Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Art work by the super talented blvnk-art (tumblr) aka potterbyblvnk (insta)

Warning: Violence

Song: Become the Beast by Karliene

The Mother

"I can't believe you ate the last cookie, you twat."

"Really? I feel like you should definitely have suspected that I would. It's really in character, isn't it?"

"James, put me down, I need to go smack him upside the head."

"Prongs, keep her up there, would you? It's easier to spank her bum when you've got it so nicely propped up on your back."

"Oy!"

James rolled his eyes at his best mate and girlfriend's antics as they snuck out of the kitchens after they'd finished their late night snack, Lily riding piggyback. In all honesty, he was actually quite amazed that the two of them had just shagged so successfully considering they'd done nothing but bicker like schoolchildren ever since. (Not that he'd change it for anything in the world.)

Sirius took advantage of Lily's vulnerable position by playing her arse like a drum a few times under her skirt, making Lily yelp. "I swear to Merlin, Black, if you don't cut it out right now—"

"Ooo, Sirius, yes… harder!" he mimicked in a high-pitched tone.

"Hang on," Lily said, swiveling around to see him, "is that supposed to be me?"

"No, that was Prongs," he deadpanned. "No shit, of course that was you. Who else was I just fucking?"

Lily blushed, but she was pretty sure it was mostly due to irritation. "I wasn't moaning for you. Hell, I don't even think I said your name once."

Sirius froze with a pensive look before withdrawing his hands. "Huh. I think you're right. Well, that's fucked up. Why not?"

Lily smirked, tightening her arms around James' neck as he adjusted her higher along his waist, supporting her thighs. She gave him a grateful kiss to the cheek — it really was nice to be as tall as them for once. It was truly unfair how even down to their heights, the pair of them were nothing but pure sex. "I guess you weren't good enough to elicit it."

Sirius' jaw dropped wide open before the rest of him reanimated. "Wait, are you trying to shame me into doing something you want again? I thought we agreed not to do that anymore, sweetheart."

Lily whipped her head back to glare at him. "I thought we agreed—"

Sirius looked around distracted, only just realizing they'd started climbing a staircase. "Prongs, why are we going up? Dungeons are that way." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

"I have to drop the lady off at her dorm so she can pack. I'll catch you back there in a bit."

Lily turned to give him another kiss to the cheek, excited at the prospect of being given a ride all the way up to Gryffindor (she really was quite sore after their rigorous activities), but what — or rather who — she saw standing at the top of the staircase made her blood run cold: Remus, clearly out on a round. Holy shit, he didn't… We weren't talking loud enough that he— did he?

Remus gave her absolutely no clues as to what he had or hadn't heard when he emotionlessly declared, "Detention, all three of you," making Sirius jump.

"Remy," Lily said awkwardly, not quite knowing just how badly she had to salvage the situation, "we were just heading back from the kitchens, you know how—"

"I don't need to hear any excuses, just know I'll be informing Filch of your detentions." Shit.

"Come on, Lupin," Sirius tried, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, Lily noticed that his voice was a little smoother and more mature sounding than how she usually heard it. "It's the last day of term."

"So you can serve it next term." With that, Remus turned on his heel and started stalking off through the Entrance Hall.

"Put me down," Lily whispered in James' ear urgently, hitting his shoulder to speed him up. He obliged her and she quickly sprinted up the last few stairs to catch up with her best friend. "Remy!" she called right as his hand landed on the banister of the next staircase.

He stilled, but didn't turn around.

"Hey, um," Lily twirled a lock of hair around her finger, very much blanking on what to say next, "I don't want you to think that—"

"Think what, Lil?" Remus spat, spinning around. His venom echoed around the hall, and Lily was so thankful that her boys hadn't followed her — but instead were hopefully heading back to the dungeons now. She really didn't want them to hear what she was sure was about to be a very serious reaming out. "Think that my best friend, no I'm sorry, former best friend slept with the only boy I've ever liked?"

Oh fuck. So he heard that. "Remy—"

"Stop calling me that!" Remus bellowed, looking more ferocious than Lily had ever seen him. "I can't even look at you right now," he added more quietly, turning around and taking a step up.

"Wait," Lily pleaded, grabbing for his arm, but he shrugged her off easily, "I can explain." I mean, I can't really, other than: I wanted to do it, so I did… sorry?

Remus scoffed like he knew she was full of shit — having the high ground himself both physically and metaphorically at the moment. "Really?" He took another few steps before his anger got the better of him and he decided to give her some more of his mind. "Merlin, I can't believe you. You knew how much I liked him, you knew— and you still—" His hands balled into fists at his sides. "You know how you always pestered and pestered, asking why I didn't go out with him, why I didn't give him a shot even though I clearly liked him and he kissed me?" He looked her dead in the eye while he delivered his most gut-wrenching blow. "You. I didn't do it because of you. I could never date someone who treated my best friend the way Death Eaters do. I cared about you too much to do that to you, Lil. And sure, you go around and you're still sleeping with Potter, and whatever," he threw his hands in the air, "it's absolutely bonkers, but if those are your morals, go knock yourself out—"

Lily needed him to stop. This was her oldest friend. Her only friend. If he was fully giving up on her, what did that say about who she was as a person? "Remus—"

"—but I wasn't about to sacrifice mine just because you were. I mean, did I think about it every night for the past six years? Did I dream about that soddening snog Sirius gave me? Yes, but I couldn't—" Oh no. Oh no no no. Remus looked like he was about to cry. "And then you… You turn around and you sleep with him?"

Lily didn't know what to say. She didn't know what she even could say. She knew she'd fucked up — hell, she'd even known that sleeping with Sirius was wrong before she'd done it… but she'd done it anyway. Why?!

Remus twisted the knife in deeper. "Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

"Remus…" Lily's voice cracked. "I'm sorry."

"That's bullshit! Your 'sorry' means nothing. You knew how much I liked him! You know what he means to me—"

Lily was glad he was angry, if only because it meant the tears brimming in his eyes wouldn't fall. She latched onto what he said like a lifeline. "It didn't mean anything to me! It was just sex!"

Remus shook his head, looking at her standing below him on the ground floor as though she were vile. "Well. It meant something to me, Lily. It meant something to me." He let out a disgusted exhale as he resumed his walk back to his dorm, muttering under his breath, "Stay the hell away from me."

It was quite a shock to realize that a man would rather go through the most painful transformation — every month for the rest of his life — than remain her friend. After all, without Lily, how would he get his hands on any more Wolfsbane Potion? Was she truly a worse option than literal torture? Was being her friend that much of a punishment?

Lily hadn't registered that she'd sunken to the floor until she felt two gentle hands reaching under her body and picking her up.

"James?" she asked, wiping her face as she looked up to him. She was surprised to find that her cheeks were completely dry.

"Sh, it's all right, love," he whispered, holding her close as he led her back to Slytherin. "Let's get some sleep now and I'll help you pack tomorrow, yeah?"

That sounded great. Lily didn't know if she could stomach setting foot in Gryffindor right now. It had never been more painstakingly obvious that there was absolutely nothing left for her there.

"Are you serious? This is your house? This monstrosity?" Lily asked, mouth hanging wide open as they stood in the driveway (Or is it a street? I don't think normal driveways are this long…) after having Apparated from King's Cross. Being Heads, they'd had to take the train back, despite James' new ability to leave straight from the castle, but Lily found she really didn't mind all that much considering James was hellbent on distracting her from her problems with sex. There were probably more than a few pedestrians outside the scarlet engine who got a good eyeful of her tits as James had them pressed up against the glass window while he took her from behind.

"Monstrosity?" James questioned happily. "I don't know. I rather like it. It's homey." Lily snorted and followed him to the front door, levitating their bags along the way. They had barely even gotten a few steps past the threshold before James had Lily dropping their stuff to the ground as he picked her up by the waist, wrapping her legs around him and pinning her against the wall with his body.

Lily gasped before giggling, clutching onto his shoulders. "Twice on the train wasn't enough, baby?" she cooed.

James kissed along the column of her throat before taking a small nip, growling as Lily brought up her shoulder to shield herself from his onslaught. "I can never get enough of you."

Lily laughed as she pushed him back slightly, placing her feet back onto the carpet. "Down boy, we have all vacation. Plus I want a tour of this stupid manor first."

"It's stupid now too, huh? I think it's brilliant. You know," he pushed some of her hair back, exposing more of her neck for him, "brilliance runs in my blood."

Lily rolled her eyes. If this was her boyfriend when he was relaxed and on holiday, sign her the fuck up. "What about humility? Does humility, by any chance, also run in your blood?"

"Oh no, Evans." He grinned wicked, pressing her firmly into the wall with his pelvis while his hands were free to straighten the lapels of her cloak. "I'm afraid that one has to be taught."

Lily laid a hand on his stomach, slowly pushing her palm up his chest. "Is that what I'm here for? To teach you some lessons?"

He stole a few more kisses, each more tender than the last, his mouth skimming past hers longingly between pecks as his grip migrated up to her jaw, nudging her nose while he adjusted his angle. "No, baby. You're nothing but fuel for my ego." Lily groaned as he ran his tongue along her lower lip, teasing, tasting. "Only adding to that fire."

Lily smiled as he pushed off her cloak, letting it crumple to the ground before he began undoing her shirt's buttons, eager as always to get her undressed. "Where are we starting?"

"My room. It's a longstanding dream to make you come a thousand and one ways in there."

She giggled as he got rid of her top too, slapping away one of his hands as it reached for her skirt. "Perhaps we should actually get there first then?"

As if realizing his overzealous actions, James blinked a few times, looking up from her bra-clad tits to her face, his own softening. "Merlin, you're so fucking fit, I swear I lose my mind sometimes," he breathed, cupping her face once more. "Just look at you." He bit his lip. "Gorgeous."

He looked like he'd never meant it more, and Lily couldn't help the way her heart fluttered. "You're such a sap."

He planted another delicate kiss on her lips, lingering there, begging her to stay in this moment with him. She did. "Thank you for coming home with me. It means a lot."

Lily pulled back, leaning her head against the wall so she could look into his eyes. Is he serious? He was the one doing her the massive favor — without him, she wouldn't have anywhere else to go. Thoughts of the next few weeks flashed before her eyes: curled up with him by the fire, decorating a tree, learning how to cook; shit, she didn't know — what did people usually do over the holidays at home anyway? Her last time with loved ones had been when she was six.

Lily's moment of quiet reflection was apparently too much for James, who was primed up and ready to go, and he started fiddling with her pink bra strap, slipping his index finger underneath and running it up and down, watching the way the motion jiggled her breast. Men.

"You're welcome," she replied, giving him a wink. "You know, if you want to properly thank me for so graciously granting you my presence, you can start by giving me a massage." James opened his mouth, eyes twinkling, so she hurriedly tacked on, "A real massage."

James smirked and grunted, grabbing her around the waist and hoisting her up over his shoulder, making Lily squeal before he turned around and walked them towards the master staircase. An impressive chandelier with hundreds of crystals gleamed overhead. "Fine, but in my bed." He gave a good smack to her arse, dangling over his shoulder. "I can get your kinks out before I get all of my kinks out on you."

Lily laughed the entire journey up the stairs, and down the hall, through a door that connected to another hall, and — fuck it, she had no idea how they ended up where they did, but she sure as hell knew what they were doing once they got there.

The next week and a half passed in a blur of happiness… and sex. So much backbreaking, toe-curling sex that Lily thought they'd unlocked some sort of new level of mastery, or were training for a worldwide championship, or who the hell knew anymore. It got to the point that even James wondered if maybe they should take a day off, just to prove to themselves that they could, because life wasn't all about sex, and they could very much enjoy each other's company without shagging every couple hours, thank you very much. They were in love — sometimes they could just relax and play a nice, simple board game.

That plan only lasted until 6 that night when Lily spilt some pasta sauce on her shirt, scooped it off with her finger, and then popped it into her mouth. Before she knew it, James was fucking her on the kitchen table, her legs in the air, and their first attempt at homemade pasta was reduced to a big blob of gluten.

Luckily for them, they also got to enjoy all the endorphins and lovey-dovey feelings that came from all their orgasms between shags. James surprised Lily by challenging her to a snowball fight a few days before Christmas, but then reaffirmed all her previous notions of him by completely dominating her and pelting her with snow, showing absolutely no mercy. (She was very happy to get her revenge however by pretending to seduce him, only to shove a handful of snow into his pants. He said she'd regret that later when his bits froze clean off. She told him she'd manage just fine on her own.) Lily surprised James by being super amendable to learning how to fly on his broom, but reaffirmed all of his previous notions by being spectacularly terrible at it. (He told her not to fret however, because apparently he was good enough for both of them. This quip earned him another snowball to the face.)

Perhaps her favorite time at the estate so far though, was one lazy night they spent cuddling on his couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and tracing each other's skin. James had stilled when Lily pushed up the left sleeve of his jumper to reveal his forearm, but Lily eased his worries by bringing his tattoo gently to her lips, and kissing its edges. "So I was thinking…" she began.

James tucked the crown of her head under his chin, his right arm encircling her waist. "Dangerous…"

"Shut up," she giggled. "So I was wondering, what are we gonna change this into?"

"Change it?" James asked back confused.

"Well yeah." Lily wriggled around so that she was facing him in his arms. "When the time comes. You'll need your own mark, won't you?" His eyes glinted. "What will yours be?"

That was when James finally revealed to her that he could turn into a stag at will, and then they decided deer were much prettier than snakes anyway, so why not have one as his mark? James really enjoyed the fact that Lily's Patronus was a doe so that the tattoo could stand for both of them. They talked for hours about the complexities of magic, and just what sort of charms would be required to make such a drastic change to the design, but by they end of the night, James was confident he could do it with Lily's help.

Her least favorite part of the vacation was how she kept having to turn away McGonagall's owl — persistent little bugger that he was — because she had absolutely no desire to read anything the professor had to say to her.

"Babe, we're out of milk!" Lily cried out from the kitchen as she rummaged through his pantry. They'd fallen into a nice little routine of making each other breakfast, alternating mornings, and today was her turn. James had made her the most mouthwateringly scrumptious crêpes of her life the day before, so she had no idea how on earth she was supposed to top it today. She'd barely been able to contain herself seeing her man in the kitchen, mixing ingredients in bowls, flour smudged oh-so-cutely on his cheek as he prepared her a meal. There was something just so indescribably sexy about a man who could cook.

"I'll tell Elf to get some today," he called back, his voice wafting down from somewhere upstairs.

"You think he's forgiven us for what he walked in on yesterday?" Lily joked, wild grin plastered on her face.

"He'll get over it."

Lily chuckled. She was so busy pondering how wonderfully domestic this all was as she shut the pantry door — making food, amusing themselves, playing dirty games under the glittering lights of the Christmas tree and having the time of their lives — that she almost missed the woman standing on the other side of it. Almost.

Lily screamed, dropping the bottle of juice she'd scrounged up, and leapt back, almost out of her skin. After the initial fright of seeing a stranger in their house wore off, she remembered she was nearly naked, wearing nothing more than a skimpy thong and one of James' unbuttoned school shirts, flapping wide open. She quickly yanked it shut over her body as she heard James bounding down the stairs, skidding into the kitchen in a full-blown panic. The woman remained motionless, all except for her eyes that scanned Lily up and down, a terrible leer stuck on her face complete with a raised eyebrow and curled lip. "Who the hell are you?!" Lily screeched. Whoever she was, she looked a bit like the Halloween decoration that Lily's neighbors had hung around their homes in her old town growing up.

"Mother!" James yelped, crossing the length of the kitchen and standing protectively in front of Lily. Suddenly seeing nothing but his delicious back muscles made her realize that he was clad in only his grey sweatpants, yet half an outfit looked far less scandalous on him than on her — even if it was decidedly just as hot. The tips of his hair were still wet, remnants of the shower they'd just taken together.

Oh fuck… that can't be… please don't let that be— Fuck! Lily thought wildly, crossing her arms more tightly over her chest, freaking out. For some reason, this mystery woman looked far too old to be James' mother. How much of that did she hear? How long was she standing there? And why the fuck couldn't she have made herself known sooner?! Presumably she'd been there, lounging in their house — well, I suppose it's her house — for some time now. Lily hadn't heard any pops of Apparation or the roar of the Floo, so why not at least cough or something? Had she wanted to embarrass the living daylights out of them?

"I have to say, this wasn't the hello I was expecting," James' mother said, and Lily was suddenly, and for no discernible reason at all, reminded of nails on a chalkboard.

Lily realized she couldn't just stand there, having a minor breakdown like this forever and instead reached around James to pluck his wand out of his pocket — hers lying out of reach on the counter — and summoned over some jeans of her own from upstairs. This was a fucking disaster! Who met their boyfriend's mother in their knickers while he stood there looking as wonderfully and thoroughly shagged as he currently did?

However, Lily supposed it wasn't like the woman would ever have liked her anyway. She hadn't been keeping up with the news too closely recently, far too busy on more pleasurable pursuits, but unless Euphemia Potter had had a lobotomy, she doubted her stances had changed that drastically in recent times.

"Mother," James repeated dumbstruck, as though still trying to process that she was actually standing there in their kitchen.

"Son," Euphemia responded tonelessly.

"I thought you were in Vienna?" James stammered. Once Lily had finished hastily doing up all her buttons, she stepped out next to James, glancing up at him. Is he… scared? She hadn't seen him look like this since the day he had told her he could read her mind and he was terrified she'd leave him. Why did he fear his own mother? Lily had always assumed that they had a good relationship considering they were all the other had. Yeah, like you and Petunia? her inner monologue scoffed at her. Fine, perhaps that wasn't the best reason to assume they were close, but hadn't James always defended his mum against Lily's slights? Or is that just on principle?

For the first time, Lily considered that perhaps coming home while his mother was away (which was usually the case if James' stories were to be believed) wasn't only for her sake — but for both of theirs.

"The vote's tomorrow. I figured I had some time to come home and see my son."

The implication was clear: her son, and only her son. Lily felt James' hand slip into hers, their fingers interlocking.

"Oh. I thought you hated England this time of year," he offered unsurely.

"Well. I suppose there are some things I hate more." Lily noticed that James didn't make any moves to approach his mum, and she remained perfectly ramrod still in return. All at once, all the hairs on Lily's arms stood straight up.

James cleared his throat. "Mother, this is Lily. Lily this is my… mum."

"Nice to—"

"I know," Euphemia cut off Lily's response without so much as a glance in her direction. Oh, this bitch is something else all right. "I've heard." The awkward silence seemed to stretch for an eternity as Euphemia pointedly ignored Lily but Lily soaked in every detail about her right up. Euphemia looked far more Mediterranean than James, but had the same jet black hair — hers lying perfectly straight and clearly magically dyed to prevent from greying — and haughty cheekbones. Lily would even go so far as to say she had probably been very pretty back in the day — if she had smiled. Lily relished the thought of saying something so condescending to her face. Then again, she might kill me for it. Lily wondered if James would defend her in such a scenario. It was preposterous to be jealous of the possible bond a son had with his mother, wasn't it? Lily knew James loved her, but she had no idea where she fell in this particular hierarchy — especially now that mother and son seemed to be stuck in some weird kind of stare off.

Euphemia broke first. "Elf!" she yelled out before a pop indicated the house-elf had obeyed her summons. "Bring the girl to the servants' quarters. She needs to be properly hosed off; she reeks of sex."

Just as Lily opened her mouth, wholly affronted, figuring, fuck it, the woman already detests me, no point in not defending myself, James spoke up instead, "No. I'll bring her upstairs to change."

"Son—"

"We'll be right back for breakfast, if you're staying." James squeezed Lily's hand before tugging it along behind him, walking them up the stairs.

Was there anyone left in the whole wide world who didn't disapprove of their relationship? Lily wasn't sure anymore, but if anything, it only strengthened her resolve to prove them all wrong. She and James were solid. They'd see that one day — they'll all see.

As they got to the second floor, she heard Euphemia ordering about her house-elf to get rid of the 'mud' on the ground. They hadn't even been outside yet today, so Lily knew with 100 percent certainty just what she meant with her specific language.

"I'm so sorry about that," James whispered, dragging her into a room and closing the door quickly behind them. "I really thought she'd be away all holiday."

"What the fuck was that down there?" Lily questioned, scrutinizing the hell out of him.

"What do you mean?" James blinked blankly like he genuinely didn't know.

Lily's eyebrows flew up her forehead. "What do you mean, what do I mean?" She pointed to the general vicinity of the disaster that had just taken place downstairs. "That? You looked petrified of her, James."

James looked thoroughly insulted. "I'm not scared of my mother, Evans."

Yikes. Defensive. "Then I repeat: what was that?"

James took a step back before turning around and walking towards a window. It was the first time Lily had been inside this particular room (after all, there were just so many) and noticed it was some sort of taxidermy haven. From every wall, beady black eyes stared back at her, the animals they'd belonged to all long since dead yet still here, frozen in time. "That was respect."

"Bullshit," Lily threw out. "You froze."

"I did not—"

"And what was with the staring? Do you read her mind too?"

James scoffed, clasping his hands behind his back as he looked out over the sparkling white, sprawling grounds of his backyard. "No, of course not. Do you know how often I used to look into yours and see sex? Why would I want to see that with my own mother?" Hm. He had a point. "I'd like to keep the memories I have of my father pristine. And very much clothed."

Lily sighed and walked up to James, hugging him from behind. "Sorry."

He remained stoic and motionless, making no move to accept her embrace, and Lily rather despised it. Is this what five minutes of his mother's presence did to him? She just wanted that happy, horny mood he'd had all but ten minutes ago — and continuously for the past ten days — back. "No, I'm sorry. I really didn't think she'd come here or I'd never have brought you."

She understood what he meant, but hearing his words still stung a little. With his physical rejection and now this one, Lily had an overwhelming urge to leave. "Okay, well, I can just go back to Hogwarts for the rest of—"

That snapped James out of it. He spun around and grabbed her retreating wrist. "No, don't," he said ardently. "Stay for brunch. We can go to my cottage afterwards." He gave her a small smile. "It doesn't have the same amenities, but it's quieter. More private."

Considering it was probably the house-elf who had alerted his mother of what was going on back at her estate, perhaps that was for the best. Lily perched on her toes and gave him a kiss. "Sounds perfect." She tilted her head. "Do we have to stay to eat though? Your mother clearly already hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," James argued, but before Lily could refute his boldfaced lie, he tacked on, "she hates how you were born. There's a difference. She doesn't know you."

"Well, I'm not really up for teaching her any differently, so can we just—"

"Please, Lils?" James begged, taking her other hand and bringing both to his chest. How his bare skin radiated such heat in late December was beyond her. "Please? Just one meal, it's all I ask."

Lily sighed. He really did so rarely ever ask anything of her. "Why though?" Lily understood the need to prove herself. She understood being obstinate and digging in her heels in order to try to force other people to come around to her way of thinking when she knew she was in the right. But this? This was hopeless. Lily knew that no amount of dangling his girlfriend in front of his mother would ever make her see how much James loved her. Euphemia would never accept her — plain and simple. Some prejudice was just too great to overcome.

James shrugged his shoulders, a deep huff coming up out of his lungs. "She's my mother."

It was true.

… And Lily hated it.

How were she and this woman supposed to coexist in the same realm? Lily felt like she had only just wrapped her head around the concept of she and James being allowed to be together — but being chummy with his mum? Trying to win her over, or at the very least convince her that she should be allowed to remain alive, let alone date her son? Well, that was pushing it. Lily knew enough about her to know that she very much did not hold the same beliefs as her son about Muggle-borns. Lily suspected that Euphemia wished that she and her kind would be wiped off the face of the planet — and those looks she'd given her downstairs? That was more than enough confirmation for those suspicions.

After having slipped on a nice pastel dress that James had bought her for an outing into town that they had planned for later in the week, Lily and James returned downstairs together, Lily taking a deep steadying breath to prepare herself. She had a sinking feeling that either she or Euphemia would not survive their next encounter, and like hell it was going to be her.

Euphemia had seated herself at the head of the table in the dining room, two settings made up on her either side. Well, at least I'm not being relegated to eating in the servants' quarters.

"James," Euphemia announced, the corner of her mouth twitching with the clear awkwardness of trying to push out affection that wasn't really there, "that's much better."

James' hand instinctually came up to his chest, smoothing out wrinkles from his shirt that had never been there. "Good morning," he droned dutifully.

Lily felt like she was in some weird sort of twilight zone. What, are we just going to pretend like the earlier encounter never happened? That seems totally normal and sane. It was nearly impossible for her to reconcile the strong, commanding presence that James had at school — the leader that most of Hogwarts followed and respected — with this shell of a human being beside her now. What the hell had she done to him?

"Good morning, darling. Please. Sit."

James shyly (Shyly? Shyly?!) pulled Lily's chair out for her, helping her in, before he walked around the table to take his own spot. "Thank you, James," Lily whispered.

"Elf!" Euphemia snapped. Lily's knees hit the bottom of the table with the unexpected outburst. Euphemia muttered under her breath like she hadn't noticed. "And then they want us to change the laws to include tipping? Can you imagine? Paying someone extra to bring you a plate?" She took her napkin from under her knife and whipped it open, placing it demurely across her lap. "As if that isn't a servant's job. Why would I ever pay someone for a job so simple an elf can do it?" The house-elf appeared balancing two very full plates laden with breakfast foods and a metal bowl of only baked beans as Euphemia's voice got louder. "Although clearly not very well." The elf laid the two plates before Euphemia and James and then the bowl in front of Lily. Lily looked at it, wondering if perhaps they'd ever owned a dog before; the bowl had definitely not been designed for human use. "Either way, I pointed out to the Ministry, restaurants should just hire house-elves anyway. It's a one-time fee, and then you never have to pay them again. Cuts out all the labor costs, now doesn't it? And it's not like elves will ask for vacation days or sick pay, so, budget problems solved." She smiled at James as though waiting for him to bask in her brilliance.

Her smile fell off her face though when she saw James lean forward and switch out his plate for Lily's bowl. "Now, son—"

"James, you don't have to—"

"I fucking love beans," James cut them both off, sticking his fork in and taking a huge bite. His swallow looked nearly painful. "Mm." Lily knew for a fact that James hated baked beans. (And she'd never asked, but she could bet that he especially hated cold ones.)

"Language," Euphemia scolded sharply, and even Lily felt properly reprimanded, which was impressive because she didn't think the witch had actually even looked at her once since she'd come back downstairs.

"Sorry, mother."

Euphemia forced another smile onto her thin lips. "So, son. Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course, mother."

"And you're doing well in school, yes?"

"Yes, mother." Another question, another uncharacteristically short and soulless answer from her boyfriend. Even if Euphemia treated her like a saint, Lily would have hated her for what her mere presence was turning James into. Lily tried to catch his eye, wanting to give him a smile or look of support, or something, but he kept staring resolutely into his bowl.

Enough. "Euphemia, James tells me you're working on a new law. What is it this time?" Lily threw out, wanting to save her boyfriend. Sure, it was a snarky question, and one she was sure she would absolutely hate the answer to, but she'd take the heat if it got James' mother to give him the space that he so clearly needed right now.

It seemed as though Euphemia was seeing if there was any way that she could reasonably pretend that she hadn't heard Lily. The large grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticked ominously for ten seconds, with both James and Lily not giving into the temptation of trying to move on to some other conversation. Lily cut her sausage and placed a slice delicately in her mouth, savoring its saltiness as she waited for the woman to acknowledge her. Euphemia's hatred of Muggle-borns was currently being put at direct odds with her upperclass upbringing on how to be a proper host, and Lily watched as an angry flush blotched across the old lady's neck.

It worked. Straightening her back, Euphemia turned to Lily, her hazel eyes familiar and yet so foreign as she said, "We're pushing a new law that bans Mudbloods from attempting to breed with Purebloods. Hopefully it will go into effect by end of day tomorrow." Her eyes dropped reproachfully to Lily's stomach. "I don't think it would be a moment too soon."

Holy shit. There was knowing someone was a bigot, and then there was them coming right out and saying it. Lily's fork froze in her mouth, her teeth unintentionally clamping down on the metal as James gasped across from her. "Mother—"

Euphemia ignored him, a small smile playing on her lips as she watched Lily's shocked expression. "We've only just secured enough votes for it to pass." She cut up a sliver of her fried tomato and brought it to her mouth, taking her time to chew it as though she actually liked the flavor — the psychopath. "I think I'm going to name it the Lily Act. You know, because people perceive lilies to be a symbol of purity. It's important to keep that image alive, don't you think? Remind people what we're fighting for."

Okay, so there's crazy, and then there's batshit, I'm-gonna-make-it-illegal-for-you-to-fuck-my-son insane.

Lily cut up a bit of her bacon and chewed on it, making satisfyingly loud crunches. "I don't know. It seems like something only someone truly perverted would attempt to control." Lily reached for her cup of tea and took an innocent sip as the mirth slipped from Euphemia's face, completely upset that someone would dare go toe to toe with her. "Why would any decent person care about how others choose to breed?"

A thick, blue vein running up Euphemia's forehead started to throb madly. "Perhaps because they care about the pedigree of future generations."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Or because they're scared," she said simply. "I find that a lot of silly little laws that aim to control other people are written in fear." She finally tore her eyes away from Euphemia and looked back at James, loving what she saw there a whole lot more. He was watching her in awe, as though he too couldn't believe that someone was putting his mother in her place like this. She was proud, but she also rather felt like he should have been the one to do this years ago. "We shouldn't be afraid of our own potential. We shouldn't have to live in fear, and we shouldn't let others control us. Someone very smart taught me that."

James gave her a small smirk, reaching his open palm forward, offering for Lily to take it across the table. Lily did, loving both how he closed his fingers around hers and how Euphemia was watching the action as though a cockroach had just crawled onto the middle of her pristine tablecloth. "No living in fear," James repeated, looking at her in such a way that Lily could almost forget that his mother was still there. (And she might have, if she wasn't loving just how infuriated the woman was.)

Euphemia cleared her throat, clearly realizing she had to up her game because Lily was a far more formidable opponent than she'd originally thought. "So Lily," she began, taking another dainty bite of her proper English breakfast, "what are your plans for after school?"

Lily hesitated, not really sure how to answer. Of course she wanted to be a Healer, but those were her lofty aspirations. She had no idea what steps she needed to take in order to make them a reality or where she was going to live or how she would afford training or what—

"She's going to be a Healer," James supplied easily, squeezing her hand. "She's already a damn good one too. She's saved my life on more than one occasion."

Lily thought she heard Euphemia let out a very unladylike snort as she picked up her tea. "Wonderful. What a splendid dream."

Great. She's probably already drafting up some new law that would make it illegal for me to get a job by the end of the year. "Thank you. It really, really is." Fuck you, bitch.

"Son," Why does she keep calling him that like she's forgotten his fucking name? "would you please go cut some more wood for the fire? The house is getting a little drafty."

"Oh, I can just do another charm—" James offered, hand already pulling his wand out of his pocket, eager to do something to help alleviate the horrible tension in the room.

"Oh no, you know I prefer the smell of actual burning wood," Euphemia said with a horrible tinkling laugh. "Would you be a dear…?"

James' shoulders slumped, knowing he had no other options. "Of course, mother." He got up and walked around the table. Lily didn't mean to notice that Euphemia had offered up her cheek, but she did, right as James leant down and kissed hers instead. "I'll be right back," James whispered in her ear.

Lily looked down at her plate a little too pleased as she grinned. "Okay," she replied.

Euphemia waited until the back door had clicked shut before turning to Lily, all her former air of civility dropped clean off her face. Her teeth were bared and if looks could kill, Lily would be six feet under the frozen ground right about now. Sirius had been right: she really did have a politician's voice when she wanted to. "So. You're the harlot who's trying to turn my son soft."

"Excuse me?" Lily spat back. As if anyone could turn James Potter soft. Also… what kind of mother worries about such a thing?! There were so many concerns she could have had in this moment — why was that the first one on her mind?

"Oh. Do Muggles have problems hearing too?" Euphemia placed a bony hand over her heart mockingly. "My poor dear."

Would it be considered elder abuse to punch her straight in the nose? "I'm not a Muggle," Lily bristled.

Euphemia raised an eyebrow in challenge as she picked up her fork once more. "Close enough."

This was unbelievable. "No one can turn your son soft, ma'am. James is one of the toughest, strongest people I know, and you should be very proud—"

"Don't tell me to be proud of my own son!" Euphemia hissed, her lips pressed in a thin line and her whole body trembling in rage. "I raised him, I know who he is." She let out a mad little titter as she reached for her tea, bringing it to her lips purely for show. "The man he is today is because of me. I shaped him, I molded him, I showed him the goddamn way, so don't you dare come into my house and try to tell me how to feel."

Lily instantly felt bad for every poor thought she'd ever had of James in the past. If this was his example, how the hell had he turned out so good? This woman was far too possessive of an adult child for Lily's tastes. "James makes his own choices. He's a grown man."

Euphemia stared at her for a long time, her smile growing wider and wider. "Stupid girl. You actually think he'll pick you, don't you? I don't know what he's told you, but my son is an exquisite liar. But do you know the one person who he'll never fool? Me." She was proud of this fact, Lily realized. Unlike a rational, sane mother, Euphemia was not only pleased with her child's ability to deceive others, but somehow also more proud of her own ability to detect his deception. Lily had a sneaking suspicion that everything always came back to her in this household. "You think that you, some bimbo he's been with for a few weeks, is more important than the woman who taught him everything he knows?"

Suddenly, everything clicked into place: Euphemia's hatred for her veered a lot more into the territory of nervousness than Lily had originally thought. It was about more than just her blood status, Euphemia was actually threatened by Lily's hold over her son. She wanted that power all to herself.

Oo, this woman was nuts — and knew how to push buttons all right. Luckily, Lily was no longer a pushover herself, and she was starting to realize what Euphemia's buttons might be. "The way I heard it, it was his father who taught him that."

Euphemia threw her head back laughing, a trait that was so endearing when James or Sirius did it, but looked downright sociopathic on her. "Fleamont? Fleamont? You think Fleamont Potter influenced my son at all?"

What is she getting at?

Euphemia put down her cup and leaned forward so Lily wouldn't miss a single word. Her fist turned white as it clenched around her fork. "Fleamont Potter was a weak, pathetic man who never learnt where his loyalties should lie."

What? The reverence in James' voice whenever he talked about his father did not match how his own wife was describing him right now.

"I always told him that the Dark Lord was our key to salvation, but he wanted to stay out of it." She sat up straighter, adjusting her napkin on her dainty lap. "Spineless little man."

Why is she telling me this? What the fuck is her angle? "If you hated him so much, then why did you marry him?" Lily asked nonplussed.

Euphemia looked at Lily as though she pitied her complete lack of intelligence. "Child, when a descendent of the Peverell family wants to continue his bloodline with you, you can't say no," she considered her words, "well, when you are actually worthy of said bloodline." Lily had no idea who the fuck she was talking about. So James' father had been part of some important magical family? Great. Big fucking deal. I'm not, and look at me: my magic is pretty frigging awesome as well. Also, was that what kids were to this lady? Merely a continuation of a bloodline? What kind of fucked up thinking was that? Had she ever even truly wanted James — as more than just a symbol of her status? Or was he merely just that? It would certainly explain her cold, callous treatment of her son. "I knew with his blood, and my brains and ambition, we would make a god." She let out a humorless little laugh. "Course, that would only work if Fleamont never got a chance to poison his mind. Blood can only get you so far — you still need a proper upbringing. A firm hand. That man was always ruled by his emotions, never capable of doing what had to be done."

Wait, what the fuck is she talking about now? "Why are you telling me this?" Lily breathed, watching the woman in absolute horror.

Euphemia tilted her head. "You really aren't very bright, are you?"

Okay, that's it. "Look—" Lily began, but her retort turned into a scream as in one smooth motion, Euphemia lunged forward with her fork, stabbing Lily through her hand, pinning it to the table. Lily tried yanking it back, but Euphemia only pushed the fork down harder, lodging it into the wood and trapping Lily's hand.

"Listen to me, and listen well," Euphemia said between clenched teeth, twisting the prongs of the utensil through Lily's palm, making her scream anew. "James is my son. My son. He will never belong to you — he is the Dark Lord's now. I did not take care of him in order for some Mudblood hussy to try to steal him from us now." Lily's blood was seeping out over her white tablecloth, but Euphemia was too busy relishing in the pain written so clearly over Lily's face to notice. "The Dark Lord knows all I have done for him, all I have sacrificed, and he has been rewarding us well. Taking James under his wing. Being the mentor he deserves. The Dark Lord knows of James' lineage and has the proper amount of respect for it. He agrees that he is destined for great things."

Lily looked over her shoulder, trying to figure out if she could see outside, but Euphemia yanked her face back by the chin, wishing to continue her deranged rant. Lily had a sinking feeling that the room had been silenced. "My son is special. He has been trained his whole life for this, and I will not let you take that from him. I did not join into this family only to see you squander our blood one generation later."

Lily felt her eyes welling up and tried her absolute hardest not to let her tears fall. She could not show this witch any weakness that she would automatically jump on. She clearly had a message she was trying to impart on her, so the sooner she got it off her chest, the sooner Lily could get this fork out of her hand. "What do you want?"

Euphemia leaned in, and twisted her fork just for fun, grinning when Lily flinched. "I want you to know that I've killed before, and I would so easily do it again — gladly even in your case."

Lily's mind was racing, the pain shooting up her arm spiking her adrenaline. They'd gone from pretend civil discourse to fight or flight mode real fucking quickly, and Lily should honestly have known better than to expect anything less from a Potter. "You're fucking crazy! You killed your husband?!" she gasped between wheezes. "You killed him and took his money?"

"Of course the gold digger orphan thinks it's all about money," Euphemia snarled. "Fleamont's money was always my money. I built his company. You think he could have built an empire?" She pulled back, laughing, but her grip on her fork remained ironclad. "He was always too busy tinkering away in his lab. Singing stupid Muggle songs, trying to be his son's friend instead of showing him a strong example of what it takes to be a man."

Without warning, Euphemia pulled her fork straight up and out, bringing it to her napkin and wiping Lily's blood off before dropping it to the floor for Elf to replace. She accepted his newly proffered fork without looking back at him, but instead holding it up under the light of the window to see if it had been polished correctly. "Murder takes paperwork and a lot of wasted money, you see, so I'd rather not jump to it first thing, but don't doubt that it's an option I'll still consider. Of course a lot more people care when a wizard dies than when it's just a Mudblood wench, but still." Satisfied with the state of the fork, she placed it back down next to her plate, perfectly straight. "Stay away from my son." It was so obvious in that moment that Euphemia didn't give a shit about James' happiness and never actually had. She just had needed someone who could continue and protect her legacy, and had therefore made him. Lily's poor boyfriend had had to deal with one parent's death, rejection from the remaining one, emotional deprivation, a complete lack of affection… Truth be told, Lily was surprised he had grown up to be even half the man he was today and wasn't just completely stunted.

Also, Lily realized, if James' happiness meant nothing, then she meant even less than nothing. To Euphemia, she was merely a roadblock on his path to greatness that needed to be eliminated. Her death threat was real — very, very real.

"I know he has his vices, but his potential truly is unparalleled. I won't let you stop him," Euphemia simpered.

Leave it to this bitch to think love is a vice. Lily flexed her hand, cringing the entire time. "I never planned on stopping him," she whispered.

"Good. Then we agree. You can pack up your bags right after we finish here." She picked up her teacup with a self-satisfied smile before looking back at Lily's hand, dripping blood onto her linen. "You said you were a Healer, girl, fix it before you stain any more."

Lily healed the four little holes right before James came lumbering back into the room, arms full of logs, depositing them in front of the fire before chucking a few in. Everyone in the room remained perfectly quiet during the entire process. It wasn't until James turned around, ready to sit back down in his spot, that his eyes fell to the pool of red near Lily's butter plate. "Lily?" he asked, eyes darting from the blood to her and back again. The look on his face made Lily startlingly aware that this probably wasn't the first time Euphemia had attacked someone like this. With a plummeting heart, she vowed the next time she got James naked, she would closely inspect every centimeter of his body for scars.

"I need to go. Will you walk me up?" Lily said, folding her napkin and putting it on her plate. She didn't want to even look at Euphemia to see her reaction as she sipped her tea, thinking she'd won.

James nodded, following her out of the dining room and up the stairs. She could feel the trepidation and disappointment rolling off of him in waves.

The thing was — Euphemia's hubris was so great, that she had no idea she'd just met her greatest adversary yet. Lily knew she was about to take her down so easily, and this woman couldn't even see it coming. Lily supposed James had inherited his arrogance from her. (Well, she supposed he'd gotten all his odious traits from her.) She suddenly wished she could have met his father. Another surge of hatred flowed through her for this woman who had stolen that from James — stolen his dad and his chance for so much better.

As soon as they were in the safety of his room, James descended upon Lily, grabbing her hand and studying it. "Did she hurt you? Did you perform a disinfecting charm?"

"James—" She pulled back her palm.

"I'm so sorry, love. I shouldn't have left you. I don't know what I was thinking. I thought she might just talk rubbish at you, I had no idea she'd actually lay a finger—"

"James—" Lily tried again to cut off his nervous rambling, but it was no use. He looked like a trapped animal, pacing around his room, his hands nervously running through his hair.

"Let's go. You were right: we should have left as soon as she got here, I just hoped that—"

"Babe," she said more firmly, grabbing both his hands in hers, "listen to me." He finally stared into her eyes, still looking more like a scared little boy than she'd ever seen him look before. "I need you to read my mind."

His eyebrows cleared straight up into his shaggy hair. "What?"

Lily took a step closer, very much knowing what she was doing. "I need to show you something that you deserve to know, babe." She leaned up and gave him a quick, chaste kiss. "I'm sorry."

James looked confused, tilting his head adorably. "Are you sure?" His eyes narrowed. "This isn't a test?"

Lily gave him a small smile. "No, baby. It's not a test. But it will hurt like hell."

James squared his shoulders and licked his lips. "Okay… do you have the memory ready?" Lily nodded, holding her eyes open wide. James smirked, giving her a wink. "You don't have to do anything special, just looking at me is fine."

Lily stuck out her tongue quickly, but then focused on everything that had just happened downstairs with his mother. She could tell the exact moment James tapped into her thoughts because all the frivolity vanished from his face and a small wrinkle appeared between his brows. She saw in his flinch the moment he relived her getting stabbed and saw in his eyes the second Euphemia alluded to killing his father.

And that was the moment Lily knew Euphemia was a goner.

James staggered back, dropping Lily's hands, luckily collapsing onto his bed behind him. "What?" he breathed, barely above a whisper, as he tried to comprehend his own life. "No. No… that can't be… there's no way…" Hazel looked at emerald almost pleadingly. "No. It was my fault, Lils. My mother wouldn't have made me believe th—that it was— this whole time?" His gaze got lost in space.

Lily moved in front of James, getting on her knees between his and holding onto his thighs. He looked so shattered, so vulnerable, and she just wanted to hold him in her arms and protect him from the truth, but she knew that now was not the time. He could fall apart later, now was the time for action. "James. It was never your fault. Your father's death wasn't your fault." She forced down a dry swallow. "It was your mother's fault."

"No. Why—?"

"You saw why."

James shook his head, but his facial expression had already changed. Shock morphed into pain for a millisecond before he realized that pain was weakness he couldn't afford to show. All that was left was a mask of pure, hot unadulterated rage — her Death Eater was back. She could see it in his eyes. "Stay up here, Lily."

He stood up and marched for the door, his movements surprisingly self-assured for someone who had just had a bit of a mental breakdown. "What are you going to—?" she began asking.

"Stay here. I'll come back up for you and take you to the cottage after."

James didn't give her any time for a response. Before she knew it, James had made his way back downstairs. Lily followed him to the master staircase, but the gleam in James' eyes with his last command left no room for doubt about his intentions, and she sure as hell didn't want to stand in his way. Honestly, she was still a little scared of James when he got like this — turned on, but scared nonetheless.

That didn't stop Lily from trying to listen in as she heard snippets of James and Euphemia's conversation below. It appeared that his mother had made her way to a sitting room by the time James found her. It didn't surprise Lily that she couldn't hear any of his words, considering how James spoke quietest when he was at his most deadly, but she could most certainly hear Euphemia. "Son, I'm sure you—" turned into, "What do you mean? You can't possibly believe the words of a—" to, "I'm your mother! Don't you dare point that wand at me!"

And then Lily didn't hear any more words at all.

Yay!

Next Chapter: The Ascension