Hullo lovelies!

It's funny how sometimes when I am writing, seasons and events align in the story and in real life. Happy Fall I guess!

Lily Evans is precious and needs to be protected at all costs. This was my mood when writing this.

I listened to the High As Hope album by Florence + The Machine a lot whilst I wrote this, amongst other things.

PLEASE, please leave a review and let me know what you think

My tumblr: indiebluecrown. tumblr. com

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, only the story line and any OC's belong to me.

Lily Evans could not sleep. James, Sirius, Hermione and Draco had left several hours ago. It was their first official Order mission. It was meant to be low risk, but her stomach was twisted in knots regardless. Lily had wanted to go as well, but the quartet had obstinately refused.

Lily had never been good at sitting idly by and not doing anything. Her body itched to be productive and to do something. These lackadaisical days at Potter Manor were precious, but also immensely boring.

James and Sirius were always gone, and even though Lily spent most of her time with Hermione, the other witch's mind drifted off for prolonged periods; she got lost in her own mind. Concern had Hermione trapped in its fierce grip.

Hermione and Lily had been brewing and experimenting in a makeshift set up inside one of the spare bedrooms in their wing of the house. Hermione and Draco's potions room was off-limits according to James. Lily wanted nothing more than to go and peek inside—but the door was always shut and it was rude to pry.

Remus slept all day; she rarely saw him anymore. When she did see him, he didn't talk much. He occasionally smiled, and he seemed happy listening to them converse, but his heart wasn't in it.

Draco was a peculiar case. He was always around, but she could also never find him when she actively sought him out. Not to mention they'd had that strange scare the other day. James had told her not to worry, but when they'd stumbled across Hermione and Draco, the wizard appeared to be on the brink of death.

Lily thought she'd gotten closer to Draco.

She thought she understood him better after all the years they'd spent together, but, he remained a perpetual mystery. As if there was a large secret he was keeping. In spite of that, Lily also knew that Draco was one of the most caring, kind individuals she'd met and he would do anything for those he considered his.

There was one constant with Draco she discovered: every morning he would wake up before the rest of them and swim laps in the pool. He glided through the water gracefully, barely splashing or causing any commotion. She'd caught him in the act on an unbearably hot morning; she'd grabbed a glass of water and wandered outside the Manor.

Lily had stood in the grass several feet away from the pool deck, sipping her water and watching the boy swim freestyle. Draco noticed her after a while, and with a bright smile he'd beckoned her over. She'd sat on the pool's edge, gathering her nightgown above her knees so she could stick her feet in the refreshingly cool water. Draco'd floated in the water right in front of her, and they'd had a pleasant conversation.

Hermione also spoiled Draco a bit by buying him several pints of lemon crackle ice-cream from Florean's. She snuck into Diagon Alley—during the morning bustle—once a month to stock up on supplies.

Lily appreciated the close relationship the Potter siblings had. It warmed the cockles of her heart. Especially when they did amusing things: sometimes James jumped on Draco's back without warning, insisting his brother gave him a piggyback ride. Draco was nonplussed by it, and indulged his brother's whims.

Hermione also did most of their grocery shopping at a small, local Muggle grocer a couple kilometres away.

Hermione often rode there on her pastel blue, LaFrance Super-Streamline bicycle (the 1937 model). It had bright white handlebars, and Hermione had installed a prussian blue basket on the front.

Lily's jaw had dropped when she first saw it. It was a sunny afternoon a couple weeks ago. A gentle breeze continuously rolled around the grounds, and Hermione had gone round back by where the Potters (and now Sirius) kept all their brooms and Quidditch balls, and she'd returned with the bicycle.

"It's purely indulgent. I don't really need it, but I really wanted it." Hermione had said, teeth flashing and a wistful, nostalgic look on her face.

If Hermione had a long shopping list she would drag Draco along with her, even as he complained bitterly. Then, they would apparate. (Once or twice Lily had volunteered to go with her, in desperate need to stretch her legs and get out of the house.)

Hermione was surprisingly adept at using Muggle currency. She always had been, for as long as Lily had known her. James still needed Lily's help when the pair had gone on their handful of dates in Muggle society.

Draco was most certainly a mystery, but that didn't stop her from considering him to be one of her best mates. It was also amusing to her that she'd had a crush on him when they were younger.

I had a crush on one brother, and now I am dating the other, Lily thought, a soft, bemused sound escaping her lips.

Lily loved it here, but she also needed to be useful, she needed challenges and goals. To learn constantly. It was how she was hardwired. Which is why she was pondering becoming an animagus.

The first month is just keeping a leaf under my tongue, Lily thought sourly. Perhaps I should accept that Potions apprenticeship.

Lily sighed heavily, and she shifted in the armchair she was curled up in. The crimson haired witch was alone in the Sun Room. The vast windows behind her showcased the blackness of the night. There was a calming presence present in the space, and whenever Lily was anxious or worried, she found herself wandering into the room.

This used to be Dorea's favourite room, Lily recalled absently. The Potter Matriarch had mentioned it once or twice in the past when Lily'd come to visit.

Lily's gaze lowered to her lap where a stack of pictures laid. Mipsy had sensed the witch's uneasiness earlier, and had promptly fished out photographs of James as a boy. Most moved, a few were stationary. It was a pleasant distraction.

Lily was going to ask why Mipsy hadn't given her any of Draco or Hermione as children, but the House Elf had vanished before she could. Afterwards, she'd immersed herself in the captured memories lent to her.

He was such a cute little boy, Lily thought fondly as she gazed tenderly at a seven year old James whizzing about inside the frame on a training broom. (James told her one night during a late study session in December that he'd started to learn how to fly when he was three.)

Once she was finished with a picture, she would place it to her left in a neat pile in the space beside her knees. The emerald armchair was quite large, and it dwarfed her; it was also soft and she'd sunk into its loving embrace.

Lily was so preoccupied with worry, and James's pictures that she didn't notice the crack that ripped through the air outside. She didn't notice the sudden absence of Remus's magical signature.

Several hours later, she was drowsy and nodding off. The pictures rested beside her. Her hands were folded in her lap, and her vision blurred. It was through sheer willpower that she was still somewhat holding onto consciousness. She needed to stay awake until they returned home.

A loud crackling sound burst against her eardrums, and it jolted her awake. Lily sat up sharply, rubbing groggily at her sleep-crusted eyes. Her legs had fallen asleep, and pins and needles shot viciously through her limbs as she untucked them from underneath her.

It took several moments before she could feel her feet, much less move. Eventually she managed to stand: her knees knocked together and her legs trembled with the effort.

Lily hastily left the Sun Room, and made her way through the Manor until she reached the front door. Which had been left open, and there was no one in sight.

A crashing sound came from the direction of their bedrooms. Lily's eyes widened and she swiftly ascended the Grand staircase. She was light on her feet as she jogged down the corridor, peering in each room as she passed by. She caught sight of them in Remus's room; she overshot it by a few feet and she had to backtrack. She stopped in the doorway, hand on the doorframe, panting lightly.

Hermione, Draco, Sirius and James were all gathered on Remus's bed; morose. The air was heavy and thick in the room as Lily stepped inside. They turned their attention to her, and she was perplexed as to why they looked tragically sad. They were all in one piece, no apparent injuries were on display.

Moments later her brain kicked into full gear, and put the pieces together. Remus was absent. It clicked into place. Remus was gone, and there was no telling when he would be back. Draco sluggishly held out a bit of parchment towards her.

Lily approached cautiously. They were on edge, and wrought with treacherous tension— like stiff, metal rods were rammed through them; a susurrus of their wailing souls reached her ears.

Lily gingerly accepted the letter, her eyes skirted across the words at a frightening speed. Each word was a stake of fear in her heart.

"Werewolf…packs…"

"We're his pack, and he's our Alpha…but he didn't say a damn thing," James said with acidic emotion.

"Remus being his own Alpha means it will be harder for him to fit in…" Hermione said, all of the ire Lily had previously witnessed holding her together slipped away. "They'll probably reject him immediately…or in a rare spark of chance he'll become like their Alpha." Hermione seemed convinced that the latter was impossible.

"He'll be okay," Lily said. The words unwittingly came out, without an ounce of permission. It was her heart's hope. She hoped he would stay safe and healthy.

She should have known something was wrong. He'd been acting so strangely.

"He will be," Draco said through his teeth. There was no doubt in his words. There was crystal clarity, and Lily blinked blankly at it. It was as if Draco was clairvoyant, and he knew that Remus would return safely to them. "He will be, and I am going to hex him for being such a bloody idiot."

The Marauders didn't say much after that, separating into groups. Sirius, Hermione and Draco headed towards Draco's room, bidding them good night and announcing they were going to all sleep in the same room tonight. Lily wasn't surprised. The Marauders hopped from one bed to the other all the time. James had confirmed as much once.

Lily and James retired to their room, and even though James insisted he was fine, Lily made sure to thoroughly inspect him for injuries. He didn't have any new ones. An ugly, purple and black bruise on his abdomen from Auror training was yellowing around the edges. She frowned at that, but the mediwitch Moody kept on hand had cleared James, so Lily would have to accept his judgment for now.

The pair readied for bed. Lily recalled she'd left the lights lit in the Sun Room, and she hoped that Mipsy would find it empty and put them all out.

Lily knelt on their bed, hair out, flowing down her back, her sheer, white nightgown bunched up around her thighs. Her left, thin strap had fallen off of her shoulder, exposing her freckled skin; the freckles on her shoulder were pale and indistinguishable.

James crawled towards her, clad only in indigo boxers and a 'The Doors' band tee. With a mischievous smirk, he launched himself at her, gathering her in his arms before toppling them sideways on the bed. His leg wrapped around hers. She was surrounded by him, and she wiggled just enough so that she could embrace him back.

Their future was so uncertain. Her professional career was up in the air. A war was being waged, and friends were leaving or disappearing without any notice.

Lily was afraid of James's chosen path. Being an Auror was a perilous job in regular times, much less in the thick of war. But, he was a fearless lion determined to protect his pride. She loved that about him. She loved him.

"I love you," Lily whispered in the dark. James tightened his grip.

"I'm not going anywhere, Evans. I promise."

James could not make such a promise considering the state of their world, but he did. She could tell by the steel in his voice that he meant every word.

A single tear rolled from the corner of her eye. She'd lost so much in such a short space of time. Lily wasn't naïve. The war would rip a great deal from her. She knew that, but, that knowledge didn't assuage her fears.

I hate not being able to do anything, Lily thought. Dumbledore benching her, trying to shove her into some Ministry job didn't sit well with her. She was going to start joining them on Order missions as well, with or without permission. She would not be bystander any longer.

I'll have to ask Hermione and Draco to start duelling with me on a day. The twins were expert duellists in school, and the only people they'd really struggled against were each other and Remus.

Lily slept much sounder that night. She slept like a baby swaddled in soft silk. She was held in the arms of the man that she loved, and she'd resolved to do something about their current affairs. She dreamt of a cottage in the countryside, she dreamt of James, and she dreamt of children running around said cottage, with his messy raven hair; soft sunlight glinted across their heads. Lily dreamed of a bright future where they all lived happily ever after.

The weeks passed.

Lily successfully completed the first stage in becoming an animagus. James was overjoyed, and threw her over his shoulder and did a victory lap around the kitchen when he found out. Lily had spat the Mandrake leaf into the bin with disdain. She hadn't been a fan of the bitter, burnt taste towards the end. It hadn't been easy keeping it in place for a ruddy month, but she'd done it.

James and Sirius's training had only intensified, and seeing either of them was a rare and delightful treat these days. Draco had gone to visit them at the Ministry one day with packed lunches provided by Hermione and Mipsy. Moody had given him a strange look, and Draco shot a glare his way in return. Moody had smirked.

Summer was slipping through their fingers, the limited warm days were wasting away. Remus's departure had cast a heavy iron curtain over the Manor. It had affected Hermione the most. She blamed herself for not figuring out that something was wrong.

They hadn't heard from Remus.

Lily gave Draco and Hermione their space, and occupied herself by meditating and working on the next stage of her animagus training. Visualisation. The Sun Room was oft where one could find her, if not, she was in the kitchen trying to bake something outlandish yet tasty with Mipsy's supervision. Elaborate cakes and intricate decorating had become a hobby of hers.

"We never celebrated your birthday this year," Hermione purred, laying her head back against Draco's shoulder. Daydreaming about the delectable chocolate mousse Lily had made last night.

August was almost over. Fog surrounded the Manor early in the mornings, only to dissipate into sweltering days that chilled and gave way to crisp evenings and nights.

The sun was almost gone from the sky. It had been a chilly day, with fog covering the Manor's grounds. The clouds were an angry grey, and the heavens threatened to pour at any given moment.

Steam and bubbles floated around Hermione Potter's bathroom. The door was locked and silencing charms were firmly in place. Hermione and Draco were inside of Hermione's ceramic, claw foot tub.

Draco was sitting behind Hermione in the tub, his arms strewn over the sides. Hermione was situated between his legs, her back pressed against his front with her knees bent; her kneecaps poked up above the water's surface but were hidden by bubbles.

Hermione was toying with the suds on the water's surface in front of her. She couldn't remember the last time they'd taken a bath together, much less a bubble bath. It had been Draco's suggestion.

The hot water stung her skin in a soothing way, and her flesh had pinked considerably since she'd gotten in. Her voluminous curls were twisted expertly into a messy bun on top of her head. Draco's cheek was pressed against the side of her face. He had curved around her almost protectively.

"We were concerned with other things," Draco said after a while. He was humming under his breath. She recognised it as No Woman, No Cry. Hermione quirked a brow, gathering bubbles in her hands. She didn't know Draco knew any Bob Marley songs.

Hermione sang under her breath, her words raspy and soft around the edges. "Good friends we have. Oh, Good friends we have lost along the way. Yeah! In this great future you can't forget your past. So dry your tears, I say."

Draco joined in, his deep, velvety voice seemed louder as he was singing against her ear. "No, woman, no cry. No, Woman, no cry. Eh, yeah! A little darlin, don't shed no tears."

A light, breathy laugh came from Hermione. All the worry and fear she had been plagued with since Remus left unfurled, its vice grip on her heart and mind released. She was at ease for the first time in weeks.

Draco had a way of calming her soul unlike any other. Sadly, she realised how little time they had been spending alone since they'd graduated from Hogwarts. No, it's been a lot longer than that, Hermione thought soberly.

Draco dropped a kiss to her temple, and cleared his throat. "You know he couldn't talk to us about it. We never would have let him leave. He knew that."

Hermione slumped down in the tub, rounding her shoulders as she wrapped her arms loosely around her shins. "That doesn't change the fact that I want to hit him next time I see him…or that I want to set Dumbledore on fire…the armchair wasn't satisfying enough."

"You can't do that—even though I would fucking love that. Also, does that mean your answer is no to the Ministry job offer?"

Dumbledore was dead set and adamant about finding someone to infiltrate the Ministry as an Order spy. Lily was uninterested. So he had shifted his sights to Hermione. With her knowledge of the future, and her skills, he thought she would be a perfect fit.

Minerva had come round for tea earlier in the week, and had relayed Dumbledore's idea to Hermione. Their former Professor had trod carefully as she entered the Manor, peering around corners suspiciously. It had taken a moment for Hermione to realise she was on alert in case Sirius popped out of thin air. She assured the witch that Mad-Eye had Sirius quite preoccupied.

Hermione plastered on a sweet smile after Minnie finished speaking, and kindly said, "tell the Old Coot he can piss off." Hermione had sent a vile Howler full of colourful expletives to Dumbledore in the wee hours of the morning—for extra spite—letting him know precisely how she felt about his last bout of manipulation.

Hermione hadn't received a response, but Minerva informed her that Dumbeldore had indeed gotten her letter. He briefly mentioned it to her before she left the Castle.

Minerva had chosen to stay at Hogwarts for the summer as opposed to leaving for her home elsewhere in Scotland. She hadn't elaborated on her reasons for doing so.

"Of course I'm not going to do that stupid Ministry job." It was an aide's position to one of the people that worked directly under the Minister of Magic. Whilst the thought of ferrying paperwork about the Ministry and being worked to the bone (she'd heard her fair share of stories about what it was like to work in the Minister's department) delighted her, she thought watching paint dry would be more fulfilling.

Hermione's chin had collected some soap, and she had a short beard as a result. I wonder if I could take Dumbles off guard and singe the ends of his beard. The old codger needs a trim anyway, Hermione mused.

Draco blew out a sigh; bringing her back to reality. "Does this mean we're spoiled socialites living off our parent's money?"

"Weren't you always a spoiled brat living off of his parent's money?"

Draco scowled, and he lightly butted his head against hers. Hermione's resulting laugh bounced off of the walls gleefully. Condensation was gathering on the window a foot above her tub (it had been permanently charmed so you could see out, but no one could see in).

"We do have to get things ready for the future anyway. Perhaps we'll be too busy for Ministry jobs or playing Order spies," Draco commented, he rested his chin on top of her head. Her hair was dangerously close to his nose.

"That's true. We do have a lot to do," Hermione murmured pensively. They'd discussed their plans, but putting everything into place was going to be arduous and time consuming.

"It may not work."

"It will," Hermione said confidently. She stretched her limbs, and the water shook, rocking back and forth in the tub from the sudden movement. Some water jumped over the lip of the tub and splashed onto the white porcelain tiles; darker grey streaks were embedded throughout the tiles. She laid back against Draco, hands reaching up over her head to link behind his neck, her fingers loosely knitted together. Draco's own arms lowered into the tub and he circled her torso.

The water had cooled. It was lukewarm. Despite that, Hermione had no desire to move. Their breathing synchronised and Hermione closed her eyes. She belonged here, with him.

The Marauders were fractured, they were scattered throughout Britain, and through everything it slipped all of their minds that they hadn't heard from Peter since the first Order meeting. Draco had written to let him know that Remus was gone, but Storm had returned, Draco's letter still in his claws.

Hermione and Draco had certain tasks they had to complete before it was too late. They had to prepare for the future, a future where they would be forgotten. Their shared past would be masked and hidden from the minds of their loved ones.

The summer days wilted, fleeing hurriedly. Fall dutifully marched forward with purpose. Change was afoot.