Thanks to all that reviewed.  BTW, for the last 22 chapters and all that lie ahead, the good old disclaimer comes in—the one that every single reader knows by heart and says that the characters created by J.K. Rowling are hers, yah-dee-dah, but the plot is mine, and trust me, I will find out where you live if you steal it…

On a happier note, here's some more of the story.  Thanks all 12 people that reviewed!

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When they arrived at the restaurant, even in her detached state, Lily couldn't help but wonder at the beautiful surroundings. The ceiling was covered with black velvet and dotted everywhere with stars, and the carpet was a thick scarlet. The entrance portals were guarded by two stone dragons, and the walls at either side of the gold-enscribed door were huge fish tanks, with coral reefs and water plants and tropical fish swimming around. The waitress that greeted them was dressed in an immaculate kimono, scarlet, embroidered all over with gold thread. Her hair was gathered away from her face and pulled back in a sort of rope-like twist, and through it she had put black chopsticks with gold lettering on them. And the table she led them to, after bowing low, was almost breathtaking.
If Lily hadn't seen the Malfoy's mansion and Eva's house beforehand, she would have been breathless. It was an enclosed booth; the walls were draped with painted silk scrolls and red silk curtains–the ceiling was the same black with stars. The table was covered with a creamy white cloth placed over a scarlet one, and the scarlet showed through. The plates on the table were fine china with blue paintings done by hand, and the chopsticks lying next to every place were of the same china with blue characters on it. The cup for tea was of the same eggshell-like china, as was the beautiful steaming teapot in the center. Rather nervous, and praying she wouldn't break anything, Lily took her place between the two boys. They helped her order, and once the waitress had brought hot, but not too hot soup and given each person a small bowl, they started to talk. Mrs. Malfoy was smiling slightly.
"So, Lily, you like this place?"
"Do I like this place? It's–it's–I don't know what to say. It's amazing!"
She nodded. "It's one of the most expensive places in the Alley maze. And you can obviously see why!"
"Of course I can–wait–the Alley maze?"
Mrs. Malfoy frowned slightly. "Well, Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, Fraeden Square, Madraiden Place, Firestream Lane…well, you know. At least, you should."
"Oh, that." Lily nodded quickly and swallowed the rest of her soup. "Of course I know about them. It's just–it's just that my family calls them the Alley Divisions." Quickly shooting a questioning and half-frightened glance at Severus and Lucius to see if her cover had gone over well, she received two relieved approbations. She breathed more normally and picked up her chopsticks for the well-seasoned steamed rice.
They left the restaurant an hour and a half later, and Lily had been terribly thankful when she saw the bill and knew that Mr. Malfoy was paying for her. Fifty Galleons per person! Yeah, it was the most expensive restaurant around here!
When they got back home, Lily quickly changed into her black nightgown and slipped between the comforters. Someone had graciously slipped a hot-water bottle between the blankets, so she warmed up quickly after the chilly night air. Then her thoughts drifted back to her mother. Her first memory of her…they were sitting on a balcony, and her mother was doing her hair. She had seen one of her friends down in the street and had jumped up, making her mother yank her hair.
The day she got her letter for Hogwarts.
Her last birthday and the cake her mother baked.
The smiles on her mother's face when Lily stepped off of the train.
Her mother, sitting in an armchair, crocheting a tiny sweater for that baby that never came.
Buying her fencing equipment. Taking her to practice. Watching Gone with the Wind and drinking hot cocoa with a touch of hazelnut. Reading Agatha Christie books and eating pretzels. Picking wildflowers in the field just beyond that building site near their house. Riding the horses that were at the nearby college's equitation stables. Shopping for dishes after Lily had broken the old set. Doing…oh, hundreds of things, hundreds of things Lily seriously doubted she would ever do again. She fell asleep, and if anyone had come in, they would have been crying at the pained expression her face held even in her sleep.
The next morning, Severus walked into the room first. He drew aside the curtains at the window and then at the four-poster, knowing that if she were left alone she'd torture herself with thoughts of her mother.
"Lily! Wake up!"
She shot straight up in bed. "Huh? What? Oh, it's you. Hi." She flopped back onto her pillow.
"Come on! We're going to Diagon Alley today. Fortescue's got some new ice cream in. Wonderful day outside. Practically seventy degrees already, and it isn't ten yet. Come on, outta bed!" He pulled the covers off of her, and, expecting to shiver, she pulled her nightgown over her feet.
"Wh–Whoa! It really is seventy degrees outside!" She pulled the nightgown off of her arms, where it clung to her skin damply.
"'Course it is. You up for ice cream?"
Lily shrugged. "Sure, whatever. Go away."
"'Scuse you?"
"If you want me to go for ice cream, you'd better expect me to go there dressed. And I'm not changing in front of you. Go away."
"Oh, come on, why not? I think Lucius has an old ducky bathrobe you can wear–"
"SEVERUS YOU WERE TO KEEP SHUT ABOUT THAT BATHROBE!"
"I told you he did. Whatcha gonna wear?"
"Oh…" Lily shrugged and slipped off of the mattress. "Anything that's clean."
"Have it your way. You might want to wear something that's cool, though, because it's gonna be hot as–as–"
"As what?"
"As your temper. Come on. I'm leaving, you get dressed." He suited the action to the word and left her to do the same.
She did so, quickly, in a black shirt; short-sleeved, and long dark pants. Lily wasn't feeling up to dressing brightly after she had received the news about her mother, so she picked out her darkest things, took off every bit of jewelry, and let her hair hang the way it had the other night. When she inspected her face in the mirror, it was still white and drawn, and her cheekbones were more prominent than ever. She hadn't cried yet, thinking with an absurd self-made superstition that if she did, her mother would die. Keeping back her tears took no effort at all, surprisingly, and, after turning away from the mirror abruptly, she took her purse out of her trunk and walked downstairs.

Severus and Lucius were waiting for her there. Thankfully, they showed no sign of surprise at the way she looked, which was, to say the least, terrible. Severus simply took her arm, which was shaking slightly, and escorted her to the great fire to the left of the stairways. He took a pinch of green powder from a silver basin, threw it into the roaring flames, which turned a sickly green, and stepped inside, shouting, "Diagon Alley!" and pulling Lily along with him.
"Close your eyes!" was the last thing Lily heard before they were caught in a whirlwind of soot, and when she opened them, the world had stopped spinning and she was standing inside the fireplace of a room she had seen once before; the main room of the Leaky Cauldron, and she caught glimpses of faces she knew all too well but was too strained to recognize.
Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus were sitting at a table, counting money and comparing purchases. Their eyes, along with Miranda's, Ashley's, and John's, who were sitting nearby, widened in a sort of horror when they saw Lily and Severus materialize, and Lily hanging onto his arm with a dead white face and for dear life.
James jumped up first. "Lily, are you mad! What're you doing with him?"
His voice reached her faintly, and she turned the saddest eyes he had ever seen on him. The hurt in her expression was as hard to miss as the fact that the universe existed, and it froze James in the stance he was in, half out of his chair.
The skin on her face was so thin and taut, it seemed that if one touched it with a knife, it would snap away in different directions. Her jaw was set, and those eyes–those eyes. They had summoned all of the pain anyone on the world had ever felt, emotional and physical, and stored them inside those two small orbs. He had never seen a sight like that before, and it was only when Severus steered her out of the back door and had shut it that he sprang to life.
"What–what was wrong with her? Sirius, you saw–you saw her! What's he doing to her?"
Sirius had drawn inside himself, and his voice came out thickly. "I–don't–know–"
"Well, if it's Snape that's making her--" He jumped up and Sirius had to catch him, and even then he needed Remus' assistance.
"James–it's not Snape. No kid could make her feel that way–I don't think–I don't think you want to interfere."
James was still straining, but at those words he turned around and faced Sirius squarely. "What do you mean?"
"I wish I knew. I wish I knew."
The next time James saw Lily, she was absent-mindedly drinking a cup of strong coffee, and the circles under her eyes were starting to grow more lavender, and had addend wrinkles. He didn't stop, but went right on inside the Quidditch store. Severus noticed him, even if Lily didn't.
"Lily?"
She didn't move, but Severus knew she had heard him.
"Lily, I don't know what it is about him. He keeps showing up wherever you are–keeps attacking me or trying to whenever I'm with you–" His voice trailed off.
"I know. I've wondered about that, too." Her voice was so drawn-out that every word was spoken after an interval of five seconds.
That evening, she undressed and got into her nightgown, remembering the last time she'd seen James. He was coming out of a shop she was going into, and he just stared at her. A blank stare; nothing else. After they had stopped up the doorway for about thirty seconds, someone roughly pushed Lily inside, and she fell, skinning her palms on the carpet. James had made a move to go inside after her, but the crowd had forced him back onto the street.
Opening the trunk to get her brush out, Lily came across the tiny casket that held the elf-nymph necklace. She hesitated a bit, but then pulled it out and knocked it against the wall, clutching the chain tightly in her fist.
Lily landed softly in a large wave, and, spitting out mouthfuls of the water, she climbed onto dry land.
It was night, and the stars twinkled in the heavens like the glimmers on the water's surface. Shivering slightly, she jumped as a form jumped out from behind a rock.
"Lily?"
"Tom?"
"Yeah, it's me. We've been waiting for you–"
"What for?"
"Long story. I need your help."
Lily was a bit stunned. "My help? I'm only thirteen–what–?"
"I'll explain. Come." He took her hand and led her behind the rocky cave that had sheltered him. They sat down on two raised rocks, and Tom pulled out a book, flipping to a page somewhere in the middle.
"See this?" He handed the book to her, pointing to the right-hand page.
"Traummacht Potion. What about it?"
"I found this book of my mother's, and she spelled it so it can only be opened by doing this spell and drenching the book in this potion. Weird, I know, but–"
"But what?"
"But I don't have all the ingredients."
She was a bit confused. "Where do I come in?"
"I'd like to ask you if you can get them for me."
"What–But Hogwarts' closed over the summer. You'll have to wait."
"I can't. The book stays permanently shut if I don't open it within a month of finding the book. It's been two weeks."
"So–so what do you want me to do?"
He looked at her. "You don't suppose you've already guessed? I need you–you're small, you're young, and no one would arrest you for it."
Lily's smile twinkled. "When do I start?"
She returned to the Malfoy's a few minutes later, with a few hurried instructions. The first thing that caught her eye when she landed on the bed was an owl, large and tawny, with a letter clamped in its beak. With shaking hands, she tore the envelope open and pulled on of two sheets of parchment out.

Dear Miss Evans,

We regret to inform you that you mother has passed away. We offer our sincerest sympathies to you and your family. If you have any requests or questions, please write to the Ministry of Magic, Department 226.

Peter Bartlett, Head of Department 226.


Lily was already sitting, and that was a good thing, for her knees would have buckled. As it was, her eyes simply widened, her lips grew a shocked almost transparent, as she was pressing them together so hard, and her complexion paled even more, if that was at all possible, and the circles around her eyes quickly deepened to a dark purple. She shed no tear; she simply reached inside the envelope and pulled the other sheet out with badly shaking hands.

Lily, dear,

The Ministry wrote to you to tell you–but I want you to know something. Your mother passed away quietly; she was in no pain and she was conscious at the end. Love, her last words were, "I love you, Lil dear." I can't write much anymore–except that her funeral's going to be three weeks from now. She already bought your birthday present–I'll send it along with some of the things she wanted you to have. I can't write anymore–only please don't come home immediately. I need to be alone for a bit.

Love, Dad.


Lily dropped back onto the bed. She didn't move for the rest of the night, and she didn't shed a single tear. But when Severus came in next morning at around nine, he ran for Mrs. Malfoy. From his jumbled message she could only understand a few words–"Lily–dead–terrible–come see!", but she nevertheless raced to Lily's room and stopped short when she saw the limp figure on the bed.

*There is something missing here—the summarization of it is that Mrs. Malfoy wakes Lily up and everyone leaves just as an owl swoops through the window with the things from her mother.  Lily has a few flashbacks as she lifts through the things, which include two golden candlesticks and a golden hairpiece one can insert a dagger into; kinda like a sheath.  The other things are mentioned here*


Lightfooted, smiling, and laughing, Mrs. Evans was dressed in a medieval noble dress Lily had dragged down from the attic. She was inserting the poniard into her concealing sheath–then picked up the old script of The Three Musketeers. Striking a ferocious pose, she swerved towards Lily, pulling out the dagger.
"Ah, wretch! You have basely insulted me–and more, you have my secret! You shall die!" Running wildly towards Lily, who ran out of the way in pretended fear, she caught her small six-year-old around the waist and swung her high into the air, both of them laughing as their red hair got entangled with the other's.
The next thing Lily pulled out was a collection of books. The complete Agatha Christie–both cloth-bound Rudyard Kipling's Jungle Books, two series of Robin Hood adventures, Robinson Crusoe, the complete Shakespeare, marked at intervals with the parts she had played. Lily ran her fingers over the spine of the books, eyes closed, the closest to crying she had been since she got the first letter from the Ministry of Magic and her father. Warmth flooded her from the gilded, deerskin, leather, and cloth covers of the books her mother had most loved.
The lumpy package was one Lily smiled to see. They were her mother's old tap shoes–she had worn them in several performances of musicals, and Lily had never tired of putting them on and tapping around the house in them when she had been younger. Even though they were close to fifteen years old, they only had a few real scratches, and those could be easily fixed with shoe polish. Lily touched the small straps, smiling to think of the small feet her mother had had.
There was only one thing left; a dark blue box wrapped with pale cream ribbon. A note slipped in the bindings said, in her mother's handwriting, Happy birthday, dear! Lily paused, then, gently, removed the ribbon and top of the box.
Reaching inside, she touched something hard. Pulling the contents out, she discovered something she'd seen in a Muggle store and always wished for, but it had been too expensive…
A case of drawing pencils, along with drawing paper, was enclosed. A sharpener and eraser accompanied it; also a pack of paints and brushes. There was a book, too–Faeries–one with beautiful and exotic drawings of tiny fairies. Lily smiled as she thought of the pictures open to her now that she had a few models…
There was something else. Her mother had sent her a few clothes–Lily, dear, I just wanted to get these for you. I know you might not want them, but I'm making the gesture anyway. There were several shirts: one emerald green with long sleeves and sparkling earrings to match, another a deep burgundy, also long-sleeved, with deep garnet earrings set in gold, and a short-sleeved blue shirt with a sapphire necklace. She had also put a pair of black jazz pants into the pile, and two pairs of blue jeans, which, Lily was touched to discover, fit her perfectly.
She squeezed her eyes shut, then stood up. She quickly slid into the black jazz pants and the burgundy shirt, putting on the earrings and a gold chain with a garnet pendant that she had loved when she was younger. Slipping her feet into the tap shoes and brushing her hair till it shone in the glimmering light, she picked up Macbeth and went downstairs to the library.
As she sat in the large armchair, curled up with what seemed like her mother's hair surrounding her; it was so long, and whispering out loud the parts of Macbeth and seeming to hear a dramatic voice, the voice of her mother, speak the role of Macbeth's wife, she felt strangely comforted. She felt as if her mother was in the room with her, holding her in her arms. And so immersed was she in the past and the complete peacefulness of that moment that she almost leaped out of the chair in shock and astonishment when someone lightly touched her shoulder.
"Severus! You scared me half to death!"
He didn't say anything; he was merely looking at her.
"What? Did I just sprout a mulitcolored mole out of my head?"
He shook himself. "No–it's not–Lily, your mother just died, and you're walking around in red and gold?"
Lily had forgotten, for the moment, that her mother would no longer be there to welcome her home, and she turned away, to the fire.

"Severus–it's not–not–Mother sent these to me. She meant to give them as a birthday present…but it was too late–" Lily turned back towards Severus, and he was sorry he had ever mentioned her mother. The skull-like appearance her face had had was lost when he had come into the library, and now it was back, full force, and twice as pained.
He moved over to her and took her by the shoulders. "Lily, cry if you want to. We know how much you loved her…go ahead, cry."
A small vision passed in front of Lily's eyes. It was that train trip home during the Easter holidays, and James was in the carriage with her.
"Please don't cry–never mind. Cry if you want to–it's the holding back of tears that makes people so terribly hard. Cry if you want to."
Lily backed away, astonishment in her eyes. Severus looked a bit hurt.
"What? Did I do something terrible?"
She frowned. "No–no–no–" Her voice broke. "Please go away," she whispered in a rather croaking sound. Severus' face didn't lose its hurt, but he nevertheless complied and left Lily by herself.
She meant to go back to the armchair and resume her reading, but her gaze was intercepted by the sight of parchment, a lit candle, several quills, and ink. Moving slowly, she stepped towards the small table and picked up a quill.

Eva,

Mother died two days ago. I don't feel up to telling people why I'm walking around like a moving corpse, so please do that for me. And I'm probably not going to be coming the first few weeks of school; this is just to explain why. If you want to send me an owl, I'll be at Lucius' place. Lucius Malfoy, that is. I don't want to write anymore, but I thought I should pen this bit. Please don't write back giving me your sincerest sympathies; I feel as if I just might totally break down if I saw that written. I also want you to come to her funeral: three weeks from now. I'll tell you once I have the exact date and time and place.
–Lily


Folding the letter up, Lily stuck it inside an envelope, dropped a bit of cream-colored wax on the flap and pressed her small golden ring into it. Picking up Macbeth, she went upstairs to get Alisande to deliver her letter.
Watching her owl fly away over the treetops, she felt even more saddened, as if writing that her mother was dead had made it even more of a reality.
That night, she returned to the Alendoren Cove.
"Tom, I don't know if I can do this."
"What–why not?"
"My mother just died. I can't–I can't–"
He bit his lip, then fumbled through pages and pages of notes, finally stopping at one long roll of parchment.
"Lily, this is part of what's in the book. Read it."
A bit bewildered, Lily took the sheet and read the line at which Tom's finger pointed.
"Vomtodauferstanden spell. But what–"
"Read the explanation."
She complied, in a shaking voice, for she had comprehended the meaning of the swirly, curlicued title. "Bringt Eure Verlorenen wieder auf die Erde. Mit nur einem Buch und nur sieben Zutaten werden Eure sehnlichsten Wünshe wieder wahr. Brings your lost ones back to the Earth. With only one book and only seven ingredients will your greatest wishes become true. Tom–" She broke off with a flaming desire in her eyes. "Tom–really?"
He nodded. "Really. That's one of the reasons I'm so worried to get that book open–that's the book it's talking about. I want my mother–you want yours–don't you see?"
Lily nodded with a set face. "I see. List, please."
He handed her a short bit of parchment with some names written on it. "You're positive you want to do this?"
Lily turned to him. "Tom, I want my mother back more than anything else in the world. You know that. And I'll do anything to get her back, just as–just as I believe you would. Goodbye." She left the cave and went around to the other side of it, and there struck the elf-nymph necklace on the boulders. Spinning through a whirlwind of blackness, she landed on her bed at the Malfoys. It was still dark outside, and Lily blessed her stars for that. Quickly slipping off the tap shoes, all the jewelry except the elf-nymph necklace, and the burgundy turtleneck, she donned soft, almost slipper-like black velvet shoes with cloth soles that were in the closet, a black turtleneck with dark gloves, and the cloak Severus had given her. Pulling the cloak's hood over her head and tying it with the wide black ribbons, she bound a small bag about her waist and opened the window, letting in warm night air.
She had been walking around outside earlier that day, with Severus and Lucius, and she had made an especial note of how the walls were formed and which windows were placed where. Stepping deftly from one piece of carved stone to another, she managed to get down to the lawn without slipping once. A small shadow flitted across the lawns, and Lily was drifting nimbly between the trees of the dark forest.
On the other side, she came out on the edge of a meadow, and beyond the meadow, she could see the outlines of buildings, their backs to her, black against an even blacker sky.
Dashing across the meadow, silently, she reached the stone constructions and smiled grimly as she slipped through a side alley and found herself pressed against the walls of Knockturn Alley.
Lily could see that this place wasn't as well kept as Diagon Alley or Firestream Lane; hags were snoozing all around her, one with a pitcher covered with a slimy sort of liquid, another wrapped in a cloak that had once been animal fur, but the fur was falling out in patches and only left the greasy skin behind. Somewhere down the street, a few people were dancing around a fire and shooting red and blue sparks into the air, but Lily shrugged them off, putting all of her attention into the reading of the signs above the stores.
"Bromin's Antiques–no–Higginson and Dowell–nope…what's that?" Her eyes glistened with a wild fever as she spotted a small store, almost hidden in the gloom. "Hiscock's Potions!" Her lips curved up as she deftly wound her way around the sleeping figures and trash cans in the alley. The only noise she had made since she had left the house was when she had mumbled the names of the stores to herself, and now, just as silently, she pulled a small chisel out of the bag she'd tied to her waist in the dormitory and started to work on the faulty lock on the door. She had learned how to pick locks one afternoon when she was six and bored, so this was child's play for her.
After only about five seconds, the lock sprang open with a click, and, with a small creaking sound, the door swung open. Lily felt no fear, only a sort of exhilaration as she took another glance at her list.
"Hiscock 's Potions–three tablespoons ground werewolf fur." Quietly as a shadow, she started moving through the store, checking shelves and pulling off boxes. With a small gasp of triumph, she spotted a box way back in one of the lower shelves, labeled Ww.Fur. She pulled it out and took a handful of the fur, stuffing it into her bag. Replacing the box and re-locking the door, Lily moved back out. No one had even suspected that there had been a thief in the potions shop.
When she re-emerged, she was quick to notice that there was a faint golden glow amongst the black clouds in the east. Flitting among the alleys and trees, she made it back to her room without anyone noticing her. She opened the window to admit her, slipped inside, and pulled the cloak close around her, hearing the soft pads of a house-elf on the carpet outside. She climbed into her bed, drew the covers around her neck, and partly closed her eyes.
A small elf, looking very like Minky, came in with a small house-elf baby strapped to her back. The baby, like its mother, had large, green, tennis-ball eyes and batlike ears, and it was sleeping peacefully. The mother knelt down at the fire, fussed a bit with tongs and the poker, and left the room with a roaring fire behind her. The baby started to cry just as she left the room, and Lily could distinctly hear the mother say, "Dobby, hush!"
Quickly, Lily sat up in bed and pulled the elf-nymph necklace out from under her shirt. Knocking it against the four-poster, she landed just outside Tom's cave. She had just time to hide the necklace before he emerged and came towards her with a greedy gleam in his eyes.
"You got it?"
Lily nodded. "Yes." She burrowed around in her bag and came up with the fur. "I'll get two or three tomorrow–it was just too late tonight."
Tom accepted the handful with a covetous grasp. He vanished into the cave, with a whispered, "Thanks a million. But you'd better get back; they'll be wondering where you are."
She followed his advice and got back to her room, changing quickly into her black nightgown. Lily even had time for a three-hour nap before Severus knocked at the door and took her down to breakfast.
The rest of the day passed in a flash. Lily had a hard time keeping her excitement about seeing her mother again soon, but she nevertheless managed it, without the help of makeup. They spent the day in the pool behind the Malfoy's mansion, and Severus and Lucius were relieved to see that she was being carefree once more, and that her face looked less strained after she beat them at the amount of laps they could swim without coming up for air. Lily won six to three to two and half.
The next night, Lily was off again, this time to Fraeden Square for the plant part of a two-week-old Mandrake. No one noticed the tiny shadow slipping in and out of darkness, least of all the sleeping baby Mandrake. She came close to being discovered when she accidentally knocked off the lid of a trash can, but the small homeless troll simply sat up, snorted a few times, and went back to sleep. Lily started moving again as soon as she heard the snoring.
The next place she broke into was a home. It was, like the Malfoy's mansion, large, grand, and imposing, but the difference was that this home had no magical alarm. Lily was a bit disappointed, as she had practiced her disabling spell in her room that evening, but she nevertheless made it inside with the help of the chisel and a screwdriver as long as her finger.
Moving silently through the house, she quickly found the study door. "Macnair Residence–Prisonta Drive–study. Grated horn of a bicorn…" The burglar's jemmy opened the door easily and she fumbled around the shelves. "Grated horn…no, that's powdered; grated…grated…" Almost panicking, she knocked a box to the floor, accidentally opening a hidden bottom in it. Her eyes dilated. "Grated horn! Wonderful." Lily picked up half of a handful and made her way out, cleaning up all the mess she had made. She hadn't been noticed by anyone, and, simply out of spite, left an almost unnoticeable trail of powdered bicorn horn all the way to the doorway.
The sun was deeper than it had been last night, but the gray glow made her quickly return, by back ways, to the Malfoy mansion. She found Tom in the cave, stirring a cauldron over a smallish fountain spouting boiling water. Wordlessly, she handed him the two ingredients, which she had knotted in separate parts of the bag to keep them from mixing.
Tom smiled as he took the Mandrake leaves out of the bag, and he placed them on a grate over a bright magenta fire to dry. The grated horn of the bicorn, however, he poured into a crucible, which he hung over the cauldron, leaving it to absorb the steam from the werewolf fur and Alendoren Cove dew mixture underneath it.
The residue of the ingredients he poured into an average-sized graduated cylinder and left it to sit in the very darkest corner of the cave. Lily ventured a question when he was finished.
"Tom, how long do you think this will take?"
He looked up. "What, the potion? It's finished as soon as we pour the last ingredient in, which, according to my calculations, should be about…" he consulted his notes, "six days. Yeah. Six. That okay? Well, that is, if you get everything in on time. See, I'd do some of this myself, but I can't get there; you can. Trust me, I'd do it if I could."
Lily nodded. "I'm quite willing to do this. You're bringing my mother back, after all."
He nodded. "Yep. And mine."
"Well, that, too. But still, thanks, Tom."
Tom nodded. "No problem. But you need to get back now–" he took a peek at his watch–"should be about six where you are."
"Oh, right." Lily smacked her forehead. "I'll see you tonight. Bye."
"Bye. See you tonight–Wait!"
Lily stopped at the entrance to the cave. "What?"
"Give me the list."
"OK–sure–" She fumbled in her bag and pulled it out, handing it to him. Tom immediately took up a quill and started to cross off things.