus tried to smile, to conceal his obvious upset – but he was never good at that sort of stuff – so Harry quickly headed over to him.

"Are you alright? Is it –" he hesitated, as he reached him, " – was Tonks there?"

Remus swallowed, glancing away for a second, before he gave Harry a smile and a nod, rubbing his arm.

"Yes, she was. She's…she's in St Mungo's," he cleared his throat, obviously trying to be optimistic when he added, "I'm afraid, there's not much else to tell, at the moment – no news is good news, I suppose - she's in good hands –"

Harry hugged him, not fooled by the attempt, and Remus released a small breath – a little like a laugh – and hugged him back.

"Thank you, Harry," he whispered against his shoulder.

Harry just smiled, hugging him a bit tighter, before he let him go.

"Hot chocolate?"

Remus didn't wait for a response, stepping down from the stool once Harry released him and making his way over to the cupboard, setting about making them.

"Must be hard," Harry said, pulling himself up onto the stool to take a seat, "Being apart for so long and worrying about each other."

Remus cast the warming charm on the milk and glanced over his shoulder at him, giving a nod, "Yes. It is a cruel time we're living in, Harry. Something even you haven't been immune to, particularly this past year."

Harry shrugged, "Things have been alright for me the last little while, really."

Remus got a little grin, raising his eyebrows, while his eyes remained on the mugs in front of him, "Oh, I had noticed that."

Remus lifted the mug – still grinning – and headed back over to him, putting each one down on the counter, while Harry grinned in turn, feeling himself get a little bit red.

"She is a lovely girl, Harry."

"Even for a Slytherin?"

"Especially for a Slytherin."

They two of them chuckled, taking sips of their respective hot chocolates, before Remus smiled at him more warmly, from where he leaned on his elbows on the counter beside him.

"I've been very proud of you, Harry," Remus told him, making Harry both blush and puff up with pride, at the same time, as his uncle went on, "You haven't allowed the opinions and expectations of others to influence your behaviour towards them – to Miss Greengrass and towards Malachi – and you've stood by them. That takes courage, standing up for what you know is right."

Harry shrugged.

"Wasn't that big a deal. I'm the one that had more to gain by it, anyway. Malachi and Daphne – they're great. I mean, they're just people, right, like anyone else. The best people, actually. Two of the best I know."

Remus gave him a warm smile, squeezing his arm.

And then Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes, "Besides, Grace is gonna be a Slytherin. She's already stated her 'allegiance', so I need to get used to it. If anything, I'm the one that's gonna be outnumbered, in the end. Especially with Snape…"

Harry's voice tapered off at his own thoughts. That, hopefully soon, Snape would be at the house – the war finally over – and they'd be a family. A real one. He'd be like… his dad. For real.

Finally, his treacherous little mind – his hopes – whispered.

The incident at their most recent legillimency session – and the way he'd decided to try and give him 'the talk' in the aftermath – made it seem like it wasn't that far away. That, already, Snape did see him as more than just Grace's brother and his mother's son.

Harry glanced at Remus, drawn back from his thoughts, and he wondered, then, properly, if what he – and what he'd realized Snape, too – had thought was actually true. That his Uncle Remus had been in love with his mum, too, and had been waiting – hoping – for something more, too scared to just ask, like Harry was with Snape.

Remus, sensing Harry's eyes on him, turned his head to look at him, giving him another smile, and Harry smiled back.

He seemed happier, now, his Uncle Remus.

Happier for walking away.

But Harry knew, even after all that they'd been through – because of it, even – he'd always still be there, so long as he and Grace needed him.

"What does a boyfriend get a girl for her birthday?"

Remus' smile widened, "Ah."

Harry nodded.

"She'll be sixteen next month," Harry elaborated, "There's a Hogsmeade visit coming up, so I could get something there, but…I have no idea what. Malachi says flowers or perfume or –" he felt silly even saying it, " – a ring. I mean, Tonks is your girlfriend. Have you ever given her a ring?"

Remus' eyebrows lifted and he got a smile, giving a chuckle, before he shook his head.

"No. Not yet."

"Oh. Not yet?" Harry repeated, frowning at the seeming inevitability of the statement, before he asked, "Are you going to?"

Remus' smile slowly widened, holding Harry's look for a second. And then he touched his wand – 'accioed' a little box – and slid it over the counter Harry's way.

Harry flicked the box open, revealing a ring – a really, really nice one – and he stared at it for a second, knowing it wasn't just any old ring.

He looked at Remus, excitedly.

"You're going to ask her to marry you?"

"Well – it is something that she and I have discussed –"

"Yes!" Harry laughed in delight and flung his arms around him, hugging him with glee, "That's so great, Uncle Remus!"

Remus chuckled, hugging him back, "Let's not celebrate too soon, hm? She hasn't actually said yes, yet."

"Well, why wouldn't she?" Harry said, drawing back with a frown, and then he went on, "I hope she's better when you visit – are you going to ask her tonight?"

"When the time is right," Remus stated, smilingly, before ruffling his hair, "But, we were talking about you and your young lady, were we not?"

Harry nodded, still feeling delighted for Remus, and unable to stop smiling. So happy that he finally had someone – that he'd be happy – and maybe, even, have a family of his own. He could just imagine it, a little cousin, a playmate for Grace.

She loved babies.

"Guess I better listen, you're obviously good at this, then," Harry remarked, making Remus chuckle.

"There's no great secret to giving gifts, Harry. Simply use what you know about her – or something the two of you have shared – and chose something based on that. It's the most thoughtful ones that stay with us."

Harry considered it, still not entirely sure, but he felt a little more assured, giving Remus a smile.


"We had a visitor at the Learning Centre today, Mummy," Grace told her, as she lay tucked up into Lily's side where they were both lying upon her daughter's bed.

Grace, beneath the covers, and Lily, not, as she continued to try – in vain – to encourage her little girl to go to sleep.

"You can tell me all about it tomorrow," Lily pressed her lips to her daughter's forehead.

"It was Hagrid, Mum!" Grace announced, excitedly, not heeding her mother's cue; "He brought such cool magical animals for us to see. Just little ones. But he's got big ones at Hogwarts that I'll get to see later. Did you get to see them when you were at school?"

Lily touched her finger to Grace's lips, silencing her.

"Sweetheart. Bed."

Grace's shoulders dropped; "I'm not sleepy."

"Yes, you are."

"Nope –" she pointed to both eyes with each index finger, " – wide open, see!"

Lily rolled her eyes, shaking her head, fighting a fond smile that threatened – for if her daughter knew she was amused by her antics, that would be the battle lost, completely – and the accioed a book from the shelf.

"How about this one? It's your favourite – thirty pages – and by the end of it, you'll be asleep. Deal?"

Grace eyed the book, eyes going a little glazed for a second, before she shook it off and looked at her mum with a raised eyebrow, with an expression of negotiation.

"Will you do the voices like Daddy does?"

Lily felt a little jolt at that, realizing she'd triggered – this book had triggered – another memory.

And then she drew in a breath, giving a little nod and a smile, before crossing her fingers and holding them up.

Grace smiled, satisfied, and gave a single nod.

"Deal."

Lily chuckled, pressing her lips to the top of Grace's head, and started to read.

The two of them chuckled, cuddling in close, as they went through each page, the tale so well known to them that Lily really didn't even need the book to tell it – it was entirely committed to memory – and as the story went on, Grace's delighted interjections slowed until they became whispers, her eyelids growing heavy.

Until, finally, almost when the book was entirely finished, she felt Grace's head lean heavily upon her shoulder, her daughter's form relaxing with sleep.

Lily flicked her wand, dimming the light.

And then she drew in a breath, leaning her head back against the headboard, and just lay there a moment, holding Grace in her arms.


The light was on in Grace's room.

Severus lingered in the shadows, eyes upon the house, waiting for a signal that would never come. The yellow item in the window that would tell him it was safe to come home.

It would never be safe, so long as Harry lived.

It would never be home, so long as Harry died.

Severus swallowed, eyes closing, knowing – determined – that tonight was the night that Lily would know of it.

The truth.

Regulus was right.

He had waited too long as it is.

And, so, when the light in Grace's room dimmed, he made his way from the shadows and entered the house the way he had done so during the summer, through the basement.

The house was quiet, even when he emerged from the staircase and entered the kitchen, but he could hear the sound of hushed voices overheard – of Lily and Grace – as she put their little girl to bed.

His eyes found a new picture on the wall – only one in the kitchen – of the three of them.

Lily and Harry and Grace.

It was a recent one of them at Regulus and Julia's wedding, as they huddled close to one another, smiling widely, in their formalwear.

His lips twitched, getting a small smile at the sight of them, but it didn't last long, for his eyes drifted lower, coming to rest on the items on the table below. Books and parchments of articles and journals and research, all he knew pertained to the project Lily had proposed at the Foundation some months before.

It ought to have been a cause for celebration – the culmination of over a decade's worth of hard work and ambition – that Lily should propose and take the lead on one of her very own research projects. One that – should it have been successful – would be admired and called upon throughout the Wizarding World.

Instead, it would soon become a lifeline. One of far too few they had to cling to, in an attempt to save their son.

There were footsteps on the stairs – far too soon – and Severus glanced in the direction of them knowing, from the sound and the carefulness with which she descended, that she was alone, and that Grace must finally be asleep.

Lily hesitated on the final step, momentarily startled, but she got a smile when her initial hesitation passed.

"Severus – muffliato –"

She approached him, her smiling widening as she did, and she leaned up, pressing her lips to his, when she reached him.

Severus relished this last kiss. Their last before reality came down upon them, lifting a hand to caress her cheek.

Lily drew back but remained close, her eyes expressing concern, when she asked, "Is something wrong?"

For, obviously, there would be no other reason for him to be there than something dire in light of their current – as far as she knew – entirely contended circumstances.

Their lives carrying on as they had planned – though by no means what they wished for, quite yet – but, in these last moments, Lily was living in the belief and the hope that all of them were safe, they were moving towards something better, that the future was brighter than all that the present offered them now.

Severus swallowed.

He hated himself for being the one to take that from her.

He hated all of this.

He regretted – with all of his being – that he hadn't followed his own instincts in the beginning, and taken her to safety when she had looked upon him – eyes so trusting, so full of faith in him – believing that he possibly could have. When she had looked upon him as if he had all the answers and was entirely capable of protecting her and her son.

Trust Dumbledore, he had told her.

Severus nodded, slowly, his hands coming up her shoulders, "Yes. It is."

Lily frowned.

His tone, alone, conveying the severity of it.

"What is it?" she whispered, her uneasiness rising quickly.

"It's Harry."

Lily hesitated, but it was all there in her eyes. The alarm that she felt, the dread at what he had come to say, and she said nothing. Just waited for him.

Severus lowered his eyes.

"There has been further information discovered regarding what happened the night that Sirius Black was killed. The effects that his sacrifice – and then the ensuing Killing Curse – had upon the Dark Lord when he cast it upon him – Harry."

Lily frowned.

And then she lifted her chin and – for a moment – Severus thought he caught a flash of understanding, past her unease, for he nodded, and went on.

"All evidence points to … that the Dark Lord's soul – already fragile and unstable due to the creation of his horcruxes – was unable to withstand –"

"Oh my God," Lily's voice was a whisper.

For a moment, the two of them just stood there, their eyes upon one another.

Severus with a look that conveyed all – the truth of it – with the regret and the pain in his eyes, and Lily with an expression of increasing understanding and dread, as it all came together – all she already knew suddenly clicking into place – and she drew in a trembling breath, shaking her head.

"No."

Severus squeezed the arms his hands were upon, his expression pained, "I should have seen it. There have been signs. The parseltongue, the mind link, the possessions – the most severe of which the night you were injured – and –"

"No," Lily whispered, stepping back from him, her own hands coming up to her cheeks and her eyes on the floor as she shook her head, "No, no, no. He can't be."

"Lily."

Severus stepped towards her and reached up, his hand going to her hair, and he drew her close, pressing her face into his chest and holding her tight, as she murmured against him.

Her words were muffled – refusing to believe it – but he could tell by the way she trembled in his arms, by the look in her eyes as he'd spoken, that she knew it to be true.

It all seemed so ludicrous now that they had ever missed it.

Lily's murmurs stopped but her trembling didn't and he could feel the fabric of his shirt dampen through his robes as he simply held her, glad of the fact that he had kept it from her a little longer so that he could do this – hold her and remain strong for her – having already shed his own tears.

Lily drew back from him, abruptly, after a few moments, swiping at her tears.

"We would have known – we should have known," Lily said, shaking her head, "How did we miss it? Someone must have seen it."

"We are seeing it now, as their connection strengthens," Severus agreed, "The signs have all pointed –"

"Albus would have known."

Severus hesitated.

When Lily said nothing more – just looked at him – as if in a challenge, he conceded the fact with a nod.

"Yes. The Headmaster is aware –"

"Of course, he is. Of course, he is."

"Lily," Severus attempted to reason with her, with a hand on her arm, when he noticed her eyes flash furiously, "He is not what matters right now –"

"Like hell he isn't! He will have known this from the start. With his scheming and his plotting, manipulating all of us –"

Lily knocked by him and flung open the door – fully intending on confronting Dumbledore that instant – and Severus hurried after her, following her up the garden path.

"Lily, you mustn't –"

"You have been defending him all of this time, well I won't hear anymore of it, Severus," Lily snapped over her shoulder, not stopping, and Severus hesitated as she reached the boundary of the Fidelius.

"Wait –"

Lily disapparated.

Severus stepped forward, fully intending to follow, but, of course, he couldn't, not when their daughter still lay sleeping in her bedroom and he pinched the bridge of his nose, before he turned and headed back to the house.


Lily burst through the doors to Dumbledore's office, the fact she had been held at the gates for almost twenty minutes before they'd grant her entrance only serving to infuriate her further.

Albus was sitting there, behind his desk, entirely unalarmed at her arrival.

As if he had been waiting for it.

"Lily."

Lily stepped towards him and her fury left her when he gave her one of his warm smiles.

So familiar, so reassuring to her during her times at the school, the times they had served together – that she had served him – even now in the Order, and the betrayal caused a twist in her gut as she shook her head.

"How could you?"

"Lily –"

"How could you?"

Dumbledore stood, his expression one of regret – just as Severus' had been – and he shook his head, "Lily. I am so very sorry."

"Don't stand there are tell me you're sorry," Lily burst out, "Don't stand there and tell me that you're sorry when you have kept this from us for God knows how long. That you never told us we should be running, that my son was going to have to die to end this war that we have been fighting for you!"

"I wished to spare you the burden," Albus said, as if his secrecy had been entirely reasonable, "For how could you go on, do what needed to be done, knowing how it all must be in the end."

"You want me to sacrifice my son for you," Lily shook her head, willing her voice – raw with pain and grief and renewed fury – to be steady, "I won't!"

"Not for me, Lily. I could never ask nor force it of you, of course I could not. It will – in the end – be a choice for yourself, for Severus, for Harry –"

"You stay away from him, Albus! You will not speak of it with him. You will not!"

Albus raised his eyebrows, "Because you know he would choose the right path? The one that would spare the lives, the suffering of countless others," Albus nodded, his smile regretful, "I have known your son, Lily. He is good and kind and, I dare say, better than all of us. Do you truly believe he would be grateful to us, for saving him over the rest of the –"

"Do not, do not!" Lily burst out, "Is this what you've been saying to Severus? Is this how you've been trying to explain yourself? By laying blame for this war at our feet if we're not willing to kill my son!"

"No, Lily," Albus said, firmly, "No."

Albus' eyes were upon the desk, with a look of consideration, and then he met her eyes, drawing in a breath.

"As you are aware, there was far more – a far greater and more powerful magic – at play that night, that led to this fragment of Voldemort's soul breaking off and attaching itself to your son."

Lily frowned, eyes upon him, silently waiting for him to go.

"I feel I can be nothing but honest with you but – Lily, know this – that the more who know of what I am about to tell you, the more perilous your son's situation will becomes"

"That he is a horcrux –"

"No," Albus shook his head, before going on, "I refer to the sacrifice made by Sirius Black that night. The sacrifice that protected Harry from being killed along with Voldemort, the sacrifice that lives on within him, in his veins, the loving sacrifice that his Godfather made for him. That, which just might be the answer, that which just may give Harry a chance."

Lily shook her head, "Voldemort took Harry's blood. The Old Magic that was enacted no longer protects him – it was voided. He can touch Harry, now, we know that. That's why it had to be his blood, to bring himself back to life, Severus told me –"

"Severus told you what Voldemort, himself, believed to be the case," Albus interrupted her, "What I believe just may be his downfall."

Lily stared back at him, not fully comprehending what the old man was telling her.

"You see, by taking Harry's blood into his veins – by using your son's blood to rebuild his own living body – Sirius Black's protection now lives on inside both of them. And, in doing so, he has tethered Harry to life so long as he lives. He took into himself a tiny part of the enchantment that Sirius laid upon him when he died for his godson. And, in doing so, Voldemort, himself, keeps that sacrifice alive."

Lily frowned, "You…you mean…Harry would live? The curse would rebound again if –"

"So long as Voldemort, himself, casts the curse that will destroy the horcrux, yes, it is my belief that Harry would survive."

"Your belief?"

"Call it a hunch."

"A hunch," Lily repeated, eyeing him, "You want me to hand my son over to Voldemort to be killed on a hunch. And yet you suggest that another circumstance could be more perilous than that?"

"The enchantment enacted by Sirius' sacrifice protects Harry from Voldemort and Voldemort alone. And it will only work so long as Harry – entirely and completely – is able to sacrifice himself, willingly, without any expectation that by doing so, he will live. As such, he can never know the truth. For the truth, could very well be the end of him."

"So, then, I have to convince Harry to walk willingly to his death? Lie to him –"

"Not only to him. The more who know of it – the truth that a piece of Voldemort's soul resides within him – indeed, the more precarious the situation will become. For once others know of it – as our own losses continue to mount – it will not take long before others attempt to take the situation into their own hands. And, indeed, if any were to make an attempt on your son's life, should their attempt be successful Harry would most certainly die along with the last piece of soul that anchors Voldemort to life. The only chance your son has of survival, is to willing walk to his own death."

Lily stared at him.

Her jaw set, "And if you're wrong?"

Albus regarded her.

"Well. If I am mistaken in my interpretation, then your son will have just ended the war. Voldemort would become mortal once more. And Harry's sacrifice would not have been in vain."

Lily's lips twisted in a humourless smile.

"Right. So, either way, it would suit your own agenda quite nicely, wouldn't it?"

Lily lifted her shoulders, shaking her head, "And by then, once we realised we had been fooled into convincing our own son to walk to his own death – convincing him that his own parents should wish it, that he should die for our future – it would no longer matter. Nothing more could be done. Harry would be dead."

"And so, would Voldemort."

Lily ground her teeth, suddenly hating the man before her, more than she had, anyone.

"I don't believe you."

Lily turned and stormed from the room.