A/N: Okay, I feel I ought to explain the long time between updates. So put simply, it's this: within the past four months, I have moved to another country; gotten a new computer; started at a new school; gotten new…everything, basically! I only came with one big suitcase, a box, and a backpack, so I've had to buy everything else necessary. Soon as I finished moving, school started, and between settling into my new apartment and figuring out how the school system works here (as well as getting lost more times than I can remember), I've just been way too busy to update. Besides which, I didn't have any of my notes or the comic that I based this story on to help keep me on track. AND I didn't have a word processor. But yes, now I'm back with all the things I need, so you should be seeing an end to this story sometime soon…hopefully. (Actually, I've got a presentation for a thesis type thing this coming week, so I probably won't update before next week.) I really appreciated everyone's reviews, though—I finally checked my email yesterday and weeded through the spam to find them. :D Much thanks!!! Keep the comments coming!

Disclaimer: Chiho Saito/JK Rowling. Ain't mine.

Chapter 3 – Dining Out

After an initial period of incomprehension, irrational hatred, and aggravation, Lily found herself slowly mellowing toward the idea of having to stay in France with Jean, at least temporarily. She no longer shouted obscenities at him whenever she caught him watching her (which was often), and the threats to make sure future generations of Laurants would no longer be possible (with a threatening brandish of the wand) went from frequently, to daily, to not at all. Perhaps Jean went out of his way to be especially charming—or Lily simply reconciled herself to the situation—regardless, whatever it was, it was working well toward general peace and harmony. Lily actually had quite a few good conversations with him, having finally resolved to make the best of this confinement…and Jean was clever, well-read, kind, and funny in his own way—if the situation had just been different, Lily sometimes thought, she and he might even…

That's where she always stopped. The fact remained that the situation wasn't different, and it would be stupid to dream up possibilities for what-ifs and might-have-beens. Jean was tied to his country and to his activities there, while Lily couldn't possibly tear herself away from her own work back in Britain. If the situation wasn't resolved in due time, Lily calculated, she would have to go back, whatever the risk.

After several days of lounging about the house with nothing in particular to do and only Jean to talk to, though, Lily was getting restless. She enjoyed Jean's company, but…it was hard to see the sun and the bustling streets through the windows and not be able to go out and enjoy them herself.

"What harm would it do," Lily said out of the blue one afternoon, as she paced between sofa and window, "if I were to go out as a common Muggle? I was Muggle-born, after all, so I can take care of myself…"

Jean was lounging in an armchair by the fire with a book, though he cast occasional glances in Lily's direction when he thought she wasn't looking. At her comment, he shut his book and looked at her with an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Don't tell me you aren't getting restless too!" Lily exclaimed, noticing his intent gaze. "Oh, wait—YOU get to go out!"

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?" Jean asked quietly.

"Don't give me those excuses—what??" Lily stopped mid-rant to stare at Jean dubiously. "Did you just say what I think you said…?"

"Yes," Jean replied, getting up to leave the room. "I'll have the house-elf bring you something to wear and help you prepare."

Since when did Jean have house-elves? Lily cocked an eyebrow. These must be some really good house-elves…she hadn't seen a trace of one since she came, and she hadn't stirred a foot from the house for the past…far too long. Intrigued by the suddenness and marked ambiguity of this "dinner" event, Lily found herself at a loss for words and went to her room to prepare, rather perplexed.

"Are you SURE I won't be recognized?" she asked for the hundredth time.

The house-elf had dressed her in a set of revealing evening robes of the softest material Lily had ever felt. The garment glimmered soft gold in some lights, copper in others, and was held on by the thinnest, barest of straps and ribbons. Lily had by no means been conservative back home, but this—this dress on her was simply lascivious.

To add to the effect, the house-elf had twisted her hair into an elaborate updo with shining golden baubles and combs entwined with the strands. She had then proceeded to lighten it by several shades, emphasizing the gold in Lily's red-gold hair, and finished by applying a thick coat of makeup to Lily's face. The end result, while not hideous (as Lily had imagined it would be), was definitely different from anything Lily had tried on herself before. This style was more bold than elegant; flashy and not refined at all.

"Yes, I'm sure." Jean answered her for the hundredth time with infinite patience.

"I can't believe you're making me wear THIS out," Lily grumbled, looking down at her attire. "It's so…so…skimpy!! Are you sure this is what the other women at this dinner party will be wearing? Absolutely SURE??"

"Yes, this is what they wear in our society," he replied, smiling slightly. Lily wondered what, exactly, 'our society' meant. "Trust me." He took her cloak for that evening from the wardrobe—a deep red velvet affair with strangely delicate shirring and golden embroidery about the neck and bottom hem—and settled it gently about her shoulders. "You look beautiful."

Lily blushed slightly at the compliment and felt her discomfort slowly ebb away. She helped him draw the edges of the cloak more snugly around her. "Thank you," she murmured, pulling at the strings that would tie at her collarbone. Jean turned her around and began to help her tie them. Their fingers brushed and Lily was startled by the shock of contact, abruptly dropping the strings in her hands. If Jean noticed her sudden movement, he made no sign of doing so and finished securing her cloak without further comment.

He put his own cloak on quickly, and then offered Lily his arm with an endearing smile. "Shall we?"

Lily found herself smiling back. I'm giddy from the knowledge that I'm FINALLY going out, that's all. She took his arm and he apparated them away.

They arrived in the lobby of what looked to be a gorgeous luxury hotel. Massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the glitter of gold was everywhere. People clustered throughout the room, talking and sipping champagne. The men wore dark robes of rich materials, while the women were dressed much as Lily was—bright and flashy, bejeweled and painted within an inch of their lives, like ornamental flowers.

A shout went up as Jean and Lily made their entrance, after having their cloaks taken from them by house-elf attendants. Everyone seemed to know Jean, and it felt to Lily as though hordes of people suddenly descended upon them, clapping Jean on the shoulder and back while shaking his hand.

"And who's this?" a cry sounded, as Jean drew Lily's hand through the crook of his arm.

A stern-looking wizard looked Lily up and down slowly without the slightest bit of shame and, with a glitter in his eye, hooked a finger under her chin, raising her face. "And who might you be? Where did you come from?"

"I—" Lily found herself tongue-tied. She wanted to smash her head against the nearest hard surface. Why hadn't they thought to come up with a convincing background for her, if she was supposed to be in hiding?? She should have thought of something—a false name, at least, and a new native country.

"She's mine," came a cool reply, as Lily felt herself being pulled close to Jean. He smiled but his eyes pleaded with Lily to play along as he bent to kiss her softly right below her ear. "I discovered her when she was quite young, a poor orphan girl on the streets, and trained her up myself…isn't she lovely?"

Catcalls and cries went up from Jean's friends, along with calls of, "No wonder you've been too busy for us lately! Finally decided to let her out of her box, hey?"

"Ignore them," Jean murmured, as his lips grazed her cheek.

That wouldn't be hard, if he continued with what he was doing, a little voice in Lily's head sniggered.

"Oh stop it," she said aloud, trying to silence it.

Jean abruptly let go of her and his expression turned icy. "I have to go talk to some of the others…wait for me by the pillar, I'll come get you." With that, he turned and strode off.

Lily wandered slowly to the pillar, wondering what that was about. Someone handed her a small lace fan and she brandished it like a screen to hide her face, noticing that some of the other women had done likewise. What was this place? This event?

A house-elf offered her some pink champagne and she took a glass, grateful for something to do. She didn't know anyone, and it wouldn't be wise to simply go about talking when she didn't even have a story for herself thought up. Perhaps that's what she should do while she waited for Jean to return…

She didn't know how long she stood by the pillar, sipping from her glass and waving her fan languidly in front of her face and thinking about what she should say and whether she would ever be able to go home. When she finally became sensible of her surroundings she noticed a couple standing very close together in front of a neighboring pillar. She looked closer and realized—the man was Jean! He and the woman—a petite brunette—were deep in discussion. Then they kissed—and it was by no means just a friendly kiss—and then the woman walked off with a wave of her hand and a merry laugh, to join another man by the doorway.

Jean turned towards her and Lily glared at him. How dare he! He dressed her and described her to his friends as if—as if she were some sort of courtesan, owned by him exclusively, and then he left her so he could go off and flirt with other women??

She glared daggers at him again and fanned herself angrily. Well, so what! He wasn't tied to her, any more than she was tied to him! She just wanted to go back to Britain after all, not to get involved with a cocky, irritating—

Just then she heard him calling—was it to her?—and turned, prepared to give him a piece of her mind. That's when she noticed that—there were two Jeans?!?!

"Twins??" she couldn't help bursting out, incredulously.

The Jean she'd seen by the pillar with the brunette was still standing at the pillar, looking at her with a mystified expression on his face. Meanwhile, the Jean she'd come with—and now she could see that he was wearing a different shade of robe than the other Jean—was walking toward her from behind the other man. She noticed on more careful inspection that there were subtle differences in their features…but really, they were just too similar…

The two men turned and noticed each other's presence, and both pairs of eyes widened.

"You—" they both said in unison.

"This really is amazing!" Jean said for perhaps the tenth time in a row, as he sipped his champagne and gazed across the table at a man who could nearly have been his mirror image.

"It is!" The other man, James Potter, agreed, smiling. He had the same lopsided grin that Jean had, Lily noticed from behind her golden fan.

James Potter happened to work for the Defense League back in Britain. Lily remembered him from Hogwarts very vaguely…he had been Head Boy a few years ahead of her, and they'd had very little interaction despite her having been a prefect. Though he was in Defense under Terrence, they worked in different departments and on different projects, which was why they never saw each other at work. Which was good thing, Lily supposed, otherwise he'd recognize her.

"So what brings a British wizard like yourself to France?" Jean asked, as he grasped Lily's hand under the table and squeezed reassuringly.

"Oh, we're working on some connections in the French Auror forces…I'm working as a sort of ambassador right now." James' smile left his face as he gazed at the glass in his hand. "I'm also supposed to be looking for any clues as to the disappearance of one of our members…It seems that Carruthers, our chief, had a daughter or adopted daughter of some sort who was stopping by France on a mission for him…she was supposed to be back last week and hasn't returned yet, and he can't seem to reach her."

"No one knows what happened to her?" Jean asked, squeezing Lily's hand again. She held her fan closer to her face, just in case James should see and recognize her.

"No, there has been no news whatsoever. It's a tough blow for the old man—she was all he had left, you know. He's quite frantic."

Lily felt a pang of guilt. She should have found a way to contact Terrence—regardless of risks or consequences—if only to let him know she was all right and in hiding! She was the only thing he had left…and he had a weak heart. What if something should happen…? She turned her head slightly and looked at Jean, who, she found, was watching her intently. The look in his eyes of intense longing and sorrow quickly disappeared as he noticed her gaze upon him. She wondered if she had just imagined that expression on his face…

"That's unfortunate," Jean said softly. "Did you know her?"

"No, I never met her," James said. "From everything I've heard, she was a brilliant witch—and beautiful! You've really got to feel for Terrence… it's horrifying to think she's disappeared without a trace. We've got people looking into it now, but no luck so far."

"I'm sure she'll turn up," Jean said. "Call it a certain gut sense…but I think she'll survive whatever it is she's going through now, unscathed."

"I certainly hope so." James finished the last of his drink and stood. "Well—it was wonderful to meet you! I can't believe we look so much alike. I've got to go, though—more urgent business to take care of tonight." He grinned and shook hands with Jean again. Then he offered a hand to Lily. "And you, Miss—ah—"

"Leila," Jean cut in smoothly. "Leila Auteuil.."

"Mlle. Auteuil, a pleasure to meet you too."

"Likewise," Lily allowed James to kiss her hand gallantly. He winked at her, then walked away.

She released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"He didn't recognize you at all," Jean told her, his expression blank.

"I know," she replied. Suddenly coming out for dinner didn't seem like such a wonderful idea after all.

They were walking home from a nearby apparition point when Jean spoke again. They were arm in arm, somehow, and had been walking in companionable silence.

"Carruthers…one can't help but feel for him," Jean said, his voice cutting through the air.

Lily glanced over at him, but the expression on his face was unreadable in the moonlight.

"His last bit of 'family,' gone…" Jean looked out at the empty streets unseeingly. "It makes me feel so lonely."

"Lonely?" Lily asked.

"Yes… as soon as we find that pensieve, you'll leave me behind you, just like you'll discard those robes you're wearing tonight…and go back to England…back to a world where I won't belong…"

"Jean…" Lily started.

"Shh," Jean said, and clasped her hand. Lily fell silent—after all, what could she say? I must leave him soon, was all she could think.

They walked the rest of the way home without saying another word.