When James woke the next morning, the first weak rays of sunlight were peeking through the gaps in the curtain. He reached for Lily but found the other side of the bed empty. Faint sparks of panic shot through him as he threw back the blankets and hurried from the room, but his shoulders slumped with relief when he saw Lily asleep on the sofa. Her arm poked from under the bright orange blanket, her fingers curled around Sirius's thick fur. James resisted the urge to kiss her – she needed sleep, poor thing. Careful not to make unnecessary noise, he tiptoed back to the bedroom to change, then slipped out of the flat for a quick run.
After being abducted during a run several weeks ago, he had been instructed not to go out alone unless it was absolutely necessary, but after a few days without his morning run, his limbs were filled with an antsy, restless buzzing, and thoughts whirled in his head until he couldn't stand it any longer. Running was absolutely necessary, he had decided, and as long as he paid attention and kept his wits about him, he would be fine – or, at least, he hoped he would be fine.
It had rained overnight, and the air held a damp chill as he bounded over partially-frozen puddles. His breath steamed out in front of him as he pushed his legs forward, relishing the wind in his face. His thoughts turned to Lily, jostling for a solution, some sort of strategic plan to ease her pain, but he came up empty. The faces of his own parents swam into his mind, and his stomach twisted when he imagined losing them. Grinding to a halt, he turned and jogged back toward the flat, with no plan besides pulling Lily into his arms and holding her for as long as she needed him.
Peter and Remus had both left when James returned to the flat, but Lily and Sirius were still asleep on the sofa under the Cannons blanket. When Lily stirred and opened her eyes, her face was so bloodless and puffy from crying that James leaned down to kiss her, not caring that he had to rest his chin on Sirius's head to do so.
"Budge up, Padfoot."
Sirius lifted his shaggy head, then hopped down from the sofa and stretched before transforming and heading to his bedroom. James stretched out beside Lily and slid his arms around her, covering her face with light kisses.
"What time is it?" she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. "We should get up – I'm supposed to meet Moody at nine, and you–"
"We're not working today," James said, his voice gentle but firm. "You're in no state to patrol – you look like you barely slept."
"Well, you should at least go."
"I'm not leaving you." He ran his hand up and down her back, his fingertips sliding over the sharp knobs of her spine. "Who's going to bring you meals in bed?"
"You can't cook," she said, the hint of a smile lifting her lips.
"I've gotten very good at toast," he protested. "And I make great tea."
"Moony says your tea is a bit questionable, but he is a bit of a tea snob." She kissed his cheek, her cracked lips brushing against his stubble. "Fine, if we're not working today, we should go and get Duncan from Mrs. Lowell."
"Padfoot and I will go," James insisted. "You stay here and rest."
"But you don't even know her. What if she doesn't want to just hand the dog off to strangers?"
James chuckled. "I'm very charming – so is Padfoot, when he's not being an obnoxious arsehole. She'll probably invite us in for tea, maybe ask us to move in – don't worry about us." He kissed her forehead, then extricated himself from her and strode across the room to wake up Sirius.
"What's our plan for this dog?" Sirius asked as they strolled up Mrs. Lowell's front walk. "We're not going to keep him for good, are we?"
James shorted with laughter. "Are you jealous? Don't want another dog stealing all the attention?"
Sirius shoved him, and James had to grab the edge of his jacket to avoid falling into Mrs. Lowell's rhododendrons.
"I'm not jealous. I just don't think any of us are home enough to have a dog." He glanced sideways at James and narrowed his eyes. "But also, Evans did say I make a very cute dog, so maybe you're the one who should be jealous."
James came to a stop in front of the front door. "Nah, she's right. You are a cute dog. Makes up for how ugly you are as a human."
"Is that supposed to insult me?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Rubbish – I'm bloody gorgeous and you know it." His expression turned grave as James knocked on the door. "I feel horrible for Evans."
James nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Me too. I dunno what to do to help her. Hopefully the dog will help."
The door swung open, and James caught a glimpse of a stooped, white-haired woman before he was nearly bowled over by a yellow labrador. Laughing, he smiled up at the startled woman while the dog licked his hand.
"Mrs. Lowell? I'm James Potter, Lily Evans's fiancé. I'm here for Duncan, if you can stand to part with him…"
Lily spent most of the next week on the couch, wrapped in the Chudley Cannons blanket, with Duncan sprawled across her legs or dozing on the floor beside her. The first night she fell asleep in the living room, James levitated her to their bed, but by the time he woke up the next morning, she had migrated back to the sofa. The second night he offered to sleep beside her, but she complained there was only room for one person, so he took one of the mattresses from the bunk bed and squeezed it in next to the coffee table. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night to find her staring at the ceiling or stroking Duncan's ears, but when he tried to speak to her, she told him to go back to sleep.
James brought her toast with strawberry jam and endless mugs of tea that piled up on the coffee table, untouched. Sometimes she would tear off a bit of crust, and James's heart would leap, but then she would feed it to Duncan, or mash it between her fingers before tossing it back onto the plate. He tried various types of takeaways; an enormous ice cream sundae from Florean Fortescue's that dripped hot fudge all over his hand; even an assortment of Muggle sweets Mary had helped him buy.
"You've got to eat something, Evs," he implored as she shoved away a Mars bar.
"I'm not hungry," she said in the flat, listless tone that had become her default. She sighed, then picked up the chocolate bar and offered it to him. "You have it. It's sort of like that Honeydukes nougat bar you like."
He perched on the coffee table in front of her and took her hand. "What about some eggs? Or there's a full bag of crisps that I've been hiding from Padfoot. Or what about the pie my parents sent over? Twinkletoes makes an excellent steak and kidney pie…"
She shook her head and pulled at a loose thread on the blanket, her gaze vacant and detached. James moved to the sofa and pulled her into a hug, overcome by the wave of helplessness and sorrow he felt every time he looked at the dark circles under her eyes and the sharp jut of her cheekbones.
When he came back from a walk with Duncan and found Lily munching a biscuit while Peter and Mary chatted, he blinked back tears of relief. Afraid to startle her into changing her mind, he hesitated in the doorway until Peter beckoned him into the kitchen on the pretense of making them tea.
"I've been worried about her," Peter whispered, taking four mugs from the cabinet and filling them each with a stream of steaming water from his wand. "And I bake when I'm worried, so I figured I'd stop by with some biscuits."
James threw his arms around Peter; he started and splashed scalding water onto the floor.
"Sorry," James murmured, releasing him and Vanishing the water with a wave of his wand. "I've been so worried about her, too. It's good to see her eating. Thanks, Pete."
Peter busied himself with finishing the tea. "I didn't really do anything. Mary's the one who convinced her to have one."
Duncan was licking crumbs from Mary's fingers when James and Peter brought in the steaming mugs of tea. James perched on the arm of the sofa, then leaned over to kiss Lily. He tasted a hint of gingersnaps on her breath, and there was a vitality in the pressure of her lips that he hadn't sensed in days. Grinning, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.
"I love Duncan," Mary announced, patting her leg until he hopped up and settled on her lap. "He's like Black, but less obnoxious. Can we keep him?"
Lily sighed. "I don't think we're home enough to keep him. My parents–" Her voice faltered, but she cleared her throat and continued. "My parents worked long hours, but Mrs. Lowell used to stop by all the time to let him out. I wish I knew someone who'd want to take him in."
"I've been thinking about that," Peter said, his fingers curled around his mug of tea. "Maybe my mum could take him. I think she gets a bit lonely – I go for dinner a lot, but she's always asking me to come more often." A twinge of guilt crept into his voice. "Anyway, I think she'd quite like a dog. I'll ask her, if you like."
Lily's face lit up. "That would be brilliant. And then you could visit him when you go there for dinner."
"You could come visit him sometimes, if you wanted to," Peter offered, shrugging.
"I will, thanks." Lily looked down at the half-eaten biscuit in her hand, then added, "And thanks for bringing these. It's the first thing I've eaten in days."
Mary nudged Peter and rolled her eyes. "She's not in the club."
Peter grinned and shook his head. "No, definitely not."
"What club?" James asked, frowning.
"The eat your feelings club." Peter chuckled and added, "It's not a real club, obviously – we don't have meetings or anything–"
"Excuse me, we had a meeting the other day," Mary said, gesturing and sending biscuit crumbs flying through the air. "We sat on your couch and ate an entire cake. Without plates!"
"We used forks," Peter said, a bit defensively.
"Well, yeah, we're not savages." Mary laughed and tossed a strand of hair out of her face. "You should really join us, Lil. It's the best way to live your life."
Peter narrowed his eyes as he reached for another biscuit. "But is it? Because after you licked the frosting from the bottom of the cake pan, you said, 'I am a disgusting excuse for a human being, and I've lost all dignity and self-respect.'"
Mary covered her face with her hands. "I had frosting in my hair. That makes it hard to have any self-respect."
Peter nodded. "That's fair, I suppose." He lowered his voice. "You also had a bit on your face."
"Yes, well, Black licked that off later, so no harm done," she said with a shrug.
Later, James emerged from brushing his teeth to find Lily tucked under the duvet in their bed.
"The sofa was starting to hurt my back," she said when he beamed and slid in beside her. "And I can't mope around forever."
James brushed a strand of hair out of her face, noticing the dark circles that still lurked beneath her eyes and the pallor of her skin that made her faint spray of freckles stand out. "It's not moping. It's grieving, and you're allowed to grieve as long as you need to. But I have missed this." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, slipping his hand under her shirt to run his fingers up her back and along the delicate bones of her shoulder blades.
"Me too." She sighed and relaxed against him for a moment, then struggled upright.
"What're you doing?" James asked, watching her pad across the room to the desk by the window and pull a sheet of parchment from the drawer.
She dipped her quill into a pot of ink and frowned down at the parchment. "I have to write a eulogy for tomorrow."
James started. She had been so silent on the subject, he had almost forgotten the funeral was tomorrow.
"I thought your sister was going to do it," he said, his tone cautious. Even the briefest bit of public speaking terrified Lily. When the letter from Petunia had arrived two days after her visit, Lily's reaction had been so incoherent and panicked that James had resorted to reading the letter to figure out what was the matter.
"You wrote to her and told her she needs to do it," Lily said without looking up from her parchment. "That doesn't mean she's actually going to do it. And I don't want her to say I'm too much of a coward to say a few nice things about my own parents."
"Nobody will think that," James began, but she held up a hand.
"I've got to do this." There was a steely bite in her words that made argument impossible, so James gave a resigned sigh.
"Do you need help?"
"No. I just need to buckle down and do it. I'll come to bed in a bit."
James was halfway to sleep when he heard an anguished cry.
"I can't do this," Lily moaned, throwing down her quill and sliding back in her chair. "Why did I even bother writing this? I know I'm not going to be able to read it. I'll freeze and stand up there looking like an idiot until you apologize to everyone and walk me back to my seat."
"Hey." James threw back the covers and crossed the room to stand beside her, the floor chilly against his bare feet. "I'm not going to apologize for you, first of all. You don't owe anyone an apology." He touched her shoulder and felt the tense coil of her muscles under his fingertips. "What if we go up together, and I read the speech for you?"
She sighed. "I couldn't make you do that."
"Why not? I love the sound of my own voice." She glanced up at him and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I don't mind. I just want to make this easier for you. It breaks my heart, seeing you like this and not being able to do anything to help."
"You are helping." She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, and he watched tears spatter down onto the parchment. "I don't know how I'd manage without you. And if you really mean it about reading the eulogy for me, I think I'd like that."
"Good. Now, I think you should come to bed so I can rub your back, because I heard it's a bit sore from sleeping on that sofa."
He led her back to bed and climbed in beside her, glad to be able to help ease some of her pain, even if it was only through little gestures like reading a speech and rubbing the knots from her back.
When Lily awoke the next morning, she lay in bed with her eyes closed for a few minutes before she could muster the motivation to sit up.
"Morning," James said, handing her a mug of tea. "And before you ask, yes, I'm a lazy arsehole and skipped my run. I didn't want you to wake up alone today."
He was so earnest and attentive, sitting there fully dressed with his hair damp from the shower, and she wanted to smile and ease the worried lines between his brows. The muscles of her face wouldn't cooperate, though, so instead she took a sip of tea, letting the hot liquid burn away some of the dread choking the back of her throat.
"Hey." He touched her knee under the blanket. "You can do this. Just get through the day, and we can come back and sleep, or get drunk, or I can draw you a nice hot bath – whatever you like. Just get through the day."
It was her mantra as she stood under the pounding pressure of the shower; as she allowed Mary to curl her hair and apply makeup to her wan face; as she pulled on the same black dress she had worn to Slughorn's Christmas party almost a year ago.
"Here, let me," James said, zipping up the dress and slipping an arm around her waist. "You look really nice."
She sighed and peered into the mirror, taking note of the hollows in her cheekbones and the permanent frown lines around her mouth.
"No I don't. But I look presentable."
Just get through the day, she thought as she reached for her necklace on the bedside table and draped it around her neck for James to clasp. Just get through the day.
She repeated the mantra as the six of them assembled in the living room and prepared to Apparate to the agreed-upon spot near the church, and as she and James led the way to their seats. Petunia and Vernon were seated in the front pew, prim and proper in their black attire, and they shot Lily a dirty look when the group of wizards shuffled in to sit beside them.
"This pew is for family," Petunia hissed, her eyes traveling from Mary's low-cut neckline to the scar on Remus's chin.
"We are her family," Sirius said, flashing Petunia a defiant smile. "And by the way, it's rude to stare."
Mary sighed and elbowed him. "Black…"
"What? You kicked me the last time I stared down your shirt like that, and she's just fucking looking like she's never seen tits before." He glanced sideways at Petunia's bony chest and grimaced. "Well, alright, maybe she hasn't."
Remus snorted with laughter, then pressed his hand to his mouth and sank down in his seat. "I'm so sorry," he muttered, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
"Sirius, I appreciate the support, but you've got to shut up," Lily whispered as Petunia whispered furiously to Vernon.
It was a closed-casket service – Lily supposed that was because the bodies had been too damaged by the explosion to be made presentable by the mortician. That suited Lily fine, because even the thought of seeing her parents' bodies made her skin prickle. When it was time to give her eulogy, she gave the caskets a wide berth as she approached the podium. To her surprise, the entire group followed her up and surrounded her, wearing bracing, encouraging expressions.
"We figured you could use some extra support," Remus murmured as Lily's shaking hands made the eulogy waver in her hands. "But if we're crowding you, just say the word and we'll clear out."
"Just get through the day," James mouthed, squeezing her hand and reaching for the parchment.
She gazed down at the parchment, filled with her bouncy handwriting, and expected to feel the usual sickening lurch of nervousness brought on by public speaking. Instead, she found only grim determination.
"I'm okay," she whispered. "I think I've got it." She gave his hand a squeeze in return before clearing her throat and setting the parchment on the podium. "Er, hi. For those who don't know me, I'm Lily, Brian and June's younger daughter." She glanced over and watched Petunia crying into a handkerchief with Vernon's meaty arm wrapped around her. Her gaze drifted to the friends surrounding her, her eyes traveling from Sirius's surprisingly smart suit to Peter's tight, anxious smile, to the pride emanating from James's gaze. She took a deep breath, then returned to her speech.
"My parents meant different things to different people, but I think one thing that made them really special was how they loved and supported my sister and me no matter what. We took different paths in life – my sister went the traditional route, with a nice, respectable job and fiancé." Lily shot a reproachful glance at Petunia, but tore her eyes away and continued before she said something she would regret. "I went off to this school in the middle of nowhere and took obscure classes that my parents knew nothing about, yet every holiday they talked to me about my classes and my friends and how I was getting on with exams and prefect duties. My mom and I would watch this silly soap opera together every summer, and my dad would let me take him for drives in his car. And then I came home with a new boyfriend who's never stepped foot in Cokeworth or anywhere like it and has never watched a single football match." She cast an apologetic glance at James, but he grinned and shrugged.
"So my dad handed him a beer and gave him permission to marry me, while my mom showed him embarrassing baby pictures of me that they couldn't stop laughing about." Her words caught in her throat, but she looked over at her friends and took strength from their encouraging expressions. "My parents knew how to find common ground with people, no matter how different they seemed. Which is something we need more of, today more than ever…"
Afterwards Petunia directed everyone to join them for refreshments in the basement of the church, but Lily couldn't face the sympathetic expressions and dry sandwiches. Instead, she led the others along the roads she had walked as a child until they reached her empty childhood home. The air inside was close and stuffy as she stepped into the familiar kitchen and gazed at the table where she and Petunia had eaten breakfast together until Lily went off to Hogwarts.
"My sister told me to take anything I want, because she's going to clean everything out tomorrow," Lily said, tracing a scratch in the smooth wood of the table. She had gouged it with a butter knife, she remembered suddenly, and she had blamed it on Petunia. The thought made her smile, despite the impossible weight of the day.
"Do you want us to do anything?" Peter offered. "Box anything up, or…?"
Lily shook her head. "Petunia wanted to handle everything, so if she's got to pack everything manually, well, that's her choice."
The house had a strange atmosphere, as though Lily's parents were hiding out of sight, whispering and suppressing laughter. Every time Lily turned a corner or opened a door, she half-expected them to jump out and explain through giggles that this had all been an elaborate prank. But of course they were gone, save for little reminders of their presence: a whiff of her mother's scent on a scarf draped across the back of a chair; her father's work shoes tucked beside the front door; a note scrawled on a notepad and stuck on the kitchen counter, beseeching the reader to buy milk. Lily wondered idly if the full bottle of milk was now languishing in the refrigerator – or perhaps neither of them had ever gotten around to buying any. It doesn't matter now.
Lily stood in the doorway of her parents room, taking in the neatly made bed and the bright, cheerful curtains lining the windows. The air in here was thick with her parents' scent, and thick with the ghost of their presence. She took a step forward, the floorboards creaking under her weight, then shook her head and closed the door behind her. Just get through the day, she reminded herself. If she went into this room, she wasn't sure she would be able to get through the day.
When she returned to the kitchen, Peter and Remus were Vanishing the food in the refrigerator while James and Sirius paged through a photo album.
"We figured we'd save your sister the trouble," Peter said, pointing his wand at a full carton of milk and sending it to join the rest of the uneaten food.
"But don't worry," Remus added as he cleared out the vegetable drawer. "Padfoot wouldn't let us Vanish the beer."
"I didn't think your dad would approve," Sirius said from across the room.
"Thanks, Padfoot," she said as she joined them and Sirius set a beer in front of her. The cold liquid fizzed on her tongue, and she could almost hear her father chiding her mother for stealing sips of his beer. She drank the whole can as James and Sirius exclaimed over various pictures of her as a baby, a chubby toddler, a scraggly-haired child. When the can was empty, she crushed it, savoring the crunch between her fingers, then wrapped her mother's scarf around her neck and breathed in deeply. Tears pricked her eyes, but she bit her lip until they receded. Just get through today.
"I think I'm ready to go home." She stood up, then traced the peeling cover of the photo album before tucking it under her arm. "I'm taking this. Petunia will probably want it, but sod her. If she really wants it, she can march her arse down to Diagon Alley to get it."
"I wonder what she'll do with the car," Sirius mused as the six of them filed down the front walk and prepared to Apparate. "It doesn't exactly seem like Vernon Dursley's sort of car, does it?"
Lily stopped; Peter had to jump sideways to avoid plowing into her, but she barely noticed as she gazed at the car.
"No, he's got some fancy something or other," James said. "He spent about ten minutes telling me about it, but I wasn't listening. Evs, are you alright?"
He touched her shoulder, but she darted away and jogged back to the house. She fumbled for the key under the mat, then gave up and opened the door with magic. The car keys were hanging on the wall as always, and they made a satisfying jingle as she ran back outside.
"We're taking the car," she said, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "My dad would want me to have it."
Her smile faltered as she realized there was nowhere to park a car at the flat. As though he had read her mind, James spoke up.
"We can keep it at my parents' house for now, if you like," he suggested, beaming at her. "They'll be happy to see you. They've been really worried."
"Have they?"
He reached for her hand and ran his thumb along her fingers. "They've owled every day."
His words surprised her – she hadn't noticed a single owl entering the flat.
"They really wanted us to come and stay, but I told them you weren't up to it yet. I apologize in advance, by the way – they're both going to give you a stupid amount of hugs." He hesitated, peering at her in concern. "Are you okay with this? Because if you'd rather not go there, we can–"
She released his hand and unlocked the car. "Get in – all of you. It'll be a tight fit, but if Mary sits on Padfoot's lap, I think we can manage. And someone will have to help me navigate, because I have no idea how to get there."
It was below freezing outside, yet Lily rolled her window down and let the icy air buffet her face. As she sped down the road, her friends laughing and jostling each other in the back seat and James grinning beside her, Lily felt a rush of joy she hadn't experienced since Petunia had appeared in her flat a week ago. Smiling to herself, she rolled up the window and raised her voice to cut through the laughter.
"Do you believe I had James convinced Muggle cars could drive on water?"
As James had predicted, Fleamont and Euphemia both enveloped Lily in an enthusiastic, three-way hug, fussing over her until Sirius cleared his throat and wondered whether they had any time to spare for their favorite son. Then they were greeting everyone else, offering drinks and snacks, complimenting Mary's dress and worrying that some of them weren't eating enough.
"He's not in the club," Lily murmured after Euphemia told Remus he looked as if he hadn't eaten in days. Euphemia gave her an odd look, but Peter burst into laughter.
After dinner Sirius dealt out a round of Exploding Snap while Euphemia led Lily upstairs.
"I have something for you," she explained as Lily followed her into a room she had never seen before. An enormous carved wooden bed stood in the center of the room, affording its occupants a view of the Quidditch pitch through the wide windows. One of the bedside tables was piled with potions books and a copy of Quidditch Monthly, while the other side held a half-finished crossword puzzle. On the wall above a dresser was a framed photograph of James and Sirius in their Hogwarts robes, both grinning at the camera. It was a large, elegant room, yet it had a homey, lived-in feel, much like the rest of the house.
"I had intended for James to give you my mother's engagement ring," Euphemia began, opening an ornate jewelry box on her dresser and lifting out jeweled necklaces and delicate brooches one by one. "But he had other ideas."
"Oh." Lily stared at her engagement ring, guilt filling her stomach. "I'm sorry. I–"
"Don't be silly," Euphemia said, tossing a pair of gaudy gold earrings unceremoniously back into the jewelry box. "The ring he gave you is lovely." A wicked smile spread across her face. "I bullied Sirius into taking the ring instead."
"What?" Lily spluttered, gaping at Euphemia. "He's going to propose to Mary?"
Euphemia laughed and examined a long strand of pearls. "I doubt it. He almost fell out of his chair laughing when I suggested it. Still, he does love her – I can tell. I think he's going to give it to her, not as an engagement ring, but just to wear. It'll look nice on her." Euphemia's lined face lit up at the prospect.
"It will," Lily said, her chest filling with emotion at the thought of Sirius giving Mary such a meaningful gift.
"Anyway, I've been wanting to give you something to welcome you into the family. We've ordered you a Christmas jumper to match ours, but that won't be ready until closer to Christmas, and I thought you should have something with a bit more family history…"
She held out her hand and placed a pair of sparkling emerald drop earrings into Lily's outstretched palm. Lily traced a finger over the smooth stone, her eyes wide with wonder.
"I wore them at my wedding," Euphemia said, a haze of nostalgia coating her voice. "Fleamont's mother gave them to me – she wore them at her wedding, too. You would've loved her. She was hilarious – I was always teasing her about giving Fleamont such a ridiculous name, and she'd tease me right back. Anyway, I thought you might like to wear these at your wedding. They'll match your eyes." She chuckled and patted Lily's arm. "Unless you hate them, in which case, toss them into a drawer, or save them for your own daughter, or give them to the girl who ends up marrying Remus or Peter, since I assume Sirius will refuse to budge on the subject. I promise, I won't be offended."
Lily had to swallow and clear her throat before she could speak. "I love them," she choked out, struggling to get them into her ears. "They're beautiful. I've never had a family heirloom before."
Euphemia rolled her eyes. "Pureblood families have more heirlooms than anyone would know what to do with, and some of them are hideous – like this awful thing." She held up a large gold brooch shaped like a badger. Its shining ruby eyes were oddly threatening. "I come from a long line of Hufflepuffs, but honestly, what am I supposed to do with this? It's terrifying. But those look lovely on you." She took Lily's hand and squeezed it; her bony, gnarled fingers were surprisingly strong. "I know we can never replace your parents, but Fleamont and I think of you as part of the family. Our boys love you, and so do we."
Lily wanted to thank her, to say she loved them too, to tell her how much she appreciated the warm welcome into their home and their lives, but she couldn't speak. Her lip trembled as tears filled her eyes, and then Euphemia was pulling her into a hug and rubbing her back as Lily's shoulders shook with sobs.
"I'm so sorry, love," Euphemia whispered. "It isn't fair."
Lily let Euphemia hold her until the tears subsided, and then she took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. A sudden fervor gripped her, vibrating through her body and driving away the last of the sadness.
"Let's go back downstairs," she said, dabbing mascara from underneath her eyes before leading the way out of the room. The earrings swung with each step, but the weight was somehow comforting.
James's face fell when he saw the evidence of her tears, but his smile returned when his hand reached out to touch the emerald drops on her ears.
"She gave them to you? I knew you'd look gorgeous in them."
She rolled her eyes and settled beside him on the sofa. "You think I look gorgeous in everything."
He shrugged. "Well, you do."
Everyone else had drifted into the kitchen for snacks, leaving only James and Lily in front of the crackling fire. Lily leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed, watching the flames as she stretched her legs out to rest her feet against the warm hearth.
"I've had an idea," she said as James poked at a run in her hose until he grazed her bare skin underneath. "I think we should move up the wedding."
"What?" James turned to look at her, his startled expression contrasting with the sleepy atmosphere of the evening.
"I don't want to wait until June." She fiddled with her engagement ring as she struggled to put her feelings into coherent words. "After everything that's happened, June feels too far away. If anything else happens, I…" She forced back the worry and smiled. "I just want to marry you as soon as possible."
The urgency racing through her seemed to be infecting him, too, because his eyes were bright as he raised his eyebrows. "How soon?"
She hesitated. "Before Christmas?"
James laughed and shook his head. "You want to plan a wedding in a month?"
A thread of doubt began to nag at Lily. Maybe it couldn't be done – maybe it was a silly idea, born of too little sleep and too much heightened emotion. "You're right. What was I thinking?"
But James grinned and turned his body to face her, enthusiasm lighting up his features. "I didn't mean it can't be done. If anyone can pull it off, it's us. A December wedding." He ran his hand through his hair as he mulled the idea over. "I love it, Evs."
"You do?"
He nodded. "I just want to marry you. If I don't have to wait as long to do it, then that's even better."
He kissed her, his lips driving away the last of her doubts, before getting to his feet. "Come on. Let's go tell everyone the new plan."
The rest of the evening passed in a flurry of excitement. James sent a hasty message to Dumbledore while Lily compiled a guest list and Mary conferred with Euphemia about decorations. Remus and Sirius wandered outside to start experimenting with an atmospheric charm to fulfill Lily's dream of a wedding under the stars, while Peter set to work making plans for the wedding cake. By the time they all drifted off to bed, Lily was too wound up to sleep.
"You got through the day, Evs," James said, turning out the lights and reaching for her in the dark. "And you were amazing. Your speech made me cry."
"I know it did," she said, burrowing her face into his neck. "I can't wait to see you cry at our wedding."
"Good thing I look very handsome when I cry," he said, laughing and stirring little pieces of her hair. "I can't believe we're getting married in a month. I'm so bloody excited."
"Me too." She sighed as his fingers traced a path down her waist and toyed with the drawstring of her borrowed pajamas. "I love you."
"I love you too." His hand dipped below the waistband of her pajamas, eliciting a deeper sigh as she tightened her grip on his shoulder.
"What if your parents hear?" she whispered.
He took his time answering; his mouth was busy trailing kisses down her neck and across her chest.
"You said the same thing last time, and I told you, their room is fortified with multiple layers of silencing spells," he said, sliding his other hand underneath her t-shirt. "Otherwise they'd never get any sleep when Sirius and I are home. Besides, if they do hear anything, we can just blame it on Sirius and Mary." His touch was just the barest brush against her skin, teasing her until she moaned against his ear.
"You've been through hell this week, Evs. Let me help you feel good."
His breath raised goosebumps on her skin as he ran the tip of his thumb over her nipple. It was her weakness – he knew it, too – and she saw the satisfaction on his face when she inclined her hips toward his fingers.
It had been too long since he had touched her like this. She was eager for him – desperate, even, and he breathed her name when he felt how much she wanted his touch. She kissed his jaw, her lips grazing his stubble. His fingers were confident and sure, anticipating what she wanted based on the squeeze of her hand or the speed of her breathing. Their surroundings faded to nothing as she closed her eyes and lost herself in the warmth of his body and the steady pressure of his fingers.
She dug her fingernails into his back when he slid his fingers inside her, and he breathed a sigh of his own when she tightened around him. Her breathing was shallow and rapid as her heart raced, and all traces of worry fled her body to be replaced by the hum of pleasure building in her center. Magic was pooling beneath James's touch, sending currents of sensation down her limbs until her fingers and toes tingled. She knew she should try to contain the magic – the last time she had felt like this, she had set the curtains on fire – yet the pull of release was too strong. Every stroke of James's finger brought her closer to the brink; any moment she would lose control and let the excess magic pour out.
"I think I might…" she whispered, but James pressed his lips to her mouth before she could finish her sentence.
"I hope you do," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "It's so fucking sexy."
She kissed him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth as her fingers raked through his hair. The magic pulsed and roiled, begging to escape. James increased his pressure as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, making her cry out. Her head was buzzing as more magic bubbled beneath her skin.
"I'm going to–" she began, but her words dissolved as James pushed her over the edge. Waves of pleasure and magic moved through her body, and she moaned and clutched James until she stopped shuddering. A warm, satisfied glow washed over her as she relaxed against the pillow, but then the sharp scent of burning fabric roused her. She struggled upright, but James pressed a gentle hand against her shoulder and eased her back against the mattress.
"Don't move," he said, kissing her forehead. "I've got it."
A moment later there was a rush of water and a hiss of steam, and then James climbed back into bed beside her and pulled her close.
"It's been a while since I've gotten you to do accidental magic." He rested his hand against her chest and felt her heart pounding as she gasped for breath. "The curtains and the rug were on fire, by the way."
"Oh, God." She pressed her hand to her hot face. "I'm sorry."
"Evs." He pried her hand away and kissed her, moving from her lips to her jaw to the hollow of her neck. "Stop apologizing. I fucking love it." He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and snuggled closer. "Now let's go to sleep, because you've had a long day, and we have a lot of wedding planning to do in the morning."
"And patrolling," she said, speaking through a yawn. "I'm going back tomorrow."
"Evs, I'm not sure–"
"I am," she said, kissing his cheek. "But what about you? Don't you want me to, you know, return the favor?"
She toyed with the waistband of his shorts, but he grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"I'm okay. You need sleep." He chuckled as she broke free from his grip and made a second attempt at returning the favor. "I mean it. If you're really eager, we can have a go tomorrow morning."
Her eyes fluttered shut as she gave in to the pull of sleep and nestled her head against the pillow.
"Alright, if you're sure. Thanks for helping me get through today. I couldn't have done it without you."
"Nah, that was all you," he said, running his fingers up and down her arm. "I did nothing. Except, you know, that last bit that led to the accidental magic. I take full responsibility for that."
She smiled and relaxed into his arms, letting the tension drain from her body as she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.