July 11th, 1976

Lily wakes up extra-early on Sunday morning to find Potter before his mother finds the bloody robes in his trunk. She intends just to cast a quick Scourgify and go back to her room—she'd checked on Black after talking to Potter last night, but Black had been passed out soundly and much less bloodied up than Potter was, as Potter had promised—but something in the way Potter snores gives her pause. "Potter," she says gently, nudging his shoulder. He rolls over and stretches blearily, fumbling for his glasses. "How are you feeling?"

"Decent," he replies. She gives him a long, searching look, then goes to his trunk and start to unroll his robes.

"No pain? No soreness?" she presses, holding the robes up for him to see. "Because judging by the looks of these stains, it's worse than you're letting on."

Potter bites his lip, conflicted. "Maybe a little pain," he admits, wincing as he sits up—by which he means that, yes, it aches.

Lily tuts softly—she'd hoped to finish mending him now, but to no avail. "I don't know if you've recovered enough for me to perform any more magic on you," she says of the poorly healed cuts she'd meant to fix. "I'd do it when I see you this weekend, but it's a Muggle area, it's not safe…"

"This weekend?" He looks bewildered, even for this hour.

"Well, you didn't think I was going to go to Tuney's wedding alone, did you?"

It takes Potter a minute to process this (during which Lily cleans the robes and tucks them neatly back into the trunk). "But aren't you going with Remus?"

"I… not anymore. After what I overheard? I don't want to be anywhere near him. I haven't told him yet, but I will."

She hasn't really thought through how she's going to let Lupin down without bringing up his conversation with Potter and Pettigrew, which is unfortunate because the last thing she wants to talk to Lupin about is his conversation with Potter and Pettigrew. "I know it's a little weird, you coming with me when it was supposed to be one of your best mates instead. I'd understand if you don't want to go."

"No, I—of course I'll go," says Potter. "I just wasn't expecting that, at all, is all." He sits up properly, the covers falling around him, and glances down. "You changed my clothes? You undressed me?"

"I wasn't just going to let you sleep in soiled robes, was I? What if your mother found you before I did?" she argues, pushing him back down. "Go back to bed, Potter, you'll need to get your rest now so you can say goodbye properly in a few hours."

"Why'd you wake me up now, then?" mutters Potter, but he reluctantly complies, following her with his eyes. "Wait—don't go yet."

Sighing, she sits on the bed with him, slumping her shoulders. "You're quite the handful, Potter."

"Same to you, Red," he says, ruffling his hair. It doesn't quite have the intended effect, as he smarts with the effort to raise his arm. "So tell me about this wedding—you said it's for your sister, Petunia?"

Lily glares at him but softens when something in his eyes tells her he needs this. "Tuney, yeah. And her whale of a fiancé, Vernon Dursley… you'll love him, I imagine, he can't stand magic…"

In the next six hours, she takes a short nap, cleans out her guestroom, says goodbye to the Potters (Mrs. Potter kisses her cheek and makes her promise to write), and returns to the McKinnons' house to find Marlene fiery at her arrival. "You decided to stay the weekend with the bloke and didn't even tell me first?" she demands, hands on her hips, the moment Lily steps out of the fireplace.

"I Flooed in to tell you! Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to only send your head over?" she says, marching down the hall to their shared room. Marlene tails her, wagging a finger.

"Yeah, after you'd agreed," Marlene points out. "Some mate you are, staying the weekend with your love interest and not telling me…"

Lily throws her knapsack at her. Marlene dodges it, shrieking. "Potter's not my love interest."

"Like hell he isn't," she says but doesn't further pursue this line of questioning. Instead, she asks, "So how was it? Did you bond?"

Lily shakes her head, not wanting to mention the drama. "I read; he popped in occasionally. I didn't see much of Black. Pettigrew and Lupin both came around on Friday. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" she adds.

"O.W.L. results. I'll get yours…" says Marlene offhand, meandering into the kitchen (Lily takes the opportunity to retrieve her knapsack and start unpacking what little she'd brought to Potter's). Following a series of sifting noises, Marlene emerges—Lily's stomach promptly clenches up. "It says they'll send out booklists in August for the classes we qualify for, and then we can buy books for whichever ones we want to continue in. Here—" and she hands Lily an envelope bearing an unbroken Hogwarts crest.

She tosses aside the empty knapsack and opens the envelope, her hands trembling. "Did Herbology go all right for you?" she asks to divert Marlene's attention, unfolding the letter.

"Yes!" Marlene says, delighted. "An A. I got an E in Astronomy and an A in Care of Magical Creatures, but I don't need to continue with those—Ps in Arithmancy and History of Magic, but that's to be expected—"

Relief washes over her as Lily skims through the results. "I got an E in McGonagall's; I can take N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration!"

"Me, too—that's marvelous, Lily!" says Marlene, knowing of Lily's difficulties with the subject. "Os in Potions and Charms, right?"

"And in History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts," she confirms. She's surprised herself with this one—she hadn't thought herself much of a dueler before the exam. "Any for you?"

Marlene nods. "Defense also, and Muggle Studies—but I'm dropping that, too; I've learned enough to get by with Muggles when I need to. What are you taking? I'm doing Defense, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Herbology—just the five I'll need for Auror training."

"Seven. I'm dropping Divination, Astronomy, and Herbology—sorry," she adds, knowing how much Marlene hates the latter of the three. "So I'm taking Potions, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic—the Os—"

"I can't believe you got an O in History… how can you learn in that class with Binns teaching?" she cuts in.

"I want to go into law, remember? I've got to stay on top of my wizarding knowledge, especially internationally," Lily reminds her. "And then Tranfiguration, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes—all Es."

Marlene rolls her eyes melodramatically. "Did you even flunk one exam? Get a single A? Figures…" she concludes following Lily's pause.

"Hey—I took Divination, remember? I got an A in that," she says defensively. "It's not like you should be proud that you failed two subjects…"

"Oh, shut it," says Marlene. "I sent out owls to the girls—Mare bombed literally half hers, and Em's only O was in Divination, which goes without saying, really."

Lily raises her eyebrows. "Mary did poorly? What's she taking next year?"

"Arithmancy, Defense, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures," replies Marlene promptly. "The last two were obvious—she's going to be a wizarding naturalist, she said—but I'll never understand why she's keeping on with Arithmancy."

"So all of us are taking Defense Against the Dark Arts, then," she presumes, and Marlene nods. It's a difficult subject—Mary in particular is wretched at it—but in these times, it's scarier not to learn to defend oneself than to risk failing a N.E.W.T. "When will we get our books, then? I know we were all going to go shopping together…"

Marlene shrugs. "Like I said, booklists don't come out until August, so we have a while to wait still. I was thinking of getting us all together at my place this weekend, though—"

"Can't; that's the wedding," Lily declines. "Potter and I will both be gone—we're leaving for my house on Thursday."

"Jay? I thought…" Marlene trails off, batting her overlong bangs out of her eyes.

Lily recalls, suddenly, that everyone thinks she's going with Lupin. "Remus couldn't make it in the end—I think the mental image of Vernon might have scared him off—Potter was the obvious second choice," she says hastily.

There's something funny about the way Marlene's smiling at her, but Lily lets it go for now. "He'll be staying at your place the whole weekend?"

"Yeah. The wedding's on Sunday, but we have to help prepare first—obligatory family responsibilities, you know, even though I'm not formally invited… well, Mum says I am, but Tuney wouldn't send out an invitation, anyway." She lobs the O.W.L. results onto a nightstand and collapses on her cot, stretching. "I should call Dad to let him know I'm bringing a guest; he and Mum are convinced I'm going to make up with Severus and invite him, I reckon…"

"You do that," agrees Marlene fervently. "Phone's in the kitchen."

"I know—your mum bought it for me, remember?"

She rolls her eyes as Lily stretches and gets up. "Smart aleck. Honestly, four Outstanding O.W.L.s…"

xx

Thursday is coming sooner than Lily would like, not because she's dreading seeing Potter again but because she knows she won't be coming back to the McKinnons' after Tuney's wedding. Neither she nor Marlene brings it up to the other, but Marlene doesn't raise questions when she finds Lily packing her trunk, and Lily refrains from commenting that the Gryffindor gathering Marlene puts together on Wednesday feels an awful lot like a going-away party. Lily appreciates the (unvoiced) sentiment, but it's still fairly awkward, especially between her and the boys: Pettigrew tries—unsuccessfully—to get Potter to avoid her, Black glares when he thinks she's not looking, and Lupin…

She manages to get him alone in the kitchen after they eat. "Look, I, um—I heard what you and Pettigrew said about me to Potter the other day. About me and Severus messing around with black magic."

What little color he has in his cheeks drains away. "Lily, I didn't mean… I was just mad at James for, uh, for wanting to tell you about—about me. I don't think that you—"

"I don't want to talk about it," says Lily quickly. "I just—I don't think it's the best idea for you to come over tomorrow and spend all that time together this weekend."

"Lily—"

"Not now, okay? Let's just get through this. Please?"

She keeps close by Potter and Marlene, for the most part. It's funny how they've come to be Lily's closest friends this past month, not that "closest" says much these days; she wouldn't have pegged them as her type. Indeed, she's gotten to know them more because of proximity than anything, not that a lack thereof would have stopped Potter. Spending so much time with Marlene, though, makes Lily realize how far from the other Gryffindors she drifted by befriending Severus—she didn't know Marlene lives in Scotland, she didn't notice Marlene's relationship with Black that seems so obvious now, she didn't even know that Marlene has a stepfather…

The morning of her departure, she Flooes to Potter's after her fix of Common Welsh Greens cereal and a quick, painless goodbye from the McKinnons and Marlene, who makes her promise to write weekly and come see her after the wedding. Helene's Manor is no less impressive than the last time Lily stayed there, but to her surprise and good fortune, she comes out at the living room fireplace this time, where Mrs. Potter is waiting to Side-Along-Apparate Lily to her house (which, of course, is not connected to the Floo Network). "I'm so glad you're taking James with you," Mrs. Potter tells her, pulling her into an embrace despite not knowing her well. "He's been so looking forward to this all week—talks about it nonstop—"

To Lily's great surprise, Potter blushes. "Can we go, Mum?" he asks impatiently, heaving his trunk across the room towards them. "I don't want to keep the Evanses waiting long."

"Yes, of course, dear," says his mother unhurriedly. "If you'll both just grab my arm and keep a tight hold on your trunks…"

After a painful sensation of compression, they appear in Lily's kitchen: Apparating outside would have been too suspicious, given her Muggle neighbors. It's a small house—just one story high, with three bedrooms and only one full bathroom—but Potter doesn't seem to mind, remarking in her ear, "Cozy place you have, Red." She rolls her eyes but thanks him nonetheless: he tends to seem insufferable, but he means well, Lily knows that now.

Only a few seconds after the incoming crack, Mum rushes in to greet them; her white-blonde hair is even lighter with fresh highlights for the occasion, Lily notices immediately. "Dorea! How lovely to see you again—it was such a joy meeting you the other day." Just as she's turning to ask Potter about this, he explains under his breath: his mum flew to Lily's house a few days ago so that she'd be familiar enough with the premises to Apparate here. "And you must be James? A pleasure to meet you as well—I've heard such wonderful things about you."

"It's good to meet you, too, Mrs. Evans," Potter says, stifling a laugh—they both know that Mum certainly has not heard wonderful things about him, at least not from Lily. "You must be proud of Lily—she's a brilliant witch."

"Lily?" Mum turns a critical eye on her, surveying with evident displeasure her oily face, tangled hair, and slouched shoulders. "Yes, absolutely—a witch in the family, think of it—though it doesn't do for her to let herself go like this…"

There's a brief, uncomfortable pause as Lily stares Mum down, as though daring her to find fault in her disregard for posture or cosmetics. Finally, Potter broaches the silence, his face reddening again, presumably this time with anger: "Not that it's any of my business, but if you tilt your head a little to the left and squint—" ("James," Mrs. Potter reprimands him sharply) "—if you ask me, I think she's beautiful."

Lily flushes scarlet but stiffly maintains her glare. Mum's delight at meeting Potter dissolves somewhat, and she rounds on him next, saying, "Yes, well, good though your intentions may be, you lack the feminine view necessary to understand this. It's no matter to you that my daughter hasn't been able to find a proper suitor with her complexion—"

"Right, because you had such good judgment pushing Snivellus on her all these years," says Potter hotly.

Sensing the escalating tensions, Mrs. Potter interrupts, "Well, I'd best be off, dears, can't have the hospital waiting on me. I'll come pick you up on Monday morning, all right, James?" Mum deflates while Mrs. Potter kisses her son's cheek and hugs Lily in parting; by the time it's just the three of them, the impending row looks to have been averted.

"Well, don't just stand there gawking at each other, you two," says Mum, flustered (though it's just Lily gawking at Potter, who's intent on evil-eyeing Mum). "Petunia! Pet, honey, come in here and greet your sister and her guest!"

Lily cringes as Tuney reluctantly sidles into the kitchen. For a blushing bride-to-be, she looks miserable—her horse-like face is contorted into a grimace, and she spares no words for Lily, offering Potter only a simple, "Nice to meet you." Mum knows not to push it—the last thing she appears to need is for Potter to start attacking Tuney, too, for criticizing magic.

"All right, all right, enough of that," decides Mum, much to Lily's relief. "Petunia and I have to get to a bridesmaids dress fitting, so I suppose the two of you should pick out formalwear for the big day… your dad can take you when he's ready, Lily, he's in the shower at the moment. Be home by five for dinner, you hear?" Before Lily has a chance to speak for either of them, Mum's left the kitchen with Tuney right on her tail, clipping her hair up and off her neck and whispering something in Tuney's ear.

Lily just nods and pulls Potter out into the hall. "My room's this way," she says, inclining her head.

"Is she always like that?" he asks hoarsely, following her down a narrow hall. She nudges open the first door on the left with her toes; it swings open to reveal her bedroom, wallpapered Gryffindor maroon and gold. "Love the color scheme, by the way."

"Who, Tuney? No, she's usually a lot crabbier, actually," Lily says lightly, pulling out her desk chair for him. "And thanks—my parents decorated it for me after I was Sorted, as a coming-home surprise at Christmas," she adds of his latter remark.

Potter shakes his head, scratching his head and sitting down. "Your mum. She's so… so…" He grasps silently for words, then gives up and gapes at Lily, open-mouthed.

"Oh, Mum? Usually she's like that, yes," she confirms, launching herself onto her bed. "Tuney gets her tastes from her—not that she's quite so, er, high-strung about anything. She's more of a sulker, you know."

"Please tell me you take after your father," says Potter stubbornly, crossing his arms. "You deserve at least one decent relative."

She laughs nervously. "I guess you could say I take after Dad. My family's all right, though—my cousins are brilliant, you'll see why in a few days."

"On your dad's side?" he assumes.

"On both sides," Lily laughs, tucking her hair behind her ear.

There's a bit of a pause as Potter looks around, taking in the plush carpet and the crack in the window, and looks like he's on the verge of saying something dangerous. Eventually, he says in a rush, "Wouldn't Snape have a problem with this place?"

Lily replies quickly, "He's never been in my bedroom, actually—we used to hang out in my backyard, or sometimes the kitchen. I didn't go to his house much; his parents fight." He seems to accept this, and there's another long silence. "Thanks for what you said back there," she stammers, as Potter looks like he's run out of words.

He doesn't answer—just looks at her pensively for a long moment, inches his chair forward, and rests his hand on her cheek. She shivers involuntarily but doesn't recoil; Potter smiles and closes his eyes. "You're welcome," he says finally, pulling back his hand—but he stays with his chair legs touching her bed, resting his arms on the duvet so that he's level with her. After a moment, he brushes her hair behind her ear and asks softly, "How are you?"

"I'm all right," Lily says, unsure of where this is headed. "And you?"

"I—"

A sharp knock at the door cuts Potter off, and they both straighten up, as if afraid to be caught so close together. "Come in," Lily invites, drawing her knees up to her chest.

The door creaks as Dad pushes it open. He's tall and balding, but there's a youthful spark that hasn't quite left his blue-grey eyes. "C'mon, Lil, your mother's going to go into conniptions if she comes home to find that you haven't left to pick out a dress yet. So you're James, then?"

"James Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Evans," says Potter promptly, rising and extending a hand. Dad shakes it, looking satisfied. "I would have brought a tux, but wizards wear dress robes, not suits…"

"Don't worry about it," says Dad airily. "Even if you brought one, Rosie probably wouldn't have approved of it… she's a certain sort, Rose, she really is." He grins and beckons them out of the room. "Ready to go?"

Potter waits, glancing between himself and Lily. "I look passable?"

Dad doesn't know what to say to this, but Lily glances over his appropriately Muggle clothing—a basic red T-shirt and jeans. "You're perfect," she assures him, and she catches the beam that spreads over his face before they leave.

Potter and Dad get along surprisingly well, not that she appreciates their combined teasing as she tries on dress after dress. Dad is content just to laugh and tell her she looks ridiculous, but Potter is unafraid to hide his affections in front of Lily's father, constantly commenting on her "radiant beauty" and even deigning to stoop and kiss her hand once (at which point she flinches and calls him an arrogant toerag—she'd forgotten how much she enjoys using that particular insult on him).

Eventually, she settles on a simple emerald dress and black heels—plain but comfortable, just as she like it. Dad warns her that Mum won't be happy with her choice when she sees her on Sunday, but Potter disagrees, murmuring in her ear before she can slip back into the fitting rooms, "You look lovely, Red." She blushes and thanks him, just catching her breath for a moment when she retreats behind the changing room door—pesky though he may be, she's still not used to all the compliments.

Somehow, it takes even longer for Potter to pick out a tuxedo. Lily hadn't expected him to be so selective—with every suit, it seems, he takes offense at the exact shade of the collar or length of the cuffs. When he's finally settled on a solid black number, he vanishes into the tie racks with Dad, still debating whether pinstripes should be legal (Potter claims not, while Dad intends to wear them to the wedding); she shakes her head at their retreating figures and gets in line at the checkout.

After what feels like forever, they pay—Dad reluctantly allows Potter to pay for both their outfits, much to Lily's chagrin. The drive back is equally painful for her as Potter bonds with her father, and by the time she gets out of the car, Dad's muttering in her ear, "Why haven't you ever brought him home before?"

"It's complicated," she says with finality, heaving her purchases into her arms and kicking the door shut behind her. And indeed it is—hadn't she on-and-off hated him just over a month ago?

The rest of the day isn't nearly as strained as Lily had feared. Though Potter and Mum are at underlying odds and Tuney wants nothing to do with either of the wizards, Dad's able to smooth over the tensions, peacemaker that he is. It only gets uncomfortable when nighttime comes: there isn't a spare bedroom, and Potter hadn't brought a sleeping bag.

"Lily, give James your room," instructs Mum, and there's a purse to her lips that shows she won't take no for an answer.

Potter gives Lily a quick glance and then tells Mum, "That's really not necessary, Mrs. Evans, I'll just sleep on the couch—"

"You're a guest in our home, James, and I won't have you sleeping in the living room like a schoolgirl friend of Petunia's," says Mum firmly. "Lily, get your pajamas so James can go to bed, and for God's sake, take a bath, you look like you haven't showered in days."

"Right, because she'd rather look unnaturally polished and proper—" Potter starts sullenly.

"And what right do you have to tell me how to raise my daughter?" Mum rounds on him. At the late hour, she's more disheveled than normal: her mussed hair has half fallen out of the clip, and worry lines are visible beneath her smudged powder. "All day, I have done nothing but accommodate you—"

Dad rests a hand on Mum's shoulder. "Calm down, Rosie, he doesn't mean any harm," he murmurs, but neither Mum nor Potter is having any of it.

"Actually, you've done nothing but make backhanded remarks about how much you disapprove of your daughter," he says with conviction, "and you take advantage of her tolerance of it to abuse her even further. Just because she's not a carbon-copy of Petunia—"

"You leave Pet out of this!" Mum demands, her hands on her hips. "I am Lily's mother, and it would certainly do her some good to take my advice every once in a while. Walking around looking positively uncivilized, her nose always in a book, never bringing anyone around but Severus—it wouldn't kill her to be ladylike every once in a while."

Tuney turns up her nose and tugs lightly on Mum's elbow. "Don't bother, Mum. She's a freak, not a lady—"

"You say that now," snaps Potter, "but she has more class than either of you could ever dream of. You talk about Lily like she's wasting her potential, probably because I doubt she's ever been able to confide in you about how hard her life is—you try being alienated by all your roommates because they don't like your best friend, or being the brightest witch in your year and still not making prefect because you're not goody-two-shoes enough, or having to walk through the hallways and being sworn at for your parentage every time you turn a corner—"

Her face fast reddening, Lily interrupts, "That's enough for one night." Potter takes a deep breath and doesn't stop fuming, but he heeds her warning and says nothing more. Mum looks dangerously indignant and stalks off with Tuney; Dad just blinks at the both of them, then sighs and runs off to find Mum and mollify her. Sighing heavily, Lily guides Potter into her bedroom by the arm, murmuring, "In here."

He looks ready to burst. "How do you live like this?" he says outright, slouching against the closed door. "How do you take the criticism every day…?"

She's tempted to ask why he cares, but she knows better than to question her only friend in the house (Dad, considering that he married Mum, is neutral territory). "It's all right. I usually stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, so it's just in the summer when I see them, and I have—had—Severus then."

"It's like you don't even realize how bad you have it," sulks Potter, slumping to the floor in a worn, defeated manner. Lily joins him, their shoulders brushing. "I almost can't blame you for having liked him so much; the alternative isn't much better, if you'd just take a listen around the rumor mill every so often…"

"I gathered," she says darkly, referring to Lupin and Pettigrew's stunt back at the Manor. "Look, Potter—I don't want to be a martyr."

He faces her, squinting in the light of the waning moon. "When did I ever martyr you?"

Lily props her arms up on her knees. "Well—not a martyr, exactly. You just put me on this pedestal like I'm… well, you asked how I take it: it's by not fixating on it. And I appreciate the support around here, I really do—" Potter perks up and grins at her for this "—but I don't need pity, and I don't want you fighting any battles for me."

"If you won't, someone ought to," he protests meekly, but he lets it go as she shakes her head and smiles.

Lily gets up, crossing to her trunk. "If you'll excuse me, I have a shower to take," she says cheerfully, grabbing a pair of pajamas and a towel, "unless you want something else to fight my mum on." He laughs heartily and stands to let her pass through the doorway, but before she opens it to leave, she adds, "Potter—thank you."

"Any time, Red," Potter vows, smiling. There's a fresh spring in her step as she walks down the hall to the bathroom, and not even passing a bitter-looking Tuney on the way down dampens it.

The next few days pass without much event. Tuney's fiancé, Vernon, pops in and out—never staying for longer than an hour, much to Lily's relief; there's enough animosity in the house between Potter, Mum, and Tuney without adding Vernon's hatred of magic into the mix. Though Potter is regularly on the verge of an outburst with Mum, he keeps his defiance in check—only because Lily's made it clear that she doesn't want any fighting on her behalf, she's sure. Dad alone is as easygoing as always, cracking jokes and keeping the mood light: without his peacemaking, Mum and Potter would indisputably come to a head sooner or later.

Somehow, though, they don't, and they're somehow still on speaking terms by Saturday evening. "We'd best be off to the dress rehearsal," says Mum, stretching, after lunch. "We're going out with the bridesmaids' families after, Lily, so we'll be a few hours… Pet, you're leaving for your bachelorette party right after?"

Tuney nods, folding her hands in her lap. "Linda says that everything's settled—we're all going to drive in her car."

"All right," says Mum placidly. "Behave yourself, Lily." Potter bristles but says nothing.

"That goes for you, too, James," says Dad cheerfully.

Lily blushes, but Potter just grins. "Of course, Mr. Evans. Good luck," he pleasantly wishes Tuney, and she nods, mumbling thanks—it may be the most polite interaction Lily's seen between the pair in the past three days.

They leave within the next few minutes—Mum rounds up Dad and Tuney on the way out much like a teacher gathers her preschoolers before crossing a busy street—leaving Lily fully alone with Potter for the first time since the full moon. It takes them a minute to get used to the freedom of it—then Potter is quick to break the ice. "All Outstanding marks on your O.W.L.s, then, Red?"

She gives an ironic little laugh. "Only four out of ten, sorry to say."

Potter raises an eyebrow. "And they call you a nerd…"

She sinks into her seat, sighing. "How do you do that?" she says with exasperation, shutting her eyes tight.

"Do what?" he replies, smiling innocently at her when Lily glances at him again.

She waves a hand vaguely in his direction. "Poke fun at me for living out of the library and stressing about Acceptable marks, but still make me feel like I'm normal when I'm around you."

He chooses not to comment on her sudden depth, instead responding, "I'm glad I make you feel normal." Lily laughs again, feeling suddenly amiable, and gets up. "Where are you going?"

"You think I'm going to trip all over your feet dancing at the reception tomorrow because I'm not used to wearing high heels?" She ignores Potter's surprised expression and pulls him to his feet. "Come on, get up, get changed—where did you leave the dress shoes you brought with you?…"

Ten minutes later, she emerges from the bathroom, dress and all, to meet him—he's clicking his heels and ruffling his hair, seemingly with impatience or anxiety, and it hits her right then that maybe his preoccupation with his hair doesn't stem from arrogance. "Took you long enough," he mumbles, looking Lily over—she realizes self-consciously that the dress is a bit form-fitting, compared to her robes or usual Muggle apparel. "You're pretty."

"Thanks… er…" She glances at his crisp new tuxedo and improperly knotted tie, then meets his eyes. "You look nice yourself," she tells him, and for once, she means this.

"No," Potter says, surprising me, "you don't look pretty—well, you do look pretty, but—I meant that you are pretty. Every day. Whether or not your mum thinks you've let yourself go." He wears a genuine smile and extends a hand. "Care to dance?"

Lily doesn't know what to say to this—any of this—so she just nods and takes his hand, letting him pull her down the hall and into the living room. He's pushed all the furniture against the walls, she realizes, leaving a sizable space in the center of the floor; the lights are off and the shades pulled, shrouding the room in evening light, even though it's barely two o'clock.

It's nothing like their fast dances at the concert. They practice at first—Lily tripping in her shoes and nearly knocking them both over at first before they finally find a rhythm—but then they slip out of formality, her arms both around his neck, his voice low in her ear. "I knew you could dance, Red, but you scared me for a while back there—I didn't think you could pull it off in heels."

"People surprise you every day," she says, revolving on the spot. "For instance, I didn't think you had it in you to be a decent human being until recently."

"Proved you wrong on that one, didn't I?" chuckles Potter. He squeezes her middle for a moment in something like a hug, then loosens his grip. "I'm glad I've proven my humanity to you, in any case."

She can't say she's surprised when he leans in and kisses her cheek, but she still chides lightly, "Don't push your luck, Potter."

His laughter follows her into the kitchen as the telephone starts to ring. Idly wondering whether Marlene will ever be willing to use hers, Lily answers it with a cheerful, "Hello?"

Something shifts in her mind when she hears the words that follow, and she stands there alone long after the conversation is over. A piece of her notices Potter step in, set the phone she dropped back in its cradle, and gently ask what's happened.

"Car crash," she says, her throat dry. "Tuney was with the bridesmaids, thank God… They said it was painless, for both of them."

Potter freezes midway through rumpling his hair—it would have looked comical just a few minutes ago. "Lily, I'm—"

Saving him the trouble of articulating an apology, Lily buries her face in his just-bought suit jacket and sobs.

xx

END OF PART ONE