(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)

Sirius didn't answer any of James's owls for a few days. When he finally did answer, he blamed it on job interviews.
"Tons of them," he had written, "And I finally landed a job working as an assistant for the Ministry Aurors. I think that Moody or Dumbledore had something to do with it, but a job's a job."
Nothing else was ever said about Elise. Well, Lily had attended her funeral, along with most of her bridesmaids and James. She had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, Elise had. And now she had suffered for it.
Lily had cried to herself at night, asking James to talk to her and comfort her. James had been there for her, but he could hardly feel any pain. She hadn't been his friend. He had hardly known him, like the other boys. But James knew that Lily was feeling as bad as he would be feeling if Remus or Peter died. Miserable.

When they all got together for Christmas, weeks later, and it was Sirius's turn to say grace, he only hinted that there had ever been a girl named Elise Warren that he had seen dead and cold on the ground.
"Father," Sirius had said, folding his hands and closing his eyes, "I know I never talk to you, unless James is sitting here telling me that I have to in order to get any food."

The five of them had laughed, and then Sirius had continued.
"But I guess I just wanted to thank you . . . if you exist," he added, "For getting us all this far. I know that we've lost some . . . some people . . . along the way, but we're all here. And that's what important. That there are still five of us around this table, together and in one piece."
Remus opened one of his eyes to glance at Sirius. This wasn't like him at all. Was he all right?
"Thank you for my family," Sirius sighed, forgetting that there was anyone else at the table, "For my real family. I guess that's it. Oh, yeah, and bless James and Morgana in their wedding. And take mercy on their kids, because they're going to need your mercy having those two as parents. Amen."
"Amen," they all repeated, and then Lily took her knife and cut the turkey, "All right, who wants white and who wants dark?"

"So you're going to the Evans's tomorrow?" Remus asked, taking a bite of his turkey. Lily nodded.
"My mum and dad thought it would be fun to spend Christmas Day with James and me," she said, "Try to make him feel like part of the family."

"Good luck, Prongs," Sirius laughed, taking a drink from his glass, "That will be interesting."
"Your sister hates me," James muttered as he cut his turkey.
"She does not hate you," Lily argued, "She is just a little more narrow minded than my parents, that's all."
"She hates me," he repeated, and took a bite of his food.
Lily coughed, and then took her fork, "She doesn't hate you," she said again.

"I hate him!" Petunia shouted, slamming the door on Mrs. Evans's face, "I hate them both! Why did you tell them they could come?"
"Well, honey," Mrs. Evans said, reaching for the knob. It was locked, "Because he's going to be your brother-in-law. And she's your sister. She's a part of this family as much as you are. And we have to support her in what she does. She loves him very much, Petunia dear, and can you really blame her? He is rather attractive . . ."
"Mother!" Petunia's disgusted voice came from behind the door, "Please!"
"Well, Petunia dear, he's better off than your boyfriend," she said truthfully in her faded accent, "I love Vernon as much as you do, dear, but he is a bit portly around the middle . . ."
"Mother, I do not think that this is the time or place to talk about Vernon!" Petunia retorted, "And at least he doesn't go pulling rabbits out of hats!"
"Now, Petunia, dear," Mrs. Evans said, "We don't know if he has ever done that. Why don't you just come out and give them a chance? Try to get to know your new brother-in-law? Try to get to know your sister?"
"NO!" Petunia shouted, and then not another word came from behind the door.
Mrs. Evans sighed, and then walked to the top of the stairs, where Lily and James were patiently waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She ushered for Lily to join her on the second floor, and said, "What was that handy incantation that you used to unlock your father's car door that one time?"
"Alohomora?" she offered.
"Yes," Mrs. Evans pointed down the hall to Petunia's door, "Go use that on her door. She won't come out."
James waited as Lily disappeared behind the wall, and Mrs. Evans quickly made her way down the stairs. She gave a fake smile to James, and he saw that she was blushing red.
"Ah, James, truly sorry," Mrs. Evans said in a tussle as she made her way back to the kitchen, "Petunia can act a little immature sometimes. A little jealous of Lily, I believe. I mean, have you seen a picture of the beau she has? Ghastly fellow, really. Don't tell her that, she'll deny it. But he is rather on the large side. Care to see a picture? I carry one in my purse. The girls at quilting club get rather an enjoyment out of it. Thinks that they look like Jack Sprat and his wife. Except I believe it must be the other way around, because Jack Sprat was thin and his wife was the portly one . . . yes, I believe that's how it went."

Soon they were sitting quietly around the table, the most beautiful feast that James had ever seen sitting out in front of them. It must have been catered. There was no possible way that Mrs. Evans could have cooked it. Maybe Mr. Evans had prepared it . . .
And then he realized that Mr. Evans was the sort of man that his wife wouldn't let him anywhere near the kitchen.
"James," Mrs. Evans asked from across the table, "How is your new house?"
"Fine," James said, "It's fine. We still have a bit of unpacking to do, but," he looked across the table to where Petunia was glaring at him. He stopped, and narrowed his eyes. Why was she doing that?
He looked back to Mrs. Evans, and forced a weak smile on his face, "But we're pretty much moved in."
"Lily said that it was blue," she said, "What luck. That's your favorite color, isn't it, Lily?"
Lily nodded, "That's what the color of the bridesmaid dresses are."
Petunia's face grew even sourer. She gritted her teeth, and impaled her goose with the same force that she would have liked to impale James with. James stared at the goose, and then back at Lily in a "I told you so" stare.
"Stop it," she hissed, and kicked him from under the table.
He massaged his leg as Petunia took a large bite out of her goose. He lost his appetite.
"How's work going for you, dear?" Mrs. Evans asked, and Lily put her fork down.
"Well," she said, "With James's inheritance, we really don't have to work."
Mr. Evans looked up from his food, and eyed her; "You're a housewife?"
"No," James said quickly, remembering their conversation, "Of course not. I'm not working either. We just decided that it would be best if we just . . ."

"So you're not a bobby anymore?" Mr. Evans interrupted him.
"I am," James said, "But . . ."
"I say that they're liars," Petunia spat, his lip curling, "I don't think that he ever did have a job."

"Petunia . . ." Mrs. Evans scolded, "Don't you have any manners whatsoever?"
A rustling came from the living room, and James looked up and out of the entranceway.
"Potter! Evans!" a voice hissed from the hearth out of sight. James sighed.
"No, it's fine," James said, putting his fork down, "I have to excuse myself for a moment."
They hadn't heard the voice, since they had been too busy arguing with each other, and they looked at him as he grabbed Lily's hand, and ran into the living room at a jog. His Muggle sweater was bunched up in the back, and Lily quickly straightened it out as they hurried to the hearth. Upon seeing this, Petunia snorted.
"Frank!" James exclaimed, coming to a halt in front of the fireplace. Frank's floating head could be seen in the flames, looking very worn and tired.
"James," he said, sighing, "Urgent news. Moody wanted you to be aware of it. The entire Ministry is up on ends about this one."
"What is it?" he asked, and Lily nodded.
"Well, they caught a Death Eater that was responsible for your parent's death," he said, "His name is Williams. Jack Williams. He's an English gent that was along with Karkaroff and Voldemort when they killed the three of them."
"Did he get a trial date set yet?" Lily asked.
"No trial," Frank said, "Crouch is running out of patience with them. He went straight to Azkaban this evening. No questions asked. He made his one last request, and it's to see you."

"James?" Lily exclaimed, standing up, "Why would he want to see James?"
"I don't want to see him," James said sternly.

"I understand that you don't," Frank said, agreeing with him, "And we wouldn't make you unless it was very important. We need you to get information out of him. Ask him questions. Find out how many exactly were there that night. Names of other Death Eaters. What Voldemort is up to next."
"So make some Veritaserum and feed it to him," James said.
"It isn't that simple," Frank said, "They're going to give him the kiss tonight. We don't have time to make Veritaserum. It seems as if he's done more than just kill your parents. He was also responsible for a hand load of other deaths, along with other things. Crouch wants to make an example out of him for the other Death Eaters. His patience is slowly draining. We need you to talk to him."
"Today?" James exclaimed, "Frank, it's Christmas!"
"I know," Frank said, "But this is important, James. You need to come with me now."
"Don't worry," Lily said, "I'll hold off my parents. Just go. And get back here quickly, all right?"
James nodded, kissed her goodbye, and headed closer to the hearth.
Petunia peeked around the corner, and she almost screamed as she saw James disappear into the fireplace. Frank heard her gasp, and shot a look to her.
"Well, I better be going then," he said quickly, and then disappeared from the hearth.
Lily turned around, and smiled nervously at Petunia, "Hello."
Petunia didn't say a word, but looked around the room, to see if maybe one of the neighbors or one of her friends had been peeking through the window.
"You're going to be the ruin for this family," she hissed tersely as the two girls stepped back into the dining room, "What would they think? Seeing boys evaporate in fireplaces?"