There is a war between the left and right,
A war between the black and white,
A war between the odd and the even.

Why don't you come on back to the war? Pick up your tiny burden.
Why don't you come on back to the war? Let's all get even.
Why don't you come on back to the war? Can't you hear me speaking?

What had happened to Lily brought home the reality of the war for James in a way that nothing else ever had. There was a difference between knowing terrible things were happening to people generally, and seeing very specific terrible things happen to a person one cared about.

James had always planned to become an Auror like his father. Before, though, this had been because of the adventure and glamour inherent in the job. Now, it became his obsession. He needed to do something that mattered - something that might protect people from the kind of pain and suffering he had seen in Lily's eyes.

His friends noticed the change in him, though they never knew the cause of it. They watched in varying states of bewilderment and admiration as he gave up pranking and began to focus exclusively on his studies. His entire demeanor became more serious, and in his few remaining months at Hogwarts, he was more often to be found in the library, studying with Remus, that lounging around the castle and the grounds, joking with Sirius and Peter.

At first, his three best friends thought that James was just making another bid to impress Lily, but the Head Boy and Head Girl barely seemed to speak to one another anymore after their one and only date in February. Even that Spring, when Lily's parents were killed in a car crash, James did not emerge from his studious fog.

Their time at Hogwarts came to an end, and while Sirius and Remus moved in together, and Peter got himself a job and a room at the Leaky Cauldron, James remained at his parents' home and trained as an Auror under his father at the Ministry of Magic. He knew from his experience with the Animagus transformation that he could excel at almost anything if he applied himself, and he applied himself to his training with a vengeance. No one would be safe until this war was won, and the Aurors made up the front lines.

James was fast, quick-witted, and agile, as well as being a creative problem solver and possessing the confidence necessary to carry off a disguise. He impressed his superiors with his ability to hide and avoid capture, though he told no one but his father of his Animagus ability. Joseph Potter was impressed, but told his son he must register himself, which James promised to do - after the war.

Though he knew he would not be allowed to participate in active fieldwork until he had completed his training, James pestered and begged his father to be allowed to come along on an assignment. He was a year into his training when his father at last relented.

"You can come and observe," he told his son sternly. "But you must stay hidden."

The assignment was a fairly routine one. Intelligence gathered by the Order of the Phoenix - the Ministry's "unofficial" network of spies and other volunteers - suggested that the Death Eaters would shortly be placing an order for potion ingredient for their recently-recruited - and so far, unidentified - Potions expert. All that was needed was for someone to be present at the apothecary to overhear what the order included. From there, it would hopefully be a simple matter to determine what potions were being made, and hence, what Voldemort was planning.

The rendezvous was scheduled for Halloween morning, and James and Joseph Potter, dressed in Muggle clothing, arrived shortly after dawn to view the layout of the area. The apothecary was located in a mainly-residential area of a suburb of York. After a quick look around, Joseph nodded in satisfaction.

He turned to his son. "Tell me what you see, James."

Observation was an important part of Auror training. James looked up and down the street. "I see a small apothecary shop disguised as a Muggle herbalist. It's the only business nearby. I see a row of Muggle houses and cars. I see a wooded area, beyond which is the local school."

"Good," said his father approvingly. "Now, what do we do?"

James thought for a moment. "Well, the shop doesn't open until nine o'clock, which is in about two hours. The rendezvous is set for half nine, by which time most of these Muggles will be at work or school."

Joseph nodded. "The area will be fairly clear, in case anything goes wrong."

"Which it won't," said James firmly. He looked up and down the street again, continuing his location analysis. "The best place to observe from will be over amongst those trees. We'll be able to see anyone approaching the shop from there, and they'll provide good cover."

"Except that I would rather already be inside the shop when they arrive," Joseph said thoughtfully. "You will observe from the trees. Keep your disguise on, and if anything goes wrong, Apparate to the Ministry at once," he said severely. Then added, "And James? No heroics."

James looked rebellious for a moment, then lowered his eyes. "All right."

Joseph Potter looked at his son fondly as the two of them made their way to the shelter of the trees. "You're a good boy," he said. "I think you'll make a fine Auror one day. But you have to learn to trust people to be able to look after themselves. You're very much like your mother that way."

"I know, Dad," James said uncomfortably. "It's just - if I do it myself, I'll know if it's done right, you know?"

Joseph smiled. "I know, Son. Just remember that most adults can take care of themselves, and if they need help, they'll ask for it. You can't save the world by yourself."

"I know. But sometimes you can save someone's world," he said softly, thinking of green eyes and a soft kiss.

They were silent after that - watchful. The sun rose, revealing a bright, chilly October day. Leaves rustled and fell around them as the two men watched the street intently. Muggles and their children got into cars and headed to their jobs in the city or a day at school, but for James and Joseph Potter, the world seemed to be holding its breath. At last Joseph spoke.

"It's a quarter past. I'll head in now." He gave his son a grin. "If it all goes to hell, tell your mother I love her. You can give her a kiss from me if you like, but it might be better not to squeeze her bum," he joked.

James looked pale and anxious, but tried to return his father's grin. "I'll be here when you get back, Dad."

"Off I go, then. Let's see that magnificent rack, Son."

James shifted forms as his father took a swig of Polyjuice potion. He pawed the ground nervously as the man who now looked nothing like his father gave him a brief pat on the shoulder and strolled down the street toward the apothecary as if he had not a care in the world. James heard the bell over the shop's door jingle faintly in the distance. He waited, tense, hardly daring to breathe, his sleek coat blending with the shadows.

Several minutes passed before he heard it: three tiny but distinct popping noises - the sound of wizards Apparating.

Three? For an assignment like this? That can't be right. But there they were. He felt his stomach twisting into knots.

James did not recognise any of the figures, but then, they were probably using Polyjuice, too. The autumn breeze carried their conversation to his sharp ears. They seemed to be discussing Quidditch. Maybe it was nothing, and these were not Death Eaters. Even if it wasn't nothing, his father was one of the best Aurors in the Ministry; he could handle anything they threw at him.

Even if something does go wrong, it'll be all right. I can stun them from here if they try to run.

Suddenly, with a loud pop, another figure Apparated, not twenty feet from his hiding place. This one, he recognised.

Shoving her hair back from her forehead in annoyance, Lily Evans viewed the shelves of carefully-labeled bottles, jars, and boxes without much hope.

You'd think one of the foremost hospitals in the Wizarding world could do better than this. She sighed in frustration.

"It's not a question of quantity," she informed the witch in Purchasing a few moments later. "It's the quality I'm worried about. Look at this dragonbone," she said, shoving the item in question under the witch's nose. "It's got to be three months past its sell-by date. Look, it's gone all squidgy and brown." She poked the usually-rocklike root in demonstration. Her finger left a deep indentation.

"And this acromantula venom," she continued, shaking a small bottle of pale blue liquid. "It should be green. Some cheap bastard has gone and diluted it with something. God knows what."

"If you'll write up a list of what you need," said the Purchasing witch blandly, "I'm sure we can get it to you in a couple of weeks."

"That's not good enough," Lily insisted. "Whoever you've got buying this stuff doesn't know mandrake root from gillyweed. They're obviously just buying whatever's cheapest. And it's never two weeks; it's more like a month."

The Purchasing witch looked nonplussed. "If you'd like to file a complaint -"

"No. Never mind." Lily threw her hands in the air. "I'll do it myself. I know, I know," she said as the witch opened her mouth to speak again. "Itemised receipts. I'll get them to you."

If you want something done right -

She returned to her desk in the St Mungo's Potions laboratory to collect her coat before Apparating to a clump of trees near her favourite apothecary. Before she could get her bearings, she was startled by a sudden flicker of movement in the shadows beside her.

To encounter a magnificently-antlered stag in the wilderness of the Scottish highlands is a breathtaking experience. To find oneself staring one in the face from not twenty feet away in the midst of the suburbs of a decent-sized English city is enough to unsettle anyone.

Lily froze. Seconds seemed to stretch on into eternity as neither of them moved.

A sudden shout and a flash of green light at the corner of her eye made her spin around. The stag leapt forward, and suddenly James Potter was standing beside her.

"What -?" she began, bewildered.

"Dad!" he cried, starting forward. His eyes were fixed on the apothecary shop as its door burst open and three figures emerged at a run, wands in hand.

Instinctively, Lily grabbed James and dragged him back. But it was too late; they had been seen. The three wands were trained on them, and one of the approaching figures began to laugh.

Without a second's thought, Lily wrapped her arms around the stunned young man and Apparated them both the hell out of there.

They sat side by side in the Aurors' office at the Ministry of Magic. James was rocking slowly back and forth, staring straight ahead, but clearly seeing nothing. Lily did not want to leave him there by himself, but she could tell from his body language that the slightest touch would have him up and pacing again.

He looked pale and haunted - entirely unlike the arrogant, loudmouthed prankster of her school days. This was the same stranger with whom she had gone to Hogsmeade on that Valentine's Day date almost two years ago. He had been just as pale and distracted, and had barely said two words to her. Seeing him so now made her wonder again what could have happened then to make him like that. It was utterly bewildering to her, and she did not know what to say or do. So she sat in silence, and together, they waited.

Witches and wizards were moving about the office, some restlessly, some purposefully. Every now and then, two or three would stop and speak to one another in low voices, casting glances at James and Lily where they sat, waiting for word.

A team of Aurors had been dispatched to the apothecary to assess the situation, and to retrieve Joseph Potter and deliver him to St Mungo's, if there was a need. A second team was awaiting the first team's report. It would be their duty to deliver such news as there was to Eleanor Potter.

"He's dead." The hoarse voice startled Lily. James had not spoken since their arrival at the Ministry. Lily herself had made the witness statement which had sent the team out to assess the damage.

"You can't be sure, James," she said softly.

He shook his head. "He'd be back by now. You saw the green light. He wouldn't keep me waiting."

Lily knew it was true. She did not want to say anything trite about it being quick or him going to a better place, and she did not think James would hear her, in any case. Silence descended again.

It was another fifteen minutes before the Aurors returned. Their grim faces told that the news was not good, but they walked past Lily and James without a glance, entered an office, and closed the door behind them. Lily strained her ears to catch any part of the conversation, but could pick nothing out of the murmur of voices. At last, the door opened again, and the two Aurors emerged, looking very tired. A plump, motherly-looking witch leaned around the door frame and beckoned Lily and James inside.

Lily hesitated. "I should go," she said softly. "I mean, I didn't - don't even know your dad."

James looked at her, hazel eyes pleading. "Don't," he whispered. He fumbled for her hand and the two of them walked through the doorway together.

The motherly-looking witch seemed unsurprised at Lily's presence. She shook the girl's free hand briefly in greeting. "I'm Detective Cassandra Clarke," she introduced herself. "I'm the Magical Law Enforcement liaison to the Auror's Office. I know young James here, but I don't believe we've met."

"Lily Evans," Lily replied, awkwardly returning Detective Clarke's handshake. "I'm a -friend of James' from school," she added. The word sounded odd. She had never thought of herself and James as friends before.

Detective Clarke nodded. "Please sit down, both of you." She summoned two glasses of water, and Lily noticed that a box of tissues already sat upon her desk.

The strained smile of welcome faded from the witch's face, and lines of sadness appeared. "James," she said quietly but firmly, "there is no gentle way to say this. I'm sorry to inform you that your father is dead."

James closed his eyes and shivered. "I know," he whispered.

"We already have Miss Evans' statement," Detective Clarke continued gently, "but we will need you to make one as well. Perhaps you will be able to shed some light on the identity of your attackers?"

Not opening his eyes, James shook his head. "I didn't recognise any of them. They were young, though. If they were wearing their real faces, they would have been at Hogwarts with us."

The detective nodded grimly. "Now that they have a Potions expert at their disposal, Polyjuice will be as readily available to their side as to ours. Identification will be more of a problem than ever, if people aren't using their own faces."

"Maybe Maxwell knows something," Lily suggested tentatively. "The apothecary, I mean."

The grim line of Detective Clarke's mouth tightened. "The apothecary is dead."

"Oh." Lily had been rather fond of the old man. He had been a kindly, grandfatherly sort. She found that there were tears in her eyes.

The detective turned back to James. "Identities aside," she continued, "we will still need you to file your report. I know it's difficult, but you are a witness and a member of this department. We cannot let our personal -"

There was a preemptory knock at the door, and an Auror entered. "Detective Clarke -" Then she caught sight of James and Lily. "Detective, may I speak with you a moment?"

The detective rose. "I'll return presently," she assured the two young people. The door closed behind her.

Very slowly, James Potter crumpled. He sat hunched in his chair, face buried in his hands. There was a moment of silence, then an enormous sob erupted from his throat and he began to shake. Lily felt the tears spill down her own cheeks, and turned to wrap her arms around him.

"What am I going to tell Mum?" he sobbed. "I should have -"

"It's not your fault," she murmured. "There's nothing you could have done. She'll know you did your best."

"But all I did was hide," he protested.

She drew back, remembering, and looked at him intently. "Did I really see what I thought I saw?" she asked. "The stag. Was it you?"

He raised reddened eyes to hers. "Yes," he confessed softly. "I'm an Animagus."

Lily was awestruck. "I never knew. How long -?"

"Since fifth year." He looked down at his hands. "I never told anyone but Dad."

"You're not registered?" she asked, shocked. "But that's illegal!"

"I meant to register after the war. I told Dad I would -" Another sob welled up in his chest. He swallowed. "And I will. I promised."

She took his hand, trying to draw him away from the precarious edge of that gaping pit of grief. "Why did you do it, if you never meant to tell anyone?" she asked. "That doesn't sound like the James Potter I know."

"I did it for a friend," he whispered.

"What?" She stared at him, uncomprehending.

"Remus needed -" he shook his head. "It's all a secret," he confessed. "None of us has ever told anyone."

She smiled a little tremulously. "I know Remus is a werewolf, James," she informed him. "He told me a long time ago. That's why you all called him 'Moony', isn't it?"

James's mouth dropped open in shock, then he closed it and nodded. "That's why we did it," he said at last. "So the wolf wouldn't have to be alone."

"We?" Lily gasped. "You mean, all of you -?"

He nodded again. "All three of us became Animagi for him. He wasn't a danger to other animals. And he was - better - when we were with him."

"But that's incredible," she said softly. "I never knew you could be so - Remus was really lucky to have you as friends."

"Well, he's a good friend."

James was about to say more, but the door opened again. Detective Clarke's eyes were red from weeping, but her professional demeanor was firmly in place.

"James," she said hoarsely, then cleared her throat. "I'm afraid I have some more bad news."

"My father is dead," he said bitterly. "I doubt anything you could tell me will make me feel much worse." But Lily felt his grip on her hands tighten in fear.

Detective Clarke bowed her head and gazed at her clasped hands for a moment. "James," she said again, and her voice sounded tight. "We sent a team of Aurors to your home. They found -" she took a deep breath, "- they found the Dark Mark over it."

"Mum?" His voice was high and frightened as a child's, and filled with desolation. It sent a shiver down Lily's spine.

Still staring at her hands, Detective Clarke continued, "We think it was a setup. We're investigating the source of the original information on the apothecary rendezvous, but we believe that they knew which areas your father patrolled. They certainly knew he was one of our best and brightest. They were ready for him, and in the meantime, they sent someone to your house when they knew he wouldn't be at home. We think they meant to get you and your mother both," she added softly, looking up at last. "They wanted to hit us where it hurts. And they did."

James's face was blank and white with shock. He looked as though he were about to crumble into nothing. Lily had a sudden urge to pry her fingers out of his and wrap her arms around him, holding him together through sheer force of will. She felt again the desolation she had experienced when she had lost her own parents, suddenly and violently, only eighteen months before. She wished she could save James the pain she knew he was feeling, but she knew there was very little she could do. He would have to get through it in his own way, as she had.

In the meantime, Detective Clarke was speaking. "Do you have someplace safe you can go?"

James continued to stare, uncomprehending, and Lily realised there was something she could do.

"Yes," she said. "He does."

Nothing felt real. It was all a nightmare and soon he would wake up and his mother would be downstairs cooking breakfast and his father would be telling him to hurry up or they would be late. He reached out and touched the cold, rough stone of the wall. Could he dream that texture or the chill in the air or the soft weeping of the red-haired girl kneeling at the grate, laying a fire to warm the room?

He tried to feel something - something that did not tear at his insides. At last, he found a tiny spark of gratitude. No one was asking him questions anymore - asking that he speak and remember. All was quiet now. It was a relief. Lily had been there to answer the hard questions, and then make the people asking them go away. Lily felt real.

She had brought him here to this place of safety - to Hogwarts - and told Professor Dumbledore what had happened. Dumbledore had quickly summoned a house-elf to arrange a room for him, and then rushed off to the Ministry. Now she turned to look at him as if she could feel his eyes on her. For a long moment, neither of them said anything.

At last she rose. "You should try to get some rest," she said. "I'll go."

"Don't." He could not keep the pleading from his voice, and his hand reached toward her without his willing it.

She came to him quickly and held him in a tight embrace. "Oh, James! I'm so, so sorry," she said tearfully.

He swallowed a sob, letting his arms find their way around her slender waist. "I can't even think about it anymore. Not tonight," he said. "Stay with me. Talk to me. Help me think about something else. Anything at all."

"All right. Tell me -" she began, "- tell me about being Animagi. I can't get over the fact that all three of you managed it. It's incredible."

He smiled slightly at the look of admiration in her eyes. There was a time when he would have given anything for such a look from her. He wondered if that time had passed. Only this morning, he had been a completely different person.

He told her a little about the transformation, and some of the adventures they had had, but somehow every story seemed to take him back to the subject of his parents, and grief would wash over him again. Every time this happened, Lily was there to hold him until the shaking subsided. After the third time, he apologised.

"It's all right," she said. "I know what it feels like, remember?"

He closed his eyes as two more tears spilled down his cheeks. "How did you manage?" he asked quietly.

"Good friends. A few talks with Dumbledore and McGonagall. And a lot of tissues," she confessed. "It's awful at first, but I promise you it gets easier. And in the meantime, you have your friends to help see you through. Sirius and Remus and Peter. And me."

"But it's not just that," he said bitterly. "It's this whole fucking war. So long as I have friends, I still have something to lose. Will they take everything from us, Lily?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "Sometimes I think we have to win this war, because the alternative is too terrible to contemplate. And sometimes I don't think we can win without stooping to their methods." She sighed. "I think maybe the most important thing I learned from my parents' accident is that you can never know what's going to happen, so you've just got to do the best you can with the time you've got."

James looked at her miserably. "I thought I was," he said. "I thought being an Auror was the best I could do."

She smiled a little at that. "You could have done a lot worse," she told him.

"But that's just it; I lost sight of the reason I decided to become an Auror - the thing I was best at."

"What was that?" she asked curiously.

"Loving you."

"Oh."

"I wanted to do something to make the world a better, safer place for you to live in. And I thought maybe, once the war was over -"

"But we tried that, didn't we? And it didn't work out." She remembered again the silent stranger from their Valentine's date.

He shook his head. "That was my fault. The war sort of - took me by surprise, I guess. I hadn't had time to adjust to it yet. I was a different person then."

"I noticed," she replied.

"And I'm a different person now, I think." He looked at her hopelessly. "Who am I, Lily?"

She looked at him for a long moment. "You're James Potter," she said at last. "And it means the same thing it's always meant, and a few new things, besides. But you'll learn those in time."

He lowered his eyes. "I don't know what I would have done today without you. Call it God or Fate or whatever, but I can't believe it was coincidence that you were there."

"I'm glad I could help," she replied.

"I just wish there was some way I could thank you."

They were silent for a moment, arms around one another, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Lily?"

"Hmmm?"

"Would you mind very much if I kissed you?"

She raised her head an looked into his sad, hopeful eyes. "I think I'd like that," she said.

Their lips met. The kiss was as soft and tentative as their first had been, and she wondered why she remembered that one tasting of tears as well.

So much had changed since then. He was no longer the maddeningly-arrogant joker of their school days, but neither was he the silent stranger of their awkward date. He was a man who had, in the space of a few hours, earned her admiration and her sympathy. He had proved his devotion to his friends, and confessed his love for her. She had seen enough to want to know more.

Nor was she the same person as she had been. A year of seeing firsthand the casualties and effects of a war waged against people like herself had taught her that the rules were not nearly as rigid as she used to believe. Some rules had to be bent and some had to be broken in the name of the greater good. She had learned the value of daring and courage, and now a man who had both in abundance had told her he loved her.

More than anything, she wanted to do all she could to comfort him. And she realised she had something she could give to help him lose himself and maybe find something good, at least for a while. She kissed him again, longer this time, the tip of her tongue touching his lips, inviting.

He made a soft sound in his throat, and his arms tightened around her in response. His hands moved over her body, and she let them wander. When he paused and drew back, a question in his eyes, she answered by reaching for the fastenings of his robes.

The touch of his skin on hers was warm in the cool air of the room. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his hands tracing the curves of her breasts and hips. Opening her eyes to look at him, she felt terrified and excited all at once. She could see in his eyes how much he wanted this.

"I've never done this before," he confessed.

"It will be all right," she told him.

Her thighs parted and his hand moved between them, cupping her damp heat in his palm. She gasped.

"I swear to you, Lily," he whispered, "I will never let them harm you. I will keep you safe."

"I know," she murmured, drawing him down to her.

His tears fell on her cheeks as he entered her, but neither one of them wanted to stop. They could feel, and it meant that they were both still alive, here between the odd and the even, and with their bodies they did their best to drive back the darkness for a time.

The spill of copper silk on the pillow beside him tickled his nose and woke him. For a moment, he remembered nothing. Then it all came back at once. The horror and loss of the day before, mingled with the sweetness of the night that had followed.

Lily lay beside him, pale skin glowing in the morning light, golden lashes swept downward in sleep. He watched in silence the rise and fall of her breasts, wishing he could caress them again, but not wanting to wake her just yet. He knew if he touched her, he would want nothing more than to lose himself in her all over again. He marveled at the magic she held to make the pain go away.

He must have made a sound, for she opened her green eyes. For a moment, she looked startled to see him, then she blushed and smiled shyly. "Good morning."

In answer, he moved close and kissed her, reveling in the taste of her soft lips. He was already hard and longing for the slick, enveloping warmth of her. She turned toward him, eager and willing.

There was a knock at the door.

"Go away!" James shouted.

"Prongs - James - is that you?" called a voice in reply.

"Slytherin's arse!" James groaned, rolling out of bed. He fumbled for his robes and wrapped them clumsily around his waist before going to the door.

In the corridor stood Sirius Black, wild-eyed, tears staining his cheeks. "James, I just heard. I've been trying to find you for hours. What are you doing here? Why didn't you contact me? How -" He looked beyond James into the room and stopped, staring openmouthed at the redhead in the bed. "Is this a bad time?" he said at last.

The look of shock on Sirius's face was too much for James after the high-running emotions of the previous twenty-four hours. He broke down and laughed until he had to sit on the floor, wiping his streaming eyes.

"Oh, God! Padfoot, if you could only see your face!" he gasped. "'Is this a bad time?' It could hardly be worse, mate."

At last, he sobered up, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely to his shocked friend. "Things have been crazy. I'm sorry I didn't get in touch."

Sirius nodded, his eyes still fixed on Lily. "Dumbledore told me to come get you," he said at last. "There's stuff you have to do. Paperwork. Signing things. He said better sooner than later."

James sighed. He knew there was a lot to do. There was a long, hard day ahead of him. But he would get through it, he knew, because Lily was right; he had his friends to help him. And he had Lily, who had made a promise to him with her body last night. She was his too, and he would not lose her. He would fight this war on every front, and he was damned if he would suffer Voldemort and his Death Eaters to take one more thing from him.