A/N: here's October! Hope you enjoy - it's the longest so far. See you in November :)


After September - a mix of hellish and lovely - she settles into a rhythm of sorts. The first week, Lily gets some know-it-all firsties intent on showing just how much they know about Muggles. Which is a disturbingly small amount for the pureblooded among them. Then she gets a few upper level students a bit angry that this is no longer a 'bird course', but they're quickly dealt with to varying degrees of success. Some rise to the challenge, others decide to try their luck becoming repetitive nuisances in the classroom.

It's a toss up whether this is solely out of teen angst or darker motives. Lily's choosing to believe the former while keeping the latter in mind just in case. Sure, she'd been in Paris for most of the war, but she wasn't unaware. A few years of peace and being on the losing side of a conflict didn't magically make everyone not bigoted. Societal shifts like that could take decades to really set in, and even then it wasn't a sure thing. Besides, Lily's not hiding her heritage, trotting around Hogwarts in muggle trainers and skirts that - gasp - show her ankles. Sometimes even a bit of her calves. Horror of horrors.

But her hope, her goal in all of this, is to be that person who can show them. Show them Muggles are valuable and creative and that magic or no, they're people.

And now, with Remus' newest project he's roped her into, she'll get to show just how little blood has to do with magical power. Or at least that's what he'd pitched when begging her to take his place as the faculty sponsor of the Duelling Club.

He nabs her on the way to their first mid-semester staff meeting, shoving an iced bun in her hand with a hopeful grin.

Lily bites into the delicious golden puff with eyes narrowed. "I hate you."

That earns her a second iced bun. "No you don't."

"You just had to bring my manifesto into this."

"It's not a manifesto if it's not written down," Remus corrects, then asks, "Is it written down?"

They round the corner and descend the slim, winding stairwell to the muggy dungeons. "No comment."

It's just shy of eight o'clock and McGonagall keeps Dumbledore on a tight schedule so everyone's already claimed seats by the time they get to the disused classroom. James and Sirius wave them over. Well, James waves them over. Sirius flicks his brows up in recognition and resumes his study of the ceiling.

McGonagall smacks her gavel - because of course she has a gavel for meetings - and calls the room to order. Just as Dumbledore's taking over at the podium, Remus leans in close and whispers, "Oh and by the way, James is your co-sponsor so you'll be working together. That's not a problem right?"

Remus pauses long enough for Lily to widen her eyes and plows ahead in a quiet murmur, "Good because I told him it was fine and if you back out now he'll think you hate him."

Lily steals a glance over at James, who seems to sense her gaze and pauses his mini elbow war with Sirius and smiles, giving her a thumbs up. There are worse partners in the world.

The meeting doesn't last long, just basic outlining of the next few weeks, the first Hogsmeade visit (and necessary chaperoning duties), and then the official announcement of Lily's sentence as Duelling Club co-chair.

As the room clears out, Lily sneaks into the back where light refreshments had been laid out for the faculty members who managed to actually arrive before the meeting had begun. She's piling biscuits, tarts, and whatever else looks delicious on a little cloth serviette when Remus, Sirius, and James all descend at seemingly the same time.

James ruffles his hair and speaks first. "Alright, Evans?"

Sirius murmurs something she can't quite make out that earns him a scowl from James and a suppressed snort from Remus. "I really hope this isn't the beginning of a 'prank Lily' session. Because if it is, then I'll have to spend all that time teaching you a lesson. And I already have at least half a class worth of immature little prats who think they can match me."

"Big words, Evans," Sirius says, biting into a little finger sandwich.

"Don't start with me, Black. I've had enough of your little band of tricksters for the evening."

James throws a friendly arm around her shoulders and they wander out of the emptying classroom while McGonagall seems to look at them with something like endearment from behind her impeccably polished glasses. Which is a bit unnerving since Lily feels as if her cheeks have actually burst into flames at James' touch.

"Actually, we prefer marauders, if you don't mind," James corrects as the foursome ascend the stairs leading back to the main floor.

"Well whatever you call yourselves, you're a bunch of little manipulative sneaky arseholes," Lily grumbles, aiming a glare at Remus, "Who use iced buns in terrible ways."

Sirius high-fives Remus, "That was my idea. Softening you up. Thought ol' Remus here might be too principled in his old age."

Chuckling, James lets his arm drop, leaving Lily a bit cold. Which is definitely the only reason she shivers when his knuckles brush hers. He drags a finger along the back of her hand to get her attention and damn if he hasn't. Lily's breath catches at his nearness, his hazel eyes sparking with mischief. "Don't let Remus fool you. He's the best mischief maker of us - though Sirius will never admit it. In fact, Moony's the best because no one suspects him. It's a devious sort of skill he's got there. All mild mannered and then he pounces."

Lily laughs, waving as Remus and Sirius split off to hit up the House Elves for a snack. "Moony?"

James ruffles his hair again, "I uh - it's a nickname? Just an old joke - "

"Moon - oh my god," Lily cuts in, "Your super top secret nickname for your secret werewolf friend is Moony? Why not just call him Werewolf McWerewolfson?"

"Too long," James supplies, "So he told you? He doesn't like offering that up to just anyone."

"No one's ever said I was 'just anyone,'" Lily shoots back. "Also, you don't need to walk me back to my room."

"Mum says walking's good for my circulation."

Smiling, Lily threads her arm through his. "What else does Mum say?"

"That I'm a handsome, smart, loveable boy."

"I didn't take your Mum for a liar."

"Get out of here, Evans."

As they come to a halt, Lily kicks at the door jamb and grins. "This are my rooms so."

"Ah, I should get out," James concludes, his hand brushing along Lily's arm as they separate, kicking up goosebumps in its wake. "Didn't know you had it in you to be so rude."

"Didn't know you were such a baby," Lily teases, hand atop the cool wrought iron handle. She winks. "Goodnight, Potter."

"G'night Evans."

As the momentum of the semester kicks in, preparations for the first Hogsmeade - which mainly involves things like fretting over who goes with who and whether dungbombs will be confiscated - and the general push and pull of classes keep Lily busy. She's not had to hand out a detention yet, favoring disapproving speeches and disappointed looks to get her point across. But there's definitely been an uptick in note passing, whispers, and the like.

So when James slots in next to her at lunch and opens with, "Ready for our big debut?" Lily's a bit confused.

"For our - ?"

"Don't be coy with me, co-chair," James teases, grabbing a few half sandwiches on his plate and giving Lily a light elbow, "Tonight's duelling club."

"Oh - shite," Lily nearly drops her spoon into her chowder but it just droops a bit instead. "Any shot we postpone?"

"There's already over a dozen kids coming," James says, "I s'pose I could find someone else if you're busy."

"I just, time got away from me, I guess."

Remus leans in, swallowing down the crisp he'd just bit. "No good on alternates, everyone else is committed," Remus says, "Except Sirius."

"Aye, I just don't care," Sirius puts in.

James rolls his eyes. "Lily, ignore him. He thinks pretending not to care makes him seem badarse. Sirius Black is a softie who tutors first years in his spare time."

"Bald-faced lie, I carouse on the regular and drink all sorts of cheap liquor in the dungeons to pickle my liver."

"He and a couple of the wilder house elves sip wine and discuss literature," James murmurs, then louder, concedes to Sirius, "You're a right scoundrel, I'm sorry to have questioned you."

Lily stifles a chuckle and rises, "I should be off to class. I'll see you at half past, Potter. We can practice a bit."

Luckily, with a full class schedule and more than a few students worrying about upcoming midterm exams, Lily hasn't much time to fret over skipped duelling practices before she moved back to England or her knowledge that James is an experienced combatant. Or at least it seemed lucky, before it all came all at once in a wide breeching wave at quarter past eight as she wandered toward the Great Hall.

She'd skipped dinner, charming a few kindly house elves into slipping her some cold chicken and bread, and hid away in her rooms to needlessly edit her lesson plans for the upcoming week.

Now, she can't avoid it any longer, and finds herself slipping into the Great Hall where James has already overseen clearing the tables to the sides, leaving the aisle widened up the center. Plenty of room to follow standard duelling rules in pairs.

Ideally, she'd prefer to do this type of exercise in her sweats, but being a professor at an official school event means she's held to a slightly higher standard of dress. Never mind that duelling well requires athleticism like any sport. Including Quidditch; a stance she'd drunkenly argued many a time.

She's just reached the dais when James appears from the little antechamber in a deep, wine red jumper with a nerdy little collared shirt peeking out the neck and a pair of denim trousers that Lily really didn't need to see. It's disgusting how adorable she finds him, and what's worse, she finds it painfully enticing.

It's slightly mollifying that when Lily glances up, it seems James has been similarly occupied. Though her interest in his attire is more understandable, given he tends to wear standard wizarding robes while she's worn Muggle clothing almost exclusively since her arrival in Scotland. Yes, it's mollifying and more than a little gratifying.

Lily waits patiently as James slowly gathers himself, blinking owlishly behind his smudgy spectacles. He does get there, rolling his shoulders back and ruffling his hair as he lets their eyes connect. "Thought you might not show."

"An affront to my character, Mr Potter," Lily says loftily.

James sniffs. "It's Professor Potter, I'll have you know."

"Well, Professor Potter, shall we practice a bit?"

"Are you suggesting a fixed duel?"

Rolling her eyes, Lily saunters closer and pushes up on the edge of the Hufflepuff table. "No. I just think we'd best set some ground rules before a bunch of impressionable students with minimal control over their magic are in here, ready to learn exactly what we don't want to teach them."

"I think you grossly overestimate their level of attention after hours," James says, propping his hip against the table, wand held loosely in his hand. "Sounds to me like someone's afraid of losing."

"You know what, James? Let's not discuss." Lily grins dangerously and jabs his middle with the end of her wand.

"I changed my mind. You look like a chimera."

Laughter sounds from the Entrance Hall and Lily winks. "Too late."

"Write my mother, tell her I died well."

Rolling her eyes, Lily pushes away from the table and takes her place at the head of the aisle, James falling in beside her.

There's a mix of students, a few seventh years but the majority are younger students still unblemished by the terror of OWLs and very eager for the opportunity to use their wands outside class. This'll be the closest they can get to uncontrolled use of magic for a while.

Still, their first club meeting will strictly enforce the whole expelliarmus only rule.

Though not in her demonstration duel. James has a storm coming.

He welcomes the students with all his expected lilt and panache, a lot of impressive words and drama about the responsibility of aggressive magic. Somehow, Lily muses, he makes a pre-duel lecture on safety and rules seem exciting. No wonder the kids love he's got that little roll in his speech pattern that makes Lily's toes curl. Not that she thinks the students go that far in their devotion.

Except that little clotch of seventh years that have been ogling his bum for the last minute. On one hand, she can't really blame them but on the other he's their teacher and this could get into all kinds of out of hand.

Lily cuts in like they planned this, reviewing the ground rules for a civilized duel, before James sweeps his arms wide. "And now, how about a demonstration?"

A hush, impressive and somewhat suspect, falls over the room as the students claim places on the benches and perched atop the tables.

While Lily rolls her shoulders, James folds his sleeves back with a few dramatic flicks of his wrists and then eyes their waiting audience. "Keep back, we don't want anyone getting hit with a stray spell."

Excited chatter crops up and Lily bites back a smirk while James seems to preen a bit. Shame it's a restricted 'official' duel because she'd love a good old fashioned scrappy shot at him when he's peacocking.

"We'll start back to back, right Professor Evans?"

He's smirking. God she wants to win. And then maybe smack him. Or maybe snog him. It's very difficult.

Regardless, she's not about to let him best her, especially when she's got her whole muggleborn crusade going on. With a deep breath, Lily nods. "Right-o Professor Potter."

They count off - James shows off his mastery of languages by using a different one for each number. Something vaguely Slavic, then something Norse, Spanish, French - Lily zones out for a few because damn has the number seven ever sounded so sensual? And then finally they're at one, James goes with English for this one, and Lily's twisting and firing off a stunner wordlessly.

He deflects easily, like he's swatting away a fly, and Lily's heart pounds.

With a short step forward like he's a fencer, James twists a tight stinging hex that finds its mark on her bicep.

Lily's eyes flash dangerously and James' jaw flexes as they circle each other, tension running rampant.

In quick succession, Lily sends a stunner and a little fiery something she worked up in her spare time, singeing James' sleeve.

He gives her a slow clap for landing a blow, tipping his head in a bow. "Brava, Evans," then to their rapt audience, "It's always acceptable - and quite polite - to give your opponent credit where due."

Rolling her eyes, Lily stops their circuits and takes a step closer. James mirrors her movement and fires off another spell, which knocks her off her feet, though she keeps her wand in hand.

James offers her a hand up and Lily accepts the opportunity to land a stinging hex to his gut. James stumbles back, "Oi! Not very chivalrous."

"You're the Gryffindor," Lily chuckles, "And you were the one who didn't specify whether we were using Antiochian or Burgundian rules."

With an offended sniff, James resumes his post across their imaginary circle and waits. "Gryffindor traits are ones we should all aspire to have," that earns him some cheers and encouraging thuds on the tables, and more than a few groans and offended yelps. "Plus I don't think either school favors stabbing your opponent in the back when they're helping you."

Lily's brow quirks. "Well, first, it was your ribs, and second, it was hardly a stab."

And then after that, in a flurry of colors, James and Lily enter a dance that's almost choreographed in it's intricacy.

It's a little infuriating, how graceful and balletic James is in his movements. Quick and devastating in their accuracy so Lily's often barely able to deflect let alone deliver her own attacks.

But she does. Manage it that is. A hex slices the ends of her braid, a little shower of red fringe falling to the ground in a little cloud. She answers with a thrust of her own and a slice lands across James' cheek.

His eyes sharpen as they move, Lily's movements increasing in aggression as they somehow work their way closer. This has, at some point, become less of a duelling match with standard rules and more of a combat demonstration.

Which is why they somehow end up working in hand to hand combat, wands forgotten in the closeness.

But when Lily brings up her elbow to jab at James' chin, he parries the blow easily, landing a jab to her side. He grunts and Lily grins. "Now, Professor Potter and I have departed from the normal rules of duelling," she tries for a knee to his gut but only lands a glancing hit, "And moved on to combat techniques."

James does some complicated twist with his arm, wrapping it through LIly's so her back is brought against his front. Their chests rise and fall in near unison and James' breath brushes her ear when he continues her impromptu lecture, "Ideally, most of you will never have need for combat technique, but more than a few will end up joining the DMLE or even the Aurors."

Huffing, Lily swipes her foot back, linking it around James' ankle and bringing them collapsing to the floor. Lily on top, just how she likes it. Trying to ignore the dangerous look in James' eyes, though she can't seem to tear her gaze away, Lily adds, "And often, dark wizards and the like forget or never know the advantage of Muggle fighting techniques."

James' foot comes up to Lily's hip and sends her vaulting backward, her tailbone smarting as he rolls to his feet and she does the same. He brushes off his trousers and leaves his hands on his hips, fully in teacher mode. "In reality, it's not Muggle or magic - they're human fighting techniques. The weaknesses we exploit in a duel are aimed specifically at the human bits of us. Hand to hand combat does the same, and the training can be just as intense. Anyway - "

He turns, a spell at his fingertips, but Lily's just as prepared. The air crackles with magic, sparks flying about like catherine wheels, and sweat pools at Lily's temples. James swipes his sleeve over his brow and swings his wand arm in wide arc Lily would critique as an unnecessary opening of weakness.

But she's not his teacher at the moment, so she flicks a tight, powerful, expelliarmus at him and watches his wand fly from his hand just before she's knocked arse over kettle.

The students gasp and Lily pushes up on her elbows in time to see James has been struck from his feet too. She takes stock of any potential injuries and decides it seems to be mostly minor bumps and bruises from her spectacular fall. Her main comfort is James is probably similarly uncomfortable, and that she won.

Rising to her feet, Lily crosses the distance between her and James while the students seem torn about how exactly to react. So far it's mostly quiet murmuring and a few hesitant claps.

James is still on the ground so Lily offers him a hand up. He shuffles his feet a bit against the flagstones and reaches for her. "Nice to see you're a gracious loser."

Lily can't help the scoff that leaves her chest. "Excuse me?"

"Now, Evans, don't take offense. It's a genuine compliment," James defends, pushing himself to his feet when Lily's hand goes lax in her distraction. In the periphery of Lily's awareness, she knows the students' attention has been brought back into focus with laser like focus, but she's too caught up in that smug little grin James is shooting at her while he dusts off his bum.

God she hates that stupid arse. The man and the actual arse. That's right, not even that cute bum can save him now. "In what universe did you win?"

James folds his arms over his chest and saunters a bit closer. "The universe where duels go to the wizard or witch that sends their opponent sprawling and into complete disarray; which is all of them."

Lily grits her teeth and practically growls, "I fu-," she takes a breath, "I disarmed you first. Standard Duelling Regulations say the first witch or wizard to be disarmed is the loser."

Then, remembering herself, she gives the students her best Professor Evans smile. "Any questions?"

They mostly seem a bit dumbstruck except for a few fifth years elbowing each other until one gangly kid with coke bottle glasses and a pockmarked face raises his hand. Overall unoptimistic about the academic relevance of the impending question, Lily blows out a breath and gestures toward him. "Yes - Mister?"

He clears his throat and answers with a little squeak that's likely a product of puberty rather than fear, "Darnell. Are you - you two - "

A little third year Hufflepuff to Darnell's left rolls her eyes and murmurs, "They're definitely snogging, Darnell."

Oh God.

Before her previously unimagined worst fears can be recognized, James injects himself into the situation with a graceful combination of ease and don't mess with me, kid. "Yes, we were in fact restricting our duel to light offensive maneuvers rather than full combat. Generally, that type of spellwork is best left for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Darnell and his mates seem to go through all five stages at the complete and utter failure of their little plot to tease the professors and Lily enjoys their pouts a bit too much. And finds herself feeling a bit more chummy and forgiving toward James for averting that potential disaster.

All she needs is to be barely two months in and have rumors flying about a heated romance between professors. Not that she's living under the delusion that there won't be or aren't already rumors about her and every professor flying around the castle. At least they haven't come out to her face yet.

Yes, James Potter was a delusional arse who definitely lost. But as he begins pairing the students according to age, size, and relative skill, Lily thinks he's not all that bad.


The following Saturday dawns with an autumnal crispness to the air that leaves Lily desirous of a cozy sweater, a good book, and endless mugs of cocoa. Instead, she's coiling an overlong scarf around her throat, buttoning the chunky buttons of her felt coat, and swiping a few slices of buttery toast from the kitchens on her way to the Entrance Hall. It'll be a day of chaperoning overexcited third years eating entirely too many sweets and going crazy for butterbeer. As for the older students, they'll be less eager. At least in that particular sense. The terror they present is of the hormonal variety. Who knows how many bruised egos and broken love affairs will fill the dormitories come curfew.

But the day is bright, laughter fills the air, and even the birds seem to be in a chipper mood, so Lily can't help but be pulled along. The breeze is crisp and Lily tugs her scarf a little tighter around her neck as she crunches down the gravel walk toward Hogsmeade.

Her first few hours pass easily with nothing more than a few stern looks to keep her charges in hand. They seem content to merely purchase the instruments of mischief that can later be used to frustrate a certain perpetually angry caretaker.

After spending a fairly sizeable percentage of her gold on books to add to the already towering stack of 'to be read' titles at her bedside, Lily leaves Tomes and Scrolls behind and wanders toward the main square to stop in and see her previous landlady. Hopefully she's missed the lunch rush.

By the time Lily finds a table, most of the students have cleared out. It seems they're not eager to waste the day indoors when there are plenty of places to get up to no good - in whatever manner the individual prefers. She may be a bad chaperone for it, but so long as the kids aren't doing any property damage or causing injuries to themselves or others (physical or otherwise) it doesn't seem worth the damper on everyone's afternoon.

Still, she's keeping half an ear out while slowly picking her way through her fish and chips. Which is the only reason she'll own up to the way James' sudden arrival nearly surprising her out of her chair. He drops into the seat across from her with a frothy tankard of Butterbeer and glances at the conspicuously empty place a drink would normally rest. "Not drinking?"

Lily frowns, "I am - my order's about eighth in the queue at this juncture I'd say."

Lounging back in his chair - much to the delight of a few straggling fifth years who value Professor Potter's...academic expertise - James winks at Lily and drawls, "The troubles of an amateur."

"Oh and you're so cool, Mr. 'It's going to be too crowded I hate crowds'?"

"I enjoy crowds where they're meant to be - Quidditch games, rock concerts, fairgrounds - not quaint Scottish villages with a permanent population of less than fifty."

Lily snorts, "That's an exaggeration, you lame, lame old man."

That earns her a harrumph if she's ever heard one.

"You know, if you want to earn better defining terms, just tell me your secrets," Lily prods.

"Ha! I am not that easy."

Rolling her eyes, Lily rises to check on her drink, but James lays a hand on her arm. "Nah, I got yours already." He flicks his wand and another mug appears, fresh and foamy.

"Spit in it?" Lily asks, pulling the frothy drink closer but hesitating with the rim inches from her lips.

"Now why would I do that?"

"I dunno, maybe because I beat you and you're bitter."

James blinks, unimpressed, "It was a draw," Lily takes a sip and James continues, "No spit, just Veritaserum."

With a scoff, Lily takes another sip. "Sure Potter, and it was a draw because I couldn't destroy you in front of students. It would kill your intimidation factor."

"Intimidation?" James asks, distressed cracks appearing in his cheeky facade. If Lily was still in a 'be honest with yourself' mood she might say it was endearing or maybe cute.

Leaving that bit of introspection for later, or preferably never, Lily answers, "I've been told you're a bit scary."

"I - was it a fifth year?"

Lily hides a smirk. "Yeah."

"No. Yeah. I deserve that."

"Why?"

James takes a long drag of his Butterbeer and sits back, arms crossed over his chest. "Nuh uh, I'm not unburdening my soul's deepest secrets without mutual compensation."

Matching his movements, Lily quirks one brow and drawls, "I have no secrets."

His laugh comes as a loud almost yelp, forced and almost obnoxiously knowing. "A certain knight's portrait located between your quarters and the kitchens says otherwise - don't put that veritaserum to waste."

Gaze locking on his with intention, Lily drags her braid over one shoulder, fiddling with the end as she comes dangerously close to batting her lashes. Her voice is a low, flirtatious purr, "Well since I can say without hesitation that my favorite color is hazel because I've fallen in love with your eyes, I'm fairly certain you've not dosed me down with truth potion."

James harrumphs, and she's quickly learned him doing so is simply confirmation of her upper hand. And who is she to let that go? "Or Sirius did all the work in Advanced Potions so you could live up to your family name."

"Rude I'm excellent and Gryffindors never cheat. Chivalry and such. Also how did you know about Advanced Potions?"

To her everlasting shame, Lily actually flushes a little and can't quite manage to come up with a parry.

James' tease is as minimal as can be expected - maybe the whole chivalry bit is genuine - but he can't let it drop completely. "Checking up on me?"

Sniffing, Lily recovers and squares her shoulders. "Well sure, if you count helping Filch out to stock up on favors and finding you blew up four out of twelve cauldrons in October of your Seventh Year."

His grin is disgustingly flirtatious and she really should smack him. Or kiss him. "Reading my files late at night to fill your lonely hours?"

"More like weeping in the bath because a total train wreck of a human is molding the next generation of magic."

He laughs. "I'm training them to be amazing."

Lily fiddles with a half cold chip before popping it into her mouth and giving the subject a slight shift. "Did I hear correctly that you made a NEWT study guide for your Seventh Years?"

James looks genuinely bashful for maybe the first time and it's highly gratifying. "Uh - just some. Er- topics of particular interest."

Ah, Lily loves being on top. Ahem. "My sources say it had a fully defined terms index."

James groans and drops his head to the table. "I just want them to do well."

Patting his forearm, Lily says reasonably. "Then let them study."

"I just - "

"Give some practice tests - simulate the real thing. That's what I'm doing," Lily suggests.

"Yeah I don't think I can do that."

Lily eyes him, all guilty and hesitant. It's such fun poking and prodding her coworkers. "They're afraid of you! What do you do?"

Chatter in the pub has long since quieted, students tiring of gossip and easy chatter and renewed enough to descend upon eager shop owners with freshly stocked shelves. So when James laughs again, it rings through the quiet and Rosmerta sends them an endeared grin from her place behind the bartop.

He relaxes further. "Yeah this is Butterbeer so I have zero alcohol in my system right now. This is not a drunken sleepover."

Immediately, he flushes and Lily's eyes widen, barely able to formulate a response when Sirius saunters up behind James and drops his palms on James's shoulders. "What's this I hear about a drunken sleepover?"


Between classes and exams and another session of the duelling club to plan and host, the next fortnight passes so swiftly Lily nearly forgets to plan her costume for Hallowe'en. Which would be fine under normal circumstances, but she's got to have it ready at least by Thursday the 28th so she can wear it to all of her classes. It's one of her favorite parts of teaching Muggle Studies. Not Hallowe'en specifically (though she does love the whole dramatic affair) but the more general aspect of sharing the traditions and activities of the Muggle community that maybe get taken for granted by people existing in it, but are completely new and exciting to a large portion of her students.

On the 25th, she wakes with an intense need for the loo. It's only once she's...taking care of business that she realizes the whole costume issue is coming to imminent levels of relevance.

That jolts her to wakefulness the way only a forgotten and suddenly remembered responsibility does in the early morning light. Her pulse pounds and her trip to the bathroom is less relaxing than she'd have hoped when prising herself from the comfort of her toasty bed.

Puttering around her room, Lily manages to fill her time until breakfast will be mostly prepared, and wanders down to the kitchens where she's quickly handed a plate filled with french toast dusted with powdered sugar, bacon, and fruit salad.

She's about halfway through her stack of french toast when Sirius Black saunters in with that arrogant little lope only he can manage, and drapes himself across one of the broad benches that mirrors the long tables one floor up in the Great Hall.

It seems this is a regular enough occurrence because he waits even less time than she did for a steaming bowl of oatmeal with cinnamon and sliced strawberries strewn artfully over the top. The house elf - a sweet, wide eyed little thing - who delivers his meal seems to flush under Sirius' perpetually flirtatious grin before fluttering away.

"You're up early, Evans."

"Same to you, Black," Lily shoots back, "I didn't think you were capable of being conscious more than ten minutes before your first class."

He swallows another mouthful of cereal and sighs, "I am an international man of mystery."

Lily throws one leg over the bench and lifts another forkful of french toast to her lips. "Sure. Anyway, I'm here and not enjoying my late morning because of bloody Hallowe'en."

"Scared of the ghosts and goblins out and about?"

"There are literally always ghosts and goblins out and about," Lily smirks, "Don't let them hear you say that or you'll be tormented for all eternity."

"I was jarred awake by an overly enthusiastic messenger bird of some sort. My brother's on assignment somewhere tropical and sent me a pineapple to rub it in."

"I realized I don't have a costume for Hallowe'en."

A steaming cup of tea with two slim slices of lemon appears at Sirius' elbow and he takes a long draw. "You know I didn't take you for the type to worry this much."

Crunching down on a piece of bacon, Lily shrugs. "I don't. Except this isn't really about the costume. Some of these kids, they've never really seen Muggle culture. Not for real. It's a big responsibility."

"Just dress like a nerd - steal James' specs and you're set."

"But it needs to fit into my lesson plan - plus glasses do not a nerd make," Lily disagrees, swiping her hands on a napkin and rising from her seat, "You should know - James is about as jock as it gets, right?"

"Oh he was the nerdiest nerd of all, you poor, misguided witch."

Rolling her eyes, Lily rises and brings her dish to the wide wash basin where a scandalized house elf accepts it with just enough bowing and apologizing to make Lily feel supremely awful. She resists the urge to say thank you again, knowing the whole process will just repeat, and sends Sirius a salute from the portrait hole. "I'm off to shape young minds and then hit London for the afternoon."

"Have fun, Evans. Can't wait to see what you dream up."

He winks at her, all mischief and teasing, and it's probably in her best interest not to question exactly why.


Lily manages to drum up a last minute costume at a little shop in London and works it into her lesson plan. But to avoid too many questions and a lack of excitement upon entering the class, Lily dresses as usual for breakfast and the subsequent faculty meeting in anticipation of the Hallowe'en Feast over the weekend.

As they filter out and back to their normal schedules - the students had been treated to a late morning - Sirius inserted himself between James and Lily.

James elbows him. "You know, we were talking."

"About dumb shite, I'm sure," Sirius sighs, "Probably supremely nerdy and overall a snore. But you, lovely Lily, have something of mild interest to the student population and some of us too."

They wander a bit, though it becomes clear Sirius is shepherding them toward Lily's quarters. Which isn't that suspicious on its own, but Sirius is pretty much eternally worthy of suspicion.

"I have no idea what you must mean."

James snorts. "See I was on your side until whatever that was, Evans."

Shrugging, Lily extricates herself from Sirius' arm and waves to a few passing students before they reach her door. "I don't appreciate your tone, Potter. And I have no secrets I plan to reveal."

Sirius scoffs and pats James on the shoulder, who simply looks lost and more than a little disappointed as his friend ushers him away. Rolling her eyes, Lily waves and lets herself inside to put the finishing touches on her costume and finally dress.

The shop only had bits and pieces of costumes left this close to the holiday, but Lily found enough to put together something cohesive enough.

Settling the pointed little ears atop her head, Lily draws a few dark lines over her cheeks and switches out her wooly jumper and plaid skirt for her only black dress. Perhaps a bit slinky for class, but she's covered head to toe and it's nothing unprofessional.

Her first class takes to it well, fifth years who don't feel they're too 'adult' to dress up. After her lecture, Lily allotted time for questions and may have prepped a light arts and crafts plan to whip out depending on the reaction she got. In the end, she has to almost drag a few from the classroom when the period ends, assuring them that the gluesticks will dry and the masks will be ready to wear soon enough. The sixth years are a bit less open, though she does get a good discussion going about the way the muggle and magical communities perceive each other. And when a couple of little arseholes get too smug about muggles, she reminds them of a particularly terrible round of guesses for the use of a toaster oven.

As the final students clear from her classroom, Lily begins the long and sticky process of cleaning up from their artistic endeavors. She's just crawled beneath a desk to retrieve discarded construction paper when Potter's voice sounds from the far end of the room in a drawl. "Well you are just the talk of the school, Evans."

Startled, Lily manages to stand up into the tabletop and send the colored pencils rolling across the room.

James laughs. "No wands?"

With a sigh, Lily manages to crawl from beneath the desk and smooth her skirt back down over her black tights. "There's nothing wrong with getting a little messy when you clean up."

"That's exactly what - " James trails off and Lily turns around, ready to tease his poor comeback. Instead she finds him looking a bit glassy eyed like he's been hit with a stray Stupefy.

When she raises her brows in question, fists braces on her hips like the no-nonsense school marm she channels from time to time when Diedra Porter decides she's feeling particularly rebellious, James seems to grind back into gear.

"You're a cat."

Perhaps not fully into gear.

"Yeah, for class. Muggles dress up for - "

"Halloween," James finishes, eyes darting about bit helplessly as he ruffles his hair.

Lily smiles. "Right - I assume you and the boys haven't missed many chances for drama over the years."

"We - Remus. Yeah," James answers, absent. "Well I should - bye."

And then, in his oddest move yet, James disappears from sight without another word.

The real disappointment is when Lily finds herself robbed of the opportunity to investigate or at the very least tease him for the odd encounter at the Hallowe'en Feast.

Wanker.