Lora rolled over on her stomach on the rug, kicking her feet into the air, while Eva sat down on the bed and Lily perched on the banister outside her sliding window. They were all rather hot and red, and the magical breeze that shifted the curtains felt wonderful.
Giving out a sort of contented sigh, Lora stretched her arms above her head. "Lily, James was right."
Both Eva and Lily whirled on her. "James?"
"You sound so surprised. He's been raving about you ever since he got home."
Eva snorted. "Lily, don't listen to her. He's mentioned you about as many times as he mentioned Snape—er—Severus. Not in the same tone, of course, but still."
Lily grinned. "That's good."
Lora sat up abruptly. "Why?"
"I don't want anyone raving about me. It hurts the ears and annoys the listeners."
Eva shut her eyes tightly. "Lily. Are you that insane? It's a natural part of life!" She unsqueezed her eyelids. "Boy sees you, boy goes absolutely stark raving mad, boy stays absolutely stark raving mad and annoys all of his remote acquaintances hopelessly by ranting about you. A natural part of life."
Lily's eyebrow was raised. "If that's natural, then God made a serious mistake."
"So what? Everyone makes mistakes."
"Yeah. But that one was worse than most."
"Oh, bother you. You're such a hopeless squasher of sentiments."
Lily grinned. "I might just put that on my coat of arms—if I had any. One and Only Severe Squasher of Sentiments. How does that sound?"
"Perfectly awful."
"Good."
Lora laughed, a laugh that made several of the people in the pool look up. "Lily, you're mad! Wonderful!"
Eva was shocked beyond belief; a smile was flitting across Lily's face. "Lora?"
"Oh!" She was gasping for breath. "I was scared for a minute that I'd be the only one as nuts as the Marauders. I am not alone! Oh, happy day! Sing a song of celebration to the skies!"
This last part was sung in an obviously made-up tune, and the 'skies' part was a screechy high pitch, such as made Lily clap her hands loudly beside her ear so as to make certain she hadn't gone deaf.
"Lora!" Both girls stared at the giggly figure in the silver bathing suit. "Have you gone absolutely off your rocker?"
That didn't stop her—on the contrary, Lora, and this time Lily, too, started twitching with laughter. "Off your rocker. That sounds like your grandmother fell off her chair and landed on the cat. Off your rocker!"
Eva, with feigned disgustedness, threw her hands into the air. "I give up."
Lily laughed. "Seems like you're going to be doing that a lot from now on!"
Wrinkling her nose, Eva uncrossed her legs. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Isn't it?"
"Around you two, no. Around you two, it's considered worthy of applause if I keep my sanity."
"What sanity?" Lily questioned innocently, the wide grin on her face giving the lie to her tone.
That evening, Lily and Lora had become quite close; that is, as close as two terribly sarcastic, sentiment-squashing witches could get. They had had an absurd flash of eccentricity and had decided to eat in the replicated secret rooms of Marie Antoinette; with the apple-green silk covering the walls and the white and gold sculpturing surrounding the edges of the ceiling.
Of course, the house-elves had no idea that they were eating there, and even if so, they would probably have disapproved strongly—they were a rather snobby bunch. So they resorted to hiding greasy loaves of garlic bread, overflowing pitchers of pumpkin juice and hot green tea, buttery sweet potatoes, and large German white sausages in their towels that were knotted around their waists.
Which, of course, resulted in the scarlet and gold towels being shoved secretly, with a lot of giggling, into the room Sirius and James were sharing—not because there was no room; quite the contrary, but the two boys figured that, one, they were more vulnerable if they had two separate rooms, the dimensions of which being fifteen feet by eighteen feet, and, two: it was more fun this way.
Lily, Lora, and Eva agreed to that principle wholeheartedly. They had moved Lora's bed into Lily's room, and, though Eva's didn't fit around a bend in the corridor, there was still space for a third person.
They spent the evening with lots of practice when it came to Shield Charms. True, they weren't supposed to use magic during the holidays, but Lora didn't attend Hogwarts yet, and she hadn't received a notice from the teacher that had been homeschooling her before not to use magic, so that Eva and Lily were bombarding her with ice cubes and sweet potato insides, trying to see how close they could get to hitting her in the face. Lora was obviously quite good at Charms; she emerged from the room when they had finished with dinner with only several droplets of sweet potato mush in her hair.

            Thirteen days wore on, and Lily and Lora were sticking closer together than ever before. Lily hadn't noticed it, but Eva was slowly growing more serious. Wise for her age, she realized that her friend was drawing away from her, and the stupidest thing she could do was cling to Lily in hopes of anything. Rather quieter than usual, she spent her days in the boys' room, who now officially called themselves 'the Marauders'. They knew she was depressed about something, but only at the end of two weeks did they pry it out of her.
"Eva."
The blonde snapped her head up. "Yes?"
"You've avoided this for as long as you could. No more Mr. Nice Parrot."
"Mr. Nice Parrot?"
"I got attacked by a blue-and-gold Macaw once. Anyway, what is it? You know us—we're your friends. Come on!"
Eva hesitated. "Sirius, honestly, I—I—"
"I—I—I—I—I what? Eva, it's not as if you're giving away a dangerous murderess or anything."
"Well, actually,--"
"Eva!"
"Shut up. Okay, okay. I give. It—it's about Lily."
James instantly turned around from the mirror that was trying to convince him that his hair, was, as usual, quite impossible, and therefore there was no point trying to flatten it, because, well, it was impossible. James tried to argue with the mirror, which was, actually, completely right, and it was just getting to the point where he had a pair of scissors in his hand and was being dared by the mirror to shave it off.
"Not with a scissors, you prat! Razor. Ar ay zee oh ar. Raayzor."
It was at this point that James heard the mention of the name 'Lily'. He whirled around.
"About whom?"
Sirius grinned. "Your infatuation, you pillock. The Evans girl."
James flushed a hideous brick red. "I am not infatuated with her!"
"And my cousin, who incidentally happens to be a goldfish, just proposed to Macnair. Come on, my friend!"
"Come on what?"
"I demand a reason for the bland and absolutely devoted look your face adopts when she enters the room."
"It does not!"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Proceed, Eva."
Eva sighed. "I don't know—not really. It's Lora."
James flopped back down. "Oh."
"I mean, it's both of them."
"Eva!"
"Oh—sorry. It's just that Lora's monopolizing Lily, and that they're hardly ever talking to me anymore. They're usually coming up with strange things, like doing cartwheels on the roof of the tower on top of the library, wearing large gray wigs, or—"
Several long strands of red hair hanging from the window, attached to Lily's face, interrupted. "Or hanging upside down from windowsills, eavesdropping on conversations. Does this concern me?"
Her wide, somewhat impertinent grin was unnerving to all three in the room as she dropped lightly, like a cat, from the roof into the room.
Sirius stepped forward. He had read something in Eva's eyes that James hadn't paid any attention to, and he was darned well going to confront Lily about this.
"Lily. We. Need. To. Talk."
"Sure." Lily shrugged, throwing her hair over her shoulder and taking his arm. "Where to, kind sir?"
"Preferably a padded cell. As is, though, Remus' room will do," Sirius shot back dryly.
As soon as he brought her inside the room, he made sure the door was shut and locked. "We have intruders," was his explanation.
"So," Lily asked; "what is this about?"
"You."
"I figured as much. What about me?"
Lily knew where this was heading. In all honesty, she didn't mean to leave Eva behind. It was just that Eva was so commonplace and ordinary—while Lora, though more materialistic and careful, was more interesting to be around. She was in no danger of being a small puppy attached to Lora; somewhat like Peter was now—Lora was not enough like her to do so—and anyway, Lily valued her independence too much.
"And Eva. Lily, you don't have any idea how much you hurt Eva when you run off like this. Your other friends I can understand, but Eva's stuck by you when no one else would; when you were ignored by every self-respecting streetwalker."
"Hey!"
"Well, you were."
"You are intimating that I associate with streetwalkers."
"Don't you?"
Lily ran an eye up and down him, rather slowly. "I suppose I do."
"Lily! I didn't call you in here for you to be a sarcastic little brat. At least try to stop this! I'm appealing to whatever emotion you claim to have—Eva's our friend, and we're not standing for this. Lora—Lora—" he found this hard to say—"Lora isn't as wonderful as all that. I want you to promise me this—that you'll apologize to Eva. After that, I don't care what you do, as long as you're friendly about it—say you don't want to associate with her, if it amuses you; just don't hurt her."
Somewhat unexpectedly, Lily's shoulders sagged. "I suppose."
"Good girl."
"I'm a puppy?"
"You are a lapdog. And one that bites. Come on—we'd better get back before James gets any ideas in his head."
"Ideas?"
Sirius sighed. "You're hopeless. Never mind." He unlocked the door and pushed her slowly in Eva's direction, smiling to himself as he witnessed the somewhat tearful apology. Tearful on both sides.
Sirius knew exactly what an impact on her life the talk they just had was going to have. He knew very well that without a steadying anchor—Eva—to help Lily to stay on the tightrope, she would fall while flipping on it, instead of sensibly planting her feet.
In other words, Lily was fully capable of becoming someone dangerous—someone wanted by the police in the Muggle world and the Ministry wizards and dementors in the wizarding one. Eva, he knew, would prevent that—for the time being. And, hopefully, if he could get some sensible boy to tie himself to her, it would permanently prevent that. Of course, he didn't mention the particular boy he was thinking of.
To mention the particular boy he was thinking of would be more than suicidal. It would be stupid. He was best friends with a boy that was hopelessly head over heels—at least, so Sirius thought—for Lily, though he didn't know it or admit to it. Sirius was presently trying to convince himself that James was being a complete and utter prat—more than usual, that is—about Lily, and that he would come to his senses quickly. He left his two other girlfriends, didn't he? Well then! And he and Lily fought too much. And anyway, she was only fifteen. He was only sixteen. No one discovers true love at that age. Fairy tales didn't count.
That night, Lora and Eva had almost pushed Lily off of the bed while they were sleeping, so, awakened by the cool breeze flowing over her, she flung her eyes open.
Moonlight spilled through the glass ceiling, and pearly beams reflected the darkness in her room. Suddenly, something impatient awoke in her, something that couldn't stand to be inside closed rooms anymore. They had fallen asleep in their bathing suits and towels, since they had gone swimming at ten-thirty. Lily quickly stood up and went to her closet.
The first time she had seen the closet, it had had a few things already inside; a couple of pairs of robes. One was to cover up a swimsuit, but no one ever really wore a clear pearly white silk flowing trailing pair of robes casually on a summer day. Lily slipped them over her head, and, after tying them at the waist, slipped out of the room by way of the window.
In his own room, James stirred in his sleep. He had heard something—something strange and not usual. Finally managing to kick Sirius aside, he stepped to his window. There he stopped, almost frozen, at what he saw.
There was a round hole fifteen feet up from the ground, facing the rising sun on Midsummer Night's Eve, used by the owls for the morning mail delivery. Usually, the moon or several odd clouds were visible through it, but now there was a ghost-like creature perched inside it, back against the arch and a long, white, filmy gown draping down into the courtyard. When looked at closer, it could just pass for a pair or robes, tied at the waist with a sash of the same material and the shoulders showing above the long, draping sleeves. The girl—at least, that was what he guessed—was staring at something outside—he couldn't tell what.
Lily had made her way along the balcony to the small window, and there had placed her back against the brick and her face towards the moonlight. The feeling of impatience and the surrounding cage was slowly vanishing as she found herself in a position of danger. Unlike many of her friends, though, Lily enjoyed every moment that she lived when she was in any sort of peril. It gave her a thrill to know that she wasn't safe, wasn't protected on every side.
James knew that the figure was in danger of falling and killing herself, but he was glued in place. He couldn't take his eyes off of the flowing, long, dark hair and the ghostly figure. It seemed vaguely familiar to him—somewhat as if he had known it for years. Suddenly, a picture of Lily climbing the walls of the Hogwarts castle in their third year came to his mind, and he knew!
Lily herself was making up poetry in her head, something that was sad, perilous, but at the same time, full of enjoyment. Giving a deep, heartfelt sigh, she stared over the grounds, then started with some fear and more surprise as something dark jumped up beside her.
"James?"
"I woke up—I couldn't sleep. I went to the window and saw you here—" He didn't continue. Swinging his broom up beside him, he searched her face, elvish and otherworldly in the moonlight.
"Why did you come here?"
Lily sighed again. "I woke up and felt restless."
He nodded. "Oh. All right, then. You all right, though?"
"Ye-es." She shrugged. "I was sort of thinking about Lora."
"Lora?" James was interested. "What about her?"
Immediately, Lily's trusting and open mood vanished, and she withdrew inside herself. "Nothing."
"Really?"
"Yes—nothing. It wasn't important. Just about what Sirius told me."
"Sirius?" Lily couldn't see the rather confused look on his face.
"Yes—he told me I was leaving Eva behind. Nothing important."
"Oh." James shrugged. For a minute he had thought—no, he hadn't.
"So—do you like this house?"
Lily's brilliant forest-green eyes turned fully on him. Her answer wasn't the gushing kind, not the kind that's given because one wants another invitation, but heartfelt.
"It's enchanting. I've never seen anything like it."
James blushed somewhat. "Er--thanks."
"No need."
He grinned. "You're rather old-fashioned; you know that?"
Lily laughed merrily. "I read too much not to be."
"What does that have to do with it?"
"Well, if—James!" She suddenly turned piercing, worried eyes on him.
"Yes?"
"You haven't told anyone about—about Tom, have you?"
"Why?"
"Well—he told me that the Ministry attacks have been increasing lately."
James swiftly turned towards her. "Really? How—why—Lily, I swear I didn't spill!" His eyes were opened wide in pleading hope, and Lily couldn't help but believe him.
"Then how? How on earth could they start attacking Tom? I don't understand. He's supposedly moved his location several times—and they keep catching up with him."
"Er—"
"James—"
"Lily, I didn't do it. I swear it on everything I value."
Lily's shoulders sagged. "Good. I was—I was hoping you hadn't. I thought I knew you wouldn't betray us."
"Us?"
"Yes—Tom, Litharelen, me—and everyone else on Tom's army. I'm counted as one of them—I've been counted as one of them since I helped Litharelen. And not only by Tom and his followers—but by Sikora, if he knew about me."
"You—you mean you're legally an outlaw or something?"
"You could put it that way." She saw his face tense up. "I couldn't leave Lith to die—can't you see that? She's my friend—Merlin's beard, she's Tom's fiancée! I had to help, don't you see?"
He didn't answer for the moment. It seemed now that, more than ever, a small elvish creature was speaking to him, and he was enraptured—entranced—she had a way with words that made Shakespeare seem second-class. It wasn't just her words—it was the way she said them, with her soul, and not her mind.
James nodded. "I see."
Lily smiled. "Thanks."
"So—" James leaned forward—"any more visits to Voldemort planned?"
Lily laughed. "Not planned exactly. You really like it there, don't you?"
He smiled. "Yes. Of course."
"I'm glad."
"Why?"
"Er—no reason. I'm just glad."
"So, any visits coming up in the near future?"
A smile flashed across Lily's face. "How about now?"
"I'm not dressed."
"Neither am I. No one cares if you show up there in your pajamas; come on." She pulled the necklace out from underneath the filmy white cloth—the necklace that she never took off now; though she had added the bottle of healing cordial to the chain—and nodded to him.
"We've got about an hour. Hang on tight. You want your broom?"
James grinned. "Sure, why not." He put an arm tightly around her waist and closed his eyes tightly when he heard the familiar ting of precious stone against a hard surface.
Soon they were whizzing through the air, landing in somewhat shallower water than last time. When they surfaced, they could clearly see the sandy stretch of land, with smoke rising from what appeared to be a boulder. Both pairs of eyes flashed with excitement, and the next minute, they were streaking for shore.
Lily, owing to the funny effects the Alendoren Cove had on her, had much better eyesight than James, and she had spotted Tom's thin figure, wrapped in black robes, talking to someone with furs on his collar. Curious as usual, she made straight for them.
She surfaced again as soon as the water was too shallow for her to swim anymore. Wringing her hair out, she stepped out of the water, the white robes trailing behind her on the waves.
"Tom?"
Tom immediately whirled around. "Lily! How are you! We haven't seen you in quite some time!" He strode over to the fifteen-year-old, holding out his hand. "Come. I want you to meet someone."
He led her towards the wizard with the furs on his burgundy robes and the toothbrush moustache. "Igor Karkaroff, Lily Evans. She's our little mascot around here."
Lily smiled and held out her hand, and Karkaroff did the same. "Pleased to meet you, I'm sure." He lifted his head. "My Lord, where ever did you come by this child?"
Tom smiled. "She found me."
Lily swerved around to see James, who was stepping out of the waves. She lightly ran to him and pulled him along. "Tom, I brought James—this time. He—he wanted to see this place again, so—well."
Grinning, Tom clapped James on the back, who was currently trying to get rid of a cupful of water that had gone down his windpipe. "Sure. I don't mind."
Lily had something else on her mind. "Tom?"
"Yes?"
"He—" she pointed Karkaroff—"he called you My Lord. Is that what you're to be called nowadays?"
Suddenly, Tom laughed, the same high, cold laugh that Lily had become familiar with over the years. "Lily, I'm their master—they chose to serve me. Lord Voldemort is my title."
"Er." Lily frowned.
"What? Does it sound ridiculous?"
"Oh—no—but, Tom, do I have to call you that?"
He smiled. "Don't bother. You're closer to me than a sister—that would be ridiculous. But, Lily—" he looked towards the slowly setting moon—"please—I need to talk to Karkaroff. Go inside to Lith—she'll take care of you. I'll be with you in a second."
Quietly, Lily took James' wrist and pulled him inside the cave, where they were immediately greeted by a musical neigh and a "Lily!" from Litharelen, who had been dozing on a rock in the corner.
Litharelen was tired; Lily could see that. She had faint purple shadows underneath her eyes, which were anxious and worried, a lavish contrast to the rich dark green gown she was wearing, belted with silver leaves and jade stones. However, before anyone else could say a word, a loud howl came from outside; a yell full of pain, anguish; an ear-splitting scream. James and Lily whirled towards the doorway.
There, a strange sight met their eyes. Karkaroff was cringing on the ground, grasping his left arm, his face twisted grotesquely in pain.
Tom lightly kicked him with the toe of his boot. "Rise, Karkaroff."
It took him some time, but finally the lump of misery got to its feet and let go of its arm—Lily could now see what was on it that had hurt him so much.
Branded into the flesh was the skull with the snake coming out of its mouth, black ash pressed into the skin and redness puffing all around the lines. Tom was putting his wand back into his robes.
"Igor Karkaroff, you have joined the Order of Death. A faithful member of the Death Eaters, do you now solemnly swear to obey my every command, faithfully fulfill your duties, remain loyal to my person and my followers, and be willing to give up your life for one of us?"
Karkaroff panted out a few words. "Yes—Master—My Lord."
Tom nodded. "Await my future commands at home. When your mark of honor burns, you are to Apparate instantly to my side. You may go."
Karkaroff lost no time in Disapparating, and James didn't blame him. He would have done that twice as quickly if it had been himself in that position. He winced as Tom turned to them.
"You two look as if you've seen an extremely bloody, mangled corpse. What?"
"Tom?" Lily's voice shook a little. "Is that your little initiation ceremony?"
"Yes." Tom's voice was quite matter-of-fact. "I have over a hundred followers."
James personally couldn't see how over a hundred people could wish to get a large skull branded into their arms, but he judged it wise not to say anything. Listening was more interesting, anyway, so he busied himself with picking a wood splinter off of his broom while intently paying attention to the conversation.
"Tom, you're sure that all of them are trustworthy?"
"Sure I'm sure! They're too scared of me to betray me."
"Tom—that may change."
"It won't," Tom stated confidently. "Never. You just watch; some day the world will cringe at the mention of my name."
Lily sighed. He was too stubborn and over-confident—he'd be brought down to earth with a thump quickly if this didn't stop—most likely the thump of his own body.
"Tom, I wish you wouldn't do this."
He looked down at her. "Lily, it's too late to turn back. I've killed a good number of Ministry wizards. I'm a wanted man. Stopping is impossible. You can see that, can't you?"
Lily sighed, her shoulders dropping and the erect attitude slumping. "I suppose. But—but—"
He didn't let her continue. "Lily, I've always dreamed of ruling the world. I'm finally getting a chance…" Tom's voice, dreamy and almost ghostly, jerked Lily back to reality. "Yes, by murdering innocent people. Goodnight, Tom."
She took James by the arm and retreated into the cave; Tom remained outside, staring at the moon. Lily, on her part, was furious. She had never thought that this would go that far—this was a murder society. She couldn't care less about her own life; that she knew—but these were innocent Muggles. Her mother had been a Muggle. Her whole family, for crying out loud, were Muggles. And for all she knew, they could be the next victims. Boiling mad, she slammed her friend against the wall, grasped his arm in a painful grasp, and hit her necklace viciously against the stone.
He was still carrying his broom, which was a good thing, since both of them hit the brick window at an odd angle, lost their balance, and fell abruptly. James was able to swing his broom underneath himself, and pulled Lily onto it before they hit the ground.
He took off towards the top of the Egyptian wing, which was simply a solid, flat cedar ceiling; preferable to the spires of Versailles or the slants of the Japanese courtyard. Pulling his broom up lightly before they hit the roof, both of them toppled onto the wooden surface, Lily still out of breath with frustrated, mind-boggling oaths uttered nonstop under her breath. James put a hand on her shoulder.
"Lily! It's all right. We're out of there. It's all right."
Her head snapped up. "Who ever said it wasn't, you imbecile!"
"Hey!" James was genuinely hurt. "I didn't do anything!"
"No, just decided to kill me again! What was that for?"
"What was what for? I saved your little life!"
"After you managed to come rather close to killing me!"
"How did I kill you? Just answer me that, Miss High-and-Mighty!"
"Oh, you're resulting to insults now? You little lump of hairballs. You slimy gutless frightened stuck-up Quidditch player!"
James had no idea how she could manage to hiss out a word like "Quidditch" so well when there wasn't an 's' in it. But he didn't leave himself time to think; he was already coming back.
"And what about you? You little outlawish mascot of a tribe of murderers! I don't want to know what you had to do to become their mascot!"
Lily's face was turning white with rage. "I wasn't cowed into it, as you will be! You know perfectly well that Tom won't stand for anyone that knows about him to stay neutral. You will be begging for mercy under his foot—and I—and I—I'll stand there and laugh. Watch you squirm and laugh."
She had touched a nerve. What she said had had truth in it, and Lily knew it. She received an odd joy from the sight of his throat constricting and his eyes almost turning red with fear.
"You—you—" His voice was nothing but a cracking sound. "You wouldn't dare!"
"Turn you over to Tom! Oh, yes, I would, son! You know me; you know I would dare!"
The worst thing about that, James thought, was that she really would.
 "You're out of my house! Out of my presence! Leave this instant! I'm not going to stand having you soiling this ground anymore!"
With a sneer, Lily bowed exaggeratedly; the bow of a dancing master. "Of course, Your Majesty." Then her manner flashed with anger again. "How dare you even think that I would even consider staying in this—this place even longer than I had to? I wouldn't if you threatened the whole of the human race with the Cruciatus Curse if I didn't. I'm leaving; but don't imagine that it's because of your order."
With that, she swung herself down the wall, landing lightly on the crystal bridge. Running along it, she reached the balcony of the Japanese courtyard, ran along the rail, and slipped inside the closest door. Making her way out of the room that housed two yawning, confused girls, she dashed into her own room, pulled on a few clothes, threw all of the rest of her clothing silently into her trunk, and pulled it downstairs, accomplishing this in less than three minutes.
She found a fireplace in the wall, very neatly camouflaged; as she approached it, it burst into flame. Lily dipped her hand into the basin of Floo powder that was sitting on the mantel, threw a pinch into the fire, and cried out "Philtrum Domus!"
Instantly, she found herself whipping around in the soot and mayhem of the Floo network; within seconds, she was preventing herself from falling flat on her face in the entrance hall of Severus' home.
She stood up and shook her head hard, trying to banish the headache that had resulted from the furious screaming. When her eyes finally focused, they landed on a rather confused and surprised figure in an armchair, facing her.
"Severus, don't ask."
He put the notebook he had been writing in away and stood up. "I wasn't going to. Is this a rather late acceptance of my offer?"
Lily bit her lips. "Severus, I'm not in the mood for sarcasm. I am in the worst mood you have ever seen me in, and you may thank Potter for that. Preferably, though, you may punch him in the nose."
Severus stepped forward. "I'm sorry. Care to tell me what it was about?"
"Maybe later. I know this is extremely forward and sudden and everything else besides, but I want to ask you if it'll be possible for me to stay here for at least the night. Our house isn't connected to the Floo Network."
Severus shrugged. "It's fine with me—I won't wake my parents up now, but they probably won't mind your staying here for—" he checked his watch—"several hours. It's four in the morning. How did you two manage to get into a fight this early?"
"I warned you."
"You did?"
"I said, quite plainly: 'Do not ask.'"
"Oh, right." He retied the black bathrobe he was wearing. "None of our guest rooms are open—all I can offer is the couch." He gestured towards a comfortable-looking dark blue sofa. "Is that all right? I know it can't match up to Potter's silks and satins, but—"
Lily smiled. "Thanks."
He grinned back at her; then vanished up a stairway. He soon came back with a pillow and blanket.
Spreading them over the couch, he held out his hand for her trunk.
"I'll get that out of your way. You're sure you won't want anything now?"
"I'm sure. Thanks, Severus." She flashed him a smile before her countenance was overcome with fatigue that followed the rage. Yawning, Lily slipped underneath the blanket; it only took her a moment before she fell asleep.