Four Months Later...


Alice inhaled deeply, the smell of bitter, caffeine rich, coffee filling her nose. A serene smile grew upon her face, her eyes remaining delicately shut as she rested her head on her pillow.

"Duty calls," Frank announced, sounding like his face was just inches from hers. "We've got work in an hour."

"No," Alice protested. She flopped onto her stomach, burying her face into her pillow. It was all fun and games becoming an Auror until she realised she needed to be up at six a.m. each morning.

"I'll start the shower for you while you drink this," Frank encouraged her. "I've got a steaming hot omelette with your name on it."

Alice rolled over, peeking one eye open to stare at her husband. He grinned, already showered and dressed, his dark hair slicked back. Alice was certain she didn't look half as decent.

"I'll take the coffee and the shower," she negotiated, reaching out a hand for the mug as she slowly forced herself into a seated position.

"I'll take a kiss," Frank informed her, leaning towards his tired, and rather grumpy, wife. Alice pressed her lips to his quickly, giving his cheek a delicate pinch.

"You're handsome, you know that?"

"You're not too shabby yourself," Frank replied, making his way down the hall towards the bathroom.

They'd developed a comfortable routine between the two of them in the four months they'd been living together. It had been strange at first. Always bumping heads, living together full time, but somewhere between Alice selling her family home, and the two of them getting full-time positions in the Auror office, things had started to get into their rightful place.

Alice showered and dressed, joining Frank in the kitchen for her spare fifteen minutes, to chug another mug of coffee and read the portion of the Prophet her husband was finished with. Sometimes, as the two sat there silently, Frank would reach out his hand for hers, toying with her fingers affectionately as the pair stayed in their own little worlds.

"Come on," Frank urged his wife at seven, as she tried to squeeze out the last few words of the article she'd been reading. "We're going to be late, again—"

"That was not my fault!" Alice snapped defensively, getting out of her chair and slipping on her shoes. "There was an old man who needed help getting down the stairs into the tube."

"That was perfectly fine, it was you taking fifteen minutes to talk to him about his granddaughter that really put the nail in the coffin."

Alice rolled her eyes at her husband as he locked the door, stringing her bag over her shoulder. Frank was, and always had been, much more punctual than her. In some ways it was good they worked in the same office – Alice doubted she'd ever get in before noon if he weren't around.

The couple went to the alley behind their house to apparate into the city. There, they travelled the five-minute walk to the nearest tube station and then took the Floo network in the public washrooms. It was a less than enjoyable journey but after a few months of it, Alice had grown used to the whole procedure.

"You didn't forget about the doctor's appointment after work did you?" Frank quizzed his wife once they'd reconnected in the busy halls of the Ministry.

"No, I did not forget," Alice, sighed. "I'd rather not go, though—"

"Non-negotiable." Frank led the way towards the elevator, shrugging unsympathetically at his wife. "I'll be there."

"So will she," Alive grumbled, cramming into the back of the elevator with Frank.

"She's not that bad," Frank assured his wife. "You have to admit, she's gotten a lot better recently."

Alice scowled, crossing her arms; she wished she could be as optimistic as her husband.


It was a rainy morning in Cokeworth, dark and dreary. Lily woke with an aching neck and a pounding head. As she had many times before, the young witch had fallen asleep at her mother's bedside, curled up, uncomfortably, in the armchair that they'd moved into her room. Despite it being mid-morning, the master bedroom was dark, the grey clouds outside offering little light to shine in through the window which faced the suburban street they lived on.

Lily rubbed at her green eyes, stretching out her legs in front of her. Her mother was asleep, laid out across her back peacefully, her arms at her sides. Lily listened to the calm inhale and exhale of breath she took every few seconds, making sure it remained stable.

The bedroom door creaked open slowly, a line of light spilling in from the hallway.

"You been here all night?" Carol asked with mild concern. She'd been their nurse for the past few months. With Petunia moved out and living with Vernon, visiting them rarely, James had helped Lily pick someone out to assist with care. Carol had been the only person that had felt like more than a caregiver to Lily.

The middle-aged woman was warm and friendly. She knew when to make a joke to lighten the mood and when to offer Lily a shoulder to cry on. She was a large woman with a head of short curly brown hair and a warm smile. She'd spent the first ten years of her life in Ethiopia but her parents had sent her and her brother to London to live with their aunt so they could receive the best education possible.

When Lily couldn't sleep, during the nights her mother was in pain, she'd get Carol to tell her about Ethiopia. The house with the red door that she'd grown up in. The garden she'd helped her grandmother tend to on Sunday afternoons. The beautiful mountains which had surrounded the town she'd grown up in.

"I didn't mean to," Lily explained. She pulled back the blanket that had been wrapped around her, folding it over the back of the chair.

"Here," Carol passed her a mug of coffee, moving over to check her mother's pulse, feeling her forehead.

"How is she?" Lily asked. She sat on the edge of her seat, watching her mother with anxious eyes.

"The same," Carol assured her, Lily sighing a breath of relief. "I'm jus' tryin' to keep her as comfortable as possible for now."

Lily hated that word, comfortable. At a time it had meant something positive to her, but now, it just reminded her that her mother's condition would never improve. Everything was about making her comfortable. That was all they could do, the time had passed for saving.

"Go get some breakfast," Carol instructed her. "It's not good for you to spend all your time in here."

"I don't want to leave her—"

"She's fine," Carol promised. "Listen, I don't want you back in here for the rest of the afternoon, you hear me?"

Lily frowned. She hated leaving her mother's side, especially in the past month. She could barely leave the house without feeling an overwhelming sense of anxiety. What if something happened while she was gone? What if her condition deteriorated?

"I won't let anything happen to her, okay?" Lily still didn't budge. "Go spend the afternoon with that handsome boy of yours," Carol winked at her. She and James got along like old pals, which was a good thing, considering how much time her Fiancé spent at their house.

"Fine," Lily obliged, standing up with a heavy sigh. "Just keep an eye on her, okay?"

"I always do."

The house, once Lily's safe haven, no longer held the same charm. Once filled with love and joy, it had grown to feel more like a prison. As her mother's condition grew worse by the day, Lily found it more challenging to find the happiness she'd once felt in her childhood home. Now, not only would she have lost her father within its four walls, her mother would spend her final moments in it too.

Lily took the short trip downstairs, still in her clothes from the day before, tying her hair up in a high ponytail as she walked. She'd lost at least ten pounds since she'd been home. It was difficult to find an appetite when you were watching your last living parent slowly fade fro existence.

Her cheekbones had grown more prominent and her eyes sunken into her head. She knew she looked worse for wear when James would stare at her like she was a kicked puppy. Stroking her hair softly, reminding her that she needed to take care of herself.

Lily started up the kettle, staring around her kitchen aimlessly for something to shove down her throat in concerns to food. She missed feeling hungry, craving things. Feeling excited. It was hard to have any of that when she was watching her mother slowly wither away.

It felt like all she did now was worry. About her mother. About her friends. It felt like every day one of them was going out to battle, never to return home again, and some of them hadn't. Phillip Coin had been killed only a week before, a twenty-three-year-old Auror.

Lily flicked the stove gas on, heating up the frying pan for eggs. She waited as it warmed, tucking her hands into her jean pockets. Her left hand curled around a piece of crumpled paper, pulling it out for her to look at. The words of Marlene McKinnon were creased and crumpled from hours tucked into Lily's pocket.

She tossed the letter into the garbage, letting the lid fall with a heavy thud. If she couldn't be mad at Marlene, she could at least take her anger out on the words of joy and exhilaration she'd mailed across the pond.


Remus woke up in the middle of nowhere, naked and freezing. It was an overcast morning in the middle of October, the air hardly kind to his bare skin. He sat up, wrapping his arms around himself as he began to shiver. All he could see for miles was bare land, a field of some sort, rolling hills and lined with trees.

His memory was foggy and his head pounded like he'd been smacked over it with a hammer. He knew what it meant, there'd been a full moon. It was always a full moon when he ended up like this.

"REMUS!" He heard a voice calling out in the distance. "REM—"

"HERE!" He cried back, struggling to keep his voice steady. "I'M OVER HERE!"

Remus flailed his arms in the air like a madman. He squinted so he could see her running towards him, over the hill, her small form bobbing in the distance. She was panting heavily when she reached him, her cheeks flushed from the run.

"I'm so sorry," Dorcas apologised profusely, wrapping a thick woolly blanket around Remus' shoulders. "I came out right at sunrise and looked everywhere, you weren't in the spot we'd set up."

Remus could remember now. The cabin the two of them had rented in the middle of nowhere, there was nothing to fill the clear terrain, free of any people. They'd biked out a fair distance, finding a secluded spot for Remus to transform in. He'd gotten Dorcas to chain him to a tree but, clearly, the effort had done little to stop him from running free.

"Are you hurt?" She asked with concern. Dorcas ran a hand over Remus' ice-cold cheek as he continued to shiver.

"F-fine," he stammered, grasping on to the clothes she'd brought out for him. Changed, and slightly warmer, the two embarked on the walk back towards their cabin, Remus desperate for something warm to eat.

It was a nice spot they'd found. Small, a wood cabin right by the water. It was all one room. There was a loft above the kitchen with a double bed for the two of them to sleep and a nice screened in porch with a view of the water.

"Sit down," Dorcas urged him, motioning towards the couch. "I'll make coffee."

"And pancakes?" Remus asked hopefully. Dorcas rolled her eyes, muddling around in the cupboard.

"Do I look like a domesticated woman?"

"Not in the slightest, but I'd like to point out that my morning has been way rougher than yours."

She laughed, pulling out a frying pan. "You're helping mix up the batter, let's go, lazy bones." Remus obliged, tossing off his blanket to help up at the counter.

The cabin had been her idea. For the past three months, Remus had been forced to swallow his pride and spend a night in the Ministry managed enclosures for werewolves. It meant a night forced into a cage, his neck shackled. He'd often wake up in the morning covered in bruises, some of which he was sure the guards had assisted in giving him.

He could live with that all if it weren't for the way they looked at him. As though he was nothing. Like gum on the bottom of their shoe. Once a month Remus could be certain he'd arrive at the sanctuary to be made to feel worthless and small.

"Were you okay in here alone?" Remus worried. He'd been horrified about somehow retracing his steps in his wolf form, finding Dorcas in the cabin and hurting her. Remus could never forgive himself after that. It'd confirm his worst fear, that he was nothing more than a monster.

"I was fine," she assured him. "I had a better night's sleep than you did, clearly."

"I doubt I had much sleep at all," Remus scoffed.

He'd laid the pancake batter out in little globs on the frying pan now, Dorcas taking over the job of flipping them.

"So, we have the whole day off then?" He asked, yawning widely as he grabbed himself a cup of steaming coffee.

"Yup," Dorcas replied from the stove. "I told Moody I needed the day off. No work, no Order business."

"Frank's taking Alice to the appointment today," Remus announced as the room grew quiet. All that could be heard between words was the sound of sizzling pancake batter. There could be no complaints there.

"Finally! She's been dragging her feet for weeks."

"Yeah, well, you know her. She's shit with this kind of stuff."

"What about Sirius?" Dorcas asked casually.

"What, about Sirius?" Remus asked, quirking an eyebrow. Dorcas flicked off the stove, flipping the pancakes onto a plate and placing them on the coffee table in front of Remus, his mouth practically watering at the glorious sight of them.

"He's been on a downward spiral since the news came about Marlene."

"Downward spiral is a little dramatic," Remus corrected her, taking his first bite.

"Okay, sorry, you're right. He's been a total, bloody, self-destructive, fool. It has been an endless line of girls for weeks, and he's totally reckless on missions."

"What do you want me to do?" Remus asked, his mouth full of food. Dorcas gave her boyfriend a pointed look, crossing her arms.

"Talk to him," she stated obviously. "He's hurting."

"I can't fix him," Remus sighed. "Not when he's like this. She was the only one who could get through to him in this state."

"Well, we're going to have to find another solution," Dorcas reminded him, placing a hand on his thigh. "Because I don't think she's coming home to help out anytime soon."


James had elected Peter to help him draw Sirius out of his flat. They'd allowed him a grace period of two weeks to be as reckless as he pleased, but now it was time to clean himself up. Peter tapped his foot against the carpeted floor nervously as they waited in the hall for Sirius to open the front door.

"What has got you so worked up Wormtail?" James teased his friend.

"He just…has not been the most reasonable person recently."

James scoffed. That was an understatement. Since Marlene's letter two weeks prior Sirius had been a complete mess. An endless stream of girls flowed in and out of his apartment and James didn't think he'd seen his friend sober once. Moody had promised that if Sirius kept the act up he'd be kicked out of the Order immediately.

"He'll be alright," James assured his anxious friend. "He's just…well, he's just being Sirius."

The door swung open, Sirius squinting at them from beyond his stringy black hair.

"It's early," he complained, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.

"It's twelve in the afternoon," James clarified for his friend. "You look like you've been hit by an unforgivable curse."

"I feel like it." Sirius cracked the door open, stumbling in towards his living room. He stretched out on the couch, closing his eyes once more.

"It smells disgusting in here," Peter announced, turning up his nose at the scent of the place.

"When's the last time you showered?"

"You're not my mum!"

"Would you rather I got her in here to clean you up?" James demanded. Sirius' head perked up, his face awash with horror.

"Merlin, no."

"You're acting like a complete idiot."

"Oh piss off—"

"I think what James is trying to say, is that everyone is worried about you."

"Well, I'm bloody fine, okay? You can all just go back to minding your own business."

For the past two weeks, James had done just that. Every time Sirius had grown grumpy and complained he was overbearing he'd stepped back, allowing his friend space. That just didn't seem possible anymore. He was certain any more space and Sirius would be falling down a hole he'd never get back up from.

"You're going to go take a shower while Peter and I clean this place up and then you're going to come eat a meal with us that isn't chased down with a bottle of bourbon. Do you understand me?"

"I'm not going to—"

"It wasn't a question," James assured his friend. "It was an order. Either you can do it voluntarily, or we can force you. One of these choices looks a lot better than the other."

"You can be such a dick? You know that?" Sirius snapped in James' face. He might have been offended if he didn't know what his friend had been going through for the past two weeks. He figured he wouldn't be handling the whole situation any better than Sirius was.

Just as Sirius had disappeared into his bedroom, slamming the door behind himself, a quiet knock came at the front door. James perked up, rushing over to swing it open.

"Oh, Mimsy," he sighed with relief. "You came."

"Of course Mr Potter I…" The house elf looked like she might pass out upon getting a closer look at the place. "Oh, my…"

'We've got our work cut out for us, huh?"

X

Mimsy had taken up the worst of the apartment – the kitchen – while James and Peter focused upon cleaning the Living Room up so it was in a livable state. Cigarette butts overflowing from the ashtray, candy wrappers left lying on the ground. Halfway through, James was dripping with sweat.

"How did we not notice?" Peter asked once the Living Room floor had become visible.

"What?"

"That he was in love with her," Peter stated obviously. James stopped what he was doing for a moment, standing up from the spot in the corner he'd been crouched in, wiping a coffee stain from the floor.

Peter had sat down on the couch, which was luckily now clear of all miscellaneous materials, sighing heavily. "I mean, one year is a long time…"

"I know," James, agreed, his voice flat.

"He's our best friend...doesn't it make you realise how little we pay attention to each other?"

"It was a mistake, okay?" James snapped. He didn't mean to get so harsh with Peter; it was more the fact that he felt so guilty himself. Sirius and Marlene were sneaking around in his house, right under his nose, and he'd been so absorbed in his own life he hadn't taken the time to really pay attention to the signs. Perhaps Marlene had been right; maybe he was a shitty friend.

"You should write her," Peter insisted, a spark lighting up his eyes.

"Me? Peter, she hasn't written me once. We weren't exactly on great terms when she left—"

"She'll listen to you."

"I don't think I have that kind of power anymore…" James wished he could just send Marlene a letter begging her to come home. Reminding her how much they needed her, now more than ever.

"James," Peter said his name with such desperation it was impossible not to take him seriously. "She doesn't hate you."

"I wouldn't be so sure…" James grumbled.

"She was angry, yes, but it's been seven months since Henry died. She took Joni on that trip; the two of them had an amazing time. She recovered. She did what she needed to do to be able to let go."

"So then why didn't she come back?" James demanded. It was hard not to feel a little angry. She'd told them three months that she'd be back in September and everything would be as it was. Then September the first came and there was no sign. Not until she sent Lily one lousy letter. James had read it over so many times he had the whole thing memorised.

Lily,

I know you're all worried; I've gotten your letters. I sent Joni home without me. She was tanned and grinning when she apparated back to the Fawley's home. I think they'll be quite pleased to have their little girl back, and to hear all about her travels. I know that isn't what you want to know, though…I'm sorry, I'm stalling.

Over the past three months, I've had nothing but time to think. Visiting cities I've never been to, eating food that practically melts in my mouth. Everything has changed. I don't feel empty anymore, like a shell of the girl I used to be. I feel alive. I feel like I've finally woken up.

Maybe it was always supposed to be this way. Aren't you the one who always says that everything has a meaning? Henry was supposed to lead me here, to show me what my life could look like. When I'm here, I don't see his face everywhere, I'm not reminded of everything I've lost.

I couldn't write to everyone, it would hurt too much. It hurts just writing to you. I'm not coming home. Amy is enjoying the extra support in England and she and Alex are planning to get their own place there and stay while they raise Franny. I'm living in their old apartment now. I've found a job, a great job, doing some investigative journalism for a paper over here; it has helped loads with my French! The war is everywhere Lily, and I'm doing as much good helping out over here, as I would be there.

I'll visit, I promise, I'll visit loads. I miss you. All of you. Send my love.

Love,

Marlene

"James?" Peter asked with concern. James looked up, his vision blurred for a moment as he snapped out of his daze.

"Sorry?"

"I said, she didn't mean to hurt anyone."

"Oh."

"Are you listening to me?"

James placed the nearly full garbage bag aside, rubbing at his sweat-soaked forehead. "Yes," he assured his friend.

"She didn't leave because of—"

"Nope," Sirius had emerged from his bedroom – clean and shaven – pulling a t-shirt over his bare chest. "I'm not hearing what I think I am?" Sirius tapped at his earlobe suggestively. "Are we discussing Marlene McKinnon?"

"No," Peter grumbled, his eyes facing the ground guiltily.

"Good, because that would just be pointless wouldn't it? Because what is the point about talking about someone who doesn't think about us anymore?"

"Change of subject," James suggested. "Let's go get some lunch."

"Yes," Peter agreed, hopping up from the couch. "Sounds good."

"Mimsy," James stepped into the kitchen, the house elf propped up on a stool, scrubbing at the stained counter top. "Don't worry about the rest, just head home. You've been a huge help."

"Oh no," Mimsy shook her head. "I'd have nightmares for weeks if I left this place in such a state."

James chuckled. He didn't know what he would have done as a kid without Mimsy around. "Okay, but under no circumstances are you expected to stay here, understand? Leave whenever you want."

"I know," Mimsy sighed, as though the reminder of her freedom had grown exhausting.


Mary was sat in the hospital staff room, munching on a salad that she'd been provided with by the kind House Elves in the Dining Hall. She'd been at work since five in the morning and it was now nearing four in the afternoon, nearly a twelve-hour shift. She got off at six, just in time to go back to Reg's for the dinner he'd promised to prepare for the two of them.

"This the first chance you've had to eat, McDonald?" A thick Scottish accent asked from behind her. Mary looked over to see Greer stepping into the staff room, pulling her long red hair from the bun it had been slicked back into.

"Sadly," Mary admitted, slouching in her chair the slightest. She'd meant to grab lunch at a proper time, but there'd seemed an endless flow of patients in the afternoon.

"Merlin's beard, my feet ache." Greer sighed with relief as she dropped down into the chair opposite Mary, kicking her feet up.

"That's why you don't wear wedges to a twelve-hour work shift."

"I had to look nice! Didn't you notice who my supervisor was for this afternoon?"

Mary smirked. Since they'd started at St. Mungo's a month ago, after a summer of training, Greer had kept her sights on their handsome superior - Calvin Alastor.

Greer ran a hand over her pale, freckled, face, exhaling heavily.

"I'd like a nap is what I would like," she announced, her eyes wandering towards the comfy looking couch in the back of the room.

"You've got an hour," Mary shrugged. "Sleep wouldn't hurt."

"Every time I try to take a nap at this bloody hospital someone comes in with a life-threatening injury, it's a curse."

"I'm sure you can get away with an hour without some sort of trauma." Greer was right, though, it seemed there was always some kind of disaster plaguing them.

Mary had decided she wanted to become a Healer when she'd begun watching her friend's take part in the Order a few weeks into summer. She'd seen the contribution they were making to the war and realised that if she couldn't fight she could still aid the effort. So she'd started training immediately. One month into it there'd been a knock at the door of her apartment – now that she'd collected enough money from her tips working at The Leaky Cauldron to afford a place of her own – and she'd found Emmeline waiting on the front steps, a guilty look on her face.

Nothing had felt better than finally patching things up with her best friend. Just a week later Emmeline had moved out of the empty flat her parents paid for, and taken up residence in the spare room at Mary's, the two becoming roommates.

The only complaint Mary could make about living full time with her best friend were the nights she'd come home from work – drained from hours on the job – to the sound of Emmeline and Gideon going at it. That, she could live without.

Greer had moved over to the couch, making herself look quite comfortable, curled up on it like a lazy indoor cat.

"Don't wake me until it is absolutely necessary," she warned Mary, with eyes closed.

"Duly noted boss." Mary continued munching peacefully on her salad, the room quiet except for the soft snores, which emanated from Greer's parted lips.

She had the latest Daily Prophet, opened on the table beside her, flipping through it slowly. Each page seemed to hold news of something worse than the last, more disappearances, and higher death rates. The war grew darker every day.

"MCDONALD, WILSON, FOURTH FLOOR NOW!" A voice hollered so loud it sent Mary jumping into the air. By the time she'd turned around to see whom it was they'd already disappeared down the hall.

Greer stirred from her peaceful sleep on the couch, squinting across the room at Mary. "I told you didn't I?" She remarked. "Something always goes wrong when I try to get some rest."


Alice sat on top of the exam table in her room at St. Mungo's, waiting for the appointment to begin.

"You're doing it again," Frank announced, Alice looking towards him in a frantic state.

"What?"

"Your foot."

Frank, apparently, had picked up on Alice's nervous habit of shaking her foot feverishly whenever she was nervous about something. She was always nervous about going to the doctor's office – it was why her husband and friend's had to practically force her to show up.

The door flew open and Alice straightened up, expecting the Healer to enter, but it was Augusta who stepped in instead, fur coat and everything.

"Has she been checked yet?" She asked.

"No, we're still waiting—"

"Thank merlin you've finally come, Alice dear, you can't push these things off," Augusta reminded her pointedly.

"I'm fine, really," Alice repeated for about the hundredth time. "I would have come back had something been wrong."

"Darling, you took a terrible hit last month, a brain injury is no joke."

"I know," Alice sighed, Frank smirking from over his mother's shoulder. He knew how much Alice was dreading this.

"You were in the hospital for weeks, you had us all worried, it's important to make sure everything is healing properly."

The door swung open one more time, this time, the Healer actually stepping inside. He was an older man, with a short head of salt and pepper hair and smile lines across his face.

"How're we all doing today?" He asked kindly.

"Great," Alice answered for the lot of them. She just wanted this appointment over with. Frank had promised her he'd take her out to dinner afterwards to reward her for finally making the appointment. Alice was dreaming of the tall glass of wine she'd get to enjoy.

"So, this is just to make sure that everything is healing up properly," the Healer explained, flipping through Alice's chart for a moment. "Any symptoms? Headaches? Blurred vision?"

"Nothing," Alice responded quickly.

"She does get tired out a lot more easily," Frank slipped in, Alice glaring in his direction.

"That's to be expected," the Healer shrugged, making no concern of the matter.

He did the usual procedures. Feeling to make sure there was no swelling. Using his wand to detect any signs of a blood clot or internal damage. Alice sat there patiently for fifteen minutes, while Augusta pelleted the poor man with all her questions and concerns.

"Everything looks exactly as it should," the Healer finally deduced.

"Perfect," Alice grinned proudly.

"Although, you need to make sure to come in for checkups more often Ms Longbottom," he reminded her.

"Thank you," Augusta agreed. "I've been telling her this for weeks!"

"Take care of yourself, Alice," the Healer smiled, tucking his wand away as Alice jumped, happily, from the exam table.

He tried to escape the room but, as usual, Augusta followed him out, pestering the poor man with question after question about what they should do to make sure Alice never did have symptoms pop up.

"Not so bad, huh?" Frank asked his wife once they were alone in the room again. She grimaced, showing her disdain for the whole thing.

"Minimally painful," she corrected him, the pair strolling from the hospital room hand in hand.

"So, where would you like to go for dinner?"

"I'm in the mood for curry," Alice announced, as they made their way down the hallway. "What about that nice muggle restaurant we found after work the other night?"

"Only if you agree to go to the Gelato place across the street afterwards," Frank countered.

"Why do you think I suggested the restaurant in the first place?" What was the point of going out for dinner if you didn't get dessert afterwards?

Frank chuckled, pressing his lips to his wife's. As the two parted they noticed a familiar face down the hall, sat in the small waiting room. Alice paused, stunned. Cecily Turner sat alone, her hand rested on top of her protruding stomach. She looked tired like she hadn't gotten any rest in a long time, as she flipped through a magazine.

"Let's take the elevator," Frank suggested, turning the corner as to avoid any interaction.

Neither of them had spoken to Cecily since the doctor's appointment they'd attended after their Honeymoon, meant to find out whether or not Frank could possibly be the father.

Alice had thrown up twice that morning she was so anxious, only to arrive at the doctor's office and discover that the baby was just a few weeks short of being Frank's, conceived the week after he and Alice had gotten married the first time.

It had been a weight off their shoulders. Alice had been grateful for it, really. While she was prepared to become a step-mother, she was glad she'd never have to fulfill the job. It meant that finally, the weight of those months apart, the darkest period in their relationship, didn't have to be a constant reminder they carried around with them.

As they'd walked out of Cecily's doctor's appointment, knowing they'd no longer have to worry about a new baby, Alice had felt like they were leaving behind a dark chapter – one she was fully prepared to leave behind.

"ALICE!" A frantic voice cried. The elevator doors had popped open on the fourth floor, Mary McDonald hopping on. She was in her blue robes, with fresh blood splatters on the sleeves. Alice's eyes widened.

"What've you been doing?"

"I need you to go get the rest of the group," Mary informed her urgently. "There's not enough time for me to contact everyone, I'm just going to the main floor for supplies."

"What are you talking about—"

"It's Marlene," Mary informed her. "She was undercover in the underground Death Eater communities in France. The magazine she was working with had her doing research there and Moody had her sending information back to the Order. They figured out she was a spy and tried to kill her."

Alice gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth in horror. The elevator doors popped open, Mary rushing out.

"I'll give you more news when I have it!" She called behind her shoulder, disappearing down the hall.

She left Alice and Frank behind, the elevator doors sliding shut behind her, the two of them too stunned to realise they'd reached their floor.


A/N: Hope everyone's summer is going well! I'm working non-stop so apologies if the chapter updates are a little sporadic. Hope everyone enjoys the time jump...I've got a lot of good stuff coming up for you. If anyone is interested, there's a new Marauder's fanvid I've made which you can find on my Tumblr! (staganddoeforever). Cheers! xx