Right, this chappie throws the proverbial spanner in the works. It's something I've actually never seen done (at least, not in the way I plan to) in a Lily/James fic, so I hope it works out alright. Thank you all for your lovely reviews - all three of them - and for everyone who's read it. If you had a few seconds to spare, I'd love a few more reviews!

'Treasure is a whim, and one that every man spends his life searching for'

Lily could barely breathe. She was nervous enough as it was, but with James's anxiety pooling into her as well across the link, she was fit to faint. Oh Merlin she couldn't do this! What had she been thinking? Teaching dancing! It was insane, completely insane!

Her hand caught in her hair as she twiddled it into a knot. Her mind wandered anxiously over the little morsels of wisdom her parents had imparted on her over their years together. Her father would have been proud of her for doing this. He always had liked teaching, and he would have been pleased Lily was sharing her skills. Perhaps her mother would have been pleased, but more likely than not, she would have been more interested in James; was he a possible suitor? Could he be encouraged? Lily shook her head, a slight smile on her face. Her mother had been so delusional sometimes. Her and James? Ha! In a million years, more like.

She jumped a little as she heard James laughing quietly "We're daft buggers, aren't we?" He said, ruffling his hair "Look at us. Afraid of teaching a bunch of kids dancing."

Lily turned and scowled at him. She didn't think she was a daft bugger, thank you very much. She was perfectly within her rights to be nervous! If it weren't for him, sending her his nerves over the link, she probably wouldn't be nervous at all, damn it! Merlin, he was so obnoxious!

"Lily, Lily, calm down. I wasn't trying to be rude; I was more poking fun at myself than at you." James assured her, finding her much easier to deal with now he had an insight into her emotions

Lily glared at him, but the effect was ruined somewhat by a slight smile that curved her lips. The door opened and the students began to trickle in, prompting Lily and James to stand at the front, by the stage, and smile politely as the students milled around, looking uncomfortable, waiting for the rest of the class to arrive.

"Alright, settle down!" Lily called in her best teacher voice. Much to her horror, only a handful of students even paid her any attention at all. With a frown, she repeated it again.

"Excuse me!" She called

"Oi! Shut up and listen, you bunch of idiots!" James yelled when Lily's polite request had no effect. Lily scowled when they all listened to him and did exactly as asked.

"Right. Me an' Lil's are gonna give you a quick demo, then we'll set 'bout teaching you the basics. Got it? Good."

Lily scowled at him and shot a glare his direction at his demolition of the grammar. But then the music was on and James grinned at her, and then they were dancing. Gliding and floating and it was perfect. Much to her surprise, he seemed to be improving; more able to dance with less direction from her. James twirled Lily, dipping her as the song ended and grinning down at her.

"Hey." He whispered

"Hey yourself." She whispered back, smiling as he pulled her upright again. Lily glanced over the class of awestruck students and couldn't help but be dragged into the memory of her very first day of dance class...

"Tuney! Tuney hurry up! I don't want to be late for my first lesson!" Seven year old Lily Evans yelled up the stairs to her sister

"Lily!" her mother chastised "Don't yell like that; you're a young lady, not a football yob!"

Lily smiled at her mum, a cheeky, toothy smile that all seven year olds seem to have perfected "But Mummy, I might be a football yob, but you just don't know!"

The elegant blonde woman shook her head at her daughter "Really, Lily, if you keep saying things like that, one day I might believe you. Now then, why don't you hurry upstairs and see if your sister needs some help?"

Lily scowled a little and slipped her shoes off, scurrying up the smooth wooden stairs, hand running lightly over the carved handrail. She pushed Petunia's door open and peered inside. Petunia's room was a fussy shade of magnolia, much too old for the young girl, yet Petunia liked it because it made her look grown-up. Unlike Lily's room, no crayon drawings adorned the walls, only proper artwork done by expensive artists. On the bed sat a small, worn pink bunny, the only evidence that a young child lived in the room. Even the doll's house on the low white table looked too fussy to be a toy; rather it appeared to be an ornament.

"Tuney?" Lily called into the empty room, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that Petunia was gone "Tuney! Where are you?"

No answer and Lily bit her lip, racing off to search the rest of the house.

Soon enough, it was proven that Number Seven, the Crescent, was completely Petunia-free. Lily sat, crying, on the staircase. Her sister, gone!

"Alright, Fairy?" Her dad asked, his calm, soft voice soothing her "Petunia's probably just decided to play with... oh, what's that boy's name?"

"You mean Sev?" Lily asked, glancing up at her father "Lives on Spinner's End?"

The red haired man nodded "Yes, him."

Lily scowled "Tuney doesn't like Sev, because he'd got a big nose. And he believes in magic, and Tuney says magic isn't real. I don't think she'll be with Sev, but where is she, Daddy?"

Lily's father sighed "I don't know, Lily Flower. But you'll miss your dance class if you don't go now. Don't worry; Mummy will take you to dance class, and I will look for your missing sister. Are you all ready to go?"

Lily stood up, her temper flaring "Daddy! I'm not going anywhere until I know Tuney's alright! She could be hurt! I won't go, and you can't make me, Daddy, I won't go!"

Lily's father chuckled "That's my Lily."

After what felt like hours to Lily, Mrs Next Door popped around, a smiling and chocolate-covered Petunia in tow.

"Sowwy, Mummy." Petunia said, switching to baby like talk in the hope of getting out of trouble "I got choccy bikkits!"

"Goodness, Petunia, don't be so ridiculous!" Her mum snapped once Mrs Next Door had gone – wouldn't want Mrs Next Door to think they didn't love Petunia, after all – "You know your sister has her first dance lesson! Don't just run off like that!"

Petunia burst into noisy tears, wailing and crying, her dark blonde hair flying around as she jumped up and down in a tantrum.

"Come on, Lily Flower." Her father said, quietly into her ear "We'll leave your mum and Petunia to their little... discussion. I'll take you to dance class. Are you all ready to go?"

Lily nodded slowly and took her father's hand, following him outside and into the black, shiny, cream leather Jag. Soon enough they were rolling through the Cheshire countryside, vibrant green in the spring weather. The dance studio, Lily noted with a worried flip of her stomach, was much bigger than she'd first thought, and big girls, and one or two boys were drifting in and out of it. All of them walked so elegantly, Lily noted, and she couldn't help but wish she walked like that. In fact, Lily swore to herself, she'd get so good at this dancing malarkey, that she'd be able to walk just like them in no time.

Wearing her little pink tutu and soft leather pumps, Lily cautiously made her way into the studio. The lesson had already started, and Lily flushed at the thought of being late

"Um, excuse me?" Lily called quietly "I'm, er, a bit late..."

Then her father was there, striding into the hall was a soft twinkle in his eye. He led her up to the dance teacher, an elderly lady with her hair in a sharp bun.

"Excuse me, this is Lily Evans. Unfortunately we had a little mishap this morning; her sister went missing. Petunia's been found now though, but obviously that has made us late today. We're very sorry." He said, one hand on Lily's shoulder like he always did when she was worried. It was his way of offering a silent support, and Lily dreaded the day it wouldn't be there.

The lady looked down at her "Well then, Lily, do you want to dance?"

Lily frowned a little "I want to be e-elegant. Like the big girls and boys."

The lady chuckled "That's a long word for a little lady like yourself. Do you know what it means?"

Lily nodded furiously "It means to be floaty, like a duck."

The dance lady and Lily's father shared amused glances. "Alright then, Floaty Lily, do you want to stand in line next to Milly... yes, that's Milly... perfect. Now then, Mr Evans, pick up is in half an hour."

Half an hour later, Lily had to be forcibly dragged out of that little dance studio, beaming ear-to-ear. She wasn't a dancer to be gaped at, or even slightly good; she danced just as well as all seven year olds do at their first dance lesson. But she had loved it more than she had enjoyed making the petals on flowers open and close really fast, or jumping off the swing when it was really high up and landing easily on her feet. More than she loved reading, or loved sitting on her father's knee as he tried to explain the meaning of the universe. More than she loved the feeling of a brush running rhythmically through her hair, or the new dresses her mother brought her from London.

"Did you enjoy that, poppet?" Her father asked, folding his Financial Times and laying it on the back seat as he helped Lily onto her booster seat

"It was brilliant, Daddy." Lily replied simply "Thank you for taking me."

The lesson passed in a blur for Lily; her mind was firmly in the past, inside the safety of the dance studio, the comfort of her father's Jag, the prissy walls of Petunia's room. The smooth wood of the staircase, her mother's insistence that she remove her shoes before going upstairs. Mrs Next Door's chocolate biscuits. The playground, her father's study. The smell of the Financial Times (which, Lily was certain, had a very distinctive smell, almost as distinct as her mother's perfume had been), the feel of her soft pink pumps on her feet.

"Lily?" James asked, watching her cautiously as the students filed out "Lily? Are you in there?"

Lily turned empty green eyes on him, and watched as James seemed to shiver. He took a step towards her, hand reaching towards her shoulder in a vain attempt to comfort, offer support.

"Leave me alone." She spat. Her father had done that, that putting a hand on her shoulder. He'd done it that first day of dance class, he'd done it when Petunia had gone missing. It was a gesture that belonged to him, and him alone, damn it! She wouldn't let Potter steal something that was her father's. Hell, she'd let him in too much these past few days. It was the dancing that had done it, she was sure. It was a bad idea after all. What had possessed her to tell McGonagall this?

She swung for the door but found Potter in her way once more

"Move." She whispered harshly, lips pulled back in a snarl "Move, now!"

There was something feral, something animal in Lily. She could feel it, clawing and prowling and begging to be allowed control. It promised freedom from the pain, promised the power to crush this worthless being into dust. It scared Lily enough to bring some of her human side to the front once again. But it didn't diminish the feeling inside her. Like having a lioness caged in her chest.

James moved to the side, a shocked look on his face. For a fleeting moment, Lily felt guilty. But the moment passed, and Lily rushed out of the room and through the corridors, heading for Slughorn's office.

"Professor? Professor!" Lily called, knocking on his door

"Goodness gracious, Lily, are you quite alright?" Slughorn asked, his bushy eyebrows rising as he took in Lily's flustered appearance "Would you like some tea?"

Lily nodded and slipped inside, settling into a padded armchair and looking around Slughorn's familiar office. Photos adorned the walls, famous people waved and smiled at her from their frames. She glanced at the goldfish she'd charmed and given to him earlier that year; it was swimming idly around the tank. As with all charms, it would last as long as she was alive, so she hoped that goldfish would be still there in a good many years to come. Of course, with the war brewing she knew she was perhaps being a little naive.

"Here's your tea, Lily. Now, what's bothering you?" Slughorn asked, handing her a steamy mug of tea, one sugar and no milk just as she always had it.

Lily blew softly on the tea, cooling it for a moment, before sipping it. "Professor, will you promise not to tell anyone this?"

Slughorn nodded "Of course, Lily, you know that."

"Well... I'm just so confused! And I'm still not over my parent's d-death and I don't have any friends now Sev doesn't speak to me anymore and now Potter's being nice to me and I don't know why and I'm supposed to be teaching dance-classes and I'm worried about my NEWTs and I'm scared about this war and I just... and I'm just so overwhelmed."

Slughorn chuckled quietly "Lily, my dear, first things first. You're parent's death is not something you will ever get over. Life is like that, trust me I know. I lost my own parents in the war against Grindlewald. Over time you learn to live with the pain, but it will never truly leave you. You will see them in everything you do in daily life for as long as you live. I know I still taste my mother's crystallized pineapple every time I eat the stuff. I still remember how my father used to laugh at everything even when it wasn't funny. I still know exactly what my mother would say if she walked through this door now and saw how messy my office is. That is just a fact of life, Lily.

"Now then, from what I can gather you do have a friend; the esteemed Mr Potter. Of course, you're confused because he's been nothing but rude to you all the time you've known him. But remember, Lily, people change. The Severus Snape that lives in the Slytherin dorms right now is nothing like the boy you knew as a younger girl. You're nothing like the shy, embarrassed, awkward little eleven year old who sat on that stool and was sorted into Gryffindor. Things in your life have shaped and changed you into who you are now.

"Perhaps Mr Potter is merely being nice to you because he has recognized your situation and is trying to help you?"

"But I don't want his sympathy!" Lily burst in "I don't need his sympathy!"

Slughorn smiled at Lily "Oh I think you do. I think you're forgetting how much that boy has helped you. He's been to see me a few times too, you know, asking me if I would give you a bit less homework, wanting to know if there was anything he could do to help you get through potions easier. He was quick to point out that you're a lot better at my subject than he is, but he was still willing to help... no, don't try to find an answer to that. There isn't always a simple answer to things, you know Lily.

"Now then, where was I in your list? Ah yes, dance class. From what I've heard from Professor McGonagall when she was bragging in the staff room, you and Mr Potter are the best dancers in the whole school, possibly, she feels, in the whole country."

"But being able to dance and being able to teach dancing are two different things!" Lily pointed out, pausing in her tea-drinking

"But you used to tutor some younger students in Potions, that much I know, and I know that their grades would invariably rise after your help. So that tells me you're perfectly capable of teaching. I'm sure you're doing a brilliant job. And if not? What does it matter? Are any of these students wanting to become professional dancers? No, of course not! They're doing it for fun, so make sure you enjoy it too.

"NEWTs, Lily dear, are not something you need to worry about. If you don't pass all of them with an O, I will be very surprised. You are a talented young lady, no matter what anyone else might say, and you have nothing to worry about in your exams. You'll probably do better if you're not worrying about them.

"The war..." Slughorn paused, his face ageing as a frown adorned his brow "The war, Lily, is something you are right to worry about. I cannot predict where it is going, what is going to happen nor what the outcome is going to be. It will be dangerous for all of you once you leave Hogwart's safe walls. The best advice I can offer you, Lily, is to be prepared. To pass your NEWTs you need to be able to understand the theoretical, and correctly cast the spells. You don't need to be able to cast under the stress of a battle, nor do you need to be able to hit a moving target. You don't need to be able to make split-second decisions which could either save or take your life, nor do you have anyone else's life resting in your hands. There is no way to recreate that type of situation; the best you can do is practice, practice, practice at hitting moving targets, duelling and such so you have the skills should you ever need to use them."

Lily and Slughorn sat in silence, the weight of the topic thickening the air. It was clear Slughorn's mind was back in the battle between Grindlewald, and Lily didn't want to interrupt him. She sipped her tea quietly, thankful she had something in her hands that would stop her twiddling her hair.

"Right." Slughorn said eventually, standing up and refilling both their cups "Enough of this morbid topic. Tell me more about how you learnt to dance quite so well, multitalented young lady that you are."

Lily left Slughorn's office feeling much more settled than she had done. Slughorn was a little like her father, actually, in his methodical and sensible way of tackling Lily's problems. Just as her teacher had promised, it hurt still to think of anyone taking her father's place. Perhaps, she mused, that was why she'd felt so angry with James earlier. Maybe she didn't want to take comfort from someone other than her parents, as it had been their job for so long.

She whispered the password to the portrait and slipped noiselessly inside. Her eyes swept over the room, with its hooks by the door for their robes, the fire dancing in the hearth, surrounded by the plush cream sofas, armchairs and oak coffee table, the occasional orange cushion dotted here and there. She supposed they'd chosen a colour that had nothing to do with the houses. Her Charms homework was sprawled over the little table in the kitchen area, just through the archway. Her shoes were lying haphazardly on the wooden floor, one on the thick sheepskin rug and one near the entrance. James's quidditch robes were emitting a hideous smell from the corner by the calendar and the portrait of Wendy Quipply.

James's quidditch plans were spell-o-taped to the wall, overflowing from the study area. Books lay randomly all over the desk in there, broken quills and leaking ink-pots staining the thick cream carpet. James's bedroom door was shut, and Lily could only guess at the mess likely to be growing in there. Her own door was slightly ajar, and she could just make out the pile of washing on her chair that she was yet to take down to the laundry.

She ambled into the kitchen area, absently considering tidying up. She knew she should really do the detention slips, and she had a lot of homework to do now she wasn't taking classes... but Lily being Lily, tidying up sounded like a much better option.

There, on the side by the sink and the pot which had a water-heating charm on it (although Lily was tempted to just call it a 'kettle') sat in innocuous mug, and a little note. Picking it up and inhaling the scent of herbal tea, Lily glanced at the note.

Hey

Listen, I'm really sorry I upset you. I, er, didn't mean it at all. I'm not too sure what I did in the first place, but I just wanted you to know that it wasn't intentional. I thought you did a brilliant job teaching those kids today, and I hope you feel better after a mug of tea? See, I remembered you don't like coffee! I'm trainable! Haha, don't tell Sirius I said that.

Anyway, I've done the detention slips, so you needn't worry about them. I'm at quidditch practice now, but if you need me for anything I can cut it short. Although I'd rather not, you know? Quidditch for me is like dancing for you. Maybe, now I enjoy dancing, you'd like to try quidditch?

Just a thought. You know. You, er, don't have to take me up on it. I don't want to push you into anything. Erm, yeah.

Potter

James

Potter

Lily laughed softly. His notes always made her smile, especially when she didn't have to admit that to anyone else. He wrote them as if he was actually saying them, complete with embarrassed 'erm's and awkward 'er's. Really, it was quite endearing.

But her, try quidditch? Not in a million years! She had nothing against the game, but she couldn't catch to save her life, so she'd be useless. Plus she'd not been on a broom since they'd chosen electives in third year, and Lily had promptly dropped Flying. After all, if she wanted to take Arithmacy, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures already, she simply wouldn't have time for an hour's flying a day.

Perhaps... perhaps she'd let him down easy.

After all, he'd done the detention slips, so she would now have time to tidy up. She grinned a little and pulled her loose hair up into a messy bun, securing it with her wand as an afterthought. Rolling her shirt sleeves up, Lily set about tidying up. Her nose wrinkled as she collected James's quidditch robes from the floor (really, did that boy have a thing against coat hangers?). Soon the hall, kitchen area and lounge area was pristine, and Lily cautiously made her way into the study.

She pulled the blinds open, letting the winter sun stream in, and opened the window. The wind was bitter cold, but it made Lily smile as it teased tendrils of her hair away from their confines. She gathered the pairs of shoes strewn around the floor and set them neatly in the hall, and watered the Snap-Dragons on the windowsill. She cleaned up the ink stains and binned the broken quills, before her hand fell on the letters.

With a guilty glance at the door, Lily unfolded the first one, the parchment crackly and crunching in her hand.

Mon Amour,

Lily's throat felt dry for some reason

Well, I thought for once I would skip all the pleasantries. Of course, you never want to know about how my week has been anyway, but I live in hope that one day you will take some sort of notice in my life. In me, for that matter. After all, you won't have much choice by the end of this year. Perhaps you should just make this easier for both of us and stop being so selfish.

But I digress. I was in Twillfit and Tattings yesterday, buying some new dress robes for the Potter Christmas Ball (which, I have to say, I'm very excited for... if you get my meaning!), when I saw the perfect Dress! I know! I'm ecstatic too! Mother was over the moon, mainly because I've been dragging her into different wedding shops for months now, trying to find The Dress, but I've never seen one that was good enough for you and me.

Well, I know you're not allowed to see it, but that doesn't mean I can't describe it to you, does it? Of course not. It's white (not ivory – never did like ivory, it's too... bland. Sort of as if the dress-maker couldn't decide between white or cream, so went for a halfway house), high-necked and covered in lace and pearls. It sparkles in the light like an ice-sculpture; it's beautiful! It has a huge, lacy, full train... which mother was a bit worried about, because it doesn't actually fit in the isle at St Merlin's Cathedral. But, they'll just have to expand the isle. I'm not having a different dress just because the church is too small!

Anyway, I'm sure Mother will be rather encouraging with the organisers, a Mr Fieldron. I can't think of a singly man unable to withstand mother's vela charms. In fact, I can't think of a single man who can withstand my charms, and I'm half-vela. Of course, you still hate me just as much as you lust after me, that is not something I can change. But I wish you would like me, I really do.

Anyway, Beauxbaton's is looking beautiful all decked out in its festive cheer, and I have had such a lovely time helping the head boy, a Monsieur Delacour, set up the Christmas Ball. Shame I won't be there to witness it, as I'll be in cold little England for your ball. Not that I mind, of course, because I so enjoy your company. When we are married, though, I hope we can come to an agreement about spending the winters in France. I know how much you love your little country, so I don't mind spending summer, perhaps with your parents. But, if we're married, maybe we'll want a bit more... privacy?

Now then, seeing as you still insist on keeping this whole 'arranged marriage' thing a secret, I was wondering what you were planning on telling your merry little amis when you and I arrive as guests of honour at your Christmas Ball, and your parents announce our engagement? Surely you do not intend to tell them it is all a big joke? Please tell me you've thought of something. Why can't you just tell them? They're your friends, non? They will understand! They'll be happy that you're marrying someone like me, of proper heritage and, of course, half vela! Please, Jamie, please just tell them. I'm beginning to think you are ashamed of me.

On a lighter note, my English is much better, oui? I still have a sexy French accent though, so don't worry your pretty English head about that. Think back to our first letters, when I could barely write a sentence! I do have an advantage though; Vela's are naturally more adept at learning languages, for some reason.

Well, I must go. I promised Monsieur Delacour I would show him around Paris (he's from the South, and he's never actually been to Paris before. Imagine! Never been to Paris!), and help him buy some dress robes for the ball. He really is an unusual boy; he doesn't seem to mind shopping, and with me as well! Even my mother, the eternal shopper, doesn't like shopping with me. I hope I didn't accidentally blast him with my Vela charm.

Oh well.

Anyway, I can't wait to see you, Christmas feels too long away.

Apolline, your fiancé.

Xxx

Married, Lily thought. Bloody hell, James was having an arranged marriage! Lily refolded the letter with slightly shaky hands, and then replaced it on the pile, back with the other letter which Lily assumed must have been of the same nature. Merlin, she thought. Married, at their age! Lily was sure she didn't want to be married before she was twenty five at the earliest, that way she'd have time to maybe go to muggle university (Cambridge had always held an appeal for her), perhaps travel and see the world a bit before spending plenty of time finding the right guy. And there was no way she'd even consider having children before thirty. Oh no. Lily didn't want to be tied down before she'd had at least some time to spread her wings.

She really pitied James for this; she might think he was a bit of a prat, but he certainly didn't deserve to be marrying this poncy French tart.

Huh, Lily thought, that was a bit harsh. She'd only read a single letter... damn it! That girl had wanted a dress too big to fit down the aisle! Lily was well within her rights to not like someone as pretentious as that. And to think, just when Lily thought she knew James.

Lily's shoulders slumped and she began tidying again, but this time her hair didn't seem quite so jaunty, up in its bun with her want stuck out of the top, and her eyes didn't sparkle as they had done previously. In fact, she looked decidedly as if someone had just kicked her puppy.

If it helps, I do feel rather guilty right now. Poor, poor Lily, and poor, poor James.

Hopefully it's fairly clear just who James's fiancé is.

Please review!

Ashi

xxx