A/N: Chapter Two's just been sitting on my Hard Drive, and I thought, 'Hey, updating today would be fun!' …So here, you go. Yeah, this is the pointless filler chapter. Chapters three and four have lots of fun L/J interaction. Not love/hate by long shot, though.

Disclaimer: Lily and James Potter, and most affiliated characters belong to the highly esteemed JK Rowling and her enterprise of confusing names like Bloomsbury and Warner Bros. Ordinary Day, I am pretty sure, belongs to the wonderfully talented Vanessa Carlton. This song has been a great inspiration, but I'm not inspired enough to try and make money off of either. All in good fun, I promise.

Ordinary Day 02

By Shadow Dragon

Inspired by "Ordinary Day" by Vanessa Carlton

And he said

Take my hand

Live while you can

Don't you see your dream lie

Right in the palm of your hand

Vernon Dursley pulled his father's company car into the driveway of number eight, Magnolia Crescent. The radio was playing a quite popular tune, and Vernon had been humming that tune for quite some time. It was a perfectly ordinary thing to do when one liked a song. He never screamed along with the lyrics, like those hoodlums they always saw along the street corners. He was a very prim and proper sort of man—he and his sister were society's finest, Vernon liked to think. Tonight, they looked it, for Vernon was wearing a suit jacket, and Marge was wearing a green cocktail dress that looked quite lovely on her.

Marge's date, a respectable young man with the same proper air that Vernon, pulled his elegant automobile into the driveway behind Vernon. His name was Eustace Timms, and he was an old classmate of Vernon's from Smeltings. He got out of the car as Vernon locked his own parking brake into place, and opened Marge's door, offering his arm to her. "This is where your fiancée lives, Vernon?" he called, looking at the house with disinterest.

"Shhhh!" Vernon and Marge both told him. "The Evanses don't know yet," Vernon explained, glaring at Eustace as though he were a dimwit. He did not realise that to everybody but the Dursleys, Eustace truly was. "That's why we're taking them out to dinner tonight."

Eustace nodded and allowed Vernon to lead the way up the front walk. "I shall remember to be more discreet," he promised in an empty voice. He was wearing his nicest suit, like Vernon had instructed him to, and had not said a word about the moustache Marge was starting to grow. All of the other young men Vernon had set Marge up with had had something to say about Marge's facial hair problem. Eustace was too refined a young man to mention it.

Holding the flowers he had picked out earlier behind his back, Vernon hummed under his breath again and rang the doorbell. His incredibly high spirits dropped like a vase in the hands of a half-wit, however, when the door was opened by not Petunia, but her younger sister. Still ever-polite, he said, "Hello, Daisy."

There was a young man standing directly behind her. Although taller than Vernon, he had a bit of a runty look about him as well. Vernon heard Marge sniff in disapproval and found that he was quite inclined to agree. Couldn't that young man do anything with his hair? "Hello. I'm Vernon Dursley," Vernon said, eyeing him rather mistrustfully.

"James Potter," replied the other young man in a pleasant voice. He shook Vernon's hand and placed his own on the girl's shoulder. Vernon was not blind to the fact that she jumped. He glared at this Potter fellow; he may not like his fiancée's younger sister, but he was not going to stand for any funny business on the part of this James Potter character. Hadn't he ever heard of a comb? "I'm sorry, but perhaps you haven't met my friend Lily Evans? I believe I heard you call her Daisy earlier."

The girl—Lily—gave Potter a look. "It's perfectly all right, James. Mr. Dursley forgets my name all of the time." She simpered to Eustace and Marge. "Hello, Miss Dursley, perfectly lovely to see you again. And you must be Eustace—Petunia's told me all about you. Come in. Petunia's in the parlour with my parents."

He had never seen the youngest Evans look scrawnier and paler than she did then. Vernon sniffed at her attire, but led the way to the living room for Marge and Eustace. It did not matter that neither of the couple that answered the door followed them in. He had eyes only for his Petunia, who looked ravishing in her own dark blue dress. She rose with a squeal of delight, and gave him a kiss on the cheek when he entered, and he shook hands with Petunia's parents. They were decent sort of folk—a bit off in the head occasionally—but his Petunia had turned out all right even in such a strange atmosphere.

"Oh, Vernon, won't stay and have a bit of tea with us?" Mrs. Evans asked, clearing away two teacups and pulling three more from the tray. "We're all quite a bit early for our reservations. Tell me, do you mind if Lily brings a date…?"

Although Vernon could tell that Petunia did not like the Potter character any more than he did, he agreed—rather warmly, if he did say so himself. They were just there that evening to make Petunia's odd parents happy. Besides, Vernon told himself as he took a cup of tea, it wasn't as though he would have to deal with that Potter or any of his tricks after tonight.

*

Wordlessly, James followed Lily up a set of staircases, having no desire to spend any more time around Vernon Dursley and his little ragtag crew. "Who was that?" he demanded as soon as they were out of hearing distance. "Those had to be some of the foulest people I have ever met—and did you see that Eustace fellow?" He shuddered. "I'd much rather watch Snape try to look down your shirt, thank you very much!" He sounded positively ill.

Despite herself, Lily let out a little giggle. Eustace had tried, not very subtly, to look down her dress as he had passed, but James had prevented that from happening by grabbing Eustace's hand in a rather forceful handshake. Lily was positive that Eustace's hand would be paining him for days.

"This coming from the fellow who was ogling me earlier," Lily reminded him as she led him down the corridor to her old bedroom.

In the past, James would have stuttered or flushed, but he caught the jesting note in Lily's voice—besides, it was true. He let it off with a simple shrug, and followed her through a door with a sign reading, "Lily's bedroom." It was done in crayon and sported childish handwriting.

He had been in girls' bedrooms before—he had two sisters, after all—but never had he seen one with so little personality as Lily's. The bedspread was dark green, and folded back to reveal white sheets underneath. A large painting of irises was visible above the headboard. There was no other decoration in the room, unless one counted a vase of fake roses on the wardrobe, or the Hogwarts trunk in the corner. Next to the trunk was a desk, or at least James thought it was a desk. It was hard to tell, for parchment and spell books covered the surface and made it appear like a mountain of paperwork.

"Uwila! You're back!" Lily said, her voice the happiest James had heard yet. No longer pink, Uwila was a great horned owl, an American breed. Lily never disclosed on how she got Uwila, but others liked to speculate. Sirius's favourite theory involved a bit of string, a ticket on a drowned cruise ship, and some hairpins. The others had never really bothered to enquire about that particular theory…

James only laughed when the owl shot him a yellow-eyed glare from the bedpost. "She still remembers third-year, I see," he remarked, and offered a bit of biscuit he'd taken up with him as a peace offering. She eyed him suspiciously, but eventually took the gift. "She probably still thinks I'm going to turn her pink. I'm telling you, Uwila, it was Sirius the entire time."

Uwila hopped onto Lily's shoulder and cheeped once at James, rather possessively. Not perturbed by her owl's presence in the least, Lily sat down on the bed and sighed. Even relaxed, her posture was perfect. Eyes not leaving her, James crossed to the desk and took his perch in the chair. "I really don't want to go to this dinner. And to think, I'll get to deal with Marge and Eustace all evening." She shivered, and Uwila let out a questioning note. Lily just reached up and stroked her between the two tufts of feathers that stuck up like horns.

James wrenched his eyes away from her Arithmancy essay to say, "Forget Muggle—are they even human?"

Lily's answer to this was a shrug. "Maybe. I'm not really sure anymore. I mean, I've met The Beast before, and she's absolutely hideous. At least Vernon's content to ignore me—"

"And forget your name."

"—But she's always going on and on (whenever my parents aren't there, of course) about how I was no match to 'Tunia's beauty. Even The Beast and her brother suspect something about me, I imagine. The Beast's called me a freak a few times…" She sighed and rubbed at her forehead, suddenly looking years older than seventeen. "I go back to Hogwarts and have to deal with Voldemort and the pure-blooded bigots, and I come home to people like Petunia and that horrible Beast."

James snorted under his breath; "Beast" seemed like a good name for that awful Marge creature. Honestly, she looked like a whale in that horrible green cocktail dress; and had the light been playing tricks on him, or had she really had a moustache?

"You can stand up to them, you know," James reminded her. "Don't let people push you down like that. It's demeaning."

Lily gave a bitter laugh. "And it's James Potter to stand up for the little people, once again." She shrugged and seemed to withdraw into herself for the briefest of moments. James blinked, and she was perfectly fine again. It was like watching Sirius change from human to dog—split second, and completely pivotal without changing at all. "Sorry about that—I have my moments. I don't mean anything by them."

Just as James opened to his mouth to reply, Mrs. Evans called up the stairs, "Children!" At this, both winced; they were seventeen, after all. "It's almost time to leave! Get your shoes on, Lily—and don't forget your wrap! It's cool outside tonight!"

James was pretty sure he heard Lily mutter something along the lines of, "I'm seventeen, not eleven. I know." She gave James a strained smile as she passed Uwila onto his arm. "Could you hold onto her for me? Thanks."

As Lily pulled on a pair of black sandals, James looked the room over again. "Where's Little Pete?" he asked, seeing no rat cages anywhere. Maybe Peter hadn't had an open view of Lily changing after all. She had probably shut him a drawer or something, knowing her.

Indeed, Lily confirmed his suspicions and crossed to the wardrobe. After a minute of rummaging around in what James hoped wasn't a lingerie drawer, she said, "Hmm. That's odd. He's disappeared."

James's eyes landed on the window, which had been left open for Uwila. "I imagine he went out the window," he mused. "Little Pete's a smart rat—he'll find his way home." He looked outside, and could see his car down on the street. He'd used it to follow Uwila earlier, because they couldn't keep high enough on broomsticks to avoid Muggle sight. "Well, I'd better go give my farewells and thank-yous, then," he said. "Thanks for taking care of Little Pete, even if he is a little sneak."

Lily was carefully draping a shawl around her shoulders. "Try not to leave your teacups lying about from now on, will you?" she asked, her mouth twisting up into a smile. James blinked. Had her face always lit up like that? Carefully, he placed Uwila in a cage and Lily put a finger to her lips, and then pointed at the open window. James, grinning, shook his head as she purposely left the cage unlocked and followed him out of the room.

When James walked into the living room, Petunia's frown alone told him that something had happened to annoy her. Hiding his dislike, he proceeded to smile congenially at her. Her glare, coupled by Vernon's, only made his smile much sweeter. "I just wanted to drop in and thank you for the tea," he told the Evans couple, his smile becoming genuine now. "Lily took good care of my friend's pet rat, so I should be heading off now." He held his hand out to Mr. Evans. "It was good meeting you, sir."

"What?" Mr. Evans asked, looking at the hand. Feeling somewhat foolish, James pulled it back to his side. "You're not coming with us?"

So that was what Petunia had been so displeased about!

"I didn't know I was invited," James managed. He glanced at Lily, but her eyes were wide. She had obviously not been aware of the plans, either, for her brow was furrowed. "I really don't think I should intrude on such an occasion—"

But Mrs. Evans waved his protest with a clucking noise so similar to Madam Pomfrey's that James nearly stared. He felt Lily chuckle beside him. "Nonsense! Lily's the only person going tonight without a date, and you're such a nice boy. Can't you two keep yourselves occupied with school things and the like? Would that be all right with your parents, James?"

James glanced at Lily to see her opinion of the matter, but her arched eyebrow told him that it was entirely up to him. He could leave Lily stranded with her parents and a bunch of ignorant Muggles, or he could play the suave, dashing hero, swooping in at the last moment to rescue her. When weighing the options in his mind, James didn't really have to put much thought into it at all. He was, after all, a normal teenager. "Where's your telephone?"

Although Lily looked surprised, she led him to a small telephone table in the room the kitchen. He dialled his home phone number without answering her silent questions. The small "Hello?" on the other side of the line could be none other than his twelve-year-old sister.

"Hey, Carrie! Is Mum or Dad home?"

"James? Since when do you know how to use a telephone?"

"Since right now. Get Mum or Dad."

The youngest of the three Potter children, Carrie was a witch, but she was better at playing the part of the Muggle younger sister than James was at playing anything Muggle. James, with his rather conspicuous lot of friends, pretended to be ignorant to Muggle ways when he was at home, much to the continued aggravation of his younger sisters. Of course, he secretly knew how to work everything, but bothering both Maddie and Carrie Potter just seemed to be part of the Guidebook for Being James Potter.

Before long, a very confused Daniel Potter came onto the extension, sounding a bit tired from a long day of work. "James?" He sounded quite puzzled that James actually knew how to work a telephone, and James rolled his eyes. Most of the population tended to underestimate James Potter, which was unsettling at its best.

"Er, yeah, it's me. Hi, Dad." James paused. "Listen, funny story. You know how Sirius turned Peter into a teacup, and how we had to follow the owl that stole him? You got our note, didn't you?"

"I'm still not quite sure I believe that story, James." Daniel Potter was generally a sort of trusting man, but some of the yarns James had spun for him still had him yet to be convinced. Daniel, Rhonda, Maddie, and Carrie had all turned out to be sensible, intelligent people, but James really did have a creative class of his own. "But, either way, do continue."

Lily had left the kitchen to him, probably off to converse with her mother. James frowned at the empty doorway. "Well, the owl that picked Peter up belonged to Lily Evans, a classmate of mine. We haven't seen each other since the beginning of the summer, so I stayed to talk awhile. Now, I've been officially invited out to dinner. Do I need to come home and do anything, or is everything all right with you? Can I go?" Suddenly he felt six years old, begging to go to Diagon Alley with Sirius.

Daniel Potter's voice was tired as he replied, "As long as you stay out of trouble. It's probably best that you ask your mother first."

Before James had time to ask to talk to his mother, Rhonda picked up the phone. "Hey, brat," she greeted fondly. "What do you need? Not in trouble, or anything?"

Rolling his eyes, James explained the situation with Lily and her parents in better detail. When he was done talking, Rhonda sounded surprised. "Going out with the parents on the first date, are we? A bit bold, isn't that?"

"We're not dating or anything—" James broke off and looked at the door suspiciously, half-expecting Petunia and her loathsome date to be hovering just outside. "I think they're about to leave, so is it all right with you if I go along? Please?"

"Well, if it's all right with your father, it's perfectly fine with me. Have a good time, dear, and do try to behave. Love you, kiddo."

"Love you, too, Mum. Thanks," James replied automatically. Feeling a bit awkward, he replaced the phone into its cradle, and walked out of the kitchen to find Lily engrossed in a magazine that had been sitting on a low table outside of the kitchen. He smiled as he noticed the title, Modern Muggle. Apparently, her parents had been doing some reading. "Well, my parents are fine with it. Are you sure I won't be a burden…?"

If Lily had an answer to that question, she never got to make it. Rose Evans bustled into the entrance hall, with her husband behind her. James was slowly beginning to learn that Rose Evans was the vivacious type, and Simon Evans just seemed to follow in his wife's footsteps with a sort of "What can you do about it?" air. "Did your parents say you could come, dear?" she asked James, smiling at him in a way that made him feel flustered.

James managed to reply that yes, both of his parents had been fine with it.

They made for an odd party of eight on the front lawn in their formal best. James and Lily stood a bit apart from the rest of the group as driving arrangements were discussed. Lily was watching her sister talk to Marge, trying not to look disgusted at the pair of them. Vernon and Simon were discussing the driving arrangements. Eustace was staring into space. James was counting how many different types of flowers there were in the garden. He would never get over Mrs. Evans's obsession with gardening, he feared.

Eustace would be taking Marge in his two-seater sports car, but Vernon was absolutely adamant on driving the elder Evanses in his own car. He was, after all, the one taking them all out to dinner. However, Mr. and Mrs. Evans were under the impression that James was a full and proper wizard (which he was, but his situation was hardly simple). Full and proper wizards didn't own cars.

"Why don't I just take Lily in my car and follow you?" James offered, finally figuring out exactly why there was a problem.

"You have a car?" Rose Evans asked, eyebrows arching. "I thought that wizar—"

She was cut off by a loud throat-clearing noise from Petunia's direction. Because Vernon, Marge, and Eustace were all looking at them very strangely, James swooped in. "No, really, it's not a problem. With my family the way it is, it's almost impossible for me not to have a car. Granted, I'm gone at school for most of the year, but during the summer, I provide a ferrying service for my younger sisters." He shrugged almost apologetically. "I really must tell you about Madeline sometime, but I think that can wait. Who's leading the caravan?"

It was arranged that Eustace would follow Vernon, and that James would bring up the rear. As Lily and James walked over to James's old BMW, she asked quietly, "You have a car? You?"

James held her door open for her and shrugged. "It's really not all that surprising. I've been acting like a Muggle for nine years now."

The inside of James's car would not have made anybody suspicious of his true heritage. He kept a pair of fuzzy dice (something Remus had picked up in America) hanging from the rear-view mirror, an air-freshener fastened to the dashboard, and the radio on the local new station. "The guys find me boring," he confessed as Lily looked about inquisitively. "Peter's dream is to attach a hula-dancer doll to the front of the hood, but the car will be Maddie's in December. I doubt she'll appreciate the sentiment."

"I can imagine," Lily agreed, and fell silent. Her face was turned partly away from James so that he could her profile against the window. After a long moment, she shifted slightly. "So, is Madeline a Squib? I've heard rumours, but haven't really ever thought to ask you—I mean, after all, it's your business…"

"Maddie is unable to manifest magic, with or without the aid of a wand, that's right." James shrugged and kept his eyes on the flashy tail-lights of Eustace's car. "It happens in every family—Muggles have witches or wizards, wizards have Squibs." Lily's eyes did not miss the fact that he flinched on the dreaded word. Still, he continued on as though nothing had happened. "A bit unfair, in the total prospect, but had wizards not married Muggles, we'd be a dead breed."

"You think it's unfair that Muggles have wizarding children?" Lily asked in a careful voice.

"It's unfair to the wizard or the witch that has to deal with both societies, yes. My family made the choice to live as Muggles willingly, and I can see your parents are sports about it. Still, there's always problems, as I'm sure you know."

"But what about Maddie? There are others like her—is she more privileged to know about the magical world, or would she be better of being a full Muggle?" Lily was still wording her questions carefully, but it was obvious that she was fascinated with the subject.

"Maddie's not a bitter person, and we all love her." James shrugged without really knowing why. "Would she be better off without knowing us? No, I really don't think so—she's still got magic in her. What happens on the day that she accidentally meets up with, say, a wizard's mirror? They respond to her just like they respond to all wizards."

By the time they had pulled into the parking lot outside the restaurant, James and Lily were deep in a debate about which child grew up with more useful knowledge—the wizard-born of the Muggle-born. They had to cut their debate short, however, for Vernon, Eustace, and Marge had no suspicions that magic truly existed. Petunia sent the pair of them a warning look as she and Vernon led the way up to the ritzy front door of Shenanigan's. Indeed, waiting for them just outside were two large people that James could only assume were the elder Dursleys. Calvin and Delia Dursley were, unlike their children, rather pleasant.

Despite the Irish name, the restaurant definitely had no ethnicity behind it. Inside, James was surprised to find a darkened sort of waiting room, with smooth cream-coloured walls, and a reception's desk. The lady sitting behind it flashed them all a very large grin as she informed them that their table—in the Gold Room—was ready and waiting for them. James trailed at the end of the group as an equally sunny hostess led them through a large foyer filled with tables covered in white tablecloths. The Gold Room was apparently a dancing room, for there was a live band inside, and quite a few couples dotting a large dance floor. James noticed that nobody in the group eyed the floor apprehensively.

They were seated at one of the larger round tables in the Gold Room, and Vernon promptly ordered a very expensive bottle of wine for the entire table. James stopped the waitress politely on the way away from the table and asked if he could just have a glass of water. Other than Lily's inquisitive look, nobody bothered to question about his request. "My father has never been able to hold his drink well," he explained to Lily, and settled his napkin in his lap. "I think I'm unfortunate enough to have inherited that, as well. Even much more so with a best friend like Sirius."

Dinner table conversation was polite, as it always was. James could not help but notice that he and Lily were positioned as far away from Vernon as manageably polite. Unfortunately, the seating arrangements meant that Lily was sitting next to the creepy Eustace Timms. James eyed the fellow young man throughout the meal, wondering if there was any way to break his nose "accidentally." He eventually ended up politely asking to switch seats with Lily, because Eustace "seemed like he might be the sort of fellow [James] wanted to get to know better."

When the waitress came to take their orders, Vernon ordered a round of Filet Mignon for the entire table, and the elder Dursleys looked pleased. James shifted awkwardly in his seat—he didn't necessarily have a problem with Filet Mignon, but he really did prefer chicken. He reminded himself that he wasn't the one paying.

Calvin and Delia Dursley tried to include both James and Lily in the dinner conversation (how such decent people ended up with such horrible children, James was not sure). "What school do you attend?" had been the first question, to which Lily answered, "Hogwarts School of Academic Competency," off the top of her head. James was certainly impressed, but realised that she had probably been answering this question for six years in the same way.

"Do you play sports, James?" had been the question directed at him.

"James is more interested in the finer points of academia," Lily had answered for him, even though James was reputed for his Quidditch talent. "He's top of the class, and quite the genius in calculus." James had no idea what calculus was, but the Dursleys didn't need to know that. He gave them his best smile and focused on his water glass, hoping that they wouldn't question any of his knowledge on the subjected.

"Calculus? A fine thing to know, indeed. And what about you, missy?" Calvin Dursley asked Lily. "What's your best subject?"

Lily faltered quite visibly, but James had heard enough from Maddie to answer, "Oh, she's quite the brilliant one at Chemistry and, er, Shakespearean Literature." Now it was Lily's turn to give the Dursleys her best smile.

They were both saved by the arrival of the food.

Looking down at the perfectly done piece of meat, as well as the plate of appetising salad, James remembered that he was quite hungry, having skipped breakfast and lunch. Still, he was determined not to embarrass himself, so he took time to chew and even listen intently to the conversation between Simon Evans and Vernon Dursley. Sometime between his fifth and tenth bites, he glanced over at Lily and was alarmed to see that she was picking at her steak. Her salad was already gone, as well as the potatoes alongside the steak.

"What's the matter?" he asked in a low voice, leaning towards her so as not to interrupt any conversations.

She jumped. When she looked up, her green eyes were wide—almost as though she had been caught in the act. "I'm not a vegetarian, but I don't like the taste of meat," she explained in a whisper. "Chicken's all right, but not…this."

There really wasn't much else he could do. James passed his salad over, saying with a laugh that he didn't need to turn into a rabbit anyway. He would be honoured, he said with a faked laugh, if Lily took his salad away from him. Rose Evans noticed and gave him an approving look before turning back to her conversation with Delia Dursley and Petunia. Lily accepted the salad with a grateful smile, and the pair went back to eating their dinners silently.

Despite their casual exchange about the salad, James was beginning to feel frustrated. He had just discovered a new and fascinating person in Lily Evans, and simple conversation about the society they both existed in was forbidden. It was pretty rotten to Lily, and to Vernon, to keep such a secret from the Dursleys. However, neither the Evans nor the Dursleys would appreciate his intervention, so James stuck to his own speculations. He popped a piece of potato in his mouth and chewed while he thought of ways to discreetly bring up the Potions assignment. Before he could think of any, though, he was waylaid by Vernon Dursley, who stood up and looked about the table.

"Well, I see that you've all finished your dinners—my treat, of course. Now that Grunnings is off the ground and running perfectly well, I hope I will have the chance to host many dinners like this!" He chortled good-naturedly. "However, tonight is special. We—Petunia and I—have invited all of you here," and his eyes swept disapprovingly over James and Lily, making James bristle, "to announce that we have become engaged."

James blinked. Rose Evans promptly gasped and moved around the table to hug her eldest daughter, who beamed and pulled an engagement ring out from somewhere. Simon Evans looked vaguely upset for a moment, but congratulated the happy pair with every bit of enthusiasm as his wife. Eustace and Marge both clapped spiritedly, and Calvin Dursley chortled, "Here, here, boy!" It was evident that the Dursleys all knew about the engagement. The Evanses, however, were floored.

"Spanking good news, isn't it?" Eustace asked James, who merely nodded through his rather forced smile. Such awful people were allowed to marry and breed? There should be laws against that!

Lily played the part of a supportive sister as well, and hugged Petunia in a congratulatory manner. Petunia ignored her with a hurried and insincere, "Thanks," making James fight the urge to hex her to unmentionable places.

James was forced to take a glass of wine for the round of toasting that followed, but he did little more than sip. Leaning over, he whispered, "Even butterbeer makes me nauseous. A couple of glasses of this stuff could knock me flat, I wouldn't doubt."

One red eyebrow arced up. "I'll have to remember that the next time I plan to get you drunk, then."

Petunia gave the pair a suspicious glare as James choked into his glass. He was immediately offered a napkin by the incredibly amused Lily, who chuckled behind her hand. She was being discreet about it, for anybody else would have thought she were hiding a cough.

"So," Vernon said, oblivious to the fact that Lily was still snickering, "would anybody favour dancing, or just dessert? I'm told that the entire Evans family is fond of dancing, and I'm sure even you could dust off your fox-trot, Dad."

"I'm sure I could," Calvin Dursley replied amiably.

Glad to have the opportunity to talk to Lily about things of their world, James turned to ask her, but caught the look on Simon Evans's face. A brief understanding passed between the two of them. He was aware of Vernon saying, "I'll just have the first dance with my lovely fiancée, then."

"Save me a dance, please," he muttered to Lily, who looked at him with a very strange expression. In a louder voice, he asked, "I may not be the expert, but I know a few dance-steps myself. Would you care to dance, Mrs. Evans?"

And as he spoke

He spoke ordinary words

Oh, Though they did not feel

No, For I felt what I have not felt before

You'd swear those words could heal