Everything hurt. As James slowly regained consciousness, that was his one clear thought amidst the confusion. He couldn't remember where he was, or why his back felt like it was on fire, or why is his face ached dully. Opening his eyes didn't help, because everything was blurred, and he couldn't remember where his glasses were.

He was lying on his stomach, and he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. This realization only made him more nervous.

"…you have to tell me why you were dressed like that."

This woman's voice was not one he recognized. His breaths started to come more quickly.

"That was how we thought wizards and witches in Scotland dressed," a woman said innocently.

Lily's voice. James relaxed slightly. If Lily was here, sounding so collected, then surely everything was okay.

"So none of you went to Hogwarts?" the other witch asked.

Lily hesitated, and the witch was quick to fill the silence.

"No, of course not. I would remember you. We can't be that far apart in age?"

"We're all eighteen."

"I'm nineteen," the witch volunteered cheerfully. "If you're a muggleborn, where did you get your education? No one gets that good at potions on their own."

"James and Sirius were homeschooled. I grew up near… James, and his parents taught me as well."

"So James is pureblood?"

"Yes," Lily said, a bit stiffly. "So is Sirius."

"They must be good friends, to flee with you to Scotland."

The witch lingered a bit on the word "friends," but Lily ignored the pointed question.

"Yes," she said.

"They're handsome young men," the witch continued. "I can tell, even if one of their faces is smashed in."

"I suppose."

"I'm just wondering if one of them's taken, is all."

"Um… no." Lily hesitated, then said, "You should go for Sirius. I hear he's a better snog."

That remark stung. It was stupid, James told himself, to get hurt feelings over a careless comment. But—the thought nagged at him—had Lily rejected him over the years partly because she thought he was a bad kisser?

"How did you get this position at nineteen?" Lily said, in an obvious attempt at a subject change.

"My father's a friend of the Lord of this castle, Duncan Ferguson. I was interested in healing, and his healer had just died when I graduated."

"Oh," Lily said.

"You have a knack for potions, you know," the witch said. "You're much better than I am. I don't suppose you'd consider being my work partner? I'm sure the castle could use a second healer."

"Oh…" Lily sounded flustered now. "That's very kind… but…"

"Come on," she said. "Duncan won't harbour fugitives forever unless they make themselves useful. What else would you want to do?"

Lily was quiet for a moment, and James waited for her to tell this witch that they were leaving soon, anyway.

"I did always want to be a healer," Lily said softly. "If things had been different, I think I…"

"Then it's settled."

James shifted, trying to get more comfortable. To his embarrassment, a small groan slipped out as pain shot across his back.

"James?"

Suddenly, Lily was kneeling in front of him.

"You're awake," she said, sounding relieved.

He squinted at her blurry face, hoping she would come more into focus.

"Oh… I have your glasses," she said.

She made to pass them to him, and with difficulty, he moved his arm to take them. The movement made the skin of his back pull, and he breathed in sharply.

"I'll do it," Lily said quickly.

Carefully, she put his glasses on for him, and she came into focus, and all he could think was that she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. She was wearing a dress that laced at the front, in a shade of green that perfectly matched her eyes. It looked good on her, a thought that may have had a little to do with the fact that he had never seen her show so much cleavage before, although part was hidden by the sling that held her left arm. His eyes made their way across her face, taking in the details, from that one freckle on her nose to her full lips.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.
There was that crease between her eyebrows again, and it was so cute that he felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile.

"Fine."

Someone cleared her throat, and James's eyes finally found the other witch.

"James, this is Cait," Lily said. "She's the healer here."

The witch—Cait—looked down at them with raised eyebrows. Cait had pointed features, and she was about the same height as Lily, which was to say short. Her nose was prominent, and her blonde hair stuck out in unruly curls. James supposed she was pretty enough, in an effortless sort of way, but he couldn't help but compare her to Lily; Lily had become the measure he used for everyone. It wasn't that Lily was perfect, but rather that she was made perfect through her imperfections. Lily wasn't smiling now, but when she did, she revealed a gap between her front teeth, which he had once heard her tell her friend she'd like to fix, but that James had always thought made her smile even more beautiful. While Cait was pretty, did she have dimples when she smiled? Did Cait tuck her hair behind her ear when she was feeling shy? James could name at least a hundred more Lily-isms, and until someone could replicate them exactly, he knew he would only ever have eyes for her.

"She helped you after…" Lily trailed off.

James remembered his manners. "Thank you."

"I'll fetch Sirius," Cait said. "I'm sure he'll want to see you."

She left, and neither Lily nor James spoke until the door had closed and her footsteps had retreated.

Lily's hand flew to her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. Once again, James found himself smiling.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "Um… what's happened? Where are we?"

"We're in the Ferguson castle. From what I understand, the lord of the castle, Duncan, has been taking in muggleborn witches and wizards fleeing the new laws in England. We're here as his guests for now, until he finds somewhere for us to go. I think… the night we went through the stones, they were expecting some muggleborn witches and wizards to take a portkey there, and…"

"Someone tipped off Severus Prince," James finished. "That's bad. That means there's a traitor here."

"I know," Lily said. "At least the other muggleborns arrived after us, and so they got away, which is good, I guess…"

"And at least we'll be gone long before this traitor becomes a problem," James added.

Lily suddenly became very quiet, and James had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Right?"

The door burst open, and Sirius ran to them.

"James! You're alive!"

He knelt beside Lily, and James couldn't help noticing the fact that he didn't acknowledge her presence at all. Sirius was also dressed strangely, in something that could have been out of an old portrait on the walls of Hogwarts.

"Great. Now we can go home," Sirius said.

Lily spoke up, her voice quiet but firm. "No."

Sirius shot her a disdainful look. "No? We need to get James to a proper healer, someone who can do more than sew him up with that muggle nonsense."

"Yes," Lily agreed. "You two should go."

James didn't like where this was going. "You want to stay?" he asked incredulously. "Lily, that's crazy. If there was ever a worse time to be a muggleborn than 1978, it's 1743. It's a bad time to be a witch, too. They still burn witches in muggle villages. And Severus Prince is hunting us. Why would you ever want to stay here?"

"It doesn't matter if I want to stay or not; I can't go back," Lily said. "I need to save my parents."

James shot Sirius a look of confusion, wondering if he was following this strange leap in logic any better than he was. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"You're right. 1978 is a shit time to be muggleborn. But you know why? Because this time in history set a precedent," she said fiercely. "Do you remember in History of Magic how-"

"No," Sirius said.

"Shh!" After shooting Sirius a dirty look, James turned his attention back to Lily. "Continue."

"They passed discriminatory laws that lasted for fifty years," Lily said. "People in our time still cite them as a reason to oppress muggleborns. But there was a battle in 1743… or 1744. The Scots disagreed with the laws, so they fought the English over them. And they lost. But imagine if they had won. Then there wouldn't be the precedent for hatred towards muggleborns. Our time could be completely different. My parents could survive!"

"Your parents could not exist in the first place," Sirius snapped. "If you tamper with history, you tamper with your own life, Evans. That's risky magic."

"Bit rich coming from you, Black. Weren't you the one who said we should kill-"

"That bastard deserved it!" Sirius shouted.

"So you're saying my parents 'deserve' to die?" she asked, her voice frosty.

"We're leaving," Sirius said, standing once again. "Have fun trying to survive in 1743 alone, Evans."

Sirius looked at James expectantly.

"I'm staying too," James said.

Sirius groaned. "You're kidding."

"Lily's right. We have an opportunity to make the future better. We should take it. This time can't be any more dangerous than our own time-"

Sirius's face had turned red. "Have you looked in the bloody mirror?"

James scowled. "What do we have for us in the present, Sirius? There's a war building there, too."

Sirius swore.

"Lily, if you're staying, I'll stay too. I'll help you however I can," James said.

Lily's eyed welled with tears. "Thanks, James."

"Well…" Sirius looked at James. He swore again. "I guess I'm staying too."